by Alison Lebovitz

Why is it so easy for us to make mistakes and yet so difficult for us to render apologies?  And I’m not talking about the lackadaisical, loose-lipped, less-than-legitimate kind of apology that most people give while basically saying it in passing – “Oh…sorry.” Or the adamant, angry, accusatory apology that comes in the form of “Well, SORRY!” that makes it sound like it’s actually the victim’s fault.  And don’t even get me started on the sarcastic, “Sorry, Charlie,” sort of apology made famous by those StarKist Tuna ads and used so flippantly by all the other fish in the sea. Because no matter how you say it, spray it or try to play it, there is certainly nothing sorrier than a sub-par sorry.

So, when my friend, Jill, shared her method of using a three-step apology, I was only sorry I hadn’t thought of it myself. She first came up with this idea after listening to a portion of The Last Lecture, by Randy Pausch, the now famous speech and book by the Carnegie Mellon professor who wrote it as a legacy to his children before he passed away. This part, in particular, dealt with apologies, and basically said that a bad apology is worse than no apology at all. He went on to speak about apologies as one of the most important skills to learn in our lives, and outlined three parts for a proper apology:

1.     What I did was wrong.

2.     I feel badly that I hurt you.

3.     How do I make you feel better?

An educator herself, Jill was inspired by this new way of thinking and came up with her own very simple three-step apology based on this idea: I’m sorry. I take full responsibility. How can I make it up to you? And the first time Jill put this philosophy into practice, she was amazed at the results. After a longtime bully at her school had belittled a smaller boy in front of some of their classmates, Jill insisted that the bully give this three-part apology to the boy, who was not only hurt, but also deeply embarrassed in the process. After the bully said the three-parts, the boy looked him in the eye and said, “There is nothing you can ever do to make this up to me,” and walked away. The bully cried his eyes out, at which point Jill said to him, “I believe that is consequence enough.” Since that day, that boy has never bullied another person again.

So, a few years ago, my husband and I decided to implement this same three-part apology in our own household, and the results have been equally stunning. When one of our sons does something wrong and then apologizes for it, they know that a plain “sorry” won’t cut it, so they will ultimately if not automatically launch into the, “I’m sorry. I take full responsibility. How can I make it up to you?” medley, which has become their mantra.  And the only thing better than hearing those words come out of their mouths, hearing them accept responsibility for their actions in such a profound way, is listening to the creative responses they give for the ways they can “make it up” to each other.

I think you should lose your Nintendo DS for a month.

I think you should make my bed for a week.

I think you should have to sit in complete silence at the dinner table tonight.

I think you should give me all your Level X Pokemon cards.

I think you should never ever do that again.

Needless to say, some of these suggestions don’t always get implemented, but I always find this rudimentary concept of retribution to be quite resourceful. And in our house it’s definitely a two way street. A few months ago when I wrongly accused one of our children of doing something, and then said, “Sorry,” our son looked me in the eye and said, “That’s not a real apology, Mom. I need to hear the three steps.” And he was right. So I stopped what I was doing and instead responded, “Honey, I am so sorry for accusing you and making you feel bad. I take full responsibility. How can I make it up to you?” He thought long and hard before saying, “That’s okay Mom, I know you didn’t mean it. Just don’t do it again.” And before walking away he added, “I still love you.”

And for me, that was certainly consequence enough.