Speech Pathology

While away visiting family and friends, I was not away from the horror of the terror that enveloped Paris. I may have been some 5,600 + miles from Paris, but I could be in the same zone of interest, despite the difference in time zones. I could converse via email with a cousin in Paris, and watch cable news and read analyses on my ipad, and post my sympathies.

Our extraordinary abilities to communicate through fiber optics, cables and signals anywhere, anytime, has transformed civilization in terms of immediate access, but what makes our civilization civilized is our capacity for consideration and compassion. Our advancement in technologies have allowed for an unprecedented flow of communication and movement, which has enabled expressions of hope as well as of hate .

Lately, the pathologies that have distorted and infected our lives with hate have manifested in abuse and violence in carefully orchestrated attacks upon innocents. The hostage takers at the kosher market in Paris spoke fluent French, yet did not speak the same language as their French hostages. The terrorists’ nihilism and dehumanization, was uttered using the same vocalized sounds and words that other French nationals would be familiar with, but there was no connection.

Some have argued that while there is absolutely no justification for violence or abuse, there must be social causes for such disaffection that would enable so many to seek a dangerous and violent path and wage war against Western Civilization. In essence, these people are looking for the pathologies in modern democratic societies that might explain the pathology of terrorism. Freedom, and lately our free speech, whether in the form of a silly comedy movie, or political cartoons, has been threatened with silencing. This is speech pathology!

Often, in cases of medical speech disorders, there is an auditory component. In order to learn language and speak effectively, one must have clear and accurate perception, as well as the structures and strength to create clearly understood speech. Too often, when toddlers are not articulating adequately, there is a hearing deficit. The relationship between being able to hear and speak is inextricable. Even without hearing, there is a capacity for language and communication. Sign language is every bit as expressive, and depends upon perception.

Those who don’t want to hear are seeking to silence the rest of us.This cultural speech pathology has affected those whose perception has them seek to destroy rather than to construct. The speech pathology that we have been witnessing has been so painful because our capacity for communication is so closely intertwined with our humanity and our culture. The pathology of repression and hate, expressed through abuse and violence must always be countered. There is certainly a deficit of hearing and a surfeit of misperception when such pathologies of repression and hate cause those to silence speech and fear freedom.

As I was en route to the airport to head home yesterday, I saw a sign for the “Museum of Tolerance”. I was struck by the idea of exhibiting tolerance. The thought that tolerance as a relic–something housed in a museum– was disturbing. Of course, using historical events as examples of tolerance (and intolerance) are powerful displays of human capacities (and pathologies). Then again, exhibiting tolerance is what we need to do in our daily lives. It’s a sort of speech therapy for the speech and hearing pathologies that have been so threatening.

Script

Cursive!… Foiled again!

Among the seemingly perennial issues in education, there is a resurgence in the concern over no longer teaching handwriting (i.e.cursive English). Given that education is one of those paradoxical institutions that on the one hand has as its aim to prepare for the future, it is also, more often than not, conserving the past. The present state of education is one that generally feels like it is behind the present moment in the rest of our culture. K-12 education tends to play catch-up, rather than lead the culture. As schools across the country are debating and implementing the new Common Core Standards, many teachers have suggested that something’s got to go, and that something will be handwriting, as keyboarding has more  cultural relevance.

Many lament the notion that students may no longer learn cursive. For some, it is a cultural  loss for the next generation(s). In some scientific and educational communities, some point to studies suggesting an academic advantage for elementary students who learn cursive over those who don’t. Is learning cursive a necessity today?

With limited time and money,and mandated testing, many teachers have suggested dropping handwriting lessons from the curriculum. Certainly keyboarding is a necessity in everyday life in ways that handwriting is no longer requisite. Of course there are people who never mastered penmanship and were/are quite intelligent and high achieving. Physicians are not the only ones who can’t write a legible script in script. For those  who are dysgraphic, or perhaps less severely, just not good at handwriting, keyboarding is a gift, and can transform their written communication and ability to achieve. However, one of the more interesting arguments for teaching cursive, is that in practicing the smooth movements connecting letters, mental connections are also made, that are not replicated in keyboarding. The argument continues that even learning to read cursive writing advances certain mental capacities for making connections, as we see and interpret connected symbols.

What may have begun as picking up a twig or a rock and etching symbols in dirt or on caves, progressed into handwriting. With the quill and ink, cursive became more developed as the writing method was employed to limit spills and breakage. Of course, in our age, the keyboard is the most expedient form of non-vocal communication. The most obvious sacrifice in abandoning learning cursive is the individuality–the signature.Even learning the uniformity of the cursive alphabet, handwriting is a uniquely individual enterprise. It can be honed, but handwriting is still not quite anonymous. It’s personalized.

Many cling to teaching handwriting as part of a cultural heritage. Some regard penmanship as an art form. Others tout the importance of fine motor skill development as well as it’s connection to brain development. The detractors focus on the imperative of teaching the most necessary skills for the moment, and handwriting seems like a cultural remnant–irrelevant to the tasks of the future.

It seems to me that the arguments for and against teaching cursive are essentially from a tired script. Many debates in education seem to be either/or in nature. Teaching cursive is slow, and there are so many other things to test. But if teaching cursive can help develop both left and right hemispheres of the brain and their connectivity, then maybe we need to look at other ways to teach and practice writing script. We don’t need to teach cursive just because it was our script. Handwriting may never be used the way it was prior to this moment in history. However, like science, math, history, language, physical education and art, it is a way of seeing and doing that creates connections, and making connections is essential to creativity. Perhaps rethinking our script about teaching script as a remnant of the past, to a practice of creativity, makes handwriting the future.

Future Tense

It used to be that the future was exciting.  Of course, that was in the past. Now, in the present, yesterday’s future, we fear the future. Whether it’s: terrorism, nuclear obliteration, the next super-bug, or super-storm; climate change, crushing debt, or no more jobs; politicians who don’t stand for us, corporations who speak over us, horse meat and hormones, or unriching education, we are growing increasingly more tense about the future.

We have ample evidence today that we have many issues to tackle.  Even more disconcerting, is the rationale against tackling issues. We see how seemingly intractable so many problems have become. People across the political spectrum have dug in their heels, and have been most concerned with ideological purity and political power. Instead of climbing mountains, or even seeing that shining city on a hill, we’re staring down fiscal cliffs. Cynics have divided us into makers and takers (although I’m not sure everyone would agree who’s who). Hope and change became nope and same. Everyone is disgusted and fearful.

Despite the reality upon which our fears are based, we are becoming blinded by the fear. When teaching History to high school students, I remind them of other periods when the world seemed like it was about to end, or at least had turned very dark. When they can imagine their grandparents’ world, and that life continued, and the future included their lives, they can begin to shift their perspectives.

History is a great teacher. So too are the arts. The combination is most effective in conveying ways in which humans have confronted issues and experienced difficulties and forged new ways to shape lives and communities. I encourage teachers to include paintings and music, as well as dance and theatre in their History classes. I also encourage a fusion of History with Math and Science, and of course integrating the arts in those classes as well. Perspective is important in each subject (and in life), and is easily exemplified in the arts. Students in Language Arts classes learn perspective (person) in grammar and literature (through character and voice). Education is not merely the accumulation of facts. It is in fact to enrich (not unrich) our lives; to broaden our perspectives.

As a nation, we have been struggling with accountability in education. Students are assessed; teachers are assessed; and schools are assessed. I’m not sure that our assessments are  actually geared toward improving education, despite the good intentions. Moreover, the focus on those assessments as the determiners of future status for students, teachers, and schools, has created greater tension and a more limited education.

Given the many challenges that we must meet in our schools, our communities, our politics, and in all aspects of our lives, it is easy to be cynical and fearful. When we are fearful, we shut down possibilities. When we nurture our creative instincts, we begin to think in the future tense, creating possibilities and improving  what was started.