I am sinister; I am gauche.

[rhythmaning]

You, on the other hand, are more than likely dextrous and adroit. And you would be right.

Because I am left-handed, whilst you probably aren’t. According to Wikipedia, about 10% of people are left-handed, although for cultural reasons that may be an underestimate – apparently it is so feared in some parts of the world that it remains a hidden trait.

Cultural associations with left-handedness with evil seems widespread, from western societies – hence sinister (from the latin for left) – through Asia and Africa. Just about everywhere, it seems.

Although there isn’t much evidence of a genetic relation to left-handedness, my father and his mother were both left-handed; so perhaps when I grew up it wasn’t so frowned upon.

I am very left handed, my right hand doing little except carrying a bag (or a beat). The irritations of being left-handed in a right-handed world are renowned – scissors won’t work, pens won’t write (indeed, although I write with an ink pen, I had to learn how not to drag my fingers through the ink; curiously, I hold my pen much as right-handers do, rather than the convoluted twisted wrist common to many left-handers. I have been told I have nice writing – for a left-hander). Wrist-watches are virtually impossible to wind if you are left-handed. Even PC keyboards and mice can be a hassle – particularly mice (who ever thought it would be a good idea to use right-handed mice at work really didn’t think things through).

Surprisingly, cars appear to have been designed for left-handers, at least in those remnants of the British Empire where they drive on the left side of the road. In British cars, the important things – changing gear (putting the stereo on) – are done by the left hand, leaving the right hand holding the wheel or feeling like a spare part. Perhaps the first cars were designed by left-handers? I mean, someone must have decided that we should all drive on the left.

I am not very sporty, but being left-handed can give a slight advantage. The few times I played squash, just occasionally with a flick of my wrist I could completely outfox the competition. Same in tennis, too – volleys sent where the opposition weren’t expecting. (In cricket, strangely, though I bowl left-handed, I bat right-handed. Well, I used to. I think that must have been how I was taught.)

I notice whether people are left-handed; perhaps this is because it is the only minority of which I am a member. There seem to be a lot of left-handed people at work, a cabal perhaps; recently in a meeting, about half the people there were left-handed. Perhaps we have all just gravitated to the same kind of work.

And being left handed is really important to me. It is a defining character, part of my identity, engrained in my view of myself. One of the things that makes me different.

Comments

[frankie-ecap.livejournal.com]

C. was left-handed. I wonder if that helped.

[itchyfidget.livejournal.com]

Oh, sweetie, I didn't mean to take you back there. I'm sorry.

[frankie-ecap.livejournal.com]

Don't worry, hon. You can't work like that. I am genuinely intrigued, and like rhythmaning I think his left-handedness was important to him.

As a mathematician, a gifted child and someone who documentedly thinks in a somewhat different way from most people, I have always been very disappointed not to be left-handed.

[itchyfidget.livejournal.com]

I'm disappointed not to be left-handed too (my Dad is ... actually I don't know whether it's in any way hereditary), though he tends towards the ambidextrous.

[rhythmaning.livejournal.com]

I sure you could be if you tried hard...