In Love With the Lefties

So I’ve come to appreciate my left hand. I think I’ve always appreciated it and loved it, but even more so after Easter 2012. Because that’s when I took a nice looking left thumb and sliced off the tip using a mandolin – the kitchen gadget, not the instrument. It’ll be a long time before I ever attempt scalloped potatoes again, if ever.

But I digress. Injured thumb notwithstanding, I love being left-handed. There are so many righties in this world, and the left hand is just as good and gets none of the love. I mean, look at all of the connotations between “left“ and “right“: left behind, left out, leftover, two left feet (clumsy), left field (out there, confused) as compared to right (correct), right as rain (a-ok), right minded (not crazy), in the right (justified), and so many more. But why must it be that way?

Over the years, I’ve become accustomed to living in a right-handed world. It’s not easy but lefties persevere. We’ve had to do it since kindergarten – I mean, with three or more left-handed kids and only two pairs of left-handed scissors in art class, one must learn to adapt. And that’s just one example. I bet you righties out there have never stopped to think of all of the things a lefty has to deal with, our lot in life if you will. Some might think of these things as left-handed struggles, but nay I call them opportunities…or more appropriately from my perspective, annoyances. Such as…

Childhood Struggles: 3-Ring Binders, Spiral Notebooks, and High School/College Desks
Back to school should be the happiest time of the year. New school supplies, new wardrobe, first day of school jitters. It’s a time when the only thing you’re responsible for is yourself and going to class. Ah those were the days. Except if you were a lefty. Apparently the school supplies designers cursed the left-handed of the world when they came up with 3-ring binders and spiral bound notebooks. It isn’t enough that every word we wrote in pencil or ink ended up on the back of our hands. It isn’t enough that people gawk at how we hold our hands as we write. Did they ever think the blame could be placed on these evil instruments of documentation? And the desks. Seriously? The right-handers get arm rests? Puh-lease. Let them hold their arm up the entire class and build some muscle like the lefties. Oh and yes, I suppose I should mention that most classrooms did provide at least one left-hand configured desk. Thank you for accommodating the apparently handicapped. By putting ONE desk in the room. At the front. Where none of the cool kids sat. I suppose I’ll suffer through another academic year.

Social Struggles: Dinner Table Seating
The internal mind power that goes into a lefty choosing a seat at the dinner table might surprise you, but I can vouch for every lefty out there that we never choose our seat willy-nilly. We’re thinking of seat-choosing strategies the moment the host/hostess leads us from the waiting area. The one saving grace is if we know another lefty is with us, and then we can happily sit next to each other without another thought, but you can be sure we’ve both thought about it beforehand. Ah to be a righty and just sit wherever we please, but if we did the righty would surely look to the lefty with blame in their eyes the moment the elbows bump, as if it’s our fault and we’re the ones who are backwards.

Kitchen Struggles: Measuring Cups, Soup Ladles, and Can Openers
And what is it with the chefs and cooks of the world? How is it possible that almost every kitchen gadget is inherently designed for righties? Of course lefties can use them, but if we try with our left-hand we get the metric system on the measuring cup. Perhaps if the whole world used the metric system, it’d be okay, but I learned my measuring in cups and ounces. Recipes don’t use the metric system, why should I? And soup ladles. I suppose I can’t complain about this one too much since I never eat soup, but the little lip is not designed for a lefty’s use. The one time I picked up a ladle I was sadly disappointed. And can openers…forget about it. I never even attempted to use anything but my right hand.

I’m sure my fellow left-handers could easily share other examples of the struggles and pains we’ve had to endure. But I’m also sure that every one of them is proud to be a lefty. Wouldn’t change it for the world. Enjoys that little feeling that they are special…not like everyone else. I know I do. Our challenges have turned into advantages in some cases and given us the benefit of adaptability and ambidextrousness. Which means yes, I am passionate about being a lefty. And proud of it.

So if I hesitate sitting down at a restaurant, it’s because I’m scoping the best place to sit without being harassed. If I squint at a measuring cup, it’s because I’m doing the metric system-to-ounces math in my head, unsuccessfully. If you see me using something with my right hand, it’s because the world has forced it upon me my friends. But I carry on. As many others have carried on before me and will continue to long after I’m gone.