I’d be lying if I didn’t feel ashamed of my emotions at times—or all of the time. In my experience, when a person is crying, they are viewed as soft, weak, and delicate. At times, I swear the words ‘learn to control your emotions’ are nearly hanging in the air when I notice prying eyes in any of the places tears have sneaked out despite my resistance.
But maybe my sensitivity does more than embarrass me. In my search for synonyms of the word “sensitive” online, I stumbled upon insightfulness, perceptiveness, and even thoughtfulness.
Perhaps my insightfulness makes me more keenly aware of the little things, such as a forgotten comma in my newspaper article after my seventh scan, or the slightest flaw in the elaborate graphic layout I crafted.
For me, I have discovered power in this seemingly timorous reaction of mine. My perceptiveness allows me to discern what type of zoom to utilize even during the peak-viewing of our varsity football game livestream. It helps me to spot a tiny plot hole in any media I am viewing as clearly as the camera through which I capture photographs.
Yet, picking up on minute details is not all I am capable of. My thoughtfulness is of service when deciding on the perfect collection of words for the climax of a memoir I write. Conceivably, my sensitivity is the greatest source of my creativity and determination to produce my absolute best work.
There are moments in multitudes of media where a viewer of the content is subject to the “sensitive” reaction of crying. Specifically in film, all of these carefully picked choices reach one specific moment. The sound designer exhibits insightfulness by selecting the music for the climactic scene. The cinematographer shows perceptiveness by adjusting the lighting to match the mood of the interview of a documentary. The screenwriter demonstrates thoughtfulness by choosing the final words for the protagonist.
And what do these crucial, careful, and sensitive choices ultimately achieve?
A tear cascades down the cheek of a person in a cinema, someone holding onto the pole of a subway train with their phone in hand, or a person seated on a wooden park bench after viewing the most impactful film they have ever seen—tears shed from the eyes of anyone anywhere in a place far removed from the film’s setting. Yet, despite the differences between these individuals, a profound connection is established.
There is an absolute strength in embracing the depth of my emotions. Whether it’s a film, a piece of writing, or any other form of art, these delicately crafted decisions can evoke intense emotions and foster a bond between a creator and an audience. I want to be the creator, relating to someone like me, who encounters various feelings and uses media to understand them. The act of shedding tears can be an incredible expression of empathy and unity. It bridges the gap between people, regardless of their physical location or personal background, embracing the potential of art to touch our souls and remind us that others possess similar experiences. On my journey to produce, direct, and write for film, I will continue to seek out those instances of meaningful connections where tears fall from diverse eyes, uniting us all in our shared humanity. For I can say wholeheartedly, that I am a very sensitive human being—and that is my power.
