I went to grade school in the early 50s. None of my regular Benedictine teachers tried to change me.
The Benedictines were great and I owe them a lot for my good education. :clapping: I never recall anybody being yelled at or unfairly punished. I did see a student being punched once for acting up in a fire alarm line, but he just laughed. I saw him in Church some time ago, so it didn’t alienate him, I guess.
But one day in second grade or so, a substitute teacher came in because the regular was sick, I suppose. One didn’t wonder about things like that back then.
Well this nun was REALLY old. [She was probably my age now].
It turns out that she had taught my Dad thirty years earlier. My Dad was too old for the ruler by then, so she knocked him out of a pew one day with a hefty blow.
He was snickering with some kid across the center aisle and didn’t see Sr. ______ approaching from behind.
Sr. _________ that day, grabbed the pencil out of my left hand, put it in my right, told me to use it that way, and then returned to the front of the room.
I quickly changed the pencil back to it’s “proper” location. She never tried to change me again.
Other than having strange penmanship, and ink constantly covering my left hand for having it rub over fresh ink,
I don’t see a major problem with being left handed (I bat and golf right handed). In fact, in using tools, it is often and advantage.
I can use far more things with my right hand than rigthties can use with their left.