The Quest for Clarity

      There is a pivotal moment in every musician's life: choosing the instrument that will become their lifelong musical companion.  Don't pick wrong - it really comes back to bite you.  For me, that moment arrived in the band room of my music class in grade five, where an array of brasswind, woodwind, and percussion instruments awaited eager hands of curious minds.     Unlike most of my classmates, many instruments gave me a fright just be looking - the heavy-duty tuba that towered over our tiny heads, the saxophones and clarinets covered with countless menacing valves.  As I hopelessly surveyed the options before me, my eyes landed on a gleaming trumpet, its golden curves promising simplicity and ease.  With its modest amount of three buttons and that unmistakable funnel-like piece of metal, it seemed like the perfect choice for a clueless and naïve fifth grader like myself.      Little did I know, that this seemingly innocuous decision would kickstart a journey of countless

      I'll admit that it is quite ironic that I choose to compare myself to Andy Davis in the Toy Story series to represent my relationship with toys because my own name is Andy as well.  S urprisingly, I think we still hold many similar behaviors with the treatment of our toys - with some small twists on my perspective.     Like Andy, I also remember being an eager and imaginative boy that loved building a community and making up stories with my toys.  Only I would probably be more shocked and overjoyed if I found out my toys could actually move, talk, and have emotions just like me.  I mean, I wouldn't think of my toys only when I played with them.  I would fantasize about them everywhere I went - school, churches, in the car, and of course, my dreams.        I'll let one of my most memorable toys Diny do the honors.  My dinosaur had a special ability to grow by soaking him in water, which made my "parenting" experience that much more realistic.  I fell in love

      The myth that men are inherently aggressive and dominant is a thread woven with assumptions, perpetuated throughout generations.  The roots of this myth traces back to traditional gender roles where men are supposed to be the leaders, the warriors, the providers...      Over time, these expectations became a cultural norm, giving rise to the belief that male assertiveness is a natural and unchangeable characteristic.  I find this idea for humanity (and even animals) to be completely absurd - it is impossible to have "inherent aggression" or "an unchangeable characteristic".  Numerous studies highlight the diversity in personality traits among men, debunking the stereotypical aggressive masculinity that all men are expected to endure.  An analysis conducted by Eagly and Sleffen in 1986 found that while men generally exhibited slightly higher levels of assertiveness, the variation within each gender was significantly greater than the differences between them, su