Every so often on the news, you’ll see a feel-good story in which the subject of the story is touted as a “hero.” There was Captain Sullenberger, who safely landed the US Airways jet in the middle of the Hudson River. Occasionally, there’s the toddler who dials 911 and saves his mom’s life. We love to hear about these things because it reaffirms our faith in humanity.

Think of how many times you hear the term “sports hero” in a single week? I appreciate sports with the best of them, but I think our terminology is a bit wrong though. If you asked Captain Sullenberger, he’d say he’s not a hero. He performed a heroic act but he would say that the label of “hero” is not really appropriate.

When the media surrounds and focuses on these kinds of acts, it sends the message that in order to be a hero, you have to perform some one-time feat of extraordinary heroism. That’s just not true. The most heroic among us are the ones who live heroically.

True heroism exists in those of us who exhibit little acts of heroism every day. It’s the parent who works two jobs to put food on the table, the person fighting cancer, the single mothers, the child who stays out of trouble and gets good grades in school while living in a home where drug and alcohol abuse is rampant.

My hero is a man who spent his entire working life in a foundry so that he could provide a home for his family. I am speaking of my dad. The foundry where he worked was so hot that he constantly had a V-shaped redness on his neck while I was growing up, from where his shirt collar ended. He’d come home so tired that he’d fall asleep in the recliner while Mom made dinner. He never got impatient with his kids, and even took time to answer the myriad of stupid questions I fired at him all the time. “Can dogs see color?” “Where does fire come from?”

All of it was for his family. He didn’t have time for hobbies, didn’t belong to a country club–in fact, he has never owned a new car in his life. He has never had to run into a burning building to save one of his kids, but we all know he would if the situation arose. He has never had to perform some dramatic life-saving gesture for any of us, but his daily actions have shaped our lives and made us better people for it. True heroism comes in increments and is cumulative. He, and others like him, will never make the 6:00 news, will never be given a medal for courage, but that makes them even more courageous in my book.