this world doesn't fit

“They’re not designed for you.”

The slightly accusatory tone of the old man’s comment took me aback a little as I stepped out of the public convenience in my local Marks and Spencer’s store. Was he being ageist? Did he feel the public toilets were solely for the elderly; who, fair enough, probably were in more need of them, what with all their bladder and bowel conditions.

Or was he being elitist? Had he inferred from my somewhat scruffy appearance that I was not a typical M&S customer? Perhaps he had me down as more of an ASDA sort...

It was at this point in my mental vacations that I noticed I was crouching in the rather small doorway of the toilet. I completely filled the the frame - and then some. He wasn’t being discriminatory at all; he was commenting on my height.

Which, of course, filled me with a whole new sense of righteous indignation. Why do complete strangers feel it is okay to comment on my height? If I were to remark upon his lack of hair, or age, or horrendous taste in shoes - if I were to comment on someone’s nose, hair colour, teeth colour, breast size, chin size, stomach size, eyebrow bushiness, armpit bushiness, weight, webbed fingers or (God forbid) lack of height - people would, rightly, consider me rude. Yet people think nothing of calling me “big lad” or saying “you’re a tall one, aren’t you?” or “let me guess -- 6’6” ” Dare I reply with “let me guess -- 5’1” ?”

I assume the reason they feel it’s okay to comment is because, unlike most features of our appearance, we are unlikely to have hang ups about being tall. They assume we like being tall - it is therefore a compliment. And actually I do like being tall. It sets me apart - it gives me a unique perspective on things and always causes a slight stir when I walk into a new school.

But not everyone is without hang ups. It can be tough being tall - probably even more so for tall women. I have at least one pupil in a year 9 class who puts up with a lot of silly comments because she’s taller than most of the boys in the class. And size discrimination doesn’t stop in our teens.

That old man was right - that toilet door wasn’t designed with me in mind, nor are the vast majority of doors in public buildings, buses, planes, cars or trains; theatre or cinema seats; school desks; and (apparently) if I were to use a jet fighter’s ejector seat at my height I would be at risk of having my legs ripped off.

So next time you see someone towering above the rest of the crowd - suppress the desire to stare, or ask if they play basketball, or ask what the weather is like up there - give them a sympathetic smile instead.