The family of man
seems to be divided in many peculiar ways, not the least of which
is the oddity of handedness. Most of us favor one hand over the
other. Others are so solidly right or left handed that it's all
they can do to pick up a toothbrush with the opposite hand, and
holding the brush and actually using it with the weak hand would
be impossible. On the other hand (!), some of us are ambidextrous.
My father was a natural
lefty, but had been made to write with his right hand. The pedagogical
wisdom when he was young insisted that right was preferable. He
spent the rest of his life with his pen in his right hand, but
using his left for everything else. Oddly enough one of my sons
repeated his right-to-write but left-for-all-else pattern, even
though no one ever forced the pencil into his right hand. When
he was in third grade, his teacher, who deplored his poor penmanship,
decided that he was a natural lefty, and encouraged him to try
switching the hand that held the pencil. He was able to make the
switch, but alas, his handwriting looked exactly the same, no
matter which hand he used. (The ability to switch did, however,
come in handy when in eighth grade he broke his right arm).
By the time I started
teaching, teachers had long been instructed not to interfere with
a child's handedness. All that was important, we were told, was
that children demonstrate a firm preference for one hand or the
other. By then, Science had announced that the side of the brain
that is dominant controls the opposite hand. We were to be concerned
not by which side of the brain was dominant, but by those odd
children whose brain dominance hadn't yet become set: i.e. children
who were ambidextrous. Lack of clear dominance was considered
to be an indication of immaturity, and possible learning disability.
These days, teachers
are being asked to encourage development of both sides of the
brain by the ways they teach (it's called, in edu-speak, "teaching
to all modalities"). Ambidexterity is in danger of being in vogue,
which is fine by me. While using my left hand to write is a bit
laborious, I am one of those freaks who can put a pencil in each
hand and placing them side-by-side on the page, write moving left
with my left and right with my right, producing mirror image words.
It's a skill not worth much unless you want a lot of attention
at cocktail parties (I don't). I've never tried to hone it; the
skill is just there.
Sometimes I wonder
if my ambidexterity isn't a symptom of the mental stasis that
has plagued my life. Decision-making isn't easy for me. I have
no problem voicing an opinion; the real difficulty is in forming
an opinion. Except in the most extreme instances, choosing sides
is all but impossible because I always see clearly the opposing
points of view. A friend who is astrologically inclined explains
my condition by my birth sign, Libra, with her balanced scales.
(I, who have battled a weight problem all my life, have always
hated those scales). I'd prefer to think that my ability to consider
all sides of a question comes from a well-balanced brain.
When I sat down to
write my New Year's column, there I was, dangling between the
two sides of my brain with ill grace. Herewith, the result of
that hang-up:
Some Thoughts for
the New Year;
A left-brain, right-brain
dialogue
Left Brain: Happy New
Year! Thank God 2001 is over. I thought it would never
end!
Right Brain: Don't
be ridiculous. The year flashed by, and I never got around to
doing any of the things I fully intended to do.... like losing
20 pounds, learning Spanish, cleaning out my sewing closet...
LB: I know that you're
the intuitive, creative side of us, but really, how can you be
so shallow? 2001 was a year that c-r-a-w-l-e-d by. Its slowness
was agonizing. The first eight months seemed to drag on forever,
with all the hoo-hah in the press about Clinton's pardons, the
items taken from government offices during the change of administrations,
the whole Gary Condit feeding frenzy, dire predictions concerning
George W.'s competence, yaddah yaddah, yaddah. And since September
11, of course, we've been badly wounded and engaged in a battle
with terrorists who may or may not be in our midst, but in any
event will be almost impossible to find. It's enough to make each
day seem like an eternity.
RB: Girl, there's a
reason you're known as the analytical, verbal half. My intuition
tells me that we'll find Bin Laden eventually, and until then,
we've got to keep our chins up. Forge ahead. Don't let the bad
guys slow us down. Spend. Work hard. Create!
LB: Oh, puleeze! You
may be right about Bin Laden, but don't overlook the fact that
he's just one of many sources of terrorism. If you analyze the
situation calmly, you'll see that finding him is only the beginning
of a solution that may take a hundred years to achieve. And why
should I get out there and spend when I don't know if I'll have
a job next month?
RB: Well, worrying
about that won't make any difference. It happens or it doesn't,
and either way, you'll cope. What worries me is all the encroachment
on our civil liberties. Benjamin Franklin said: "When you give
up small freedoms to ensure security, you are likely to find yourself
neither free nor secure."
LB: Well, now, be logical.
How can our law enforcement people do their jobs if their hands
are tied?
RB: And if you untie
their hands, might they not grab the innocent along with the guilty?
LB: The innocent have
nothing to fear.
RB: Tell that to the
people of Middle Eastern origin whom the FBI has been holding
with absolutely no evidence. Tell that to the Nisei who had their
property seized and were kept in camps during World War II simply
because their ancestors came from Japan. For that matter, tell
that to the American Indians who innocently made treaties that
the US Government very quickly broke.
LB: There's always
ambivalence in these situations. We may be erring, but at this
point, I'd rather err on the side of caution. After all, on September
11, America lost its innocence.
RB: I am sick
of that phrase! I can remember hearing it after Pearl Harbor,
after each of the assassinations of the '60's, at the end of the
Vietnam War...and remember My Lai? I mean how many times can innocence
be lost? Our grandmother impressed upon us very clearly that you
lose your innocence only once!
LB: (blushing) I think
she referred to a different kind of innocence.
RB: It comes down to
the same thing. Innocence gone is gone. And anyway, we Americans
pride ourselves on being a savvy, sophisticated, can-do kind of
people. Why should we want to be considered innocent?
LB: Well, you have
me there: Innocence is a lovely word, but perhaps it would make
more sense to say that what America lost on September 11 was its
complacency. Up to then, we'd been pretty untouchable, at least
on our own soil. And now, like it or not, we're in a battle to
determine how humankind will define itself for generations to
come. Will extremists destroy the tolerance and rationality of
the world's good people? These extremists seem to exist on all
sides of every conflict. They exploit the widening gap between
the haves and the have-nots to serve their own purposes. Egged
on by the fanatics, the have-nots appear to be about to have their
say, and I expect we need to listen carefully.
RB: You're singing
my song, even if you can't keep it short, pithy and in tune!
LB: We are, after all,
two halves of the same brain. One would hardly expect us to differ
vastly, although....
RB: Oh, do shut up!
It's snowing out there, and you want us to sit here and talk to
each other? Let's put the soup pot on "Lo," grab some mittens,
and enjoy the day. Carpe diem, dear Lefty. Tomorrow will get here
soon enough.
LB: Well then, grab
a shovel and get to work. At least it's a start on burning calories.
Remember that 20 pounds you wanted to lose? I just hope it all
comes off your side.
RB: Right. And a Happy
2002 to you, too!
