Driving to school this morning, I was listening to my favorite radio station. Jerry House was already mid-topic when I tuned in at 6:40. As usual, he was discussing a recent statement he had read in the newspaper or heard on the news. This one caught my ear and a piece of my heart as well. It seemed Jerry had heard that schools would no longer be teaching cursive handwriting. Not a huge shock to me. I don't think we've really been teaching it for many years now. Oh, it gets introduced in third grade, probably by a teacher young enough to have barely learned it herself, but it doesn't get practiced. And it isn't revered. At least not by most. And I'm pretty sure I know why. It's the obsolescence of the cartridge pen.
Back in the day, learning cursive was a rite of passage that carried with it the use of . . . the cartridge pen. Oh, you didn't receive the privelege right away. One had to practice the strokes diligently. And a student was not left to their own devices. Every stroke was announced and modeled. Using one's finger as an imaginary pencil and holding one's hand high into the air, eight and nine year olds would write in the sky. "Swing up, slant down, loop back, push up and around, and swing. Again . . ." Groups of 6 or 8 would go to the chalkboard (yes, the chalkboard) and practice there while the rest of the class practiced on their specially lined writing paper at their seats. Each letter was practiced individually and then in tandem with a variety of other letters. By the end of third grade, one would have mastered cursive. And then you were ready for fourth grade.
Fourth grade was the year of the cartridge pen and Washable Blue ink. (Oh, how I wanted Peacock Blue, but that apparently was being saved for junior high.) Practicing cursive now included holding the pen correctly and applying just the right amount of pressure to allow the nib to glide smoothly over one's paper.
How I envied those whose names began with the "beautiful letters." A properly made capital F was regal. An S or an E held such possibilities if curled just so. My sister, Sue Ellen, had them both and I'm not sure she appreciated the gift. I on the other hand had the dreaded J. It hung down below the baseline and ruined the symmetry of my initials. My friend Janice and I attempted all known nuances to elevate the beauty of that letter, but eventually had to accept it for what it was.
As you can tell, cursive was more than just a skill to me. It enhanced every assignment I was given. Even if the language sentences assigned for homework were dull, I could enjoy the beauty of the letters on the page. I wonder what young girls do today with their first crushes. My friends and I would write, for example, Mr. and Mrs. Jimmy Jones (name changed to protect the innocent) over and over again in cursive as a symbol of our "love." I can't picture it in elementary print. It just isn't the same.
And so, you can see how this morning's radio topic affected me. The deletion of cursive from the curriculum is crushing. Must everything beautiful be bidden bye-bye. What's next? Alliteration? I have some thoughts on that too.
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