Here's a plot twist nobody warns you about: you don't have to be NBA-tall to suffer the "tall person tax." Sometimes all it takes is being a few inches taller than the people around you, and suddenly you're living a completely different life than everyone else.
## Exhibit A: The Classroom Back Bench
Remember school? If you were tall, you were automatically assigned to the back bench. Didn't matter if you wore glasses, struggled to read the board, or simply preferred sitting up front. Apparently classrooms ran on a strict "shortest to tallest" hierarchy.
And here's the part that isn't so funny in hindsight - being tall, wearing glasses, and still getting sent to the back bench, every single time, actually stung. It wasn't just a seating, it felt like being told your height mattered more than your learning, your grades, or how badly you wanted to see the board. Funny enough, the last bench has this whole reputation for being where the "troublemaking, the sleep-in-class and snack-silently" kids sit. Small comfort when all you wanted was to sit close enough to actually read what was written up front.
## Exhibit B: The School Play Casting Couch
Ever notice that in school plays, if you were the tall girl, you somehow always got cast as the "boy" in the scene? Didn't matter if you wanted to be the princess. You're tall? Congratulations! you're the prince, the dad, the guard, or whoever else needed to tower over someone. And let's talk about moustaches on another day! Being tall isn't a personality trait in these situations, it's a casting requirement.
Nativity plays had their own unofficial casting rules. If you didn't fit the imagined version of Mary, (height included) you were suddenly Joseph, a shepherd, or one of the wise men instead. Throw in a pair of glasses and you'd basically been cast as "extra" for life.
## Exhibit C: The Group Photo Witness Protection Program
Group photos are where tall people quietly disappear. You spend ages picking out an outfit, doing your hair and makeup, only to end up in the back row with nothing visible except your face...floating above a sea of shoulders like a Zoom call gone wrong.
And if you're not in the back, you're on the very edge of the frame, where wide-angle lenses quietly turn everyone into a funhouse mirror.
For those of us with medium or darker complexions, the back row often felt like a double disadvantage. Between standing farther from the light and cameras that haven't always rendered darker skin tones well, you could end up almost disappearing into the background. Whether intentional or not, it was hard not to notice.
## Exhibit D: The Dance Floor Demotion
Last but not the least, there's dance. School dance days came with the same rule — if you were tall, you were "the boy" in the item: dhoti, shirt, mundasu wrapped around your head, while everyone else got the gorgeous lehengas or dresses. And no points for guessing the tall boy's position! I never even bothered getting pictures from most of those performances and at some point, even stopped dancing.
I still dance and perform today. These days, it's less about where I stand and more about why I'm there. Dancing won't last forever, and I'd rather spend that time dancing than worrying about which row I'm in.
Looking back, it's funny how consistently height became everyone else's logistical problem to solve. School ended years ago, but some habits never did. Whether it's group photos, weddings, or family reunions, the tallest person somehow still ends up in the back.
## The Common Thread
So, the pattern? Classroom seating, school plays, photo lineups, dance rows — it's like there's an invisible rulebook that says: If you're tall, go stand somewhere else, preferably behind everyone else. Nobody really asks if that's where you want to be. It's simply assumed that your height makes you easier to place than to ask.
So here's to the tall people of the world, quietly holding up the back row of every classroom, every play, every group photo, every dance formation — present, but perpetually out of frame.
