Saying 'I'm Sorry' is Just the Beginning

The legislature of Virginia is to be applauded for passing a resolution expressing its profound regret for slavery and for the exploitation of native people. As far as I know, my home state is the first state to do this. It is a courageous step: it names the wrongs in some detail, expresses regrets and looks to a better future.

But regret is only the beginning. We in Virginia – indeed in the United States – need to fully understand that the original trauma experienced by African and native peoples has left effects visible to this day. Expressing regret is an important start. A full apology involves another step, a restorative one.

The need for more genuine apology is also true in day-to-day life. Let’s say you learn that a colleague is saying unkind things about you behind your back. She comes to you and says, "I’m sorry IF I hurt you." How would that feel? Wouldn’t it feel better if she said, "I’m sorry THAT I hurt you."

Howard Zehr

A genuine apology can be boiled down to this: take responsibility for the harm done by (1) naming the harm, (2) acknowledging that it was wrong, (3) expressing sincere regret, and (4) committing to avoid such harmful behavior in the future. This often prepares the way for forgiveness.

An apology might include an explanation or account of what happened, but it must go further – "an apology begins where an account ends," says Nicholas Tauvis in his book Mea Culpia: A Sociology of Apology and Reconciliation. That is, to truly apologize is to acknowledge that, regardless of the circumstances, one has no excuse or justification for what he or she has done.

Obviously apology is not easy. Real apology requires painful remembering and retelling. Apology also makes us vulnerable: It calls attention not only to what we have done but who we are or are not. Because it is painful and potentially humiliating, apology is self-punishing.

Apology is especially difficult if we believe our intentions were honorable and if we didn’t foresee the harmful consequences. Few of us deliberately do harm. The acknowledgement of harm directly threatens our self-image as an essentially good person.

In my field of restorative justice, one would take it one step further, whether apologizing for a large social wrong or a personal one. The perpetrator would try to repair the harm to the extent it is possible. Dutch law professor Herman Bianchi has suggested that this is where forgiveness comes in: forgiveness does not eliminate accountability but forgives the difference between what one can do to make things right and what cannot be made right.

Virginia has set a good example for other states and communities to follow. But it could set an even better one by taking the next restorative step after apologizing. It could offer opportunities to further hear the stories and grief of those harmed and seeks ways to repair the lingering harms.

On a personal level, the next time someone apologizes to you – the next time you apologize to someone – take a careful look. Are they, are you, naming the harm and taking responsibility for it? Are they, are you, expressing genuine regret and committing to avoid such behavior in the future? Are they, are you, open to possible steps to heal wounds? If so, then the miracle of forgiveness and even reconciliation can happen. If not, the wounds are likely to worsen.

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Howard Zehr is co-director of the Center for Justice and Peacebuilding at Eastern Mennonite University, Harrisonburg, Va. He has written or edited numerous books and other publications on "restorative justice," including the best-selling book in the field, The Little Book of Restorative Justice (Good Books, 2nd edition, 2005).

— article by: Howard Zehr; posted March 1, 2007