Last night, before turning in, I watched “Teacher of the Year,” on Netflix (as a high school English teacher, I’m a sucker for teacher movies). I don’t recall the main actor, but the flick did feature Key (from Key & Peele) as the high school principal and the Sklar brothers as inept guidance counsellors. The movie, shot in the documentary style of shows like “Parks & Rec” and “The Office,” was decent though only managed to skim the surface of teacherly occupations. The teachers’ complaints and interactions on conference night were pretty astute. 
The part that got to me was the protagonist’s relationship with his daughter. There’s a scene where he’s getting ready to leave for work and his little girl runs crying from her bedroom, upset that he was leaving without saying goodbye, or eating cereal with her, or watching cartoons (in other words, their morning routine). And I found myself crying during this scene because it reminded me so much of my own daughter. We’ve had the exact same exchange, with her running into the garage and driveway after me, upset that I hadn’t said goodbye. This was unintentional in both the film and real life. We just didn’t want to wake our daughters up. Wanted them to get their sleep. 
I find that as I get older my qualms about crying diminish. This is probably in direct correlation with the fact that I cry more easily over sentimental media: TV, movies, commercials. I suppose that’s okay. Who really cares if I get weepy? I mean, I don’t blubber regularly in public, but in the confines of my living room watching something, or my car listening to an audiobook or podcast, I’ll shed a few tears. Perhaps being a parent opens the emotional conduits even wider. 
Don’t be afraid/ashamed to cry a little. 

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