As a teacher for 20 years, one of the most important lessons I tried to model was this: when you make a mistake, own it. If I raised my voice, blamed the wrong student, or reacted unfairly, I had a rule—if the mistake happened publicly, the apology needed to be public too. I wanted my students to see that everyone, even teachers, can make mistakes—and that a sincere apology is part of making things right.
At one school, however, I encountered a troubling practice. Students were required to apologize whether they meant it or not, and the other student was forced to accept the apology and shake hands. It didn’t sit right with me. What message were we sending? That saying the words “I’m sorry” is enough, even if your actions don’t change? That children must accept an apology, even when it’s clearly insincere?
I stood firm in my belief that apologies should come from the heart. I taught my students the four parts of a sincere apology: say what you’re sorry for, explain why it was wrong, express genuine regret, and describe what you’ll do differently next time. I also told them something few adults say out loud: you don’t have to accept an apology that doesn’t feel real.
To drive this point home, I created a classroom lesson using a beautiful ceramic plate. In a planned moment, a student (in on the lesson) smashed the plate on the floor and casually muttered “sorry.” The class was stunned. The next day, I brought the plate back—poorly glued, chipped, and clearly damaged—and asked, “Is it all better now?”
We all agreed it wasn’t.
That simple, powerful moment helped my students understand that real apologies are more than words—they require sincerity, accountability, and change. Saying Sorry Isn’t Good Enough was born from that experience. It’s a story to help children, parents, and teachers understand that we do children a disservice when we teach them that “sorry” fixes everything. It doesn’t. But a heartfelt apology? That’s a step toward real repair.
