Eroding handwriting skills a sign of our times

How long has it been since you wrote someone a letter, in cursive?
It’s been a while for me, and truth be told I found myself struggling when I did to get to the end of the page without stumbling over my own fingers.
Wow. When did that happen, and why all of a sudden is the power of the pen handicapped by what was once a given skill set?
Like many of my fellow Baby Boomers, I was taught to write in cursive at a very young age, polishing my curves and literary connections with page after page of practice. That rudimentary approach wasn’t pretty, and required incredible patience for elementary teachers across the land, but it was effective. The end result, from my own experience, was that my handwriting was never stylish, but it was functional, and when I really needed it to be, readable.
That’s not the case in today’s world as I’m becoming more aware of a growing lack of penmanship skills in today’s youth. These days, which in this case counts back a decade or more, many youngsters are no longer taught cursive writing in elementary school, or anywhere else for that matter. They type absolutely everything, first on a cell phone screen and eventually on a keypad, which deleted the art of penmanship in less than a generation.
A good friend of mine confided recently that one of his own children, a bright middle school student in every sense, could not sign his own name in cursive. Another educator friend shared that a team poster signed by every player on the squad was memorable, not only because of the season itself, but because not one of the names written by hand could be deciphered.
I was shocked when I first heard that, but have since been told by several others with kids in middle school and high school that signing one’s John Henry is not a priority. That’s a troubling trend, I would think, if for no other reason than that everyone needs a distinguishable way to tell the world that this is me, officially signing off on an important document or life decision.
Doctors and lawyers have long had a reputation for scribbling their name in code. Perhaps that’s because they have to sign it so often, or at least they did before DocuSign, fingertip computer screens and other tech-related short-cuts saved them the time and trouble. 
With that in mind, I distinctly remember focusing my cursive prowess on my own name at some point in high school. I practiced my capital K until I found a repeatable look I liked, and then eventually added a swoosh on my t which made my signature my own. Oddly enough, that’s about all that comes naturally to me these days when I pick up a pen, even if just to add a personal note to a birthday card or Christmas letter. I find myself having to slow down and think through the letters ahead in order to make it legible due to sheer lack of practice.
Arnold Palmer, who probably signed his signature more than anyone of his generation, had the autograph gig down to an art form. In fact, Arnie was quoted later in life by some of the world’s most famous athletes and entertainers as saying that an autograph didn’t mean nearly as much if you couldn’t read it. Arnie was famous for his genuine, hand-written letters, many of which are framed as prized possessions to this day.
Call me old school, but I think Arnie had a point about making your signature sincere, and easy to read. We can and do use Siri, Alexa, ChatGPT and any of the many tech tools of our day to help us communicate, but like an old-fashioned handshake, a signature that is unique and distinctly your own still means something.
KURT JOHNSON can be reached at kjohnson@ hamilton.net