A Comm for Historymemes

Fortunately enough I mostly escaped the southpaw erasure bullshit.

My uncle would tease me for being a "lefty." By calling me a "lefty."

My grandmother had a tendency to ask passive-aggressive questions. Like "Why do you only ever wear one pair of shoes?" Because I'm four years old and I'll outgrow these before I wear them out. Why buy more than one?" Or "Can't you put your foot out straight?" No, I can't. It got bent in the womb and the corrective shoe I wore when I was 0.5 did a reasonable job but it's still a little crooked and there's really nothing I can do about it that isn't very uncomfortable. "Why don't you use your right hand?" Because I'm left handed.

The way my mother tells it, when it was time for me to start drawing with crayons, she put a crayon in my right hand and then colored some with her own crayon to show me how, and I transferred my crayon to my left hand and started coloring, and mama said "Oh he's left handed. Okay." And from there she would hold out spoons or writing utensils and let me take them with the hand I preferred.

In school, none of the faculty ever tried to force me to be right-handed, though my elementary school teachers had no idea how to teach handwriting to a lefty. I did have a fifth grade teacher who, for reasons only known to the bug in her cunt, REQUIRED the use of a spiral-bound notebook. Right handed folks might not realize, lefties end up resting their hands against the spiral bindings at the beginning of every line and it starts to hurt. A spiralless notebook was just unacceptable.