The Art of Apology

One afternoon, I was probably seven at the time, I was playing Wiffle ball with the boys down the street when their dad came home from work. Instead of going in the house like he usually did, he joined our game, offering to pitch. When it came to my turn, he stood up from his pitching stance and asked, “Shouldn’t you be playing with dolls?” 

I did offer a reason. I don’t actually remember the specific excuse I gave for choosing sports over dolls. It was probably garbage, being seven and all. Really, my debate skills hadn’t come in yet. What I do remember about what followed is the line drive I hit. Right back at the dad. At just below waist level. Sorry, my actions spoke louder than my words that day. The talk of dolls was never revisited. 

Regardless, that afternoon, I was initiated into my education in apology. Being sorry wasn’t a new concept. Obviously not. I was a kid. And kids get into trouble, so the lessons on being sorry started early in the growing up process. 

This was different. I think I knew that on some level at the time. The memory wouldn’t have stuck with me otherwise. If I said anything to my parents, I don’t remember. Knowing me, I didn’t because I was embarrassed for not being able to defend myself.

If I’m right and I didn’t, I should have. I needed to see their eye rolls. I was seven defending myself against an adult. Of course, I wasn’t going to have a dog in that fight. I needed their kid-friendly version of “That dad is an asshole, and you don’t need to listen to that bullshit.” Instead, I most likely moved on, filing the incident away under “Weird things adults say.”

Wiffle ball, as it turned out, was not the most egregious thing I would end up doing. It became increasingly clear as I got older that the neighbor wasn’t an anomaly. I realized this around the time boys stopped having cooties. One of my friend’s mom offered up the advice, “boys won’t like you if you’re smarter than they are.” 

How does one pull that off exactly? The honor roll was posted every quarter in the paper and in school. Let alone the paper trail we were handed to take home. So pretending your grades weren’t as good as the boy you were interested in, or dating doesn’t work. Unless you tank your own grades on purpose. 

This was a bridge too far. At least for me. I don’t even let people win at card games. If the advice is legitimate, not following it would explain my extended stay in the Friend Zone. Realistically though, the trade-off wouldn’t have been worth the reward. Sorry, to quote Rizzo, that’s the worst thing I could do.

These are just two points on a graph tracking my relationship with this concept of apology. Our relationship status was then and still is today set to “It’s complicated.” Many other moments in between and since tell a different story. I have apologized, tapped on the proverbial brakes and even kept my mouth shut in the name of other people’s comfortability. 

The obvious explanation for my sporadic timidity and self-confidence is part personality. I’m not one to court confrontation. But it also comes from the environment in which I was raised. My nuclear support system bolstered confidence in my abilities. The external forces around me inserted the subconscious need to qualify those same abilities.

I almost fell out of my chair during Spider-Man: Far From Home. During an early scene, Quentin Beck turns to Peter Parker and says, “Never apologize for being the smartest person in the room.” The line shattered the fourth wall. 

Why the hell is this advice trapped in the silver screen when that other advice is running around free and causing havoc? 

Yeah, the line was delivered to a kid talking quantum physics, but it can be applied here too. I’m not saying I’ve been the smartest person in the room in terms of raw intelligence. But I’ve felt what Tom Holland was emoting in that scene. Who hasn’t felt like their brain was oozing down their face because of the people staring at you?

I’m sorry, but I think know-how should be celebrated. Honestly, when the villain of a story is the one making sense, we are in a weird place. Whoops, spoilers. 

Girls and women are at a disadvantage in this relationship. There is a prejudice against female achievement to start. The acceptable arenas where we can shine are limited. To step out of those bounds and you are setting yourself up for apologies all around. Add to that any confidence or specialty, and your apology quota expands exponentially.

There is language used to ameliorate women. Supposedly. Covered by the mantle of empowerment, the speech ends up accomplishing the opposite of its intent. 

Don’t believe me?

Let’s take a look at the term “girl boss.” Innocuous on the surface, but is there a need for the qualifier? To answer a question with a question, but Nicole, you qualify nerd with girl, isn’t that the same thing? No. I don’t think it is. I put the girl suffix on nerd to clarify the lens in which nerdiness is going to be filtered through. 

If you’ve come this far down, I hope you’ve got the hint empowerment is where I’m headed. I don’t think terms like girl boss are the way to go in expressing it. Using words like this is not celebrating our abilities. I know girl boss was birthed out of a push for empowerment. I appreciated Sofia Amoruso’s books much as the next chiquita. She had a lot of good points to make and advice to give. These terms unwittingly reinforce the division created by this idea of apology.