I learned how to write last summer, at the age of 34. I know how to read since my childhood, and all that time I assumed that I was able to write too, but I was wrong; in fact what I was doing was awkwardly drawing the letters, one-by-one. No surprise that what I called “writing” was for me an unpleasant experience, which I wasn’t able to sustain for very long (besides, but maybe that’s what saved me, I’m not very good at drawing).
The reason for that? Simple: I’m left handed.
In fact, reality is always more complex than a single term. Something that I learned last summer was that there are degrees of lateralization; one can be left handed for some things and right handed for others. Just like in any other aspect, there are not discreet categories in nature, but rather a continuum (will we humans ever admit that we are a product of nature just like any other?).
So last summer I took lessons to correct my writing. Very simple exercises to become aware of things like the points of strain in hand, wrist and arms, one’s position in front of the sheet, and the position of the sheet itself.
All those factors are different for a left handed person and for a right handed one. But no one bothered to warn me. Ever. At school they tried really hard to cram all kind of useless stuff into my head, and subjects impossible to understand for a kid; but no one ever mentioned that left handed have to grab the pen in a different way. As I learned later, an additional problem (but it does not justify school) is that the differences in handwriting appear only as you grow; a child can write without taking much care of his being left handed because children’s body proportions are different. The problems, the postural damages, become progressive as you grow. It makes me think of those Chinese women whose feet are taken to atrophy using tight bandages.
Again, nobody ever told me. My shoulder hurt after some time of writing, I got tired before than the rest. I had no reference to compare myself with, so I thought it was just a personal weakness, something I had to get used to. All I got from the people that were supposed to teach me was criticisms for writing slow, for having an ugly writing, etc. All of them were right handed people, of course.
I don’t mean to be resentful here. All that matters is that I discovered the problem and now it is solved (handwriting is not that habitual nowadays anyway, even for those of us who are into writing), but this case struck me as a direct experience of the problems that our society has to deal with its differences. Depending of the culture you belong to, differences are either a) Ignored, “and if you don’t are strong or lucky enough adapt to the average Joe, sorry for you buddy, but you should not be that weird”, or b) Extremely isolated, like a virus that must be separated from the rest of the body, in the way someone deals with a disease (with “I respect it” as the “vaccine” expression).
I don’t think differences are a virus. I think we should protect variety of all kinds. It is our wealth, our source of originality. Being left handed is not like being impaired: I’ve had the chance of experiencing the problem from its softer side. But I wonder in how many areas are we dealing with differences in such “advanced” ways. I’m sure there are a lot of additional features, besides our “all time classics” (gender, age, sexual option, culture, race) in which we waste what is, in fact, one of our biggest adaptation advantages. Other species do not have such a wide span of possibilities to face problems…
To tell the truth, I think that every differential factor has been turned into something either problematic or disregarded by this amazing, beloved species of us. With the possible exception of the color of eyes; but give us enough time…
Now what about you. Have you ever had that sensation of one of your differential traits being mistreated and/or ignored? Something that is “too tiny to be mentioned” but that bugs you in the way I express here? I’m sure we all can gather a beautiful list.
Related posts:
The key, if you ask me…
Sick (but not tired)
Nacho and the primal forces
Femiline / Mascunine
One quote and two warnings