Coded treasure

What I thought could become treasured gifts to my grandchildren might turn into indecipherable codes by the time I pass them on. It was recently called to my attention three times in less than a week that cursive handwriting is nearly obsolete.

Since before each grandchild was born — Harlen, 7, and Amelia, 3 — I have kept a journal for them written in cursive. The plan is to give these diaries to them when they turn 18 or graduate from high school. Even so, that age may still be too young for my gifts to really be appreciated.

If any of my daughter’s friends are reading this, she doesn’t yet know about these journals, so please don’t spill the beans. At first I didn’t want to tell her because I didn’t know if I could actually be diligent enough to keep up with such a big commitment. Now, I just want it to be a surprise for her, too.

My husband and I have never lived in the same state as our grandchildren, but for five years we spent a month each fall and spring with them, living in our travel trailer in a nearby RV park as snowbirds. Through the years there have also been phone calls, emails and in this past year, video visits over the Internet.

I write down the important events — first tooth, first steps, first haircut, first day of school, funny things they say, personality traits, etc. Usually it’s in the form of dated, hurried, sloppy cursive handwritten notes. Then I transfer the information into their journals at a later date, usually several entries at a time. Because of a major health issue when Harlen was 2 years old, I once got six months behind, but eventually caught up.

At the beginning of this project, I never even considered printing. Cursive is my natural handwriting and so much faster. But, I did determine to use my best handwriting so they wouldn’t have trouble reading them and I also chose to use a lead pencil for neater corrections.

My daughter actually supplied the seed for this project years ago when she gave me a beautiful brown leather journal. It was so special, I really didn’t want to spoil it with my sloppy handwriting. When she called to say that she was expecting a son, I knew immediately where to record that wonderful news. I am now writing in a third brown leather book for Harlen.

When we learned about Harlen’s new little brother or sister to be, I started taking notes, but decided to wait until the baby was born before buying another special journal. When I went to the bookstore to pick out something special for Amelia, I chose a beautiful green vegetation print, and I purchased five of them so I wouldn’t run out if they were discontinued.

Shortly after Harlen was born, my youngest sister, who has seven children, started having grandchildren, also. Currently she has eight with the potential for many more. I’ve been known to tackle momentous projects, but even I wouldn’t attempt keeping journals for so many grandchildren!

Part of my reason for this project was that as a parent of young children years ago, I felt certain I would remember all those special events. But a number of children and many memories later, it all starts to run together. The details are lost.

Earlier this spring, a couple in their 80s (family friends since before I was born) stopped in to visit me after skiing in the Government Hill area of Hatcher Pass. We discussed many topics during our visit, but in particular, they related an experience where a young friend of theirs told them he couldn’t read the cursive note that was written to him. That made an impression, but it didn’t make me think about my grandchildren’s journals.

A few days later, I saw an article in the Anchorage Daily News headlined, “Handwriting: Who needs it? Not schools.” The article stated, “Cursive writing is a traditional skill that has been replaced with technology” and went on to explain the situation. Immediately the thought struck me: What if my grandkids can’t read their journals? What a revolting development! Cursive handwriting has been around for hundreds of years, so why does it have to change during the exact generation that will affect my grandchildren?

Then a few days later while reading the daily newspaper comics, I noticed one cartoon figure say to another, “Teddy, the man is ancient. He writes in cursive!” There was that cursive word again.

Having learned from experience about inaccessible secret language, I had no intension of giving a gift that needs decoding. In the early 1990s, I came across a letter I had written in high school to my boyfriend (who later became my husband). But I had written it in shorthand and after 20 years of nonuse, I couldn’t read it. At the time, I volunteered at Pioneer Peak School. When I noticed the administrative secretary using shorthand, I asked her if she would transcribe my letter for me. She was agreeable and set up a time after the school day was over.

I was certainly curious, but also a little nervous about what might be the personal nature of the contents. I waited while she silently read and typed the shorthand. When she handed me a typewritten page, I asked about her fee. No charge. Thanks again, Linda Myers-Steele. In the car in the school parking lot, I quickly read the transcription. So much for a secret love letter; the contents were quite benign.

This theme was covered again in an article titled, “A Lost Art: Cursive,” in the June 2013 Reader’s Digest that says public schools in 46 states have eliminated the teaching of cursive writing.

All this makes me think that by 2024 when my grandson turns 18, he may need help from a friend like Myers-Steele to translate my notes. I have considered switching to print for my journal entries, but I think it would be easier to teach my grandkids cursive.

Maraley McMichael is a longtime Mat-Su Valley writer and resident.