I’ll never forget the first time I ever heard a grown-up apologize to me. I was in sixth grade and was constantly getting mixed up with another student who had the same initials as mine. Unfortunately for yours truly, the student was chronically in trouble, including one notable incident in which she swore at an adult lunchroom monitor.
Later that day, and to my horror, my teacher pulled me up in front of the class and berated me before my peers. I was dumbfounded, confused and hurt. And embarrassed beyond belief. Once I got home I spilled the entire ordeal to my mother, who judiciously took up my cause and set about making things right for her daughter. A few phone calls later and the mix-up was cleared up. I looked forward to returning to school the following day with the belief that my misguided teacher would clear my name in front of the class.
But that never happened.
Instead, after hours of waiting, my teacher called me over to a small room adjoining our class and, once we were inside, she closed the door.
“I’m sorry I mistakenly accused you of doing something you didn’t,” she said. “I was wrong, OK?”
And that was it. The door was opened and I went back to my work — still branded in the eyes of my classmates as the girl who swore at the lunchroom monitor everyone liked.
That was memorable lesson No.1 on how NOT to conduct an apology.
There have been many similar lessons over the many years since then (and I have made more than my fair share of lousy apologies). Each time I am reminded that the anatomy of an apology is steeped within the context of the situation. There is no formula for apology making, as each act of contrition is unique and is dependent upon the people involved and the offence that was committed.
Fast-forward to last week’s Ombudsman’s report that city council did not violate the newly amended Municipal Act when they met outside council chambers in their lunch room Feb. 20 and discussed returning Elton John tickets.
Council had created for itself a level of public suspicion unprecedented in Ontario, the Ombudsman stated.
In his usual “teacher knows best” manner, Mayor Rodriguez showed little remorse in reaction to the Ombudsman’s findings. And he reiterated, yet again, that he apologized to the community while at a council meeting in February.
Obviously, in our dear Mayor’s mind, one apology — on his terms and in his own way — is satisfactory. And he has taken many opportunities to remind Greater Sudbury residents that this one apology has been made. But these reminders after-the-fact have done nothing to quell the fire that still burns in the minds of many. It’s like saying “I already told you I’m sorry, so buck up and move on;” rather than saying, “Gosh, we were really misguided and we really let our constituents down. I’m sorry that this has happened. We’ve learned a lot and we look forward to earning back their trust.”
The difference between these two apologies lies in one word: humility.
Political leader and activist Mahatma Gandhi has been attributed with the opinion that attempting to sustain truth without humility is doomed. Without humility, sustaining the truth becomes an “arrogant caricature.”
Clearly Greater Sudburians can tell the difference.
Mayor Rodriguez never asked his constituents, “Will you accept my apology?” He will find out soon enough.
In the interim, concerned city residents need to forgive and move on. And if, at election time, this issue is still sticking in voters’ craw, then they must mark their ballot accordingly.
Forgive, yes. Forget, no.
Wendy Bird is managing editor of Northern Life.
