Except for my bare-knuckled politics, I am not a lefty. I was born and bred right-handed and have never strayed. On the other hand, I harbor no ill will for those whom nature was not so accommodating.
Some of my best friends are southpaws. So was my first wife. Through the ages, all over the planet, being left-handed has not been naturally good. It's sometimes called Cain's hand and has been associated with Satan and evil in the Christian world, while offering a left for a handshake greeting is a serious personal insult in Arab society. It even has its own think tank to strategize about keeping the left-handed from being left out: Indiana University's Handedness Research Institute.
After all these centuries, lefties are still facing discrimination. It's a right-handed world.
In an effort to correct their handedness, small children are still abused for using their hand of choice instead of their right. Some lefty police and soldiers still find themselves at risk because their gun holsters hang right, making it a challenge for them to be quick on the draw. Spiral notebooks, three-ring binders, even pencil sharpeners are still user-unfriendly for the left-handed. So are most classroom desks, with an arm rest designed to support the right elbow. The few left-handed desks available are typically placed in the back of the classroom, reports the institute, which also quotes on its Web site lefties who claim not being hired because of wrong-handedness, or report that a left hand was tied behind the back to force a fit to the norm.
Nobody knows how many of the estimated 13 percent of the world's lefties have been turned out through such dedicated efforts to make them right. Nor does anyone know why they were born using that other hand to begin with.
Nor does anyone know why some people are born gay. We do know, however, that statistically speaking, there are about the same number of gays in this world as there are lefties.
And we should know that the biggest difference between the left-handed and the gay -- if we follow the American Family Association and its founder and chairman, the Rev. Donald E. Wildmon -- is a matter of agenda. Left-handers have none. Gays have an insidious one. They're ''intent on molding American culture in their own image,'' according to Wildmon and his organization, which he claims numbers more than 3 million.
A couple of weeks ago, the Association and its leaders launched an action alert on a bill in Congress that they assert would make pastors and other Christians subject to huge fines and prison terms if they say hateful things about homosexuality.
''The proposed law could make it a crime to preach on Romans Chapter 1 or I Corinthians Chapter 6. Or even to discuss them in a Sunday School class. If churches and individuals want to keep the government from telling them what they can and cannot preach and teach about homosexuality, they better get involved now!'' the association advised.
Never mind that Snopes, the urban legends Web site, has determined the association's claim about the bill is false. The radical right religious organization remains steadfast in insisting that if this bill passes, ''liberal judges will rush to make it a federal crime to publicly criticize the homosexual lifestyle.''
And never mind that more than half of America is not so quick to curse or condemn. A CNN opinion poll last week reported that 56 percent of Americans believe that gays and lesbians could not change their sexual orientation even if they wanted to. In the poll, 42 percent of respondents also said they believe homosexuality results from upbringing and environment, while 39 percent said they believe it is something a person is born with -- a close call that echoes the national debate over nurture vs. nature.
Our sexual orientations, in reality, are no different from the rest of the animal world. Zoologists are discovering that, within and throughout the animal kingdom, homosexual and bisexual activity is a familiar occurrence.
So, if it's hands-down quantitatively natural, what makes some believe it's not?
from The Chicago Sun-Times / Monroe Anderson
