Left Out: Being Left-Handed in a World of Right-Handed Privilege
At just five years old, I was taught that the way God made me was wrong. For as long as I could remember, I had always been this way, yet still, everyone in my life told me my habits were “uncivilized” and even “dirty”. Instead of hoping for superpowers or new toys for Christmas, I wished that I had been born differently. So what was this horrible sin? I was left-handed. If you’re reading this, there is a 90% chance you are privileged with the gift of right-handedness. Any of you might believe that I’m just being dramatic. But none of you have struggled to use everyday tools. None of you have stained your hands with ink after hours of writing. None of you have undergone hours of dexterity therapy in a Chinese language school.
In cultures around the world, left-handedness has been branded as a symbol of evil, betrayal, sin, and filth. This historical favoritism of “normal” righties has resulted in a complete neglect of the rest of us. From eating food to shaking hands, using our left hand has been forbidden around the globe. The world is built for right-handed people, and in this subtle discrimination lies a privilege—one that shames and inhibits the daily lives of left-handed individuals in both cultural and practical settings.
Being left-handed means roaming a society designed without you in mind. Scissors bite into your fingers at acute angles. The metal coils of the workbook dig into the flesh of your hands. The tether on credit card signatures becomes a deathtrap. And don’t get me started on the lead stains on your hand that make writing an acrobatic feat to complete. Of course, there are scissors, pencil grips, and other stationery designed for lefties, but these are rare and expensive. It’s not that the world actively targets us lefties—we’re simply left behind. These little inconveniences increase over months and eventually years, and young lefties are desensitized to these disadvantages. For right-handed people, this might be the first time you are learning about the struggles the other side faces daily, and there lies the privilege: the privilege of ignorance.
Beyond tools and other physical challenges, lefties often face bias and prejudice in societies in which left-handedness has historically been viewed as taboo. In many languages, the word “left” is directly associated with awkwardness, wrongness, even evil—Gauche in French. Culturally, using the left hand for eating, writing, and shaking hands has been considered one of the greatest disrespects possible. As a child, I was reprimanded and even yelled at by my parents for eating with my left hand, as if my instincts were somehow impolite. Even in the U.S., lefties were once seen as outliers or anomalies, needing stern correction. These subtle cultural attitudes aren’t just historical fun facts; they live in our language and customs today. While being left-handed may not be dangerous anymore, it remains inefficient and complicated. This is how social privilege works: by rendering anything but the norm invisible, our struggles go unheard.
When we think of privilege, images of wealth and racial inequality may come to mind. But privilege lives on in many subtle ways that we may never notice—in the design of scissors or the hands we greet one another with. Righthandedness may not be a conscious privilege for many people, but that’s the point: privilege often goes unnoticed by those who enjoy it. As a leftie, I’ve learned to adapt and live in a world made without me in mind. But I don’t want this adaptation to be seen as the end of the problem. I don’t want to be congratulated for making it work. I want us to see who the world was designed for and who is quietly left behind.