“Do I have to shake his hand?”

“No,” the mediator replied. “You do not.”

The mother let out a soft sigh of relief.

Seven people gathered around a wide boardroom table. At either end were two mediators. On one side of the polished table were a father, the daughter, Ginny, and her mother. Across from them sat the offender, Reggie, who had raped the teen at a fraternity party. A friend sat next to him.

 Reggie had appeared before the Board of Pardons and Parole. Unexpectedly he began crying as he expressed remorse. Ginny’s parents were shocked at Reggie’s show of apology and believed not a word he said. They knew the stunt: impress the Parole Board, get out, and rape someone else.

 The Board Chair heard Reggie’s words differently. She had read his institutional file. Before the hearing he was interviewed for an assessment of the likelihood of future harm. The Chair wasn’t ready to recommend parole, but she wanted to speak to Ginny and her parents. She told them about the Peace Center, which she suggested they contact for a possible mediated meeting with the victim and the offender.

 The father thought Reggie was manipulating them and the system. Finally he agreed not to interfere, because it was what Ginny felt she needed to do. She wanted to look at Reggie without flinching and for him to hear of the harm he had caused.

 During six months of intense preparation, mediators of the Peace Center set up interviews, first with Ginny and her parents, and then Reggie. The mediators believed a structured meeting was appropriate and a date was set.

 The outline of the mediation was deceptively simple. Without interruption each would have the opportunity to tell what happened. The intensity heightened as each spoke of how the rape had affected them. The final portion of the mediation was the opportunity to talk about how amends could be made.

 The room was in complete silence, finally broken by Reggie’s effort to speak. “I want to say…” His body began to shake as he tried to stifle the sobs. In the room came the sound of a chair scrapping. The mother stood up and slowly walked around the table. Reggie was unaware of her presence behind his chair until she touched his shoulder. “We don’t need that today.” Then the mother began her return journey as Ginny and her father sat in stunned stillness.

 Once again, the scraping of a chair on the wood floor as Reggie stood up and followed the path the mother took to her seat. The mediators watched with bated breath, ready to intervene if the situation became precarious.

 The mother began to pull out her chair. She stopped when she heard Reggie say quietly, “May I?” The mother nodded as he pulled the chair out for her. No other words were exchanged. Ginny reached out to her parents, and they joined hands as Reggie retraced his steps. The silence was broken by the nearly simultaneous exhalation of everyone around the table. More work was necessary, but the path had been laid out.

 Months later the mother told the mediators. “That walk I made to Reggie’s chair was one hundred miles long.”

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‍Note: This story is based on a case I mediated. The crime and other details have been changed to protect the people involved. It is, nevertheless, the core of the case and outcome. All names are pseudonyms.

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