I profess to being a fan of the Vinyl Café podcast and its host, Stuart McLean. I listen to it each week as I’m driving into Calgary for rehearsal on Tuesday nights. It amuses me and I often find myself laughing out loud.
Last week’s podcast, however, didn’t make me laugh; it made me go “huh?”
See, I’m not a parent and I had no idea they’d stopped teaching cursive handwriting in schools so when Stuart said that in the midst of his story, Murphy’s Signature, I sat up straighter in my car and let out the aforementioned, “huh?”
I don’t understand. Why are kids no longer taught how to write? What’s next? Classes in texting? I certainly hope not.
I suspect this was the point that Stuart was trying to make as well, since the story revolved around Murphy going to the bank to open an account and being horrified when he was asked to provide a signature and realized he didn’t know how to write his signature. He then spent two weeks perfecting his signature because it had to reflect who he was. That’s a powerful statement.
Last week I also had occasion to visit my lawyer and while waiting in a boardroom, I spotted an old signed contract hanging on the wall. I think it was dated 1834 and the penmanship was remarkable. Perfectly formed looping ascenders and descenders, beautifully formed capital letters, very uniform lower case letters; it was a thing of beauty.
My mother and father both had beautiful handwriting. Like Murphy in the Vinyl Café story, I looked to their example when coming up with my own signature when I was younger. It’s changed a bit over the years but I can still see their influence.
Don’t get me wrong; I love technology. I own two tablets, a smartphone, two laptops, a desktop, and two eReaders. But the idea that kids won’t learn how to write just makes me shake my head. I can’t understand the logic.
Since schools no longer teach cursive writing, will kids really grow up not knowing how to sign their names?
That’s horrifying.
If a kid grows up not knowing how to write, will they be able to read something that’s handwritten?
That’s also a horrifying thought.
I suppose that eventually we won’t have a need to sign our names – things like retinal and fingerprint scanners are already being used to identify us as being us – but though handwriting may not be an essential skill, does that make it completely unnecessary?
I don’t think so. There’s something about seeing the written word on a piece of paper. Yes, I understand the irony that I’m writing this editorial on a computer. But I could handwrite it. I have options because I know how to write.
I still handwrite notes when I’m doing a telephone interview for a story I’m working on. If someone asks me to provide an address or information about what kind of sandwich I want for lunch, I’ll write it.
Proponents of the anti-cursive movement say handwriting is archaic. I can’t buy that. My argument is that our handwriting is as individual as we are and being able to share that with others is part of what makes our human interactions that much sweeter and more meaningful.
I find great comfort in being able to look at a handwritten note from my mum or dad now that they’re gone. They used to send me letters when I went to camp. Getting that little piece of home made me less homesick. I doubt getting a text would have engendered that same feeling. There’s nothing personal or warm and fuzzy about a text.
In the future, if schools continue not to teach it, are people really going to have to resort to taking separate classes in cursive handwriting just to be able to sign their names or decipher popular logos like those for Kleenex or Ray Ban that are designed in cursive script? I sincerely hope not.
I’d sign my name to this article if that was technically possible – because I can. Because I learned cursive. Because it’s important.
