This last week I have been thinking about apologies.
Particularly, I have been thinking about the form that
apologies can take.
Now, if someone alerts me to the fact that something I have
said has upset them, it might seem like the obvious response is to simply say “I’m
sorry”. But, the more I think about it, there are a variety of possible
responses, indeed a spectrum of responses, and while all of these responses do
something, not all of them apologise to the hurt person of allow for reconciliation
between us.
Come with me on a journey of thinking about apologies. We’ll
consider the form apologies can take, and what the words do. We’ll think about
an apology I made, and a Pixar film I wrote about at uni last year that has
helped me to think about human relationships.
At the one end of the spectrum we have a response of denial.
It denies the hurt of the upset person, and the fact that I said anything that
might reasonably cause offense. It takes this kind of form: “Look, you actually
misunderstood me, that’s not really what I said”. What happens here, is the
fault of bad feeling is placed on the upset person. They had the wrong feeling
or the wrong response. I just need to point this out to them, and then we both
go on our merry way and nobody has to change. I go on saying, thinking and
doing the same things, and the hurt person can go on feeling whatever they like
and it is of no concern to me.
At the other end of the spectrum, we have, I guess a
response of mortification, where I take on a lot of guilt, and at first our
roles seem reversed. I might say “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I did that, I
feel so awful that you feel like this.” Now, I’m not sure this is really ok
either, because the hurt person might now feel tempted to give ground and say
they weren’t really that hurt, and not to worry about it. They might assume
they overreacted, even though they’re thankful for the apology. They might even
apologise to me for making me feel bad. So what does this apology do? It makes
me a supposed victim, and it still erases the hurt of the person I upset. In
short, not only did I upset the person, I then emotionally manipulate and bully
them into thinking they hurt me.
Somewhere in the middle there are Quick Fix Apologies and
Band-Aid Apologies.
In a Quick Fix response I say something like “hey, I’m sorry
you feel like this”. This apology has a silent ‘but’. It is really, “I’m sorry
you feel like this, but there isn’t anything I can do about it/its not my fault”.
Here I see your pain, but I don’t think its any my responsibility. You probably
feel obliged to say “no worries”, at which point we both carry on with our
lives. We hope the apology covers up the incident, and business as normal
resumes. It’s a quick fix because while it might allow a swift return to smooth
operating between us, it doesn’t necessarily safe guard against repeat
situations.
Very similar to the quick fix are Band-Aid apologies, but I believe
Band-Aid apologies have some potential. In a Band-Aid case, I might say “look, I’m
sorry you feel this way, but its really not what I intended”. This is ok. It’s
a starting point, and I think we all make these kind of apologies all the time,
and they do a lot to helping us to get on with our fellow humans. I acknowledge
the other person, and I acknowledge their hurt, but I don’t accept any
responsibility for it. This kind of response allows me and my friend to kind of
patch things up. To stick a band-aid over the situation. She’s upset, I can see
that, I’m sorry the situation happened, but it was all a misunderstanding. My
friend is appeased, but there is no guarantee I won’t hurt her again, because I
might carry on in the same way, and she might carry on ‘misunderstanding and
being upset’.
This response though could start a dialogue of reconciliation
and apology, because underneath Band-Aids we do often heal. I might follow up
my initial comment, and say “I’m sorry you feel this way, and it isn’t what I
intended, what can I say or do to avoid this happening again?” And then, my
friend and I can enter into a dialogue and discuss the situation, and I can
listen to them, and come to understand how my action was hurtful, and which
point I might say, “I am so sorry. I’m sorry my words hurt you”.
Now, its possible that I might have said that last apology straight
away. I might straight up say “I’m sorry my words hurt you. I’m sorry I hurt
you”. Here, I acknowledge hurt, and I acknowledge that I said or did something
that created hurt. This is an apology, and again this allows for reconciliation,
and it allows for growth. We can grow together.
You might be reading this and thinking, but what if it was a misunderstanding? Or what if that person was having a bad day, was already on edge, or just
thinks everyone hates them? Well, first off, I want to say, if someone
claims you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t. It may have been
a misunderstanding, and maybe they do already feel like the world is against
them, but if a person feels like the world is against them, then I say we go
and stand with them and face that world together, and I can only do that if
first I say sorry, and if second I go and listen to them, to paraphrase Maria
Lugones, I have to be willing to travel into the world of the hurt person. The idea
of seeing from the place of the view point of another, of world traveling is at
the core of Lugones’ thoughtful and influential article, ‘Playfulness, “world”-travelling,
and Loving Perception’, in which she insists that a failure to identify with
another is a failure to love them. Lugones teaches us through the example of
her relationship with her mother, as she writes:
To love my mother was not
possible for me while I retained a sense that it was fine for me to and others
to see her arrogantly. Loving my mother also required me to see with her eyes,
that I go into my mother’s world, that I see both of us as we are constructed
in her world, that I witness her own sense of herself from within her world.
(Lugones: 1987:8).
What Lugones’ is hoping to show us is that empathy, love and
understanding of others are interwoven. And an apology, a reconciliation is an
act that requires empathy. If I’m to apologise effectively, I must be willing
to imagine how my words sound in the ears of the other, even if they sounded
fine to me.
Let me tell you of an apology I made perhaps a decade ago,
that was made after a misunderstanding, and taught me to look from the eyes of
the hurt person, even though they had misread me.
I was in church, perhaps 9 or 10 years ago, and I was
sitting towards the front. I was very busy in this particular church. I was on
Parish Council, I was a youth group director, I was on the roster at our
youth/contemporary service as a Service Leader. I went to regular meetings to
plan and pray for the direction,
activities an character of that service. I was not without influence, though I don’t
think I always felt that way at the time. This one evening at church, while I
was sitting towards the front, we started to sing a particular song, and I turned
to the person next to me and made a face. If you know me, this probably doesn’t
surprise you. I’m not shy in letting people know I don’t like the vast majority
of songs in the contemporary church repertoire. So, whats wrong with what I did.
I don’t like a song, or I thought it was silly, and I make a face. I don’t have
to like all the songs, so what’s the big deal? The deal is the song leader saw
me, and read my face as being against her. She assumed I was casting judgement
on her, on her musical abilities, her service and contribution to the church.
She mentioned her hurt to a leader at our church, and I was spoken to and asked
to write an apology. At first I was pretty indignant. I wanted to plead my case
with this leader. I wanted to justify my actions. I wanted to explain that I didn’t
have a problem with the song leader in question, but the reality was a woman at
my church was upset because of something I had done. It didn’t matter how
justified I thought my action was, what mattered was that I made steps to be
reconciled. And as Christians, I think this matters particularly because we are
told that to be reconciled with our brothers and sisters needs to happen before
we come before God.
I wrote the apology. It was hard. I wanted to say “I’m sorry
you are upset”, but my flatmate pointed out to me that this was not an apology.
I’m going to be honest here. I don’t remember what I wrote. I don’t remember if
my words were good enough. I don’t know if my apology did everything it had to.
I don’t know if back then, in my mid twenties, I was capable of seeing that I
had hurt a member of the body of Christ. I don’t know if I thought about the
fact that if part of the body was hurting that perhaps the whole body was. I
really doubt that I did. And I wish I could have done better. But I
learned, learned to be careful of my
responses, of my in-jokes, in case they not always be thought of as witty or
funny. I learned, but I’m not perfected, and I still sometimes catch myself
eyerolling at a key change that I find unnecessary, and I remind myself that
instead of demanding that all music be to my taste I should work towards being
thankful for the time and talents other members of my church are willing to
offer in service of our community.
I write these thoughts after I took part in facebook ‘discussion’
among Christians, where a few loud voices spoke back and forth at each other, and
in the end, I don’t know if any of us benefited, or if any of us have had the
opportunity to learn or grow from our interactions. In the end, the initial content
of the conversation mattered much less to me than the suggestion by one of contributors
that a hurt person had to prove they were sufficiently hurt (by him), before he
would apologize. Of course, it’s possible I misunderstood him. I don’t know. I
wonder, if when we find ourselves thinking someone needs to account for their
hurt, if we might think differently if we were willing to travel into their
world, and even if we’re sure we’re not to blame, maybe, just in case we are,
we should try stepping into their world and seeing what they see.
Last year I wrote about the film Inside Out and the relationship between the anthropomorphised
emotions Joy and Sadness. I used them to illustrate a concept of
relational identity and Posthuman subjectivity,
as explained by theorists such as Allison Weir (through whom I encountered
Lugones) and Rosi Braidotti (who I have been lucky enough to meet!). As I began
to learn about relational identity I learned that through empathy and affective
solidarity we can begin see the world not as self vs other, or us vs them, and
instead we learn to grow in response to our encounters, our relationships, and
our embodied experiences in the world. When I reflect on this interaction on
facebook, in which a queer girl Christian told a straight white man Christian that
his words contributed to an archive of hurtful actions on the part of the
church even though he was well
intentioned, I wonder what Joy and Sadness might be able to teach
us here.
You might recall that early on this film Joy tries to erase
and overlook Sadness by finding an out of the way corner for her, drawing a
circle round her, and asking her to stay there. What good is Sadness in this mission
of making the protagonist, Riley, happy? If you’ve got to insist on being sad, that’s
fine, just be sad where you won’t get in the way. Its not until Joy and Sadness
are both expelled from headquarters, have together suffered many trials and
setbacks and then been separated that Joy, now alone in Riley’s memory dump,
sees the value of Sadness. Here in the memory dump Joy can forget herself and
cry. Reaching in to the bag she has been carrying which contains Riley’s core
memories, Joy takes out a memory she has always considered a happy memory. As
Joy replays the memory the beginnings of relational, transformative
identification with Sadness occurs. On her second watch, Joy is able to see the
memory turn blue, the colour representing sadness. Joy sees that this ‘happy’
memory is more complex, it contains multiple stories. The memory becomes happy
only after it was held together in sadness. For Joy, this new identification
with Sadness “becomes a process of remaking meaning” (Weir:2008:125). Joy
learns to see the value in Sadness, and she learns that valuing sadness need
not necessarily make her less joyful, instead it will allow them to work
together more productively.

For me, learning to apologise and to stand in the world of
another, is part of learning to love.
..
references:
Braidotti, R (2013) The Posthuman, Polity Press:
Cambridge & Malden
Lugones, M (1987) 'Playfulness, "world"-Traveling and Loving Perception, Hypatia, 2:2 pp 3-19
Rivera, J
(Producer) & Docter, P (Director) (2015), Inside Out (animated
motion picture), Pixar Animation Studios and Walt Disney Productions, France
and America.
Weir, A
(2008) ‘Global Feminism and Transformative Identity Politics’ in Hypatia 23(4),
110-133. Indiana University Press. Retrieved August 20, 2016, from Project MUSE
database.
also, a google image search sourced the pic of Joy and Sadness for me... and apparently it was posted here
**If you're a christian person and you're thinking about your connections, friendships and relationships with LGBTIQ people, and thinking about the necessity of apologising to LGBTIQ people, whether you should do this, or how it might be done, one thing you might like to consider is visiting Equal Voices, and taking a look at this info on an apology **
No comments:
Post a Comment