Why I'm Teaching My Kids Cursive Writing

I miss you...

We recently added a new activity to our family's weekend routine.  On Sunday afternoons, I sit my sons at the dining room table with a pencil and some sheets of lined paper. I plop a bowl of candy in front of them for "motivation" and begin our weekly lesson in cursive writing.  For 30 minutes, they loop and slant their way through the alphabet, their names and a few other words.  This is not always a joyful family experience and it is often characterized by resistance and frustration about why they're the "only kids in their class who have to learn cursive". 

I became concerned when another mom told me that the Toronto District School Board had dropped handwriting from the curriculum. While that is not actually true, whether it is actually taught is up to individual teachers (like so much else) and it's definitely not a priority.  Even if it is squeezed in here and there, it's unlikely the kids will practice it enough to become proficient. 


While I wasn't labouring under the misconception that my kids were spending hours perfecting a scripted "d" while their teacher rapped the hands of those who went outside the lines, I was shocked and saddened to hear that it wouldn't play a vital role in their education.  I understand it's a dying art and it's not like I also expect them to master the abacus or slide rule, but I just hadn't prepared my mind (and my emotions) for the reality that they might never learn how to write properly.  

According to the experts, font is the future, and I can't say I disagree. My kids will graduate into an extremely competitive global environment and need to be adequately prepared with true 21st century skills.  There's no time to focus on things they won't use and in fact, many adults who grew up learning cursive don't even use it anymore.  Thanks to chip and pin technology, we don't need to sign our name when we use our credit cards and people take notes on their tablets or smartphones. Brides send thank you notes by email (when they send them at all), long distance correspondence takes place electronically and I can't remember the last time I received a postcard from a vacationing acquaintance.

I don't think of myself as a Luddite, and yet, putting pen to paper is such a fundamental part of my life that I just wasn't prepared to let it go. To say I love cursive writing is an understatement.  At conferences, I'm often the only person at my table taking notes the "old-fashioned way".  I write elaborate to-do lists and get a thrill every time I stroke my pen through a task that's completed.  I send handwritten thank-you cards all the time and write out almost 50 Christmas cards each year.  To be fair, I am gifted with the ability to write very neatly.  It has always come easy for me and I realize that for many people, no amount of practice can improve their messy scrawl.

But, while I have a tendency towards nostalgia, my desire to teach my kids cursive is not fueled purely by emotion.  According to researchers, writing by hand is more than just a way to communicate.  Cursive calls upon many different parts of the brain while printing and typing only use the left hemisphere of the brain, the side associated with linear, logical and sequential functions.  As well, handwriting reinforces reading and spelling, develops motor memory, teaches students to focus and may help them remember what they learn.  This last part rings true for me.  Despite their claims that the medium isn't important, I find it hard to believe that people who take notes on a laptop, while simultaneously checking emails and Facebook, are taking in as much relevant information as someone who is writing what they hear.

One could also make a case for the discipline developed when kids practice anything over and over, whether it's piano scales or soccer kicks. By allowing them to go directly from printing to the keyboard, are we denying today's children the confidence that comes from mastering a skill they have struggled with? 

And, as handwriting analysts (themselves a dying breed) will attest, the unique way in which our writing flows says so much about our personality, character and intentions, in a way that Helvetica never will.  A person's handwriting is an extension of who they are and   it's recognizable.  I feel an emotional tug when I receive mail addressed with my mom's patient, consistent script.

And so I plod along with my insistence that my kids learn to write properly.  I realize that short of an apocalypse in which all the technology disappears, it's a skill they won't use but all parents seem to have a couple of things they're "irrational" about.  Some parents think I'm crazy for doing this and I think they're crazy for giving an 8-year-old a Facebook account.  As parents, we make many decisions based on pure gut instinct and hope that they will turn out to be wise. 

What are your thoughts on teaching kids cursive?  Colossal waste of time or valuable learning opportunity? 

Do You Hide Behind A Social Media Alter Ego?

A few weeks ago, I was captivated by the news of Caterpillar closing its plant in London, Ontario.  Although it wasn't confirmed, it was widely suggested that the company was moving the jobs to a plant in Muncie, Indiana, a town that has been decimated by the American economic recession.  After reading a news story in the Muncie Star Press, I decided to add a comment from a Canadian point of view.  After I typed my comment, I hit submit and received a message stating that, in order to preserve the integrity of the comments section and keep it clean, all commenters are required to log in through their Facebook page so that their photo and real name will accompany their comment.

With my finger hovering over the keyboard, I thought about this for a couple of minutes before deciding not to submit my comment.  What scared me away?  I am not a troll who posts derogatory, inflammatory or offensive comments in response to news stories. I don't use profanity, never berate other posters and make every attempt to keep my comments on-topic and not go off on ridiculous tangents.  That said, I guess I'm not quite ready to be completely transparent with my personal opinions when it comes to highly-charged stories.  The few times I shared my honest opinion on the Caterpillar story - that the union had to accept at least some responsibility for the outcome - most people became enraged and spouted sentences that started with, "It's people like you..."

As an educated person working in a (mostly) creative profession, living in a (mostly) progressive city in a (mostly) democratic country, I feel like I exist in a network where certain opinions, attitudes and outlooks are considered normal and appropriate.  Our profession seems to be dominated by people who are slightly left of centre when it comes to issues of a political or social nature and sometimes it feels like there is no room for someone to diverge from popular opinion. It's almost like there are a set of opinions that are considered the "right" opinions on topics like religion, unions, politicians, climate change, poverty, etc. and when someone tries to share a different thought, even if it's only a slight variation on the commonly accepted viewpoint, it is not always accepted in the spirit of debate.

For example, while I can see how someone like Toronto mayor, Rob Ford turns many people off, I am not in complete disagreement with all of his ideas. I feel like I'm intelligent enough to make this assertion and I generally do my own research before forming opinions.  However, judging from the end-of-the-world tone of the local Twittersphere when he was elected, I don't know if I'd be comfortable sharing this on Twitter.

Some people have gone so far as to set up Twitter alter egos so that they might have their professional, politically-correct Twitter handles with their own photo, as well as another, anonymous one that they use when they need to put someone in their place or share an opinion that could be unpopular.  I know some of these people personally. They are not crazy right-wing nutcases with wild opinions but they are savvy enough to know that holding certain opinions is tantamount to professional and/or social media suicide.   The alter ego idea appeals to me but I don't trust my ability to keep my two accounts separate so it's a recipe for disaster.

As I write this, it occurs to me that I might be too sensitive.  A friend said to me once that if you're afraid to annoy people on social media you're not doing it right.  It's food for thought and I'm seriously considering it. But will you still like me?

When There's Bad News, A Little Accountability Goes A Long Way

Don't be afraid to face the music...

There's a situation happening in my kids' school.  We live in a high-growth area and we've been informed that plans are afoot to build a new school and move some of the children there in 2014.  Depending on how invested parents are in a particular school, news like this prompts various degrees of panic and within a few weeks, the rumours were flying.  To allay their fears, some school board officials offered to meet with parents and answer questions.  An email distribution list was created, parents shared their questions and concerns and, since we were no longer officially in a communications vacuum, the rumours died down.  To make things easier for the school officials, we even sent them our questions ahead of time.

Alas, the meeting was cancelled for no reason (at least none that was shared) and postponed for at least eight months.  Follow-up emails were not answered. 

Without the benefit of an explanation for their sudden change of heart, speculation ran rampant and most people concluded that the school board officials had "chickened out" once they saw the questions.  This could be true.  Or it could be something else much less damning but we don't know because we weren't told.  While chatting with a fellow parent, I suggested that no one can get upset with you when you are sharing information in a kind way.  It's a bit of a throwaway line but what I mean is, any time you're in a situation where you have to tell people things they don't want to hear, the medium is almost as important as the message.

I have had many opportunities to share disappointing, unwelcome or just plain "bad" news in my life and I know without a doubt, that it is always better to face the music, stand in front of people, and tell them what you know.  Even if you know nothing, even if you can't answer a single question, you need to stand there, listen to your stakeholders, acknowledge their fears, address what you can, promise to follow up on things and apologize where necessary.  And, where there's an issue of importance to a group of people to whom you're accountable, don't cancel a scheduled meeting.  Even if you think your presence will not be beneficial, be honest and let them decide if they still want to meet with you.  They probably will and if they don't, they'll appreciate your honesty. 

Should You Interview Your Childhood Bully?

Why me?


I didn't have a childhood bully.  Like every other kid I had moments of extreme humiliation and embarrassment as a result of occasional bullying but I didn't have my own personal bully, someone who picked on me relentlessly over a long period of time.

But I witnessed a lot of bullying and mean-girling as a child and teenager and while I didn't actively participate, I'm ashamed to say that I stood on the sidelines and never attempted to rescue someone from their tormentor.  My parents taught us the importance of kindness and compassion but for most of my school life, my desire to fit in was greater than any sense of obligation to help others.  Looking back, I can see that I was just too insecure in my own skin to come to the defense of someone else.  Although I squirmed when I saw girls being bullied, I was just so relieved that it wasn't me that I stayed silent.  My inability to speak up has haunted me in the intervening decades and I often wonder whatever happened to one girl in grade five who was bullied every single day because she was poor, socially awkward and often wore her brother's hand-me-down clothes. I hope she's happy and fulfilled and that she never thinks about those days but what if she's permanently scarred?  What if the bullies, and me through my inaction, had such a negative impact on her confidence that she never hit her stride in life?

So I was intrigued by a Salon series,Interview With My Bully which encourages adults to track down their childhood bullies confront them and write about the experience. The published essays are fascinating.  Though the authors are successful, accomplished, mostly-happy adults, they have been unable to let go of the painful memories caused by a childhood bully and have tracked them down in the hopes of answering the question that has been bothering them for decades - Why me?  Some of the bullies are truly apologetic and welcome the chance to relieve their own conscience.  Others are surprised that they were capable of inflicting so much pain and are shocked to hear that they have been on someone's mind for so long.  And sadly, a few are still the horrible people they were at age 10, like the woman in the most recent essay who went on Facebook immediately after her interview to insult the person she had bullied as a child.

Most of the essayists are in their late 30s or early 40s which not only tends to be a time of reflection or renewal but also often coincides with their own kids reaching middle school.  They came of age at a time when bullying wasn't properly addressed in the school setting and in fact, many teachers could be considered bullies themselves.  Yes, I'm talking to you grade six gym teacher.  Today, bullying is discussed at length.      School boards have sweeping zero-tolerance policies.  Celebrities pledge their support for anti-bullying campaigns and in theory at least, children are supposed to feel more comfortable talking about it.  And yet, it continues.  Here in Toronto, there is a very disturbing case in the courts about a disabled youth who was bullied so mercilessly that he committed suicide.

Were you bullied as a child?  Were you a bully yourself?  Or, like me, did you stand by and do nothing while someone else was bullied?  If so, you'll find these essays very moving and maybe even be inspired to get in touch with some of the people from your school days.