Cursive

Darius Riley displays the concentration of a tightrope walker as he fastens his eyes on the lined paper in front of him and grips his No. 2 yellow pencil down to its point to make his most perfect curly letters. "I would rather do it in print because it is faster," Darius, a fifth-grader at Highlandtown Elementary School near Patterson Park, said of his cursive writing. Even his typing would probably be quicker, he says. Darius may be in the last generation of students to be taught cursive as states begin dropping the subject in favor of spending time on mastering math, science and other skills.

I am deeply concerned about the schools' plan to stop teaching cursive writing. What other parts of the curriculum will be removed from the classroom? Will the English language be next? I am appalled at the many grammatical errors I hear daily on TV and in conversations. Maybe this is another step backward to the caveman days when we will be communicating with grunts and groans. Cursive writing does not take long to master - it just takes practice, which children seem to enjoy, and it helps develop fine motor coordination.

I don't mean to trivialize the ongoing important discussion regarding "cursive writing" ("Time to cross out cursive?" Nov. 27), but several generations of technically trained students who have attended the premiere engineering high school in Baltimore City learned early on that "printing" is done on a press. Our professors stressed that we "letter by hand" on our engineering plans. Please don't tell me that, after 50 years, those professors that I worshiped were wrong? Could this mean that some of these same writers who talk of building "cement roads" instead of "concrete ones" are also correct?

Despite the fact doctors and lawyers and a few other professionals have a disdain for cursive (decent) handwriting, it is still an essential tool to properly identify a signature especially on documents ("Crossing out cursive?" Nov. 27). Cursive avoidance is not new or recent experience - ask grandparents who receive a "thank you" from grandchildren for gifts that are always printed. Some now even emulate the harsh scribble of the professionals. Richard L. Lelonek, Baltimore

The article "Time to cross out cursive?" (Nov. 27) was appealing to me as a high school senior making plans for college. This issue deserves much attention, especially with the latest technological developments in our culture. Those who argue we should preserve the teaching of writing in cursive to maintain our culture need to realize that our culture has always been about efficiency and innovative ideas, and I would deem the new technology available to students today extremely efficient and innovative.

Despite the fact doctors and lawyers and a few other professionals have a disdain for cursive (decent) handwriting, it is still an essential tool to properly identify a signature especially on documents ("Crossing out cursive?" Nov. 27). Cursive avoidance is not new or recent experience - ask grandparents who receive a "thank you" from grandchildren for gifts that are always printed. Some now even emulate the harsh scribble of the professionals. Richard L. Lelonek, Baltimore

I can tell which of my three sisters has sent me a card by the handwriting on the front of the envelope. We all learned the same cursive style in elementary school, when the subject was taught every day for weeks. I remember the posters of the cursive alphabet above the blackboard, the lined practice paper and the teacher saying, "Round, round, ready, write!" You actually got a separate grade for penmanship. Over the years, my sisters' personalities have imprinted that basic cursive style, but you can still see it underneath Cynthia's precision and Ellen's flourishes.

Andrew Konetzni likes to copy his first name in fancy, fluid cursive letters. He likes the way the letter "A" looks -- a roller coaster loop with a track that trails off into the lowlands of the lowercase "n." "I like the letter `A' because it is part of my name and because of the big loop and the way it slants," said Andrew, an 8-year-old pupil in Barbara Thomas' second-grade class at St. Paul Lutheran School in Catonsville. Andrew's "A's" -- and his "D's," "P's" and "Z's" for that matter -- won him the title this month of state cursive handwriting champion.

My 14-year-old daughter writes me letters from summer camp. Some are on green 3 by 5 cards, some written with a pink marker, some come in envelopes with doodles and clues about what is within. One was written on a riflery range target with bullet holes in it. I have written her, too, about what is going on at home (mostly nothing), our dogs, our upcoming trip to Canada, her college-age brother's comings and goings, and her sister's acquisition of her driver's license. She writes to me about dances and sailing, her bubbly handwriting intimating joy, the oversized and overused exclamation points speaking to the exuberance of her age. It is nice to get these letters, though the meager news she provides barely justifies my anticipation.

In order to advance at work, befriend the office favorites Employees often complain that the boss has favorites - and they're not among them. They say they fear their progress will be hampered by not being part of the inner circle. Now one expert has some advice on how to bridge the gap if you can't become one of the elite: Know the favorites in your organization and cultivate them. In other words, suck up to the anointed persons in other departments. Richard Templar, author of The Rules of Work: The unspoken truth about getting ahead in business (Pearson/Prentice Hall, $16.95)

I don't mean to trivialize the ongoing important discussion regarding "cursive writing" ("Time to cross out cursive?" Nov. 27), but several generations of technically trained students who have attended the premiere engineering high school in Baltimore City learned early on that "printing" is done on a press. Our professors stressed that we "letter by hand" on our engineering plans. Please don't tell me that, after 50 years, those professors that I worshiped were wrong? Could this mean that some of these same writers who talk of building "cement roads" instead of "concrete ones" are also correct?

The article "Time to cross out cursive?" (Nov. 27) was appealing to me as a high school senior making plans for college. This issue deserves much attention, especially with the latest technological developments in our culture. Those who argue we should preserve the teaching of writing in cursive to maintain our culture need to realize that our culture has always been about efficiency and innovative ideas, and I would deem the new technology available to students today extremely efficient and innovative.

Darius Riley displays the concentration of a tightrope walker as he fastens his eyes on the lined paper in front of him and grips his No. 2 yellow pencil down to its point to make his most perfect curly letters. "I would rather do it in print because it is faster," Darius, a fifth-grader at Highlandtown Elementary School near Patterson Park, said of his cursive writing. Even his typing would probably be quicker, he says. Darius may be in the last generation of students to be taught cursive as states begin dropping the subject in favor of spending time on mastering math, science and other skills.

My 14-year-old daughter writes me letters from summer camp. Some are on green 3 by 5 cards, some written with a pink marker, some come in envelopes with doodles and clues about what is within. One was written on a riflery range target with bullet holes in it. I have written her, too, about what is going on at home (mostly nothing), our dogs, our upcoming trip to Canada, her college-age brother's comings and goings, and her sister's acquisition of her driver's license. She writes to me about dances and sailing, her bubbly handwriting intimating joy, the oversized and overused exclamation points speaking to the exuberance of her age. It is nice to get these letters, though the meager news she provides barely justifies my anticipation.

Sister Maura Eichner, a teacher and poet recalled for her spiritual and lyrical writings, died of congestive heart failure Sunday at the School Sisters of Notre Dame retirement home in Woodbrook. She was 94. Born Catherine Alice Eichner in Brooklyn, N.Y., she grew up in the Yorkville section of Manhattan. Her mother died when Sister Maura was young and she was raised by older family members who left lasting inmpressions. In 1986, she wrote of her childhood, where "I was always a little startled, then beguiled, by the sound of my Irish grandfather's voice.

Sister Maura Eichner, a teacher and poet recalled for her spiritual and lyrical writings, died of congestive heart failure Sunday at the School Sisters of Notre Dame retirement home in Woodbrook. She was 94. Born Catherine Alice Eichner in Brooklyn, N.Y., she grew up in the Yorkville section of Manhattan. Her mother died when Sister Maura was young and she was raised by older family members who left lasting inmpressions. In 1986, she wrote of her childhood, where "I was always a little startled, then beguiled, by the sound of my Irish grandfather's voice.

THE CAP ON the upper-case J is back. That's a good thing. Opinion about the cursive capital Q is mixed, but no one likes the simplified upper-case M. It's Thursday noon at the National Catholic Educational Association convention, and a group of teachers from St. John the Evangelist School in northern Baltimore County is discussing arcane details of handwriting over Caesar salad at a downtown hotel. These teachers prove that handwriting lives, despite the computer juggernaut. Two children from their school have won Maryland championships this spring in the National Handwriting Contest.

Every day we write something, yet we never stop to think why we write each individual letter the way we do, or why we put the letters together to form words the way we do. Every day we read something, yet we never stop to think why the printing we read looks the way it does.Some answers, which go back to the Middle Ages, are to be found in "Medieval Writing and Calligraphy" at the Walters Art Gallery. This latest manuscript-gallery exhibit proves a lot more interesting than one might expect, in part because it has been related to modern-day practices through its text and labels.

I can tell which of my three sisters has sent me a card by the handwriting on the front of the envelope. We all learned the same cursive style in elementary school, when the subject was taught every day for weeks. I remember the posters of the cursive alphabet above the blackboard, the lined practice paper and the teacher saying, "Round, round, ready, write!" You actually got a separate grade for penmanship. Over the years, my sisters' personalities have imprinted that basic cursive style, but you can still see it underneath Cynthia's precision and Ellen's flourishes.

Happy Birthday! Including these two words on a greeting card is fairly standard stuff. Or, at least they were until Kat Feuerstein, a graphic designer in Hampden, recently gave them a typographical twist. Thus, the exclamatory birthday wish is printed in large cursive lettering, but captioned by a phrase set in a much smaller font that reads, "you look fantastic for your age." If you're put off by the cheekiness of this rejoinder, Feuerstein isn't terribly concerned, nor does she particularly mourn the loss of you as a potential customer.