I’ve been a subscriber to A Word A Day for at least twenty-five years. If you love new words, I recommend it, and it’s free though they are open to contributions in appreciation for the new words you learn. Sometimes a word strikes a chord as one did this last week.
The word was “heightism,” which means discrimination based on height, especially for those who are short. According to the post, in Presidential elections since 1900, 21 out of 31 winners were taller than their opponents. They also claim that each extra inch for regular people translates into an extra $800 per year in salary.
At 5’ 3 ½” at my tallest, I understand disadvantages of being short though I had not heard a word used for it before. I’m pretty sure it had no effect on my teaching salary since those are traditionally low for everybody. My height may have even been an advantage when I was teaching kindergarten and second grade since I was close to where my students were. My junior high students understood my uplifted crooked eyebrow even when it was exactly on their level so there was no disadvantage there either.
My first advantage for being short was pointed out by a slightly older height-challenged college friend when I was just entering high school. She said she never had to worry about how high the heels were on her shoes because she would never tower over her date. I loved my high heels so that sounded like a winner. In recent years, I have discovered a new advantage as I have sat next to tall people on a plane trying to get all of their legs into that tiny seat space.
Yet I must admit, there are issues with being short. I have two stools in my house. One is by my bed with a wonderful box spring and comfortable mattress. I need a stool to climb in for my beauty rest every night. My top row of kitchen cabinets is totally inaccessible without the stool. I will admit that the stools are “borrowed” from time to time when I need to reach something in another part of the house. Group photographs comprise another continuing issue. If you are a short person, you are sent to the front row even if it’s a bad hair day or if you just spilled a chocolate sundae down the front of your outfit.
There is also a fun side. You just might become the adult that grandchildren use for marking their height accomplishments. With ten grandchildren, I have been that marker. This week, the eleven-year-old noticed with jubilation that he and I were looking eye-to-eye. That leaves only the ten-year-old who won’t be far behind.