It’s an early weekday morning, and I’m getting ready to go to work. I have a court appearance today, and I mention to my husband that I am meeting a client for the first time. As a casual aside, I remark that clients often express surprise at my height when they first meet me. One male client told me that I was so cute, he’d like to pick me up and put me in his pocket.
I arrive at the courthouse and greet my client. I give him a firm handshake, and he smiles and says, “Laurin, for some reason I thought you’d be taller.” I hear concern in his voice about my courtroom effectiveness. I return his comment with the quip that “it’s not the size of the dog in the fight.” The hearing goes well, and his confidence in my representation skills survives intact. But such comments take a toll on me.
Historically, height bias, or heightism, served an evolutionary purpose. Size, particularly in males, indicated dominance because such individuals were perceived as healthier and better fed due to greater access to resources. Research confirms that the human brain perceives height as a measurement of social status, fitness, intelligence, and leadership. Greater stature is positively correlated with higher income and business success due to subtle cultural preferences.
I’ve heard and tolerated height comments my entire adult life. In the recent past, I’ve been barraged with not-so-tall comments: a friend teased me that she wants to stand next to me because I make her look tall; I witnessed a presidential candidate’s joke about the “man behind the curtain being -- really small’; and I heard a lawyer in my office refer to an arrogant attorney as having a Napoleon complex. Last weekend, a family friend triumphantly reported that her son’s new girlfriend is smart, career-minded, and tall! Someone else lamented to me that his son is not as tall as he is because his son’s mother is short. The list goes on and on.
When we articulate comments about any aspect of physical appearance, we, unintentionally or not, ascribe value to them. Touting the “accomplishment” of size or height necessarily diminishes the value of someone who is lesser than that. It is no more appropriate to herald someone’s stature than it is to commend them for the whiteness of their skin. We should be more evolved than that.
I’m reluctant to challenge people who make height remarks for a variety of reasons. It feels unbecoming to complain about heightism while rampant systematic discrimination exists against racial, ethnic, religious, sexual orientation, physical abilities, age, and gender groups. In addition, I don’t want to offend or embarrass anyone by addressing statements they may have meant no harm by. I also want people to like me, which makes confrontation very uncomfortable.
But I’m pretty much done with all that. I’m not going to allow others to dictate what I am entitled to care about. So, let me be clear (cue the anthem music): I don’t care. I’m not interested in any physical aspect of your child, partner, spouse, sibling, parent, employer, or friend. I don’t regard physical endowments established by genetics as praiseworthy or worthwhile. I’m only impressed and enamored by characteristics that are acquired by hard work, perseverance, compassion, character, or resilience.
If you think I’m strident or defensive, so be it. I’m not going to sit at the back of the bus, especially if not-so-short people are sitting up front.