Elementary school. A time filled with memories of the coolest lunch boxes, first school romances, and energy-fueled recesses. While most of us quickly take for granted the most rudimentary lessons given to us during our most impressionable phase, I look back in gratitude at an invaluable tool I’ve acquired from so long ago. That tool is cursive writing. I am also a left-handed cursive writer which is so rare that I belong on an endangered species list. I use print on occasion when I don’t care about the appearance of my notes but it is not a habitual thing. I wonder why the divide in writing styles has become so far apart. I imagined that almost everyone would use cursive but it seems that since those that are older than us don’t why should we? While ninety percent of the writing populace choose to use the beautifully simplistic print, I choose to be among those weirdos that still write like I’m back in the 18th century. “Why?” I imagine you ask. Well maybe it’s because I feel a need to make use of pointless skills that I wasted my life on during adolescence. Maybe it’s because my print handwriting is atrocious compared to cursive. Maybe I just like connecting my letters because I pretend that they form a little family when combined into a word. Again I must restate that I am a weirdo. Or maybe I believe that it just helps keep alive non-electronic writing in its finest form till paper and pen is wiped out all together. But it seems that all of this manual writing nonsense will be meeting a quick end soon so the debauchery over print and cursive will be obsolete all together. All we can do is wait for the digital wave to swallow us whole and hope that we come out alive.