Imagine being told that your dominant hand is somehow 'wrong' or even evil. This is the shocking reality Shih-Ching Tsou faced as a child, and it’s the powerful foundation of her groundbreaking film, Left-Handed Girl. One day, while cooking in her Taipei home, a teenage Tsou innocently picked up a knife with her left hand, only to be scolded by her grandfather, who declared, ‘The left hand is the devil’s hand. You should not use that.’ Until that moment, Tsou, a Taiwanese-American filmmaker, hadn’t even realized she was left-handed. ‘I was already ‘corrected’ in kindergarten by my teacher,’ she recalls. This seemingly small incident left a lasting imprint of shame, a feeling she later discovered her mother shared, as she too had been forced to abandon her left-handedness to conform to societal norms. But here's where it gets controversial: decades later, Tsou transforms this childhood trauma into a compelling narrative, raising questions about cultural expectations and the suppression of individuality. Left-Handed Girl follows I-Jing, a sweet but conflicted five-year-old Taiwanese girl who believes her left hand is cursed. Her mother, a struggling noodle stall owner, and her rebellious older sister, entangled in a scandalous affair, add layers of complexity to this raw and empathetic story. Shot entirely on iPhones, the film delves into family secrets, resilience, and the unique challenges faced by Asian women in a society that often prioritizes sons. And this is the part most people miss: Tsou’s own experiences, from her rebellious youth in Taipei to her escape from the ‘limitations’ of Taiwanese beauty standards (think pale skin obsession), deeply inform her work. Meeting Sean Baker, the Oscar-winning director of Anora, at the New School was a turning point. Their shared love for Dogme 95 films and Korean cinema sparked a collaboration that led to Take Out, their gritty 2004 debut. Yet, Left-Handed Girl remains Tsou’s most personal project, co-written with Baker and a labor of love that took over a decade to bring to life. The film’s journey from script to screen wasn’t easy—funding was a constant struggle, and Tsou’s busy life as a mother added another layer of complexity. But the wait was worth it. Since its Cannes premiere, the film has captivated audiences worldwide and is now Taiwan’s Oscar submission for Best International Feature Film. What’s truly remarkable is the impact it’s had on left-handed viewers, many of whom have shared their own stories of being ‘corrected.’ Tsou’s hope? That her film will challenge outdated traditions and inspire a fairer, more inclusive world. But here’s the question: Are we ready to let go of these deeply ingrained beliefs, or will they continue to shape our identities in ways we don’t even realize? Let’s discuss—what traditions do you think need reinventing? And how can we ensure that no child ever feels ashamed of who they are?
