Archelle Thelemaque (left) wants tall people to stop bumping into her. PHOTO BY CHLOE GRINBERG/ DAILY FREE PRESS STAFF

Dear Tall People,

Hello! How’s the weather up there? Frankly, do not answer because I do not want to hear your absolutely unrelatable response.

First, it has come to my attention that a “Dear Short People” letter was also published today (if you haven’t seen it you can read it here).

Second, I am writing you as a very, very short person who has grown quite weary of her height plight. Now, I understand that height is a characteristic beyond an individual’s control, but c’mon, why is it that as soon as someone nears 5 feet 10 inches and above, they cease to realize that there is an entire world pining at their feet?

You tall people and your looong legs! Oh, how I long for the days where I can touch a basketball rim, or be the first one picked for a game of volleyball. Every experience in my life since my youth has been belittled simply because I fall in the lowly levels of the height hierarchy.

From sports to just everyday living, height is a tool I do not have at my disposal. As a tall person, you may wonder how height, something so inherently rooted in your being, could ever be an object of immense desire.

Take plane rides, for example. Plane rides are always a hassle because when it comes time to stow my oversized carry-on in the storage unit, my small arms coupled with my short legs make for a unruly combination, and someone tall must ALWAYS make it their undue burden to save the day.

Like accessibility to overhead storage on planes, the world is designed for tall people. The extra leg room I have when sitting on a plane is not intentional; it is simply a byproduct from the design crafted for tall people, and I am very well aware of this.

Comparable to plane chairs, regular chairs serve as a constant reminder that I, no matter how elevated I feel, will never be tall. With my legs always dangling right above the floor, I will never know the beauty of being able to sit back, relax and have my feet touch the floor. And for this, I am always the short end of the joke: “Oh look! Her feet can’t touch the floor! Haha!” Oh, the pain! The absolutely indisputable pain I feel when my feet hang helplessly before me.

And tall people! Let us forget how lucky you have it with clothes! The fashion industry is tailored toward those with long limbs and torsos. But for me, finding pants that fit my short, stubby legs is an endless struggle. Having to roll my jeans not once, but TWICE every morning easily puts me at an unfair 35 seconds behind a tall person and their morning routine.

Now, I know that being tall is not your fault. It’s genetics, and I’m bitter that I will never know the true beauty in being a basketball center or how it feels to tower over a crowd, but it’s OK.

However, Tall People, one thing I do ask is for you to stop running into me and be more aware of your surroundings. I promise I go out of my way NOT to run into you, but somehow, your hips run into my shoulder. I’m not mad, just disappointed. Do better, tall people, do better.


A Short Person