I Am Sorry...Maybe

“Deeply unapologetically sorry.” Those words in Danny Westneat’s Seattle Times editorial drew me in. I sipped my coffee and read his editorial. He was decrying the repeated incidents of public figures asking forgiveness, even with tears, but also with disclaimers and sometimes with retractions (Seattle Times, October 21, 2007).

He closed his article with the assertion: “The Catholics have it right. They say: Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. They don’t say: Forgive me, Father, I may have sinned, only the courts have to sort it all out, so in the meantime, can you start forgiving?”

His point is well taken. It is true that there are grey areas in moral decision-making. But of late our societal mores have made everything grey with no black or white, no right or wrong. So how can we experience guilt or true heartfelt sorrow?

Another problem with our societal reluctance to admit wrong is that it steals the opportunity for others to forgive. How can you forgive someone for what they maybe did but not exactly? Or what they did but are not guilty of?

As a high school teacher, I saw these principles at work from many angles. Most often a student’s “I’m sorry” meant: “I am sorry you caught me (cheating).” What kind of restoration could that bring? Occasionally a confronted student was called up short by an incident and a moral light went on. It was important that he or she hear the severity of the moral wrong. That was character-building for the student. It also made possible forgiveness and restored relationship.

The principle holds true with mistakes as well as moral transgressions. (However, they should be named what they are. Confusing mistakes and moral transgressions leads to moral confusion.)

When I was a young teacher I found it difficult to admit my mistakes to parents and especially to students. I had a maturing experience when an angry parent called me on the phone and took me to task mercilessly for behavior her son said had taken place in my classroom unchecked. I was stunned as it did not fit my view of myself as a teacher. Could a notebook really have gone hurling across my classroom without my seeing it? My first impulse was to defend myself. I did not know if the parent’s report was accurate.

But as a parent myself, I understood this parent’s feelings. In desperation and from my heart I said, “I can understand how you feel. I am so sorry that I allowed your son to feel unprotected in my classroom. I will do my best to see that this never happens again.” I was startled by how quickly the parent gave me grace and understanding. I learned something about my class management which benefited that class and my future students. It also influenced the way I communicated with parents. All of us were better for the truthful communication.

It works teacher to student as well. When I misjudged a student or spoke too harshly, I wanted to pretend it didn’t happen or delay dealing with the incident. I learned over the years to immediately make it right. “I am sorry. I was wrong.” Difficult but truthful words to speak! Surprised and relieved, the student would usually wholeheartedly forgive me and often admit that he or she shared some of the blame. Our truthfulness brought us closer together. I hope it modeled for my students the need to live morally and authentically and when we fail, to boldly say--with no hesitations, postscripts, rationalizations or re-interpretations: “I was wrong.” Danny writes that saying “I did it” before we say “I’m sorry” has a way of “transforming ugliness into beauty.” I believe he’s got it right!