Recently, in another forum, a woman I used to babysit for was ranting about the fact that "they're no longer teaching cursive in schools." Hmmm.
Ah. Handwriting. When I was growing up, the handwriting in my house was a joy to behold. Daddy went through a spell of being very sick when he was at the age when students were learning cursive. He was stuck in bed for several months, and to make the time pass (this was the 1920's, and even radio wasn't omnipresent), he practiced his penmanship. He developed this wonderful hand, that was pointy, and angular, and...gorgeous. One of my most treasured possessions is four lines of verse he wrote for me, in his own hand.
Momma, on the other hand, was a product of Palmer Method. Moreover, as she was naturally left-hand dominant (back in the 30's, when teachers routinely smashed the hands of students using their left hands for pretty much anything), learning Palmer method with her non-dominant hand was a trial--one, like so many, she assailed, crushed, and danced on in triumph. Her hand was gorgeous--round, flowing. Even when the schleroderma and arthritis made writing a trial, her hand was beautiful and legible.
So it is no wonder that as a child and teenager I wanted my penmanship to be beautiful, but distinctive. I took a bit from Daddy, a lot from Momma, but put my own spin on it. Writing hurts these days, but when I take the time, even now, people look at my handwriting and say "Your handwriting is beautiful," and for a moment it feels like Momma has her hand on one shoulder and Daddy the other, squeezing with pride.
So it may come as a surprise that when Lisa ranted about the lack of cursive instruction in the classroom my response can best be summed up by the phrase "So what?"
Perhaps my problem comes from knowing too much about the history of writing. Our cursive manuscript today is derived primarily from Carolingian Miniscule. Carolingian Miniscule was a hand developed for governing purposes to speed up the time it took to make multiple copies of documents from the Emperor Charlemagne to distribute to vassals and government officials (he who also thought that teaching people to read was a good thing). The calligraphy used before CM was labor intensive and took a significant amount of time, but the connected nature of the letters in CM, which meant fewer lifts of the pen from the vellum or parchment, increased the copier's speed.
Most cursive hands since (excepting extremely ornamented hands like Spencerian and others of that sort) have been devised mostly for legibility and speed of transcription. When the bulk of writing is done by hand, it is essential to make that writing readable and quickly produced.
However, it has been a long time since government and business relied primarily on handwritten documents. And for at least the last twenty years even those documents with sections to be filled in by hand have had,in teeny tiny letters, "Block letters only," or, in more polite circles, "Block letters please." A few years ago the U.S. Postal Service even sent out a communique informing the public that envelopes and packages addressed with cursive script were not guaranteed delivery. Hell--they don't even want you to use upper and lower case!
Even in academia, at every level, more and more "writing" is done in an electronic environment, with a keyboard, even for in-class and standardized tests. And when scribing is done, block letters work perfectly well (and when done with an electronic stylus and pad, block works even better).
Cursive script, as it existed for those of us who were schooled before the 1980's, is not the same as it is now. It does not serve the same utility, and it was for that utility--legible, quickly written documents--that it occupied time in the classroom. Given the amount of material an elementary teacher has to get through, given the time it takes to teach students cursive, if they have no need for it (and, let's face it, they really don't), then teaching it in school becomes uselessly quaint. Cursive script is now most appropriate for calligraphic purposes, and that is how it should be taught. In art class.
However, if they start getting rid of the teaching of writing altogether, I'll have a problem, because that will be throwing the baby away with the bathwater.
I look forward with no more joy than the next person to attics empty of letters written in beautiful cursive hands, where you can tell Grandma's letters from Aunt Josie's without even reading the names, but those days are gone. And holding onto the relic that is the cursive hand will not change that.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Art and Utility
I'm in the process of starting the organizing of the new semester. This involves thinking about assignment sequencing, supporting documents, and myriad other pieces of minutia. Some of it is tedious, some of it is fun, and some of it is perplexing.
The perplexing happened today. One of the textbook companies sent me a new "reader" (an anthology of essays that exemplify "good writing" in various modes, by various authors, throughout the ages) and I was reviewing it to see if there was A) any reason to ask future students to buy it and B) if there were any particularly good essays in it I could use for pedagogical purposes. Well, the answer to both was no.
Let's be clear. The anthology is full of excellent writing, by superior authors. Much of it is interesting, and readable. If this was a book I was considering for a class on "The Art of Personal Essay Writing" or "Provocative Thoughts for the New Millenium" I might easily say of this book "That's it!" in my best Lucy Van Pelt voice. But, no, this is a class called "College English" and there is very little in the book that is a model for college and post-college writers other than the use of Standard English. This is not a modeling to be scorned, but is insufficient for the task at hand. I need something that will model good writing of the type the students will be rewarded for producing, that is consistent with the tasks they will be asked to perform.
Again, it is important to be clear. The essays in the anthology do demonstrate critical thinking, use of evidence, and explication. These are some of what students will be asked to do both within the institution and when they leave its "not-so-ivy-covered" halls. The problem with the essays as exemplars is they are...too "arty." As they should be--they were, for the most part, written for a purpose and an audience that would seek these essays out as part of a leisure activity in which part of the point is to travel along with the slow unraveling of argument in a desultory, often evocative way, during which time the reader revels both in the ideas being presented and the artistry and nuance of the presentation.
Given that one of the things we stress for students is that they attend to the purpose for which the reader comes to the writing as a guide for how the piece should be written, these essays would be ideal for models of the writing leisure reading non-fiction.
However, with the possible exception of one or two assignments in an English 1 class, or the student studying "Creative Writing:Non-fiction," the purposes for which the reader comes to student-written material is unlikely in the extreme to be this kind of writing. As such--these essays as models are worse than useless. They are misleading, and ultimately leave students confused.
Why? Students are most often asked to clearly and articulately argue for a narrowly defined interpretation, course of action, or evaluation; clearly inform a reader about a specific issue, event, or person; or demonstrate understanding in a straightforward manner, even if the understanding itself is nuanced or nebulous. Their readers (whether faculty, fellow students, employers, or co-workers) want the structure to be conventional and the points clearly sign-posted. When evaluating quality, the discerning reader will value an elegant use of language (though they are more likely to reward Dior than Gaga in this), and will enjoy the occasional play of wit or personality, but the personality of the writer should not dominate the writing. If you present the student writer with models by Twain and Didion, Swift and Sartre (and don't even get me on the questionable value of using translated works), personality is often the very meat and bones of the piece, with the actual point being the flourish, not the substance. And the signposts are subtle, sometimes only visible upon re-reading a second or third time. The writing students are asked to do is the type where the readers require clarity on the first pass--and that obligates the writer to certain elements that are almost antithetical to the kind of writing exemplified in this, as well as most, academic "readers."
Further, the length of the pieces is an obstacle--not in the reading (though, truthfully, students quail at the thought of much beyond a 2000)--as a model. For one thing, in most of these cases to make the point the author is trying to make, the way they are trying to make it, requires pieces of this length. They are perfectly appropriate to the writer's goals and the readers' expectations and desires. Again, student writing, particularly at the 100 level, generally runs between 500-1000 words, and the purposes and expectations of the reader are best met within this frame. This requires a different kind of thesis, a different kind of progression, than the kind exemplified in these essays. Once students move outside of our "hallowed halls" the writing they are expected to do will be more within these strictures than that of these beautiful examples of expository prose.
Unfortunately, none of the readers I've found that have examples of the kind of writing students are actually asked to do seem to include examples that are structurally valid models and well-written. They either have all the use of language nuance one would expect of a memo from "Chuck" at "New Zealand Tire and Wreck" about the kegger on Friday after work, or they are a 500-1000 word excerpts from a longer piece (and if you don't want to hear my rant on translations, then you REALLY don't want to hear my rant on excerpts).
Truly, somewhere, somehow, there must be a company willing to put together an anthology of articles 500-2000 words long, non-fiction, from business, science, and social issues (including media, personalities, politics, and culture) that are structurally sound, demonstrate good critical thinking, and are examples of excellent use of grammar, vocabulary, tone, and voice. And, before you ask, no--I'm not willing to ask for a 1 year sabbatical to try to put one together.
So, Dear Santa, next year for Christmas, I would like....
The perplexing happened today. One of the textbook companies sent me a new "reader" (an anthology of essays that exemplify "good writing" in various modes, by various authors, throughout the ages) and I was reviewing it to see if there was A) any reason to ask future students to buy it and B) if there were any particularly good essays in it I could use for pedagogical purposes. Well, the answer to both was no.
Let's be clear. The anthology is full of excellent writing, by superior authors. Much of it is interesting, and readable. If this was a book I was considering for a class on "The Art of Personal Essay Writing" or "Provocative Thoughts for the New Millenium" I might easily say of this book "That's it!" in my best Lucy Van Pelt voice. But, no, this is a class called "College English" and there is very little in the book that is a model for college and post-college writers other than the use of Standard English. This is not a modeling to be scorned, but is insufficient for the task at hand. I need something that will model good writing of the type the students will be rewarded for producing, that is consistent with the tasks they will be asked to perform.
Again, it is important to be clear. The essays in the anthology do demonstrate critical thinking, use of evidence, and explication. These are some of what students will be asked to do both within the institution and when they leave its "not-so-ivy-covered" halls. The problem with the essays as exemplars is they are...too "arty." As they should be--they were, for the most part, written for a purpose and an audience that would seek these essays out as part of a leisure activity in which part of the point is to travel along with the slow unraveling of argument in a desultory, often evocative way, during which time the reader revels both in the ideas being presented and the artistry and nuance of the presentation.
Given that one of the things we stress for students is that they attend to the purpose for which the reader comes to the writing as a guide for how the piece should be written, these essays would be ideal for models of the writing leisure reading non-fiction.
However, with the possible exception of one or two assignments in an English 1 class, or the student studying "Creative Writing:Non-fiction," the purposes for which the reader comes to student-written material is unlikely in the extreme to be this kind of writing. As such--these essays as models are worse than useless. They are misleading, and ultimately leave students confused.
Why? Students are most often asked to clearly and articulately argue for a narrowly defined interpretation, course of action, or evaluation; clearly inform a reader about a specific issue, event, or person; or demonstrate understanding in a straightforward manner, even if the understanding itself is nuanced or nebulous. Their readers (whether faculty, fellow students, employers, or co-workers) want the structure to be conventional and the points clearly sign-posted. When evaluating quality, the discerning reader will value an elegant use of language (though they are more likely to reward Dior than Gaga in this), and will enjoy the occasional play of wit or personality, but the personality of the writer should not dominate the writing. If you present the student writer with models by Twain and Didion, Swift and Sartre (and don't even get me on the questionable value of using translated works), personality is often the very meat and bones of the piece, with the actual point being the flourish, not the substance. And the signposts are subtle, sometimes only visible upon re-reading a second or third time. The writing students are asked to do is the type where the readers require clarity on the first pass--and that obligates the writer to certain elements that are almost antithetical to the kind of writing exemplified in this, as well as most, academic "readers."
Further, the length of the pieces is an obstacle--not in the reading (though, truthfully, students quail at the thought of much beyond a 2000)--as a model. For one thing, in most of these cases to make the point the author is trying to make, the way they are trying to make it, requires pieces of this length. They are perfectly appropriate to the writer's goals and the readers' expectations and desires. Again, student writing, particularly at the 100 level, generally runs between 500-1000 words, and the purposes and expectations of the reader are best met within this frame. This requires a different kind of thesis, a different kind of progression, than the kind exemplified in these essays. Once students move outside of our "hallowed halls" the writing they are expected to do will be more within these strictures than that of these beautiful examples of expository prose.
Unfortunately, none of the readers I've found that have examples of the kind of writing students are actually asked to do seem to include examples that are structurally valid models and well-written. They either have all the use of language nuance one would expect of a memo from "Chuck" at "New Zealand Tire and Wreck" about the kegger on Friday after work, or they are a 500-1000 word excerpts from a longer piece (and if you don't want to hear my rant on translations, then you REALLY don't want to hear my rant on excerpts).
Truly, somewhere, somehow, there must be a company willing to put together an anthology of articles 500-2000 words long, non-fiction, from business, science, and social issues (including media, personalities, politics, and culture) that are structurally sound, demonstrate good critical thinking, and are examples of excellent use of grammar, vocabulary, tone, and voice. And, before you ask, no--I'm not willing to ask for a 1 year sabbatical to try to put one together.
So, Dear Santa, next year for Christmas, I would like....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
