Throughout her life, Angie had grown up being treated inferiorly.
"Oh, you're right-handed, no wonder you have no imagination."
"Oh, you're a righty, it all makes sense why you don't fit in with us."
"I didn't know you were right-handed, that's why you always seemed so ugly to me."
That's why she was preparing for the race of her life. A race where supposedly the winner would have the opportunity to pitch a technology project. She had an innovative idea that would change the world of rights.
In the world, the human population that used the left hemisphere was 10%, while the remaining 90% used the right hemisphere, leaving few opportunities for right-handers.
"You can't do it, Angie. You're right-handed. When has anyone of your condition ever won anything in history?"
Angie gave her mother a dirty look.
"Shouldn't you be supporting me?" she asked.
Mrs. Nilson looked at her sadly.
Angie knew what her mother would say.
"Why did you have to be born right-handed?" Mrs. Nilson said, leaving for her room.
"I think it's enough that everything is designed for lefties and people judge me for my way of thinking, different from theirs, without you coming to despise me," Angie said as she packed her things violently.
That was her daily routine: waking up early to jog in a sparsely populated and lonely area where there were no people to discriminate against her. Then, after jogging for an hour, she took a shower and went straight to work. Angie worked as a manicurist, but it was a job that was initially too difficult for her, as everything was designed for lefties. It took her many years to adapt.
"Doesn't it frustrate you to be an industrial engineer and work as a manicurist?" asked her client and friend Silvia.
Angie's response was visual. She didn't want to answer that question, but to finish the job and have the next client come. Although it took her time to learn how to work with left-handed machines, she had become the best, so much so that people lined up for her to serve them. However, Angie was not satisfied.
"So many years of study... I won't forget the times you told me they put obstacles in your way so you could study and even graduate," Silvia said, shaking her golden hair in Angie's face.
"You could shut up and let me do my job," Angie shouted.
After finishing her shift as a manicurist, Angie headed to her secret place: a bookstore that, although crowded, no one bothered anyone. Everyone was immersed in reading, where the words were written from right to left and the books were specifically designed to be used with the left hand. Even the computer keyboards were made that way.
Angie started studying. She hadn't stopped doing it. She was more logical than creative, more rational than intuitive, and that's why she preferred to focus on numbers. But something more structured and less introspective or philosophical than what they explained in class. She looked for books that people didn't read, nothing like Visualization Focus, Left Hand Geometry, Asymmetry Theory, or Symmetry Algebra.
"Nothing like reading a little infinitesimal calculus," whispered Angie, feeling like she was in her world. "Nothing like something that requires applying logic."
Many times she went to seek help for the project she had in mind. Nothing that relied on Dr. Zara Gomez's knowledge of her "Six-Finger Geometry" topic or Javier Rodriguez's theories for his six-sided symmetry equations.
At the end of the day, she returned home and continued to resist her mother's criticisms:
"Independence is something essential in a human being's life. You're almost 30 and still here, struggling to get by..."
"Shut up, Mom," Angie interrupted. "You won't let me study. Every night it's the same thing."
The girl went and locked herself in her room, bitter about her life. This would end. She would win that race. Only a few weeks left, but once she won the Hand Race, everything would be over. So Angie went to bed, thinking about how things would change if she won that race. Her project would change the world and she closed her eyes.
Days passed and the day of the race arrived.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. We are in the Dominant Hand Plaza, awaiting the start of the Hand Race. We thank everyone for their time," the commentator said. "As you know, this race is a series of physical challenges that change every year, ranging from swimming, climbing, or running. We always let the challenge of not knowing and thinking push our thoughts beyond limits."
Angie heard everything, knowing that this year it would be a 21 km race. She had used her knowledge and hacked into the networks of SYG (Segeye Yeon-gyeol) in Korean, which in English would be "Connected World". She had trained for that day and, based on probabilities, most people were expecting climbing, as it had been the modality for two consecutive years. They probably thought it wouldn't be changed that year because it made logical sense to keep it. However, she had been more clever.
"As you well know, but I'll repeat it anyway. The winner, as has been customary for the past 20 years, has done great good for our planet. It is to support them in the project for humanity, which comes with a monetary prize. This project will be supported by the Dominant Hand and can be anything, whether it be medicine, education, the environment, or any other field that has a positive impact on humanity. A team of experts and resources will be provided to help that winning person," the commentator fell silent and then shouted to the four winds. "Our goal is to have a global impact and transform our way of living."
That was what Angie hoped for, to change the discrimination they had against right-handers. Her project aimed to design technology capable of integrating everyone, a design that would adapt to the taste of minorities, but also seek to satisfy the majority. If she could win, she would be the first right-handed woman to lead a technology project.
The countdown began:
"One, two, three..." the whistle sounded indicating the start.
Angie jumped over several opponents to make her way to first place. People looked at her in surprise, and when they saw she had five fingers on both hands, they knew she was right-handed. These types of events could become very violent, she knew that more than anyone, but she wouldn't let herself be beaten. She had run many kilometers, so she had the endurance to leave them behind. In the first 10 km, she dodged the lefties, but her ability positioned her in the first place. They might have six fingers on their left hand, as well as creativity and intuition, but she had logic and reason, tenacity, and discrimination in her mind. In the last 5 km, no one was chasing her, but she didn't let her guard down and kept up an intense pace until there were only 500 meters left.
She didn't hear any comments from the loudspeakers or the audience's indignant shouts. In her mind were her mother's criticisms all day or all the hardships she had endured for being right-handed. Injustice gave her the necessary strength to cross the finish line in the first place.
"I won!" Angie shouted, euphoric, knowing that her dream would come true.
Cover and Banner made in Canva; Image generate with IA Canva, Separators made in photoshop