It’s finally here, that special day when the small percentage of us folks can celebrate the fact that we’re different from the rest (and not be burnt at the stake for it. lol)
It’s August 13th National Lefthanders Day!
I’m happy to be sharing this special day with you all.
It’s a fun way to make folks aware that we’re all human regardless what hand we write with.
In honor of the day, I’m sharing my story:
I’m a Cross Dominant Leftie, with Right Hand tendencies!
(Sounds almost naughty, Doesn’t it? lol😉 )
In the early part of my life, I hadn’t met more than a few left-handed people. Back then, not many folks would admit it openly. It carried a stigma and some folks thought it was a shame or we was somehow lesser than the average right-handed human. Happily in the last few dozen years, I’ve met many lefties and we’re just ‘proud as peaches’ to be lefties.
As a child, I was Ambidextrous and was quite efficient with using both my hands equally. As I grew up, I became what is known as Cross Dominant and adjusted to being able to use my right hand for most everything except for writing.
I remember seeing some of my classmates brow beat, embarrassed and punished into using their right hands. I recall there was even a condescending little ditty the teachers sang over them to embarrass them, they also encouraged the right-handed students to sing it with them. I’ve heard many sad stories from folks and I also remember my parents telling stories about children being physically forced into learning to be right-handed.
My Dad was very firm in his beliefs and he was not a man to be trifled with. There wasn’t a Schoolmaster nor Schoolmarm nor Principle nor Teacher that would have dared tried to change my writing hand. Thanks to my Dad, I was never subjected to the cruel ditty nor did I ever catch any flack about being left-handed … although I thought I did once…
When I was in first grade, I was sitting at my desk, doing my Math and my left hand grew tired of making the amounts of dots to match the numbers 1-10, so I switched to my right hand.
The next thing I knew my teacher had called in the second grade teacher. They both hovered around me saying things that I couldn’t understand and spoke about my switching hands and then called me ambidextrous.
I didn’t understand the word. They scared me to death. I thought I had done something bad and was in trouble. And like any normal frightened little 6-year-old girl, I began to cry. I thought they were talking ugly about me.
Thankfully I was literally saved by the bell, the last bell of the day. The second grade teacher left to go to her class and my teacher got busy helping everyone line up to go to the buses.
I managed to get my things, go get on the bus and I whimpered all the way home. I was confused and felt so ashamed. I had apparently done something wrong. I was terrified they would paddle me for it the next school day. I tried to hide my tears, but after I got to the safety of my home and parents I fell apart. My parents immediately wanted to know why I was crying and if anyone had hurt me.
Through storms of tears, I told Mom and Dad how the teachers had acted. I couldn’t remember the big word they had called me. I tried to say it but it was too big for my little memory.
So, Mom and Dad asked me what I was doing when the teachers came up to me.
I explained about doing my Math and my left hand getting tired and switching to my right hand.
Dad and Mom both smiled and explained to me that the teachers had called me an ambidextrous and it was a good thing to be and they explained why.
Of course I felt instantly better and special too.
Here’s wishing you all a wonderful day
regardless of what your dominant hand is.
Repost from 8-13-2014