Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m short. I’m so short that when people ask me how tall I am I can answer the question with one simple word “five.” If I feel like elaborating on the matter, which I usually don’t, I say “five foot nothing.”
So it’s out there. My deep, dark, not-so-secret secret is exposed: I am a short person. I know what you’re thinking: “Big deal. She’s short. Who cares?” Who cares, you say? Short answer-nobody. Nobody cares about short people, period. The oft-overlooked height-challenged have been a long suffering group since the beginning of time.
Everyone discusses the problems of every other group out there. But who’s going to stand up for the little guy? The “little guy” in the literal sense that is.
Our society rewards those who excel in the area of well-growth-and in a world where bigger is better it’s hard for the half pints to make an impact.
Sure we’re good at fitting into small places , like lockers, and we can easily sneak into the movies at the child’s price, but still, there are few things the “wee ones” will always feel short-changed about.
For instance, the endless taunting, I mean how many times can a person hear “Wow, you’re short” and “Hey, how’s the weather down there?” before it all gets to be rather annoying?
I would just like to point out that I used to be tall. To clarify, I was in the fourth grade at the time and my classmates hadn’t had their growth spurts yet. But the point is, in my youth, I was of more than adequate height.
And when I was tall, I didn’t walk around calling people of lesser stature “dwarf” or “short stuff” and I most certainly didn’t walk around patting short peoples’ heads and using their craniums as an armrest. Yes, tall folks, short peoples’ heads weren’t designed to be a nifty place for you to rest your arm.
Also, tall people, it is not necessary for you to constantly point out my inability to reach things when you hold them over your head. Yes, I get it, you can reach farther than me. When I need you to get that box down from the top shelf, I will consult you. However, in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you kept this skill to yourself. It only serves to make me jealous.
Another huge problem for those of the petite persuasion is the fact that no one sees us down here. Tall people have perfectly lovely conversations over the top of my head all the time. This is rather aggravating. Either these height-advantaged individuals are trying to ignore my presence below them or they just don’t see me down here. (For my ego’s sake, I choose to believe they just don’t see me down here).
Though I may be jealous of tall people and their ability to reach things without the assistance of a step stool, I can’t really blame them. It’s not their fault they grew taller than me. They probably just ate more vegetables or drank their milk as a kid (or you know, that whole genetics thing).
Anyway, the point this column was never to insult the tall folks anyway. (That would be a silly thing to do, as this would only incite them to hold more objects out of my reach).
What I was really trying to do here was expose the short person’s horrible plight.
As you journey through life, remember this and only this: always be on the lookout for the little guy. Because someone needs to stand up for him or her and it’s so much more effective when standing up doesn’t include being perched atop a pillar of phone books or a small stool.