February 26, 2022
Editor: Autumn Bryant
Artist: Serena Shen
I am every teacher with poor vision’s worst nightmare: a cursive writer. That might be a little dramatic, but at the very least, I am a minor inconvenience. I have been writing in cursive since I first learned the magnificent skill in fourth grade English class. Every day, right after recess, my classmates would mumble and grumble as we walked in a single-file line back to the classroom. However, I was ecstatic. Why? Because it was time to learn cursive! While my classmates struggled with the strokes, my pen danced effortlessly on the paper. It was the only way I could write as fast as my mind raced. My teacher was so stunned by my enthusiasm for the script that she even gave me extra credit for using it on the states and capitals test.
Most of my classmates, along with the rest of the world, abandoned the art of cursive after fifth grade graduation. Most elementary schools have stopped teaching it all together. For me—it stuck.
How could it not? I love everything about cursive. Each letter in the alphabet is decorated with beautiful swoops and curves. The capital “L” for example is more than just two lines that make a right angle, but a romantically twirled line used to proclaim equally romantically words like “Love” and “Lust.” Words are also created by a literal, physical connection of letters displaying their dependence on one another. Take the word “museum,” one of my favorite words to write. In print, you can clearly see each letter in the word. However, in cursive the word gets tangled in arches and humps, requiring readers to take a step back and draw a connection between each letter to get the whole picture, thus gaining a stronger understanding of the word. Readers continue this technique to read the words, sentences, paragraphs, and pages I write and soon have a better, deeper understanding of the messages that I write in cursive.
What I love most about cursive is the way it transforms the mundane task of writing into something truly beautiful. I’m filled with genuine excitement when I write on paper, something most people wouldn’t think twice about. I’ve recently begun writing letters to family and friends that live out of state to keep them up to date with my life and remind them of how much I love and miss them. I sit down to think deeply about what I want to say and how I want to say it with no room for error, since there is no backspace. I write delicately and slowly to make sure my Pilot G-2 pen doesn’t leak through the page and I don’t make any spelling errors, since there is no autocorrect. When I finish writing, I look down and I don’t see a letter, but a piece of art. Sure, the message I wrote could’ve easily been sent as a text message, but this feels far more personal. The receiver gets to hold onto something I have spent time and energy crafting: a tangible reminder of my feelings for them.
The act of cursive has made me realize that the most minuscule of details can make all the difference and has helped me alter my mindset about the things I write down. My biology notes don’t look like daunting pages of complex material, but a collection of information about the fascinating world around us. Grocery lists don’t look like a list of what’s missing from the pantry, but a list of delicious foods that I’ll be able to enjoy soon. Cursive doesn’t change any of the words on the page, but it makes them feel loved. In a world that is tethered in tragedy, it’s important to look for the little moments of magic that help you romanticize your life. Cursive is such a small change that reminds me of the beauty in everyday life. Maybe cursive isn’t for you, but I encourage you to seek out the simple day-to-day tasks that start a little spark in your soul.