Sinister Manifesto
The world is a hostile place for the left hand.
Most people have a favorite hand to explore this world with—usually their dominant one. Or, you know, the right one.
And almost everything is designed for this right-handed majority.
But what about the 10% of us who are left-handed?
Lefties have to navigate a world that wasn’t made for us. We’ve become masters of adapting, changing our actions and behaviors without even noticing.
But we are not thriving in this right-handed world.
No.
Instead, we’re mildly inconvenienced multiple times a day.
When writing a protest letter against this lack of accessibility, we face the dilemma of either smudging the ink or dodging it by twisting our wrist like a left-handed contortionist while scribbling in an awkward notebook.
Awkward, right.
Because it’s either fumbling with right-handed tools or paying a premium for the left-handed version. Kitchen utensils, sports equipment, musical instruments—it gets pricey.
We’ve learned to adapt to this right-handed environment, yet we’re still judged, excluded, and marginalized.
Ever notice how the language we use reflects this?
Take a look at the word “sinister.” It comes from the Latin word for “left,” and now means something scary or dangerous. Sinistral through and through.
Meanwhile, “dexter” (meaning “right”) gives us words like “dexterity” and “dextrous,” which are all about skill and ability. In French, “gauche” means “left,” but it also means clumsy or awkward.
Thanks a lot, notebook.
Handedness is about which hand we prefer for precise tasks. Right-handers are never looked down upon. Yet, words like “maladroit,” “undexterous,” and “gauche” suggest we’re clumsy just for being left-handed.
(Could it be the notebook?)
Don’t get us started on idioms like “two left feet” for lack of coordination, “caught left-handed” suggesting we’re up to no good, or the classic “left-handed compliment,” which isn’t really a compliment at all.
And let’s not forget the cultural discrimination we’ve faced. Historical superstitions unfairly associated left-handedness with bad luck or evil, further stigmatizing us. People thought being left-handed was sinister (and not only by name) and treated us like we were bad omens.
Despite this, left-handers have made significant contributions to arts, sciences, and innovation.
We are resilient, always adapting to this right-handed world, but it’s time to demand inclusivity in design and accessibility.
We’re asking for respect and acceptance of left-handed differences. Inclusion is long overdue. What has to be accessed by hand should be designed to be accessible for both hands.
Calling all southpaws: rise up and proudly declare your belonging to this manual minority. Let’s unite and show the world that handedness diversity is something to celebrate.
Shout it from the rooftops: We are left-handed and we are proud.
It’s time to highlight left-handedness in this right-handed world.