Accountable Apology: A Ritual

“Apology is more than an acknowledgment of an offense together with an expression of remorse. It is an ongoing commitment by the offending party to change his or her behavior…it is a method of social healing that has grown in importance as our way of living together on our planet undergoes radical change.”

— Aaron Lazare

My experience with witchiness has given me an understanding of how we use ritual for letting go, for forgiving, for compassion and care. But what about when we need to hold onto things, for accountability’s sake?

Especially as #MeToo has brought forth a number of new apologies, I’ve been thinking about the role of apology in our lives: part confessional, part acknowledgment, part repentance, part regret, part promise to do better… all bestowed on those we’ve hurt in the hopes of receiving forgiveness.

Apology is a social act, something we do in private and in public. I’m left with questions about the relationship between our apologies and our accountability to those we harm. When apologies include cinnamon roll recipes or forget to include the words “apologize” or “sorry,” however, there is a clear problem: we don’t know how to apologize accountably.

What if we made apology into a ritual, just as we have ritualized forgiveness? What if our apologies centered collective healing and justice, instead of centering our guilt and shame? A spell for apology is just as necessary as a spell for forgiveness or letting go.

I have been vocal about my identity and my politics since high school, and as such, I’ve received easily a dozen apology emails or Facebook messages. These apologies often involve a spilling of guilt and anxiety, emotions that I don’t need to be flooding my personal inbox. Phrases like “if I hurt you” or “if that was offensive” populate these messages, casting doubt about whether they are actually about acknowledging harm, or just assuaging anxiety about having done something harmful.

These kinds of apologies—the kind that happen in textual form, the kind that come out of the blue—leave me with a whole laundry load of emotional labor to do. When I don’t know the function of these apology messages and emails, I’m left wondering if a response is necessary. If a response is required, what do I even say? What if I’m not ready to forgive them? What if I sense that the apology is still more about them than about me? A half-baked apology is a heavy load to carry, and yet it seems to be becoming the norm. Harboring long-festering guilt about the way you microaggressed your classmate several years ago? Why not send them a long email about your deep regrets and guilt?

The apology crisis is widespread. People are writing apology how-to’s and pointing out how frequently an apology can turn into a gaslighting opportunity or a chance to offer a competing narrative, turning sympathies away from the harmed and onto the harmdoer. We overapologize, we underapologize, we use our apologies to seek our own comfort or reassurance, we bury the harmed party with remorseful words. Clearly, we have a problem.

Apology can be an opportunity for holding on, for exploring the intricacies and folds of the harm that we’ve caused and the harm that we’ve been subjected to. Apology can be an opportunity to sit in the messes we make, taking in their impact rather than making excuses. Apology can be an invitation—not a demand—for forgiveness. It can begin the processes of healing and restoration, when done right. It can be an opportunity for repair.

With healing sometimes comes pain or discomfort. When we apologize, we are responsible for noticing the feelings that come up for us—what are they telling us? What can we learn from our apologies, and what can they teach us about our relationships to responsibility, culpability, punishment, and forgiveness? The ritualization of apology offers answers as well as new questions.

With that, a ritual for apology:

ACCOUNTABLE APOLOGY

ingredients:

• tarot cards
• candle of your choice

light your candle, observing the flame and its fragility. meditate on the ease with which it can be extinguished—a strong breath, a cover, or a splash of water could put out this heat and light in a heartbeat. hold the tarot deck in your hands, thinking of the one you have harmed. how has the harm you’ve inflicted impacted them? how has it impacted you? how has it impacted your relationship? pull one card for each of these questions. interpret. reflect. put away your cards and blow out your candle, holding in mind the meaning of your three-card pull.

consider the relationship you have to the one you have harmed. what boundaries exist? how do you (or did you) normally communicate? how might you start a conversation that respects boundaries and facilitates your apology? consider how vulnerable you are willing to be. reach out in the way that feels right. try to find a way to look each other in the eye. offer an apology that is specific. offer an apology that takes responsibility and holds yourself accountable. offer an apology that does not put onus on them to emotionally caretake for you. offer an expression of your remorse. offer a specific commitment to doing better. offer a specific commitment to stopping harmful behaviors, making amends, and hearing about the harm you’ve caused. do not expect an immediate expression of forgiveness. consider this the beginning of the healing.

Brianna is a young twentysomething with a passion for social work, social justice, intersectionality, and witchcraft. She’s honing her tarot skills, growing her herbal knowledge, and self-educating about crystals, focusing her craft on the practice of writing as self-healing. She is particularly interested in self-care and collective care through witchcraft. Her work has been published at Black Girl Dangerous, The Tempest, and The Establishment. For more, check out her website. To support her work, please visit her Patreon or buy her a coffee.