In Second - maybe Third- grade, my class had to write in a journal every day and it had to be in cursive. The teacher would read them, so there was no getting out of it. I still have a few of mine; in one, I rat out the girl who sat next to me for probably, most likely, though I had no proof, stealing my gummy eraser. In another, I dramatically write about a doctor's visit in whence he tells me that I have, "symptoms," and I wonder, could a kid ever die from this disease called, "symptoms," and should I even have to be be going to school anymore? In all of them, my cursive is a disaster. If you held the pages out at an arms length, they would best depict, not words but an abstract pencil drawing of many sheep in motion. Deciphering it is a challenge, like uncovering an ancient script. Which, coincidentally, seems to be the road that cursive is headed down these days. I was reading an article about how schools across America aren't teaching cursive anymore. While I get it, I'm still a nostalgic person and it gave me a slight case of the sads. So, in honor of 2nd grade journals everywhere, how about a little cursive celebration?