Beyond the Image
In life we are taught to categorise ourselves from a young age. Choose a box and grow within it. Boys must choose the blue box and girls must choose the pink box. “What will you be when you grow up?” A question many of us are familiar with I’m sure, mostly due to our childhood experiences. When asked this question, most of the boys in my class at school would answer in a way that is similar to how many young children still respond today: “Fireman”, “Footballer”, “Doctor”, “Lawyer”. All respectable career choices of course but I find a flaw lies in the sheer simplicity of these answers.
“Choose a box and grow within it. Boys must choose the blue box, and girls must choose the pink box.”
As children we are taught a lot of things... always wash your hands before dinner, say please and thank you, and the complexities of this subject look both ways before crossing would be lost on an infant but if we the road. But we are NOT can teach our children the fundamental taught how to look at skills such as how to tell the time, can’t we ourselves. Of course also teach them how to read themselves? young children Of course life is a journey, one that we continuhave young ally grow on (most of us anyway, not bullies, bullies are min d s losers) and we learn new things about what makes us tick a n d every day. That being said, I feel the quest to find who we are
would be an easier one if we had been taught to be ourselves from day one. In a society that spends a for tune on colour coding children is it any surprise we have so many unhappy individuals today? Growing up I was raised in a council area situated within West Belfast; I had
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two brothers, a Mother and a Father (I still do luckily). I grew up in this area in the 90s, before Social Media had invaded our lives, or TV really for that matter. It was a treat to watch TV on a Saturday morning, and other than that we had to play in the street. This was normality for me therefore it was perfect. Every Saturday my Dad would take my younger brother and I into town (City Centre) he would do a few bets and then we would go to the pub – we drank Coke but my Dad drank the good stuff. Each outing finished with a trip to the infamous ‘Leisure World’, which at the time was the best toy shop in all of Belfast – everything great and fantastic was sold there but alas, it is no more. Anyway... on one par ticular occasion we were in a hurry and under strict instructions to choose something quickly. I don’t handle pressure very well – it makes me flustered and my hear t rate increases, I’m sure many of you can re-
late. However on this occasion I chose a typical boys’ toy – the selection must have been poor or else I had just turned a corner in my quest for creative genius. The toy I had chosen was a toy Cowboy Set, complete with a Hol-