I have always suspected that had English not been the language of America then the likelihood that it would become the world’s lingua franca might have been severely lessened. But, like many of my countrymen, I find it hard to suppress a shiver whenever I come across another Americanism in what ought to be a perfectly good piece of English literature. Yet, suppress it, I frequently do. Language evolves and, at present, English is evolving into American.
That doesn’t mean I won’t point out to students that the term, “different than” has no place in any English essay and that there is only one thing you do in a bathroom and it isn’t what Americans think it is but, by and large, I know when I’m fighting a losing battle. However, the latest shot across the bows of English is one about which I might it find it rather more difficult to remain sanguine.
For I learn today, that Indiana has become the latest American state to no longer require children to learn cursive – joined up – handwriting. The rationale is that they are unlikely to need that skill in the future and so keyboard skills are taught instead.
Doubtless, keyboard skills are important – at least for the time being – but I fear that the decision not to provide children the wherewithal to write properly may well be one that the U.S. comes to regret.
In the first place, writing may consist of letters but it is only the relationship of those letters, one with another, which conveys meaning. To put it simply, the base unit is not the atom (a letter), but the molecule (groups of letters) which bind together to form compounds (words). Learning to write using only the letters as laid out on the keyboard (itself little more than an arbitrary compromise at best) will surely rob the molecules of their meaning and character.
I am informed by primary school teachers of my acquaintance, that children learn to read, in part by building phonemes from groups of letters rather than from the letters themselves – “ea” “ch” “oa” “th” “ng” “er” and so on. We butt these together to form words - “each” “other” “oath” “together” “thing” and so on and it is through cursive writing that children learn and practise building these relationships. In other words, joined up writing not only makes that essential connection between the idea and the way it is expressed, it helps children, quite simply, learn how to spell in a way that writing using a keyboard is not able to do.
I realise, though, that spelling is becoming a dying art so perhaps I shouldn’t worry too much. Let’s just leave it to our spell checkers, shall we?
One thing that does concern me a little though is the faith that appears to be being invested in the longevity of the keyboard as interface of choice. How much longer are we going to have to put up with this silly little piece of Victorian mechanics hitched inelegantly to 21st century electronics, this throwback, this sad little chimera? Rather like those 19th century visualisations of machines of the future, powered by wondrous substances but controlled by railway signalling levers and ships’ wheels, it’s an anachronism that surely must be approaching the end of its appointed time.
That doesn’t mean I won’t point out to students that the term, “different than” has no place in any English essay and that there is only one thing you do in a bathroom and it isn’t what Americans think it is but, by and large, I know when I’m fighting a losing battle. However, the latest shot across the bows of English is one about which I might it find it rather more difficult to remain sanguine.
For I learn today, that Indiana has become the latest American state to no longer require children to learn cursive – joined up – handwriting. The rationale is that they are unlikely to need that skill in the future and so keyboard skills are taught instead.
Doubtless, keyboard skills are important – at least for the time being – but I fear that the decision not to provide children the wherewithal to write properly may well be one that the U.S. comes to regret.
In the first place, writing may consist of letters but it is only the relationship of those letters, one with another, which conveys meaning. To put it simply, the base unit is not the atom (a letter), but the molecule (groups of letters) which bind together to form compounds (words). Learning to write using only the letters as laid out on the keyboard (itself little more than an arbitrary compromise at best) will surely rob the molecules of their meaning and character.
I am informed by primary school teachers of my acquaintance, that children learn to read, in part by building phonemes from groups of letters rather than from the letters themselves – “ea” “ch” “oa” “th” “ng” “er” and so on. We butt these together to form words - “each” “other” “oath” “together” “thing” and so on and it is through cursive writing that children learn and practise building these relationships. In other words, joined up writing not only makes that essential connection between the idea and the way it is expressed, it helps children, quite simply, learn how to spell in a way that writing using a keyboard is not able to do.
I realise, though, that spelling is becoming a dying art so perhaps I shouldn’t worry too much. Let’s just leave it to our spell checkers, shall we?
One thing that does concern me a little though is the faith that appears to be being invested in the longevity of the keyboard as interface of choice. How much longer are we going to have to put up with this silly little piece of Victorian mechanics hitched inelegantly to 21st century electronics, this throwback, this sad little chimera? Rather like those 19th century visualisations of machines of the future, powered by wondrous substances but controlled by railway signalling levers and ships’ wheels, it’s an anachronism that surely must be approaching the end of its appointed time.
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