You’re Not Sorry
I started my teaching career in a logging community in Oregon nearly 16 years ago. As a new teacher, I was given the majority of “at risk” students and although they were 9-12 graders in high school, many of my students could hardly read or write. I learned quickly that by forming relationships with students and showing interest in their lives we could form a rapport. I could usually get kids to work with me and at least make some growth in their reading and writing skills over the course of the school year. Riley, seemed to be the one exception to the rule. The first day of class, he wrote sexually inappropriate comments about me on his desk and left them for me to see after class was over. I was horrified to have all my authority and training as a teacher reduced to one word more appropriate for animal behavior in a cattle yard. I felt cheapened and humiliated. I wrote him a referral as instructed by administration and he was given a detention. He was not really sorry.
Despite a school rule that no food or drink were allowed in class, he continued to come to class with a 32oz soda and gulp it noisily, while I tried to teach grammatical structure. I was trying to pick my battles and I let Riley’s behavior go for a few days, but the anger was building inside of me. I sort of hated the kid. My rage reached a boiling point when after a week of trying desperately to build a positive rapport with him, he brought a 64oz Slurpee to class that was about the same size as his desk. I saw red as I pictured his stupid face slurping the drink every time I introduced a new part of speech. I knew it was a not so subtle attempt to attack my authority in the classroom and as a teacher. I grabbed the Slurpee and threw it in the wastebasket. “Your time to drink a Slurpee was during lunch. You will not drink it in this class. I’m done. I am just done!” I yelled in his face.
His anger matched my own. “You c@#t!” He screamed. You “f#$%ing c@#t.” He repeated. In my whole life, no one had ever called me the “See You Next Tuesday” word. I was stunned. He bolted from the room and the rest of the class watched in wide eyed silence. You couldn’t have heard a pin drop in that room. I reported the incident and a few days later, Riley was forced to apologize or else face Saturday detention and suspension. I was frustrated and knew that a fake apology would do nothing to help my struggles in the classroom. I spoke to a mentor teacher about the incident. I remember what she said to me pretty clearly. “Oh my gosh. It’s awful that he said that.” She then raised her eyebrows and looked at me intently. “Do you know much about Riley?”
“No,” I confessed. I really didn’t. She explained to me that his mother had died a few months ago. His dad was a logger who couldn’t read or write and he lived in the local trailer park. Most of his brothers and sister had dropped out of school at age 14 either due to pregnancy or to spend time in juvenile detention. He was the only one in his family who had made it this far. The kid had a third grade reading level, but was still fighting to stay in school. “None of that gives him an excuse to say what he did,” I protested.
“True,” she said. “But I think that 63 oz drink was really about economics?”
"What do you mean?”
“He’s really poor, Debby. Really poor. When he comes to class with that drink, it’s like saying, I am somebody. I can afford this and I’m going to drink it like a big shot. I’m as good as the other kids. He may have been choosing to buy that Slurpee over an actual meal, the social status is that important to kids like that.”
I nodded my head slowly as I began to understand. “And I took that from him.” She didn’t answer, but just gave me that knowing look. My mentor teacher had done something quite powerful for me. She changed the way I saw the student. At first, I only saw defiance and menace, but with the insight into his life, I felt genuine compassion for Riley.
He came trudging into my classroom later that afternoon for the orchestrated apology that would keep him from Saturday detention. Before he could apologize to me, I interjected. “Riley, I don’t think I handled the situation with your drink correctly. You shouldn’t have been drinking in my class, but it was disrespectful of me to just grab your drink and throw it in the trash. I know those cost at least 5 bucks and that was pretty uncool of me. I’m sorry.” I handed him a five dollar bill.
Riley looked a little shocked. In all the scenarios he had imagined, this was not one of the ways he thought this conversation would go down. He then broke in with his own apology. “I’m sorry for what I said. You’re actually a pretty good teacher and I shouldn’t have said that. I was really mad, but it wasn’t okay.” The moment was sort of amazing. His apology felt genuine and mine was genuine too. We understood each other, if only for that moment. Riley and I were able to completely reshape a relationship that was headed toward a dumpster fire and turn it into a positive teacher student relationship. This is the power of a genuine apology.
In a marriage, we all utilize different strategies and methods to get along with each other. We have different personalities, strengths, and weaknesses and we tend to cope with life using varied techniques. Sometimes relationships that seem confrontational may actually be healthier than the ones that seem peaceful on the outside. If you were to look under the veneer of smiles and romantic Facebook pics, you might find harbored anger, jealousy, and resentment. All marriages have problems and some of us see the coming storm from a mile away and others are completely blindsided. Despite the complexity of human relationships, lasting success does correlate with the ability to take responsibility for ourselves. When people are genuinely sorry for the hurt they do to others this usually means a couple can find a way to reach a peace with each other. Ultimately, they may not be able to save their marriage, but they can leave with a sense of good will toward their partner, even if they’ve been hurt by them. Where can any relationship go if we’re not sorry for the hurt we inflict on the person we’ve made a commitment to love?
This principle isn’t just about marriage. The ability to reflect on our own wrong doing and taking action to make it right, is really a question of responsibility and maturity. We are stepping up to the plate without knowing if things will go our way, but hoping that the experience will make us better. Taking genuine responsibility for our actions is important in every facet of our life, if we are truly to grow into our best possible self. After infidelity, if partners are to be restored, both parties must face the music. The cheater must decide to look honestly at the destructive nature of their behavior, work to understand why they embraced a destructive act, end the affair, and commit to repairing the hurt and devastation that have been reaped by their actions. The person who has not cheated must also look honestly at the problems in the relationship and how they may have consciously or not consciously contributed to their spouse’s infidelity and work on these issues. They must come to terms with anger and emotions that they might not fully be able to understand in the moment. At some point, they will need to recognize what drove their spouse to his/her destructive actions, see past their own hurt and muster some compassion for a spouse driven to such extreme behavior. Forgiveness can take place even if the spouse has not repented for stepping out on the marriage, but reconciliation will not be possible. There is an intense challenge for both parties and many of us resist growing up at all costs. After all at the end of the day, isn’t that what responsibility is all about: growing up? Many of us will insist on seeing ourselves as a victim even at the cost of not moving forward toward a better life.
The healing process takes time, commitment and perseverance. If either partner isn’t really down for this long term struggle of making the relationship work, the ship is sunk even before the voyage of healing has begun. I am partial to Paul’s letter to the Galatians. He says, “For each will have to bear his own load. One who is taught the word must share all good things with the one who teaches. Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up”(Galatians 6:5-8 ESV). Paul always provides practical advice for Christian living and in this letter he couldn’t be more clear. We are responsible for our own behavior and must focus on our own actions. We will reap what we sow. Consequences for sinful and harmful behavior may take their time in surfacing, but at some point if we are reaping sin, bitterness, anger, and destructiveness, we will be haunted physically and emotionally by our own actions. We will not find peace, joy, or happiness because we are in the flesh and not seeking the spirit.
Life doesn’t always go our way. We will always struggle, there will be injustice and pain inflicted upon us and sometimes we will be the source of that pain for others. In the midst of this reality, if you do your best to take responsibility for yourself, embrace honesty in your self-reflection and are committed to work on your own challenges in relationship with others you will at least feel good about who you are. You will also find yourself too focused on meaningful work, reaping the harvest of what you’ve sown, to spend much time dwelling on the wrongs others have committed against you. You may just find that by being genuinely sorry, you’ve allowed your humility to guide you on a path that leads to a better life.
