Sorry I'm not sorry

I am a chronic apologizer and you may be one, too, without even realizing it. I’ve apologized for speaking up in class. I’ve apologized for not speaking up in class. I’ve apologized for being late. I’ve apologized for being early. I’ve basically apologized for being a human being with an opinion—but I will not apologize for this column.

My sophomore year, in my class, The Interpretation of Culture, a fellow female student prefaced her question with the following phrase, “I’m sorry. I’m not sure, but I think …”

Professor Paige West, who defines BAMF in my mind, interrupted her right there. “Don’t apologize ever again. Qualifying your statement with an apology is something that female students do all the time,” she said, in front of the entire lecture class.

I quickly jotted down her words in the margins of my notebook—and this piece of advice has been one of the most useful things I have learned in college so far.

My first class in the French university system began last week, and, being the sycophant that I am, I sat in the first row. “Can someone give an example of a conflict in Asia related to multiculturalism?” my professor at Sciences Po asked.

I hesitantly raised my hand. “I’m sorry—I’m not sure if this is correct, but maybe Tibet in China?” My voice shook with fear, as I unreasonably expected my entire class to roll their eyes at me.
“Yes, exactly!” she replied. I sighed in relief.

I then recalled what professor West said about me at office hours. Last semester, she noted, “You’re the most apologetic student on campus.” I had sincerely apologized for “wasting” her time in office hours by asking so many questions, which is ridiculous, since these little brackets of time exist so that students can speak to professors outside of class.

I mean, I was nervous. It was my first day of class at Sciences Po. I felt slightly intimidated by my classmates and my professor. But being nervous, overwhelmed, and intimidated does not mean I had any reason to apologize for offering my thoughts. I had carved into my mind that I was a waste of time for my professors and my classmates, and this was a self-perception that I needed to change.

Throughout the past two-and-a-half years in college, I’ve watched my fellow female classmates dart their eyes hesitantly around the classroom, limply raise their hands, and apologize for saying something completely brilliant. I’ve admonished myself for doing the exact same thing—but changing such an ingrained habit doesn’t happen overnight. Being confident about what you say—whether you’re in a 12-person seminar or a 300-person lecture—is nerve-wracking. No one wants to be the village idiot.

Ladies, we’ve invested far too much in our education (and Moleskine notebooks) to not speak our minds in class. If you’ve done the reading or assignment, and you have something to share in class, please say something. (It’s very likely that half the class didn’t do the reading and would really appreciate your contributions anyway.) If you didn’t understand something in the reading or something said in class, you should speak up. (I guarantee that most of the class is confused in some way too.) Some of the most interesting things I’ve learned in class come not from my professors, TAs, or readings, but from my fellow students. Qualifying your statements with apologies does a disservice not only to yourself, but also to your fellow classmates, who respect your thoughts a lot more than you may think. You haven’t done anything wrong. You just think you did.

So, I offer a challenge to my fellow female students as we finish our first few weeks of class: Don’t apologize for the brilliant things you say. And if you catch yourself beginning an unnecessary apology, heed the following piece of advice from saucy Elle magazine advice columnist E. Jean Carroll: “If you suffer the heinous habit of constantly saying ‘I’m sorry’ (a real career killer, right up there with downing a flask of vodka before important meetings), take your pathetic ‘I’m sorry’ and start adding three words: ‘I’m sorry ... I’m so brilliant.’ ‘I’m sorry ... I’m so stunning.’ ‘I’m sorry ... I’m so miraculous.’”

Take a deep breath. This could feel awkward at first, but I’ll start: I’m sorry … I’m so articulate. I’m sorry … I’m so thoughtful. I’m sorry … I’m not sorry.

Noel Duan is a Columbia College junior majoring in anthropology and concentrating in art history. She is currently studying abroad in Paris and is the co-founder of Hoot magazine. You Write Like a Girl runs alternate Thursdays.