Southpaw

I am someone who has given a lot of thought to issues of race, racism and prejudice. South Africa's first democratic (non-apartheid) elections took place in my first year of university. The new constitution was drafted and tested while I was at law school. I taught classes on constitutional law and discussed with students what equality meant, and what unfair discrimination might look like in practice. I studied political philosophy and then theology, and have wondered what my life and calling might look like if I were born male rather than female, of colour rather than white, Zulu or Tamil speaking instead of English. Quite different, I would imagine.

One thing I have learned with all this thinking about prejudice is: it's hard to recognise bias when it's in your favour. You don't realize how the world is wired for English speakers until you don't speak English. You don't realize how the world is wired for white people until you hear stories from black people about never being given the benefit of the doubt. Part of me wants to close my ears when I hear these things and say "no, you're just imagining it...", but when they keep on talking I realize that they experience prejudice that I just don't see... because it's not directed towards me. People don't clutch their purses tighter when I walk close by. They don't flinch when I admire their babies. They don't speak slower to make sure I have understood.

It's hard to recognise bias when it's in your favour.

And it's because of this that I am having some strange, emotional, mixed feelings about the fact that my daughter seems to be left-handed. On the one hand, I feel strangely proud of her. Left-handed people have a reputation for being creative. It's something special and unique. But on the other hand (pun intended), it's hard to recognise just how much the world is wired for right-handed people if you are right-handed.

My daughter will have difficulty learning to write: lessons on how to hold a pen and form letters are designed for righties. She might need special lefty scissors, and a specially-strung guitar, should she choose that as an instrument. Computer mice and keyboards are designed for right-handed people. Table place settings are put out for right-handed people.

So I'm watching my little girl shovel raspberries into her mouth with her left hand, reach for shoes with her left hand, cradle my face with her left hand. I LOVE that little hand of hers, and I'm wondering what the years ahead are going to teach me about just how much the world is wired for right-handed people... or how much it's accomodating lefties too now. I have a lot to learn: it's hard to recognise where in the world that prejudice lies when I am right-handed!

[A fascinating post script: Even language and etymology testifies that the world is wired for right-handed people. The terms "adroit" and "dexterous", both referring to being clever and having expert skill, are taken from the French and Latin words for "right-handed" respectively. The French and Latin terms for left-handedness have become far more pejorative English words: gauche (lacking in social grace, crude, tactless) and sinister (evil). Interesting, isn't it?]