By DIANE D. DENISH
Corner To Corner

One of my grandsons recently traveled to Washington, D.C.—his first visit to the nation’s capital. For a young man more at home in 4-H activities in rural Colorado, I imagined the sights and sounds would leave an impression.

On the final day of his trip, I called to ask about his favorite moments. To my surprise, he didn’t mention monuments or museums in general. “I got to see the Declaration of Independence!” he said.

The Declaration, housed in the National Archives alongside the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, is written in cursive—elegant, flowing script from another era. Think of the Constitution’s opening words, “We the People,” written with that unmistakable flourish.

But with some disappointment, he admitted he had a hard time reading it in cursive.

As a middle school student, he hasn’t had a writing class since elementary school. That’s not unusual. For years, cursive instruction quietly faded from classrooms across the country.

How did that happen? In 2010, when Common Core standards were revised, cursive wasn’t explicitly banned—it simply lost priority. Instruction shifted toward keyboarding and digital skills. By 2012–2013, according to the National Education Association, digital tools had become central in both classrooms and students’ daily lives.

The result is a generation far more fluent on a keyboard than with a pen.

There are differing opinions about the value of cursive, but research is increasingly clear: handwriting and keyboarding engage the brain differently. Writing in cursive requires fine motor skills and reinforces neural pathways tied to memory and learning. The repetition involved in mastering cursive—practice, correction, and refinement—strengthens cognitive development in ways typing does not.

That may help explain why cursive is making a comeback. Today, more than half the states either require or strongly encourage cursive instruction. New Mexico is not among them, though some districts still promote handwriting.

The renewed interest isn’t just about nostalgia. It’s also practical. Many young people today don’t have a consistent signature. They can print their names or use a digital signature, but the personal, distinctive mark that once defined identity is fading.

There’s also a deeper concern. Much of our nation’s history is recorded in cursive—documents, letters, journals. Without the ability to read it, those primary sources become less accessible, more distant. Educators, parents, and even students recognize that gap.

Research adds another layer: writing by hand improves memory retention and comprehension. Students who take notes longhand often process information more deeply than those who type it.

Teachers understand these benefits. They’ve seen firsthand the difference in critical thinking when students write something out versus tapping it on a keyboard. At the same time, they face real constraints. Adding cursive back into already crowded curricula isn’t simple.

So who will keep cursive alive?

Surprisingly, it may not be lawmakers or school mandates.

It’s kids.

Across the country, after-school cursive clubs are popping up—students choosing to learn what could have become a lost art. They’re drawn to its individuality. Cursive is personal. It can be elegant or messy, precise or expressive—but it is uniquely yours.

In a digital world of uniform fonts and auto-correct, that kind of individuality stands out.

And maybe that’s the real story: cursive isn’t just coming back because older generations miss it. It’s coming back because young people are discovering something meaningful in it for themselves.

I’m happy to put the future of an old tradition and by some measure an art in the hands of those who are just discovering it.