A Sorry State of Affairs
Apologies fill the airwaves, but is anybody really sorry?
I have been known to be wrong on occasion. In fact, one of the conveniences of being a married man with teenage children in the house is that you are constantly reminded of just how wrong you generally are. Because of this, I have found out many things that seem to go against what passes as common sense to me. For example, I am told that not every longhaired teenager on a skateboard wearing baggy pants is dealing weed. I have been told that if I want to reference the one person in a room full of people who happens to be African-American, I shouldn't describe them by their ethnicity. And never assign domestic chores along gender lines, upon pain of having to make a very public apology.
There's nothing wrong with apologizing. In fact, I find it an admirable trait for a fellow human being to be able to suck up his pride and admit fault when applicable. But the act of apologizing seems to be developing into a standard checklist item for every public-relations firm in America. It slots in neatly between "meeting with the families/advocacy groups/victims" and "entering fun-hab." Obviously, public apologies have evolved into an art form, part of a corporate 12-step program of forgiveness that is noteworthy for its total lack of sincerity. This type of apology is also known as the "celebri-sorry."
There has been a flurry of celebri-sorrys in the media lately, and I believe Vegas is now taking odds on which badly behaving celebrity will be the next one to serve up a steaming hot mug of mea culpa. Recent apologists include Rosie O'Donnell, the 80-grit former host of "The View," a program that finally answers the question, "What would happen if opinionated women hopped up on caffeine and Botox ruled the world?" Anticipating how Chinese news programs would report a drunken interview with Danny Devito, Rosie strung together an unfortunate series of "ching-chong-chow" sounds. Although the audience found this funny, the Asian community did not, and Rosie apologized to the Chinese, every other Asian and most Japanese people as a result. Most people recognized that Rosie is a controversial comedian and let it slide, but her handlers no doubt advised her to go on record, thereby reconciling with the 14 people who didn't have anything better to get upset about.
The celebri-sorry is so often performed, it's hardly noticeable any longer. Michael Richards made his awkward faux-apology on Leno, of all places. Mel Gibson made his apologies for anti-Semitic remarks via a press release, which is a great way to apologize without having to squirt tears for the cameras. Don Imus apologized to the basketball players who may or may not have been nappy-headed behind closed doors, got fired, and signed a multi-million-dollar deal to take his show onto satellite radio. Michael Vick, the quarterback who liked dog-fighting but not so much telling the truth, threw himself upon the altar of forgiveness, but missed the mark and slid off like a big block of Jell-O.
Politicians have enlisted the aid of public-image consultants and elevated the public apology into a deft blend of remorse and spin. Who can forget the abashed, doe-eyed image of former President Clinton apologizing for having sex with Monica Lewinsky? Although moralists and conservatives high-fived his admission, wasn't he impeached for lying under oath? A nation fell under the mesmerizing twinkle of spin and believed it was all about sex, which it really wasn't.
British Prime Minister Tony Blair apologized for his government's failure to relieve the Irish potato famine 150 years earlier, an act of contrition I'm certain was appreciated by all the Irishmen who went through that painful period. The Pope begrudgingly apologized for offending Muslims by quoting a 14th-century Byzantine emperor, before the exploding Fiats could be parked outside the Vatican. (Okay, so that apology was pretty shrewd, actually.) The Rev. Jesse Jackson referred to New York City as "Hymietown," which he really regretted perhaps because everyone knows that New York is really a city, not a town.
But most public apologies are spectacularly unimpressive. Many seem overly orchestrated, and convey obsequious sentiments like, "I'm sorry if people were offended," or, "My remarks were taken out of context." The apologizer usually arrives through a private entrance, takes the podium, spews the carefully worded mea culpa, and jumps back into the limo idling out back. The whole point of the apology is lost, and the jaded public moves on to the next issue that demands fault.
Apologies should mean something, and come from the heart. They shouldn't be made only because you got caught, or in a spirit of appeasement, especially if one believes in what one said or did. For example, if you utter a racial epithet, you've pretty much automatically lost the ability to claim you're not a racist. If you kill somebody, you're still a murderer even if you get right with the Lord later on. It's all about owning up to your actions, and learning from the experience.
What happened prior to 1965 is none of my fault, and although some of what has happened since then may be, I have learned from my mistakes and made my peace with those affected, or I have decided to be content with my actions. I have apologized to my wife, my kids, employers, employees, perfect strangers and God. Surprisingly, over the years, some readers have demanded an apology from me for words they did not like or agree with. If you're one of those aggrieved, I would like to offer the following apology in spirit with the times:
"I am sorry if you took offense at my non-apologetic attitude."
Henry Lightcap has no regrets about living in Las Cruces.