When news broke that a former Catholic priest in Louisiana issued a written apology to survivors he sexually abused, many survivors were left holding complicated emotions. For some, acknowledgment can feel validating. For others, it can reopen wounds or feel hollow without accountability. And for many, an apology is simply not something they want or ever asked for.
This moment, tied to the long and painful history of clergy sexual abuse in Louisiana, deserves careful examination not just of the words themselves, but of what survivors truly need to heal.
The Long Shadow of Abuse in the Archdiocese of New Orleans
The Archdiocese of New Orleans has been at the center of one of the most extensive and disturbing reckonings with clergy sexual abuse in the United States. In recent years, the Archdiocese has faced hundreds of abuse claims, many tied to decades-old misconduct that was concealed, minimized, or ignored.
In 2020, the Archdiocese filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy amid mounting lawsuits. Since then, survivors have continued to come forward, and civil litigation has uncovered patterns of institutional failure, documents revealing that known abusers were shuffled between parishes, complaints were buried, and children were left unprotected. In October of 2025, the survivors involved in the bankruptcy proceedings approved a $230 million settlement.
While settlements have emerged from this process, financial compensation alone cannot erase the harm survivors endured. Nor can institutional statements fail to center survivor autonomy and accountability.
Why Apologies Matter And Why They’re Not Enough
Research on trauma and restorative justice shows that acknowledgment of harm can be meaningful for some survivors. A genuine apology can validate a survivor’s experience, affirm that the abuse was wrong, and counter years of silence or disbelief.
But it is critical to say this clearly: an apology is not justice.
An apology does not replace criminal accountability.
It does not undo years of trauma.
Nor does it obligate a survivor to forgive, respond, or engage in any way.
Every survivor is different. Some want acknowledgment. Or answers. Accountability through the courts. Others want distance and privacy. Trauma-informed advocacy demands that all of those responses be respected.
Lessons from the Inmate Apology Bank (IAB) Apology Bank
During my time as Pennsylvania’s Victim Advocate, I oversaw the Inmate Apology Bank (IAB), a program designed to manage apology letters from offenders to victims.
The premise was simple but essential: control must always remain with the survivor.
Offenders were permitted and often encouraged to write apology letters. However:
- Advocates reviewed every letter before it was ever considered for delivery
- Letters that minimized harm, shifted blame, or caused potential retraumatization were never forwarded
- Survivors were never surprised with an apology
- No letter was sent unless the survivor explicitly requested it
Most importantly, survivors exercised control by choosing how they wanted to receive the apology by mail, in person with advocate support, or read aloud over the phone or Zoom.
This process mattered because returning choice and control to survivors is a cornerstone of trauma-informed care. Abuse steals autonomy. Healing requires restoring it.
Acknowledgment Without Accountability Rings Hollow
When apologies emerge from within institutions that spent decades protecting abusers, survivors are right to be skeptical. Words, no matter how carefully written, mean little without transparency, structural reform, and meaningful accountability.
For many survivors of clergy sexual abuse, especially those harmed within the Archdiocese of New Orleans, acknowledgment must come alongside:
- Full disclosure of institutional records
- Cooperation with civil litigation
- Support for statute of limitations reform
- Survivor-centered compensation processes
- Cultural change within religious institutions
Without these actions, apologies risk becoming performative, another attempt to manage public perception rather than confront the full scope of harm.
Survivors Decide What Healing Looks Like
At Andreozzi + Foote, we understand that healing is not linear and it is never one-size-fits-all. Some survivors may find meaning in acknowledgment. Others may find peace in legal action. Many will choose both. And some will choose neither.
What matters is that survivors get to decide.
No survivor owes an offender forgiveness.
Or owes an institution grace.
Acceptance of an apology does not make a survivor whole.
If clergy sexual abuse harmed you or someone you love in Louisiana or anywhere else, civil justice empowers survivors to seek accountability, uncover the truth, and pursue healing on their own terms.