Handwriting

IT will come as a surprise to many folk in the UK that American schools have all but given up teaching handwriting. They only require that children can write the individual letters and sign their name. Joining the letters together (cursive writing) is considered an unnecessary skill in the computer age. As teacher Debbie Mattocks told The Washington Post in October 2006:

"I can't think of any other place you need cursive as an adult other than to sign your name. Cursive -- that is so low on the priority list, we really could care less. We are much more concerned that these kids pass their SOLs (standardized tests), and that doesn't require a bit of cursive."

The death knell really sounded for handwriting in America in June 2010 when American States were told they would no longer be required to teach handwriting. Some still do but most prefer to spend their time teaching keyboarding skills.

But before you all start laughing and muttering "only in America", I'd point out that what happens in America generally happens in the UK about five years later. There are good arguments on both sides of the handwriting divide. Some point out that keyboarding is the necessary skill in the 21st century and handwriting is obsolete. Others point out that the same argument could be made for maths since all computers include calculators. Curiously, one argument rarely put forward in defence of handwriting is that it looks beautiful. Historians have tried to argue (unconvincingly) that there is greater accuracy with handwriting but its role as an art form barely gets a mention. So let me mention it. We seem to be embarrassed about art in this country. In 2012 the 'brains' behind the English baccalaureate for 16-year-olds suggested leaving art out completely. Fortunately a sizeable number of teachers raised their voices in alarm. Handwriting can be beautiful and an art form in its own write (calligraphy literally means 'beautiful writing') irrespective of what the writer has to say. I'm not suggesting that every note to the milkman should be on a par with an illuminated manuscript but a good handwritten letter can still capture the attention of the reader in a way that no PowerPoint presentation ever can.

In The Missing Ink: The Lost Art of Handwriting, and Why it Still Matters by Philip Henshaw he makes the point that handwriting takes you closer to the writer than any computer printout ever can. There's something of your personality embedded in your handwriting and this makes reading handwritten letters from your parents, family, old girl or boyfriends particularly enjoyable - and in the future when they have died, will make you feel once again that they are standing next to you. The handwritten letters in the box under my bed includes many from my late mother. There's also one I inherited which was written by my grandfather, Arnold Hogg, to his future wife's father asking for his permission to marry Helen. I don't suppose men do that any more but if they did, it would probably be a text or tweet! And another letter I treasure is one from my grandmother telling me - with great excitement - that she was having a phone installed in her house. It was written in 1972. It would mean an end of ringing the telephone box in Oliver Street, Rugby and hoping that whoever answered would be obliging enough to knock on the door of 42 and ask Mrs Cleaver to take a call. But anyone born from the year 2000 onwards is unlikely to have these memories to look back on. Who prints out emails? Or who can find one stored on their computer that is more than five years old?