This post was first published a year ago. Though a lot has changed, the thoughts and conclusions are sadly even more relevant today than then.
***
Last night, when out with my beloved celebrating our 30th anniversary (#brag) I bumped into another patron. I’m soooorry he said, in the cutest little Canadian accent you could imagine. I nearly hugged him.
But talk of apologies is in the air this week, in various forms and formats in my life. One of my online faves Portia Noir, invited a discussion around accountability this week, asking how we can make apologies meaningful. I also found that my own personal style of speaking, and regularly saying sorry, was maybe confusing to people who know me.
So a theme emergeth.
Something that mattered enormously to me as a parent, was raising children who are accountable. Growing up in the military, maybe gave me an unusual perspective on this issue because standing in feedback is very much built into that lifestyle. Even if that feedback is something like “Am I hurting you Sonny? I should be cause I’m stood on your bloody HAIR!!!” Classic.
Then I became a person and then a teacher and discovered that a lot of people, and I really mean a LOT, don’t know how to apologise. By not knowing, of course I mean not putting it into practise, but it amounts to the same thing. Defending yourself, or even blaming the victim is the norm, deferring accountability or internal reckonings.
When I was 14, I did something really horrible. Along with some others, I bullied a girl who was at the bottom of the social totem pole. It wasn’t violent but it was physical and I felt almost outside of myself when I was doing it. That didn’t last long. My friend and I were pulled into the Head of Year’s office and given ‘a good talking to’ and certainly for me, it was a turning point. I recognized the disappointment coming from the teacher, a kind of ‘you? really?’ vibe because I wasn’t that kind of kid. But it turned out, I was. Because I did the thing.
The shame I felt was deep and immediate. To bully is such a repugnant behaviour and I have spent my life trying to correct that balance, but I still remember how I felt when I said sorry to a girl who simply had the misfortune of being weird and having a broken coat. I sincerely felt shame, horror even. I didn’t try to explain, I was too mortified. I just said sorry and stood there, my head bowed and my stomach churning. She accepted my apology I think, I couldn’t hear much for the blood pounding in my ears. But I never forgot.
In my way I tried to protect that girl when I could, but like any kid I got caught up in myself pretty quickly. Maybe she moved, or maybe I just didn’t come into contact with her, but I never forgot what I did. When my kids were younger, I told them that story. I wanted them to understand that literally anyone and everyone is capable of hurting another person in this way. That even their own mother, was flawed and made bad decisions sometimes. None of us are above a sincere apology, none of us are above hurting others.
Notice I don’t say it was a ‘mistake’. A mistake is when you use the wrong coloured pen. Deciding to bully a girl because, frankly, it felt good to be on the winning side for a minute, was not a mistake. It was a conscious choice made for bad reasons. My fault. That’s it.
I guess I was lucky that I grew up in a household where I was held to account, but I think it is a learned behaviour too. I lived in a world where I saw many people (cough men cough) ‘getting away with’ their behaviour. When I had a boy child myself, finding ways to teach accountability was at the top of my list of priorities. But something I had to learn to do, was construct a good apology.
When the kids were small, days could be long, especially come winter time. For a few years we only had one vehicle, so when Stephen was at work, we couldn’t leave the farm. If you’ve experienced an Ontario winter, you know that staying inside is the preference but…long days, young kids.
Of course they would fall out, hurt one another, be unkind. Though they have always been close, when you spend a lot of time together it can be easy for things to get rough. Something I was not willing to tolerate. I’ve never subscribed to the ‘boys will be boys’ doctrine, especially not after working in education for many years. I witnessed as a post high school instructor time and time again, boys and men who were shocked when feedback was less than glorious. Shooketh they were, that a WOMAN no less, was telling them their work was not good enough. That they were not good enough. Luckily I’m a stone cold Brit, so most of the protests went right over my head. But protest they did.
So. To avoid such nonsensical behaviour in my own children I created a system. Here are the ‘rules’ I instituted with my kids to handle apologies and such:
Focus on the harmed not the harmer. This is something I see all. the. time. One kid hurts another kid and it’s the perpetrator that gets all of the energy and attention, probably what they are seeking in some way but not a strategy we want to reward. In our house, the victim, the one harmed would get the attention while any discussion of why or how waited. If you hurt someone, whether you meant too or not, you are accountable.
Once the harmed person is ok, talk about what happened but accepting blame is important. Yes your sister annoyed you, but pushing her off a hay bale is not a helpful response. Yes she’s following you around, but only because she idolizes her big brother. I would make them see the harm in the other person, see their pain and take the time to absorb the pain they had caused.
Be clear about what the apology is for. A generic ‘I’m sorry’ means nothing if you don’t fully know why the other person is upset. Getting to the bottom of that can lead to some very fruitful conversations, let me tell you. Conversations like “I’m not upset you were cold and wanted to come in, I’m upset because you lied about your sibling coming in too which might lead to her becoming a small child shaped popsicle.” Specific apology for a specific action.
Then. I would offer a discussion around reparations. How might you make up for hurting your sibling? Perhaps they get to decide the rules of the game, or you cuddle up and read their favourite book. Making things right is a huge part of my philosophy and comes before we get too stuck on the ‘why’ of it all. To be honest, if you run over my foot, I don’t care that you were flustered I care that my foot is broken.
Also, giving the opportunity to make things right, was an important aspect of my parenting strategy. Even if there was a justified reason for the harm (there often was a need for correction on both sides), we can’t go around pushing people off hay bales every time they annoy us. Would that we could, but we just can’t.
I did it too. Modelling is something I learned as a teacher and it stuck. Show don’t tell. Embody the behaviour you want the kids to learn. So I apologise. I tell them why I am sorry and I am specific in being accountable to the parts I can control. I don’t excuse triggering behaviour, it’s perfectly logical that I might lose my ever loving mind because of lingering laundry that never. gets. done. Or for leaving things on the ground for me to trip over, or gates left open in fields…the list goes on. But I am an adult lady, and I am in charge of me. I lost it, which may be logical but it isn’t ok. If I expect my kids to regulate themselves, I can hardly expect less of myself.
Forgiveness. That’s the final step. Apologies mean nothing if the resentment still lingers, if you accept an apology you move on. Not dredging it up from the past (I mean…who would do that? Ahem…), but genuinely learning from the moment and moving on. My kids will often say ‘It’s ok’ when I apologise, but I don’t accept that. I ask for their forgiveness and I stress, every time, it must be freely given. They are allowed to stay mad or sad, until we have resolved things. They very rarely have, if ever, but I stand in a place of receiving feedback and I try to listen to what I have done wrong, no matter how much it pains me.
I grew up in a culture where grown ups were always right. Always. Even when they were very obviously wrong. So the person I hold to the highest standard is myself. Am I setting the right example for my kids to follow, am I asking something of them I am unable to embody? It’s not the easiest or quickest pathway, but that was why I homeschooled, to give ourselves the time to do what we need.
In the world we find ourselves in, truly the dumbest timeline, this simple concept is very much at top of mind. Accountability. We are currently witnessing what it looks like when there is no accountability, where no one takes the blame or reflects on their actions. Where people believe utterly in their own infallibility, to the detriment of everyone as they try so desperately to shore up their own, fragile sense of self.
I read this piece to my eldest child, partly because we like working on writing together, and partly to get his ok/memories on this subject. Something he added was that we would always have food around these apologies, something to make us all feel better. It also reminded me that sometimes, kids are hungry and do silly things. There is often an underlying cause that needs to be ‘treated’. Perhaps some Time In, enforced love snuggles on the sofa with reading or a favourite show. Perhaps a private chat about what might be triggering strong emotions, perhaps time outside in the cold, moving our bodies to get the scratchies out. This doesn’t circumnavigate the need to apologise, but it does help make sure these things don’t happen again, immediately. Or that next time, we might avoid the issue altogether.
Huwyl told me that the fact that I wouldn’t let myself off the hook, the fact that I told them how gross and icky it feels to be in the wrong, to stand in feedback, to have no one else to blame, helped him accept the same struggle. It feels awful. But so does carrying around resentment and petty feuds. So does being unkind to people you love. So does shame.
The work of raising kids, of shaping humans, can feel small and endless and exhausting at times. When you are in the trenches, this constant plugging away doesn’t always feel meaningful. But when you get the chance to stand back and see what your efforts yielded, the people that you have helped to shape, that picture changes. The work becomes visible and the ‘product’ is a human that can take accountability and is able to grow from that learning. Is able to say ‘that was wrong’ and figure out a better way. Is able to say, ‘I’m soooorry’ and find forgiveness.
Like my son said, “Yeah it feels horrible, but just suck it up and apologise so that you can move on.” He’s a smart lad that one. I hope people like him are in charge some day.
Some day soon.
Love and Blessings as always,
Emmalina xxx
I love this Emma. I have bullied too. Accountability is so very important.
It's always been interesting to me to see how much people avoid accountability like the plague, as if it's the worst possible thing. Because for me, the worst possible thing is knowing that I've hurt another human being. Accountability is easy compared to that feeling. Also the more you do it, the easier it is, and the more you realize it's not the end of the world. But I guess true accountability needs self-awareness first, and that's something a lot of people really don't want to engage in.