Old fogey here, weighing in on cursive, etc.

My grammar school education included a lot of ratcheting back and forth between boredom and fear. 

The boredom was inevitable, I suppose, given that there were always around 50 kids in the classroom, and the nuns had to teach right down the middle, ignoring the needs of those who struggled and those who could have done with a bit more enrichment in the curriculum. (When I was in seventh grade, our nun took suddenly ill. [As we learned later, she had a nervous breakdown.] It took them a couple of months to find a substitute, and during that time, they doubled us up with the eighth grade. We sat two to a desk, chairs blocking every spare inch of aisle space. One hundred - plus or minus - children in one classroom.)

Talk about boredom. When we were given tests, we were required to spend whatever the allotted time was for taking them, even if you finished in, say, five or ten minutes. And during that allotted time, you weren't allowed to read. You just had to sit there. After one test, I remember sitting there scribbling the words to the Quick Draw McGraw theme song. Which, lo these many years later, I still have rolling around my brain. 

Yipee yi-o ki-ay,

Galloping all the way

Here comes Quick Draw McGraw.

Yipee yi-o ki-ay,

Galloping all the way

Great big star on his chest.

Outdraws all of the rest.

Fastest gun in the west.

The terror was equally memorable. At any time, the nun could turn on you, and no one wanted to be the victim of the wrath of nun. They weren't physically violent, but, man, could they lay the verbal abuse on thick. And even if you weren't the butt of the fury, it was still scary to see insults, belittling words, humiliation, raining down on the head of a classmate. 

What the nuns did do well, however, was teach the fundamentals - at least if you were the style of learner that I was; kids who learned in different modes were left behind. 

I learned to read and spell the old fashioned way: using phonics. 

I learned to write with a presentable hand via the old practice-practice-practice push-pull Palmer Penmanship method.

I learned to do arithmetic in my head. 

And having these skills have held me in good stead over the long arc of my life. Thus I think they're important skills to acquire.

So I was heartened to see that cursive handwriting and the multiplication tables "will become mandatory subjects taught in New Hampshire schools." (The law doesn't cover reading, but two out of three ain't bad.)

Sure, probably 99.99% of written communication these days is electronic. Thus all anyone has to know how to do is type. They don't even need to know how to print, let alone write in cursive. And, given voice recognition technology, learning how to type may be on its way to obsolescence. (Alas, reading is probably on its way out as well. TikTok, TikTok.)

Still, everyone should learn how to read cursive, if only so they can understand what their grandmother's writing in their birthday card. I fear the day when the Post Office rules that people need to print - not write out - an address on that birthday card so that scanners and letter carriers can understand who the addressee is. 

And everyone should learn how to write cursive, too. What if, what if, what if? What if you find yourself without electronics and actually have to write a note. It may not be as dramatic a situation as JFK, marooned on a Pacific Island with his PT 109 squad during World War II, having to carve a HELP message on a coconut. But someday you may need to communicate in a format other than text. And while you could, of course, print that note, it's a whole lot quicker to write cursive than it is to print. 

My writing has deteriorated over the years. Sometimes I can't read a hastily scrawled note to self. But if I put my mind to it, I am capable of writing out a nice, legible note. And I'm pretty sure my fellow old fogeys are happy to get those nice, legible notes. And quite able to read them.

As for mental math: a couple of times a week, we went around the classroom, from kid to kid, put on the spot to solve a simple arithmetic problem in our heads. In retrospect, of course, this must have been humiliating for the kids who didn't have good skills in this arena, but it worked for me. 

I can calculate the tip, and I can do quick estimates so that I know whether something on a bill - or in a business case - is way off.

The multiplication tables, up to 12x, were drilled into us as well. So I can quickly figure out things like whether something is going to fit in the place I want it to fit in. How much fabric I need to cover that chair seat. Etc.

I don't recall ever being called upon IRL to use algebra, let alone trig and calculus. But simple arithmetic: I use it all the time. And it's useful to be able to at least make rough cuts in your mind, even if you don't have access to a pencil and paper to do your calculations on.

When my niece Molly was in grammar school, the multiplication tables weren't taught. That didn't fly with my sister! One summer, she and a fellow multiplication mom decided that their girls were going to learn their tables. And they did, and were rewarded with a trip to the ice cream parlor.

“I see these really as fundamental skills that we are bringing to our students,” said Frank Edelblut, Commissioner of the New Hampshire Department of Education.

“People are saying, ‘Students now have calculators,’” he added. “But what happens is when you have that mental math, it allows you to be more successful because you can, as you’re working through more complex problems, really understand the reasonableness that you’re getting.”

Edelblut said cursive is fundamental as well because the act of writing each letter also helps students with learning disabilities by building neural pathways in their brains. (Source: Boston Globe)

So, yay, neural pathways. And yay, New Hampshire, for bringing back the fundamentals.  

Those nuns were on to something. Who knew?