Remember passing notes in class?
There was something special that went into taking a hand and pen to paper, origami-ing it into a hat-boat thingy, folding it in on itself with a little tab opening, and then decorating the outside. Man, I remember the feeling of getting one of those from my middle school prince charming – all eleven years of him – there for me to adore, along with the words he took time to write. On paper. For me.
Whatever girlfriends he had before or after our blissful pre-adolescent dalliance – they’d never get the same cursive “A” that I did. And when he wrote the exact same Ginuine lyrics for Jennifer three periods later, at least it wouldn’t be a copy and paste.
And there’s a scientific element to this too. Studies show that cursive is actually good for development because it teaches the brain functional specialization (that means the brain can integrate stuff like sensation, thinking, and movement efficiently). MRI tests showed multiple areas activating at once that are responsible for good motor coordination. And all my childhood liaisons were building up them thinking skills too; research has further shown that writing, drawing, and creating with a pen or pencil in general activates both hemispheres of the brain. Unlike tracing. Or typing (which I’m doing right now – and which explains the quality of my work.)
Maybe I should just start keeping a Judy Blume diary and scanning it into here…
“Dear Diary… Hitler is a fugly SLUT! This girl is the nastiest skank b**ch I’ve ever met. DO NOT TRUST HER.” #burnbook #UnintendedRacistZing
While cursive is optimal because it enhances our visual recognition skills, even regular old print beats out technology when it comes to honing our dome meat.
I think the day I saw my teacher friends post exam essays from students who used “2” for “too” or “to”, I began to lose hope in the next rung of humanity being groomed. Then, seeing the from-the-next-room texts between ten year olds trolling their mom who’re trying to do chores for them – sorta sealed that feeling in.
However, this little note my friend found restored my hope somewhat…
The young lady who didn’t sign this eloquent piece of literature really drives my point home. Do you see how she worked out her feelings of envy right there on loose leaf? And how much better it is when there’s no ping-pong interim provided for “let me just type this one line and see if they reply”….?
The evolution of her self-psychotherapy goes:
1. “I’m just a little jealous of Zaria”
2. Passive aggressive sweater-lending to Zaria comment
3. “I’m DEFINITELY NOT jealous of Zaria”
Yeah right, darling. We know what you’re thinkin’.
As I said in my comment – I totes approve.
Our anonymous author thought about how she felt for longer than a .5 second key tap before expressing it, had to mentally double check (“Am I sure I want him to read this?”) before she passed it to him, and now has time to think about other stuff while he replies
(knowing notes take longer and that he didn’t just read her text and ignore it)…
Indeed, she’s writing it out versus outsourcing the task to Siri.
And she’ll be better for it later.
Even if she is totally jealous of Zaria.