Am I safe here?

Today I’m writing about learning to apologize and I think it’s safe to say that the place I find myself doing the most apologizing is in my marriage. 

Not because it’s a bad marriage! Because it’s a good one. 

Jim and I generally get along really well, but for the longest time there was one heated discussion we seemed doomed to repeat over and over again. Whenever Jim started a conversation by saying, “when you [whatever I did], I felt [whatever he felt]” the conversation that followed would inevitably descend into a performance of my hit single: Why should I be the one to change?

These arguments were so epic that the year we finally figured out how to stop having them became a milestone in our relationship. There’s Jim and Caro “before” and Jim and Caro “after”. 

I wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to describe what Jim may have experienced during these interactions (I totally would, just not in writing), but I can tell you that my approach was, er… problematic. 

Fortunately, I came to the conclusion at some point (probably after we broke up for the second time) that I wanted the situation to change and the only thing I really had any control over was my own behavior. 

Since then, I’ve learned a few things. Notably, that I don’t have nearly as much control over my own behavior as I thought. But also, I’ve learned about apologizing (and actually meaning it), I’ve learned about listening effectively, and I’ve learned about changing things I wasn’t even aware I was doing that were causing us trouble. I don’t always get it right - I slip back into old habits now and again - but I’ve definitely developed some new skills.

Those skills were put to the test about three weeks ago. 

When my Instagram feed started to explode with messages from my friends insisting that we had to do more about racism and the oppression of black and indigenous people of colour (BIPOC), I made the decision to start informing myself about anti-racism and white supremacy before I took action. I went into full-on research mode, watching videos, listening to podcasts and reading articles. Within a few days, I’d informed myself into a state of utter and complete overwhelm. 

Then I came across this video by Osheta Moore and the disparate pieces started to come together. She explained that when white people are discussing racism on social media with the best of intentions, what they say often hurts more than it helps. To avoid that, she suggested they could focus their messaging on one of three things:

I’m sorry. Get into the practice of apologizing without making it about them.

I’m listening. Tag and cite the people they’re listening to, say what they’re reading.

I’m learning. Talk about something they’re learning about racism, specifically related to their unique ability and responsibility to dismantle white supremacy.

Hang on, I thought. That’s familiar. Moore’s framework for talking about racism called on the same skills I’d developed when I was trying to do right by my marriage. 

Only now I wasn’t trying to do right by one person, I was trying to do right by many people. By humanity! It was like I’d just learned to drive and I was merging onto the 401 Highway for the first time:

Same skills, totally different scenario.   

I decided I should have another look at those skills before I went any further. 

My buddy Brené Brown (she’s not my buddy for real, just in my head) once offered an online course with Harriet Learner, who literally wrote the book on apologizing: Why Won’t You Apologize? Brown has now made their online course available for free in a two-episode podcast on how to apologize, which I devoured in one sitting. 

I’ll tell you what, Harriet Learner knows what she’s talking about.

According to Learner, a true, heartfelt apology does not include rolling your eyes, justifying your actions, or demanding an apology in return. All my best moves! 

So what exactly does this apology-superwoman expect from us? She breaks it down into nine rules. Here are a few that had me squirming:

A true apology does not include the word but. As in, “I’m sorry… but here’s why I did it” or “I’m sorry… but you started it.” If I’m sorry is just a segue into all the reasons you’re right and they’re wrong, you’re not apologizing so much as defending yourself.

A true apology keeps the focus on your actions and not on the other person’s response and feelings. “I’m sorry you’re so sensitive” isn’t taking responsibility for your actions. Also, it’s pretty condescending. 

A true apology doesn’t get caught up in who’s more to blame or who started it. Apologize for your part. If you don’t entirely agree with what they feel you did wrong, apologize for the part that you can agree with, even if it’s only 5%. 

And this one I’m going to quote word for word:

“A true apology does not ask the hurt party to do anything, not even to forgive. When we give an apology, of course we would like forgiveness, but an apology is not a bargaining tool… one doesn’t ask for something. It’s about giving.”

Apologizing: harder than you think.

So what's the point of all this apologizing? It's about helping the person you hurt feel calm and safe again.

A week or so after mentally downloading Learner’s helpful reminders, I listened to a good friend of mine, Chantelle Diachina, sit down with Julie Walsh on her podcast, Coffee Connection. Chantelle was there to talk about racism and her experience as a bi-racial woman. She told a lot of important stories and I encourage you to have a listen. One of the things that stood out to me was hearing her talk about how vital it is for people to feel safe (0:28:00).

When we’re hurt by someone, our brains switch almost instantly from believing that they’re with us to believing that they’re against us. We often don’t even realize it’s happening - one moment it feels like they’re on our side, the next our hackles are up. 

If we want to have a productive conversation, one of us has to re-establish a feeling of safety. 

A feeling that we're on the same team, working toward the same goals. Otherwise we’re just standing on opposite sides of a boulder, pushing hard and getting nowhere. Whooole lot of effort, not a lot of movement.

Of course, you can’t just tell someone “you’re safe!”, they have to feel it in their body, in their nervous system. Listening will go a long way (more on that next week) but taking responsibility for our actions, a.k.a. a true apology, is a good place to start.

And so it came to be that the way I showed my support of BIPOC on social media, amid the hashtags and black square posts, was to apologize. I apologized and I meant it. 

A few days later I listened to Brandon K. Goodman explain why he doesn’t need our apologies.

What, you thought I was giving you definitive answers here? No, no. Just hypotheses. 

While apologizing felt like the right move to me, Goodman makes a good point: if you’re going to apologize, you better be ready to back it up with some changes in behavior. Take it from Learner, “A true apology requires that you do your best to avoid a repeat performance.”

Noted, Ms. Learner. Noted. 

C. 

Next week: Part 3 - Learning to listen (A lesson from my mother)