Write Me Write Me Not

4 CommentsWednesday • August 17, 2011 • by Imei

While I consider myself an excellent student, there were a couple of subjects in elementary school in which I didn’t quite make the grade. One of them was handwriting [I might have completely wiped my brain about what the other subject was. Geometry, maybe?]. I think I received the evaluation of “acceptable”, which might as well have been worse than death for a Chinese kid with a Tiger Mom who was just waiting for me to declare my interest in becoming a neurosurgeon or a nuclear physicist. The feedback indicated that I needed more practice in making my cursive consistent and clear. But today, my handwriting probably looks artistic and welcoming compared to the scrawl of the average adult. Some people’s handwriting is so illegible, I might not even ask them to write me a note at all. Just email me, I say, knowing that a typed message, while less than personal, is at least legible. Write me [not].

On a weekend trip, I asked my man if he would copy a short paragraph from a book I was reading. He dutifully copied the paragraph, and I looked over his shoulder. He looked at me quizzically.Then I said, “I didn’t know what your writing looked like” [evil grin]. These days, there is little need for people to see one another’s handwriting. We have smartphones, voice memo apps, and tablets. Between the two of us, we did more Facetime on iPad/iPhone then texting. He has the engineer style capitals; I have the mildly loopy cursive that slants to the right. I wondered what a handwriting analyst would say [gee, are any of those even around? Did they all get jobs elsewhere?]. Latent psychopaths, or geniuses? At least our writing was legible, which is less than I can say about some doctor’s handwriting I struggled to decipher in the medical back office.

Update: check out Rachel Belle’s podcast for Kiro 97.3 interview with me on handwriting

What does it mean if we’re raising a generation of people who can’t write? Katia Hetter of CNN.com shares her concerns about a nation of adults who write like children. If children stop handwriting by third or fourth grade because of computers, won’t their handwriting as an adult look like that of a 3rd grader? Will laziness or sloppiness of their script be attributed to their character? Before you defensively whip out a defiant “no way”, think about the last time you saw someone write a note to you that was full of misspellings, grammatical errors, or the lower-case letter “i” dotted with a heart or a flower. What level of intelligence or confidence did you attribute to this person? From a child, the writing looks damn cute. From an adult… well, it’s just a shame.

Nearly every day, I’m on the Internet, searching for pieces of information that inform my world view, fix certain problems, or enhance my life. I’m still surprised to find numerous spelling and grammatical errors in online newspaper articles. People write-in questions to my various blogs, and I do make snap judgments about their ability to express themselves intelligently and succinctly. Do you? What if people had to submit their handwriting as a part of a job interview? How would you a judge a person based on how quickly and neatly s/he wrote you a note? Would you go on a date with someone who’s scrawl was illegible, disjointed, and or child-like? When’s the last time you saw your own handwriting in a friendly note to someone you love?

I’ve always believed there is an art to letter writing. It’s not all forms and templates. I’d rather have two lines of original thought on a sticky note than receive a Hallmark card with someone else’s sentiments. Where might handwriting intersect with your latest artful endeavors and creative relationships?

Post script: the ink and glass pen were purchased from Medici Fine Papers near Pike Place Market, Seattle.