handwriting - grace grits and gardening

Since I’ve been on a letter writing kick in 2015, I’ve been thinking more about cursive handwriting and how something that was once a mainstay elementary school lesson is becoming extinct. Although my cursive handwriting has morphed into a hybrid combination of cursive and print, handwriting and old-fashioned letter writing go hand in hand.

Do you remember the cursive alphabet cards and how they lined the wall of the classroom like a wallpaper border above the chalkboard?

Big Q, little q.

That cursive Q was the strangest letter of all, and I’m certain I never perfected it. But somehow I think trying to form those calligraphy-like letters was an important lesson, a ritual that taught fine motor skills and discipline and patience.

When I was a kid, this was a cursive Q. Someone (Thomas Jefferson?) obviously confused it with the number 2.

There was a time when cursive handwriting was considered artwork. Look at this beautifully handwritten poem from a pre-civil war autograph book (courtesy of The Graphics Fairy).

I am not an educator, but I’m a parent. A parent of children who learned cursive in the 1990s, and I’m glad they did.

I understand that life has evolved and kids have changed and there is so much to learn and so little time in the classroom. I understand. I’d also like to think there is value to learning cursive writing beyond cursive writing. Perhaps sitting in the classroom practicing that Q over and over is what helps me sit at my desk today and write even when the words aren’t flowing the way I need them to flow. Maybe something as simple as cursive handwriting is the backbone for what follows. Reading. Fine Motor Skills. Hand Eye Coordination. Writing. Critical Thinking.

But.

Don’t we have more important things to do?

We have technology now, which is life-changing and if I had to live one day without my MacBook Air and iPhone, I’d go into sweaty withdrawals. Technology includes fabulous benefits and makes sitting at my desk and typing those cursive words easy. Kids are sharp. They know things. They tell us which apps to download and fix what needs fixing.

But.

Everything comes with a price. I was an economics major and this is basic stuff. Sacrifice one thing to choose another. Trade-offs create opportunity cost. If I choose to waste two hours on Facebook, I’ve sacrificed the opportunity to write a thousand words. And if instead of spending time on Facebook, I had written a thousand words and sold the story for $200, the opportunity cost of wasting time of Facebook is greater than mere time.

In our schools, if we trade-off cursive for more time to learn programming, what are we losing? And vice versa.

I believe we grow up to be the sum of our experiences. And there were plenty of experiences, not only cursive, that I found useless or a waste of my valuable young time. Math word problems, making my bed, going to church, practicing the piano, mowing the grass. If those things had never been part of my life, I would have had tons of time to do something else. What would the opportunity cost have been? Would I be the same person I am today? Something to think about.

Bottom line. Everything we trade-off somehow affects us. Maybe it’s worth it. Maybe not.

What do you think?

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

[tweetthis url=”http://bit.ly/19BRIY8″]Is there value to cursive writing beyond cursive writing? #opportunitycost[/tweetthis]

When did you last receive a letter? A real, handwritten letter delivered by the postman?

Last month, I received a letter from a friend who lives near Waco, Texas. Years ago when I was a Baylor college student, we worked together at a law firm in town. My job was part-time—a few afternoons each week and every Saturday morning. I typed legal documents, filed papers with the County Clerk, that sort of thing. Edith, my co-worker, was older, wiser, a full-time employee. She became my mother away from home and we became friends, exchanging Christmas cards even now. But, we haven’t seen each other in over twenty years.

Last month, I received a real, honest to goodness letter from Edith. And it wasn’t one of those Christmas newsletters. It was a letter about her family and an update on the attorneys we worked with.

I loved it.

Once upon a time, I wrote lots of letters. Letter writing was something people did. Routinely.

Back in the 1970s, my Australian pen-pal and I wrote to one another for years. It was called airmail. A cool thing when the world felt gigantic and I lived in the middle of a cotton field.

Even during summer cheerleading camp (which only lasted one week), my friends and I packed notebook paper and envelopes and stamps so we could mail letters home. We usually made it back to Mississippi County before the exciting news of our spirit stick win. We’ve got spirit, yes we do…

Momma and Nana wrote letters to me at college. I wrote back each week. Long-distance telephone calls were expensive, and those meaningful letters from home often kept me going.

Today, I have a box in my closet filled with priceless handwritten letters, letters spanning my lifetime so far—from my fourth grade classmates who wrote to me when I was in the hospital to letters my own children sent home when they were away at summer camp.

My how things have changed.

And what about love letters? I love you, do you love me? Text 1 for yes and 2 for no? Not quite the same, is it?

Since 2015 is my year to focus on writing, I’ve decided to add letter-writing to my repertoire. One letter a week. To someone. A friend. A family member. A shut-in. Anyone who might want to receive something other than bills and junk mail. A regular, handwritten letter.

I may even try my hand at those wax seals folks used back before envelops self-sealed.

I’m starting today with a hand-written letter to my Waco friend, Edith. Since I’m getting a late start (2nd week of January and all), I’ll send out another letter before the end of the week. Then one a week (that’s my goal) for 2015.

52 letters this year.

What do you think? Want to join me in my letter writing quest?

If you know someone who would like to receive old-fashioned mail, send me their name and address, and I’ll add them to my list.

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

[tweetthis]When was the last time you received a handwritten letter?[/tweetthis]

Musical Pairing:

Please Mr. Postman – The Marvelettes