Jason Poling: Regret, but no apparent remorse
Apologies, real and imagined, Part I
The Rev. Jason Poling is the pastor of New Hope Community Church in Pikesville.
Our long metropolitan nightmare is nearly over. Today marks not only the first day of a new administration in City Hall but the last day of the old one. Practically speaking, Sheila Dixon’s ability to exercise real power as Mayor ended with the announcement that a jury of her peers had found her guilty of misappropriating gift cards. But today the formal reins of power will be transferred to Stephanie Rawlings-Blake. The apostle Paul wrote to his lieutenant Timothy that “first of all, I urge that prayers be offered for kings and all those in authority,” words that all of us living in or near Baltimore would do well to heed.
But in many respects the more important terminal time for Sheila Dixon is not noon, when her successor will be sworn in, but 9:00, when she will be formally sentenced according to the plea agreement reached with prosecutors. Wednesday’s Sun carried an op-ed by Dixon that was remarkable only for its resolute refusal to take note of the elephant in the living room. There is nothing at all unusual about politicians singing their own praises and boasting of their accomplishments, but in the present context it had the feel of Tiger Woods telling his wife about the great putts he made on the tour last year.
Arising from Dixon’s conviction was the strong sense among virtually all constituencies that she owed the city an apology. Yet shortly after the jury’s verdict was announced in early December she offered a statement that bore only a faint resemblance to one: “I deeply regret,” she said, “that the citizens of Baltimore have had to go through this ordeal with me.”
She expressed regret, but she did not express any remorse for the ways in which her own ethical failings had put “the citizens of Baltimore” in the position where they “had to go through this ordeal.” You can regret all sorts of things without owning any personal responsibility for them — I will say, “I’m sorry” to someone whose pet has died, but we both know that I’m expressing sympathy rather than admitting guilt. But to express regret when remorse is in order…well, that’s basically saying that you’re sorry not for what you did but for getting caught doing it.
Some hoped that when Dixon announced her resignation a month later a genuine apology might be forthcoming. Instead, when asked whether she owes Baltimoreans an apology, she replied, “What I owe the citizens is to move on, to bring closure to this, to continue to stay focused on the city.” On the first and third points, I can only assume from the absence of flames shooting out of City Hall that Mayor Dixon is indeed going to vacate her office having spent the last month working out an effective transition to her successor. But the second remains.
By speaking of “closure,” Dixon affirmed (if inadvertently) what so many were saying: that the municipal wound she opened is still raw. Many of us know what it’s like to be harmed by someone who refuses to take ownership of what he’s done; some sort of expression of regret (“I’m sorry if you felt hurt by what I said”) may squeeze out but no genuine “I’m sorry.” We may manage to forgive, and work out what it’s like to live without holding a grudge, but there’s still this scarred, numb part of us that does not feel right at all. We know we can only be made whole when the person who cut us open comes to us displaying remorse and repentance rather than mere regret.
Mayor Dixon’s constituents — from former staffers to respected local leaders to ordinary people on the street — tried to help her understand that. But the most bizarre moment of her resignation speech came toward the end, when she responded to a question about the near-universal demands for her to apologize by arguing, “There were a few people who asked for that.” If she truly did believe that only a smattering of disgruntled citizens wanted her to apologize, I have to stand in awe of a political staff capable of constructing a nearly perfect echo chamber around their principal.
Yet other comments would indicate that Dixon is aware that closure will only come with a full disclosure on her part. Until now, Dixon has asserted on several occasions that she wants to tell her side of the story, that once she is on the other side of her sentencing she will be free to explain why she fought the charges. Given the evidence that’s been made public, given the fact that a sympathetic jury convicted a popular mayor of criminal wrongdoing, and given the fact that when I see Sheila Dixon talking I have the very strong suspicion that she is not to be trusted, I doubt that she will be able to offer a compelling alternate narrative. But you never know.
“When that’s all explained,” she said when announcing her resignation, “when people can get every piece of the puzzle put together to understand what’s happened over these last several years…” well, like a lot of her sentences that day this one didn’t get completed. Perhaps soon she will complete the sentence by delivering not an explanation but a real apology. Then, and only then, will a meaningful and healthy closure be possible.
Next week: Jimmy Carter’s “apology” for his comments about Israel.
