Handwriting - what makes a good hand?

There's been some discussion lately about the value and importance of handwriting. My handwriting these days is situational. How it looks will depend on the circumstances of its production. If I'm writing a card or letter (yes, I still do that sometimes) I still use the looping, sloped "running writing" I learnt at primary school; but if I'm scribbling notes to myself, it's a more upright and messy version. Writing on flip charts and white boards, I am told that I have a good, strong hand.

My study of penmanship occurred at a time when class time was dedicated to the practice of letters. Exercise books ruled with blue lines to fit letters between and red lines to guide the length of ascending and descending loops were filled with copies of individual letters. Once perfected, the letters would be joined to make words and those words would be endlessly copied.

I was also subjected to the variations of education systems when state borders are crossed.  In NSW where my career in penmanship began, we were taught Modern Cursive. As the name suggests it was a modernised version of "running writing" - all the loops were removed and the uppercase letters were basically the same as the printed letters, but they leaned to the right. Gone were those beautiful fancy captial efs and kays; the es was stripped of its flourish and the el was just two perpendicular lines. How would that have looked embroidered on Laverne's breast? There was no drama, just function. When I moved north across the border to Queensland, they were still doing a version of Copperplate, a little less fancy than actual Copperplate, and I don't know what it's called, but it was better. There were more loops, swirls and I just liked it. I went wild. (I was also really good at drawing treble clefs, so maybe all that practice just translated to the letters.)

Perhaps I had been influenced by my Grandfather's pride in his own handwriting. From an early age, my siblings and I were encouraged to write letters to our grandparents. I've seen some of my early work, written in pencil, and while the prose is a bit lacking (of the "hi-how-are-you-I-am-well-variety") those letters were legible. The importance of having a good "hand" was impressed upon me early. The character of others could be immediately discerned. Being described in very serious tones as having a "good hand" or a "lovely hand" was far better than being described as being a "tight knitter" or a "loose knitter".The tones describing the latter were doom-laden and accompanied by knowing glances and shaking heads. For example, "Oh, yes, well, you know, she's a very tight knitter. Very tight." Or, worse, "What do you expect? She's a terribly loose knitter you know." They were actually talking about knitting, weren't they?

Of course, back in those days, the ability to write a letter was an essential communication tool; as was the ability for others to be able to read it. Who writes letters anymore? Well I do. Recently I wrote a letter to a friend specifically because he said that no one ever writes him letters anymore. Sometimes I will write a letter to commemorate a special occasion or even just to express a feeling that deserves to live beyond the five minutes after it is emailed or tweeted. Just last year, I wrote a letter to an 85 year old woman in response to the Christmas card she had sent me. She's Jewish and I agonised about whether to send a Christmas card. I should have just written her a letter anyway. It was a lovely letter -full of descriptions of the garden and the visiting wildlife - one I would have been happy to receive, and was pleased to have written.

I have more than a passing interest in typography. This interest was piqued early in my days of journalism study. When we studied print, we learnt about physical layout of type and a page. I'm not old enough to have been composing with metal type and tweezers, but it was still a time, pre-computer software, when the term "cut and paste" was literal. I will soon be attending a workshop which is all about hand lettering. I know I will swoon as I smell the ink and then hear and feel the sound of the pen on paper. It's pleasing to see a page filled with letters, those letters forming words and fitting on the page in a pleasing and easy to read way.

I wonder how my Grandfather observed his own experience of writing by hand. Even his shopping lists were written in the same formal hand. Had he been to university, I can't imagine that his notes would have been scrawled. (He didn't finish high school.)

I'm lucky to still have samples of his writing. I'm sharing with you now, not only his handwriting, but also part of the story of my family, the Fife family from Ireland. Grandfather wrote this piece for a history of the family which was published to coincide with a family reunion in the mid 1990's. I remember him reading it to those gathered at the reunion because, as far as anyone knew, he was the last man alive to know Nixon Fife, one of five children who was sent by his father from Ireland to Australia during the 19th Century famine. As far as I know, Grandfather never owned a computer and probably never even used a type writer.

From my maternal Grandfather, Eric Hilma Brown, who was born  3 July 1912 and died 7 April 2001.

Is handwriting important? How's yours these days?

Emotional rollercoaster - getting what you want with only a look

When was the last time you had a really good belly laugh? The kind that leaves you sore and weak and happy to feel like that? What set you off?

I had one last night. On the telephone with one of my oldest friends, we laughed and laughed and laughed.

One of the things I love about talking to really old friends is the shared language that develops. There's a shared history mythology and recurring gags and moments to be endlessly referenced. I laughed until tears were rolling.

It was a good set up for today's work where I was making my annual appearance as the power crazed bullying doctor. My character is the kind of person who causes people to move out of the way with a mere look. One of my favourite moments of the day was when a student had bags on the floor which were blocking my pathway. I said nothing, just looked at the bags and waited. Soon the bags were being moved and the student was nervously apologising.

I took 30 minutes to shake the role off before I left the dressing room tonight. I sat and chatted to my fellow actors and felt the character lift up off my shoulders. I felt my face relax as I rediscovered myself and people started to relate to me normally again.

Anger and frustration that has accumulated over the last year was poured into the role. How lucky I am to have a place to channel it. I hope I'll have enough for tomorrow!

After the work today I went out with friends who had been working on the same job. Our meal was accompanied by raucous conversation and lots of laughing.

So when was the last time you laughed until it hurt? It leaves me exhausted, but I want to do it all the time.

My favourite gig OR why I was being paid to lie in bed and wear pyjamas.

"I can't believe that you don't have a brain injury!" Ordinarily these words might be an insult or cause for concern; today they were the best compliment I received all day. Today I was being a simulated patient in a ward with three others and a mannequin.

The patient had fallen off a ladder and now had a brain injury. Such a simple thing and suddenly this woman is confronting a completely changed life. Her walking, eating and cognitive function is affected. After my recent mishaps (the bag falling on my head and my knee injury) I have new perspective on the fragility of being okay and fully functioning in the world.

Be careful on ladders!

This week I've been working with different groups of students across the full spectrum of healthcare. Saturday and Sunday was the gynaecologists and obstetricians; Monday and Tuesday it was mental health nursing; Wednesday I was working with orthoptics students; today was nursing, physiotherapy, occupational therapy, social work, nursing and medicine and tomorrow, international medical graduates. It's such a privilege working with these students as they develop their skills and identity within their chosen field. Mostly they are excellent - really interested in people and ready to help; occasionally I notice that they've already lost their empathy.  I think it's because they focus on skills and knowledge and forget there's a person at the centre of it.

Yesterday was the first time I've worked with orthoptists. They come with a lot of equipment and have spent their time practising their technical and clinical skills on each other.  I noticed that many of them didn't explain what they were going to do before they approached the simulated patient. They would just lean over and peel the simulated patient's eyelids back and wonder why there was  a reaction. The were great with equipment and not so great with the people. I asked if any of them had ever suffered the complaint that the simulated patient had (double vision).  None of them had. I asked if they had considered what it would be like to have double vision. None of them had. I asked them who drove to university that day. Sadly most of them had. I asked them how they would have made their way to university if they had double vision. They started to think about life from the patient's perspective. Here was the "ah-ha" moment.

A few of the nursing students today had already developed what I call "nurse tone". There's a particular brand of condescension - talking overly loudly, slowly and using terms like "we" when they mean "you". I really hate that.

Working as a simulated patient has made me a better real patient. Talking to my GP the other day about a referral to a specialist, she asked me what kind of doctor I wanted. "A good one" was my response. She asked me if I was okay with someone who is very direct. Initially I said yes, but then I pictured myself in conversation about my particular issue with a very direct person. I realised exactly what I wanted AND what I didn't want: "I want to be a person, not a [insert body part here]." My GP selected a different doctor for referral.

I'm not sure I would have had the awareness of being a body part, or an illness before working as a simulated patient.  Many times I turn up to play a role and am not referred to by my own name, let alone my character's name.  Instead we gather to cries of "Lungs in here!", "Cancer in room three!" and "Depression follow me to the basement!". So the rot has started to set in as administrators and educators strip the person from the situation and turn us all into cases.

I push back, not moving until I'm referred to by one of my names. I correct people who say they've been happy to "use me" as a simulated patient, suggesting instead, it's a been a pleasure to work with them.

It's wonderful that health care education now gives students the opportunity to work with simulated patients as a proxy for real patients.

Spending the afternoon lying in bed, wearing pyjamas and talking to enthusiastic young people is a gig I love!

Playing the bully - scary and thrilling.

Today my job was to be a bully.  I had to hector, harass and abuse a person in a subordinate role.  This person was going to seek advice from me as a the experienced person who had been identified as their mentor.  In the situation, it was the right thing for them to approach me with questions, but after the encounter, they would have been left disillusioned at least and perhaps traumatised at the most.

On one hand, it is thrilling to play roles where extreme behaviours or emotions need to be portrayed.  It allows me to explore the edges and the depths of what is in me.  It's always an interesting experience as an actor to confront the shadow self and discover the nature of your own darkness.  I also have some experience of bullies and call them up to borrow their behaviours and turn of phrase.

After playing this role repeatedly over the course of the day, I found myself snarling at other people involved in the simulation.  I had to consciously pull myself back.  As I walked down the street, people moved out of my way.  I knew the power of a look - I'd caused people to leave the room I as in just by looking at them.  This is an extremely compelling power to discover.

On the way home I had some errands to do.  I noticed a staff member arguing with a customer in much the same tones I had been using all day.  Again, I had to pull myself back and remember that I was no longer in role.

The reactions of people exposed to the character I am playing interests me.  If I heard someone behaving like my character I would either walk out or ask them to go away.  I would most likely ask them for their name and find a way to draw their behaviour to the attention of someone in authority.

Then I would wonder who their leader is and what messages they have sent that has created this kind of behaviour.

The saddest thing about this character and the scenario within which I am playing it is that she is based on real life experience.  It's exhausting being this person and I noticed that my face looks different - harder, tenser, angrier - when I arrived home this evening.  I immediately washed the character away in the shower.  I know that I have to step into her skin tomorrow.  I'm glad that I can step out again at the end of the day.

This is my post about the Olympic Games.

One of the things I really like about the Olympic Games (or the 'Lympics as they tend to be referred to here) is that they inspire thoughtful discussion and examination of the place of sport in daily and national life.  They also raise questions of character (individual and national), resilience and leadership.

Sport is a great analogy for many things in life.  Having the elite athletes from different countries collected together for the duration of the Games creates a hothouse where all kinds of behaviour is on display.  We can see everything.

Today while planning a workshop session, the person I was in discussion with mentioned positive psychology as an important thread in his work.  He emphasised the need to create a positive mindset where people first congratulate themselves for the things they are doing well, before examining the areas which need work.  This resonates so strongly with me and I see examples of the default setting being negative everywhere.

I responded with the story of Olympic reporting on the now notorious loss of the Australian Men's swimming relay team who went into the event as a certainty for a gold medal.  We all now know that the team swam fourth in the final.  This means they swam the fourth fastest time of the fastest eight teams in the world!  That's pretty fast, from where I stand.  The commentator was being interviewed by the show's anchor (this is what happens when the use of footage is so restricted for broadcasters who don't hold the broadcast rights).  The conversation between the two men was focussed on Australia's "loss" and "failure" for about three minutes.  Having exhausted the criticism, the commentator then highlighted that there had been some good news in the pool on the same night - a silver and a bronze medal had been won by other swimmers.  Discussion on these wins was so limited that I can't even tell you who won the medals!

In the following days the men's relay swimming team - and the individuals in it - have been the subject of endless dissection, criticism and analysis.  In these days of elitism and money in sport, the Olympic ideals seem to have been diluted.  As I think about this it occurs to me that I don't really know what the Olympic ideals are.  If pushed I could probably come up with some fuzzy statements about bringing the world together in peace, using sport as a unifier to celebrate athletic achievement.  I'd throw around words like "sportsmanship" and "fair play" and "development".

I went in search of what the Olympic ideals actually are.  You can find them on the Olympic website under the tab called "Olympism".  The whole charter is available to download.

On page ten, you can find these "Fundamental Principles of Olympism":


1. Olympism is a philosophy of life, exalting and combining in a balanced whole the qualities of body, will and mind. Blending sport with culture and education, Olympism seeks to create a way of life based on the joy of effort, the educational value of good example, social responsibility and respect for universal fundamental ethical principles.

2. The goal of Olympism is to place sport at the service of the harmonious development of humankind, with a view to promoting a peaceful society concerned with the preservation of human dignity.

3. The Olympic Movement is the concerted, organised, universal and permanent action, carried out under the supreme authority of the IOC, of all individuals and entities who are inspired by the values of Olympism. It covers the five continents. It reaches its peak with the bringing together of the world’s athletes at the great sports festival, the Olympic Games. Its symbol is five interlaced rings.

4. The practice of sport is a human right. Every individual must have the possibility of practising sport, without discrimination of any kind and in the Olympic spirit, which requires mutual understanding with a spirit of friendship, solidarity and fair play.

5. Recognising that sport occurs within the framework of society, sports organisations within the Olympic Movement shall have the rights and obligations of autonomy, which include freely establishing and controlling the rules of sport, determining the structure and governance of their organisations, enjoying the right of elections free from any outside influence and the responsibility for ensuring that principles of good governance be applied.

6. Any form of discrimination with regard to a country or a person on grounds of race, religion, politics, gender or otherwise is incompatible with belonging to the Olympic Movement.

7. Belonging to the Olympic Movement requires compliance with the Olympic Charter and recognition by the IOC.

My heart sings when I read these!  What a wonderful, lofty and optimistic set of ideals.  I particularly like the description of the Olympic Games as "the great sports festival" in point three.  It's not described as a contest or a competition.  "Festival" sounds like a celebration and an experience to be enjoyed.

I reckon representing your country at the Olympic Games is a huge achievement and an honour.  Winning a medal is the cream on top.  I know that every athlete would be setting out to win, but there can only be three place getters - I hardly think everyone else in the field is a loser.

(Even as I write, the introductory line in a story on the radio news was "James Magnusson has the opportunity to move on from his disappointment in the pool tonight..." Why does what a champion swimmer is about to do have to be framed in terms of their previous "failure".)

Last night's panel on Q&A contained athletes from a variety of sports and the conversation was excellent - measured, intelligent and thoughtful.  The panellists were asked about all kinds of things and this prompted a discussion about athletes as role models.  A question was posed about whether it's appropriate for an athlete to have a political agenda.  I was surprised!  Surely every human being has a political agenda, even if they don't call it that.  Why should a sports person be precluded from being an agent for change or good in their community?

All of the social considerations aside, I love the Olympic Games.  I discover obscure sports and become an expert on the technicalities of these sports. I'm not a big sports watcher generally, but I'll watch the Olympics when I can.  The medal ceremonies undo me!  I cry the minute the flag goes up and the national anthem starts playing.  There's something about the pride, joy and sense of achievement (and perhaps relief) that the athletes show.

It's very lucky I'm not an Olympic athlete.  I don't know how I'd cope.  I'd spend the whole time crying.  But at least I'd have Kleenex tissues as a major sponsor!

I'm off to see when the fencing, equestrian eventing or clay target shooting is on.

Are you watching the Olympics?  What's your favourite sport to watch?  Do you think the spirit of Olympism is alive and well?
***********
IT'S MY BIRTHDAY & YOU GET THE GIFTS!
As I contemplate renewing my commitment to divacultura for another year, I feel excitement and affection.  Thank you for sharing some of your time with me. As a thank you gift - and so I can gain a better sense of who's out there - I'll be giving away a pair of my hand knitted socks to two very lucky readers, where ever you are in the world (ie two readers will receive a pair of socks each).  To be in the running, leave a comment on this post by Friday 17 August 2012, stating why you like reading divacultura. My favourite responses will receive the prize (my decision is final).  Why not take the opportunity to sign up and follow too!