18August2005
I bet you let last Saturday pass without giving a moment’s thought for those of us who suffer day in day out our affliction, our handicap. All in silence without seeking sympathy or special benefits from you the righteous ones. Even though you gave it scant notice last Saturday was a real red letter day for myself and those of us who since early childhood have had to put up with cruel remarks and borne the brunt of negative comment about this affliction. The affliction I’m speaking of is, dare I speak its name, left handedness. Last Saturday was International Left Handers day. The day for left handers to finally come out of the closet and proclaim to the world “I’m proud to be a kackhander.”
Once of my earliest memories, I would have been all of 18 months old, was of one of my mother’s sisters looking into my pram as I assiduously beat my rattle against the side. “Good heavens Molly look how he’s holding that rattle. I think he’s left handed”. Shock and awe. Well I had a rattle in my left hand. My aunt’s keen observation was to manifest itself in so many ways as I ultimately grew to maturity. Like attacking my meal of solids, if that’s what you called mashed carrots, silverbeet and potatoes. I took the spoon in my left hand and have continued to do so to this day. And then there was my first attempt at printing. Instinctively I picked up the pencil with my left hand and wrote “CAT”. Just as plainly as any right handed kid would have done. But I was scolded by my teacher “get that pencil into the other hand.” After three years my mother and my teachers gave up. And so it went on. Swapping my knife and fork on the table. Trying to write with ink without blotting the whole page. If I’d been born in China it probably wouldn’t have mattered. I think the Chinese write from right to left or is it up and down? Try beating an egg with a right handed egg beater in your left hand. Or peeling a spud with a right handed spud peeler. Or kissing a friend on the cheek. We left handers are inclined to go for the left cheek and the right handers go the other way. Because of the confusion this created I gave up the kissing habit years ago. I’ve now opted for the hongi. There’s no confusion there. Right on the nose. Perhaps early Maori were all left handed and so they devised a simple form of salutation which suited both left and right handers. And there’s the scissors. Try cutting your nails with your left hand. Or opening a tin of guavas with your conventional can opener. They’re all designed for the Righteous.
Then there’s all that business about sitting on the right hand. Right from Old Testament times. No way would Abraham have had Isaac’s sitting on his left hand or Jacob sitting on Isaac’s left. The lefties, that’s me and about 13% of the world’s population have been given a hard time. We’re the sinisters – the left handers. We’ve had enough. Now we want to celebrate our affliction. We’ve been silent for too long. The time has come for us to shout from the rooftops with banners and T-shirts. “Kack-handed and proud of it.” Up to now the only organisation of the world have gone out of their way to recognise how special we are, are the world’s railway stations. At most of them you can usually find a place for “Left luggage”.
But I’m not really worried. There’s no doubt that we left handers have a far higher degree of creativity than right handers. You only need to look at this column. Week in week out for years now creatively with my left hand I’ve been writing about nothing. And whats more it shows. One task I’ve yet to master is playing a ukulele left handed. The music seems to come out backwards. Meanwhile lefties unite. Ignore prejudice. Push on. By the left quick march. Left, left, left right left …
Once of my earliest memories, I would have been all of 18 months old, was of one of my mother’s sisters looking into my pram as I assiduously beat my rattle against the side. “Good heavens Molly look how he’s holding that rattle. I think he’s left handed”. Shock and awe. Well I had a rattle in my left hand. My aunt’s keen observation was to manifest itself in so many ways as I ultimately grew to maturity. Like attacking my meal of solids, if that’s what you called mashed carrots, silverbeet and potatoes. I took the spoon in my left hand and have continued to do so to this day. And then there was my first attempt at printing. Instinctively I picked up the pencil with my left hand and wrote “CAT”. Just as plainly as any right handed kid would have done. But I was scolded by my teacher “get that pencil into the other hand.” After three years my mother and my teachers gave up. And so it went on. Swapping my knife and fork on the table. Trying to write with ink without blotting the whole page. If I’d been born in China it probably wouldn’t have mattered. I think the Chinese write from right to left or is it up and down? Try beating an egg with a right handed egg beater in your left hand. Or peeling a spud with a right handed spud peeler. Or kissing a friend on the cheek. We left handers are inclined to go for the left cheek and the right handers go the other way. Because of the confusion this created I gave up the kissing habit years ago. I’ve now opted for the hongi. There’s no confusion there. Right on the nose. Perhaps early Maori were all left handed and so they devised a simple form of salutation which suited both left and right handers. And there’s the scissors. Try cutting your nails with your left hand. Or opening a tin of guavas with your conventional can opener. They’re all designed for the Righteous.
Then there’s all that business about sitting on the right hand. Right from Old Testament times. No way would Abraham have had Isaac’s sitting on his left hand or Jacob sitting on Isaac’s left. The lefties, that’s me and about 13% of the world’s population have been given a hard time. We’re the sinisters – the left handers. We’ve had enough. Now we want to celebrate our affliction. We’ve been silent for too long. The time has come for us to shout from the rooftops with banners and T-shirts. “Kack-handed and proud of it.” Up to now the only organisation of the world have gone out of their way to recognise how special we are, are the world’s railway stations. At most of them you can usually find a place for “Left luggage”.
But I’m not really worried. There’s no doubt that we left handers have a far higher degree of creativity than right handers. You only need to look at this column. Week in week out for years now creatively with my left hand I’ve been writing about nothing. And whats more it shows. One task I’ve yet to master is playing a ukulele left handed. The music seems to come out backwards. Meanwhile lefties unite. Ignore prejudice. Push on. By the left quick march. Left, left, left right left …
posted by Lundon at 3:58 PM
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