They used to call it writing. Now it is cursive and a source of conversation.
Like it was yesterday, (minus 48 years), we can remember Mrs. (Jean) Jackson who taught Grade 2 at Eramosa Public School.
We can’t recall a fellow student who graduated from her class that didn’t know how to read, write or use phonics to power through big words.
The chalk board was topped with each letter of the alphabet, one version with printed letters and the other we knew as written letters. A handy hyphenation delineating the mid-way point, helped with the correct spacing and students learned when to loop and how to precisely place a stick on a line to make a T or and F. It came naturally to some.
About a week ago the current Minister of Education Steve Lecce proclaimed that cursive would be returning to the classroom. As often happens, the union and some teachers talking with reporters expressed great concerns about how to ever incorporate this back into the curriculum. One suggested a two-year period would be needed to get a writing program put together for students. Nonsense we thought, but typical.
The debate on how to teach rages on. Without getting into those conversations too deep, we were amused opening our son’s end of year school bag and finding a notebook with writing samples. It was like a retreat to simpler times and warranted a note to the teacher for helping kids learn this skill.
In response this teacher noted it was a positive for kids to learn how to do their signature. Speaking with another parent we passed along this great initiative only to have that countered with everything is signed digitally now. Never one to give up on these types of conversations we reminded said parent of the hockey draft a night or two earlier. Each one of those teenage boys, who impressed us immeasurably with their confidence and speaking ability, signed their name with a pen. Perhaps the largest moment of their life was signed into being. Not with an X or a fingerprint like an illiterate – they proudly wrote their name.
Admittedly, some of us are stuck in the past, hesitant to go all-in on the latest technology crazes to hit planet earth. But there are some things to be learned from people who have been around for a while.
The modern age allows for great productivity. For example, the ability to edit and type very quickly. Long documents can be formatted and reconfigured easily. In many respects utilizing software has made writers a bit lazier and the thought behind correspondence can be less deep.
Imagine writing a two-page letter without any errors. Thoughts would need to be perfected in a rough draft and once ready to be written, pored over with intention to ensure accuracy and precision. These are skills that transcend simple printing or striking letters on keyboard. It forces the writer to think.
Minister Lecce made a good call on this one. Let’s make a point of writing again.
New resident
A quick beep-beep of the horn around 6:30 in the morning, confirmed something big was going to happen later that day. This followed a text, minutes earlier that just said ‘leaving now’.
The sky, hazy and lethargic, hung over the landscape. Forest fires to the east and north were still wreaking havoc on a swath of North America. Toronto was noted as having some of the poorest air quality in the world for a few days. Nature doesn’t honour borders, enough so that a friend in North Carolina confirmed that state, some 15 hours away by car, was feeling the effects of fires. The smell of smoke hung in the air.
The news that morning, repetitive in so many ways, chronicled conflict here and there around the globe. As 7:20am neared, the trek to the school bus began. This was last Tuesday and the countdown to summer break was on in earnest. Making our way down the lane we pointed to a large love dove roosting on the shed thinking a picture would be good on the way back. By the time the yellow bus headed off in the distance so had the dove, but it had actually moved a little closer to the house, cooing and bobbing as if waiting for some news. Nothing yet, we mumbled under our breath.
After working ahead with purpose the week previous, we decided to leave the office a hair early. Around 4:30 as we walked in the door at home the call finally came in that “he’s here”. The pacing and waiting were over.
Emerson Hugh, first son of Darren and Brooke finally arrived mid-afternoon, Tuesday, June 27.
Everyone is doing well – spectacularly well, everyone thankful for such a blessing to grace our family.
Welcome to the world Emerson and congratulations mom and dad.
