Lefties Elbowed in a Right-Handed World

I've discovered one more area where I'm the victim of discrimination. That's right. Me, the suburban housewife.
You probably weren't aware of it, but I'm one of the downtrodden of the world, the elbowed, the neglected members of society.
OK, OK, I'm overreacting, but it's not easy being left-handed. Let's face it (or should I say, let's hand it), this is a right-handed world, and we lefties are left to our devices - right-handed ones. Anyway, on to the latest slight to us second-class folk. You know how it has become fashionable to accessorize clothing with a pin or a brooch? Well, the designers of these items must be right-handed.
The clasp on the back of the pin is situated so only a righthanded person can put it on. If I pin it on a sweater with my left hand, it's upside down.
Writing and eating are probably the most challenging problems for a leftie.
Many left-handed writers use what is known as overhand. I do. I think I do this because in handwriting class my paper was slanted to the left, just as my right-handed classmates' paper.
The problem with this style of writing, in addition to smearing the ink with the side of my hand, is that it's awkward.
When I was in school, note-taking was difficult in a classroom filled with right-sided desks.
Occasionally there would be a left-handed desk, but invariably a right-handed person would plop down in it and then complain about not being able to write.
Another of my gripes is spiral notebooks. If the spiral is on top of the notebook, I tum the notebook upside down. Then there's the clipboard. When the doctor's office asks you to fill out forms, they hand you the papers on a clipboard. For lefties, the clip gets in the way. So despite the doctor's good intentions, we still write on our laps - overhanded, naturally.
Lefties are often referred to as awkward, which is exactly how I feel when I confront a buffet line at a party. Invariably the serving pieces are set to the right of the serving dishes.
I bet you've never seen a left-handed person serving punch at a wedding. If you did, more punch was spilled than poured. Punch ladles are as far to the right as Jerry Falwell and just about as stubborn.
Not only is the handle shaped for the right-handed, the bowl is situated for right-handed pouring. There's no way a leftie can use it without undergoing some contortions.
Another moment of panic is when I find my seat at a long dinner table and discover I'm seated between two other diners. I immediately get that straitjacket feeling and wonder how I'll cut my food without elbowing my dinner companion. Usually I vie with other lefties for the seat at the left end.
As you probably have guessed, I don't think we lefties get any respect. Even the word left has some negative connotations, whereas right is so . . . right.
For example, "he's way out in left field" is derogatory, but "he's right on target" is positive.
Wouldn't you rather be right than left behind? What about lefthanded invitations, or having politics that are left of center (of course, I think that's fine) instead of right wing?
Being left-handed isn't always a problem. I like being different. I think lefties are more observant. I always observe other lefthanders.
There are more of us than you'd expect. Left-handedness can be an advantage in sports. It's a shame I don't have more athletic prowess, so this could be to my advantage. Left-handers are almost always creative. I am. I created two left-handed sons.
January 14, 1987