For most kids, learning to ride a bicycle is a right of passage. I was no different. I had long outgrown my tricycle and I wanted a bike, a bike with two wheels – a real bike!
One day, to my complete surprise, my dad came home with a bicycle – it was for me. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t pretty. But it was mine! I was thrilled because I never thought I would ever have my own bike.
After lots of failed attempts, I finally got the hang of keeping balance as long as kept pedalling. Once I had mastered the art of coming to a stop without not falling off, my dad decided to take me for a bike ride. It was just him and me. Me and my dad! I was on top of the world. Off we went riding side by side.
After a while, we stopped at the side of the street and he told me to wait while he crossed the road to go into a shop. I think he was going to buy some cigarettes. I remember him telling me to wait, but after a while I was tired of waiting and so decided to cross the road.
I got hit by a car.
The next thing I know, I was lying on the ground looking up at a lot of people looking down at me lying on the ground. This was obviously not a good thing. So I did what seemed natural at the time – I decided to cry.
Somehow my dad managed to get me and both of our bikes back home where I ran into the house and told my mum I had been run over by a car. My dad corrected me and told my mum I got ‘hit’ by a car.
But this isn’t about riding a bike, or about the dangers of other vehicles. It’s not even about me ignoring my dad’s instructions. It’s about what happened next.
Here’s the interesting part.
A few days later, there was a knock at the door. It was the man who had been driving the car – the car I had ridden in front of. Out of concern, he had come by to see if I was alright. Dad invited him in and they chattered while my mum made a pot of tea.
Then my dad told me to tell the man that I was sorry for what I had done. Let that sink in for a moment! It had been my fault and therefore I had to apologise.
Today, we are warned from a legal perspective to never say sorry, citing that it can be construed as an admission of guilt. I have bumped into doorposts and instinctively said sorry – it’s what we do. Things like this are sewn into our very fibre. I’m reminded of a line from my favourite Star Trek series – ‘Star Trek Enterprise’ – “We can’t save humanity without holding on to what makes us human.”
In that moment I was taught that we are accountable for our actions. If we don’t learn this early enough in life, we would grow up believing we are can do whatever we want without consequence. I may apologise to the odd door post or two, but I’m not sorry if this if this offends anyone.
See also – A Moral Dilemma
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