An example from my own life: as a white guy who teaches a course on Native cultures, I am sometimes asked by a student about my own family's history. The true and honest answer to that question isn't very pretty. And from a certain perspective, they have no right to ask. I'm not my great great grandfather, and can't be held directly responsible for his actions. If I wanted to, I could get really mad and refuse to say anything, and maybe I would be justified in my own mind in doing so. It wasn't me who raised a gun in bad times and made some awful decisions. If you'd asked me that question when I was nineteen and naïve, I'm sure that's exactly how I would have reacted.
And yet, what would be accomplished by obfuscating things, lying, or worse, getting angry and belligerent? Their anxiety wouldn't be put at ease, quite the opposite. No learning would be done, no understanding reached. Petty anger over a question that anyone with a brain and a history book knows the reason for achieves nothing and only prolongs existing relationships of mistrust.
Instead, when this happens, we sit down and have an honest conversation: about what happened, how I feel about it, and most importantly what I'm doing to right those wrongs. And it's enough. At least, it always has been up until now. We move on, and usually on a much more even footing than we were on before the question was asked. This sort of thing irritates people like Trausti, because I'm de facto voluntarily accepting responsibility for something when I don't have to. But fundamentally, if you were a student of minority background, who can no more escape their families' past and legacy any more than I can escape mine, who would you rather have for a professor? Trausti, or myself? Being questioned over the past may not always be, strictly speaking, fair. But it's part of social life, and objecting, let alone going into dramatics and slinging accusations of your own around, only drags things out and makes the consequences worse than if you'd just been honest and ready for dialogue in the first place.
If I'd actually personally done criminally negligent things in my past, it wouldn't even be a question. Of course I would have to answer for those things. If your DUI episode took the life of another person on the road, your prison sentence however long will not bring that person back from the dead. You've changed many other people's lives forever, and nothing can undo that damage. Their family has a right to ask you for an apology whenever they feel ready to do so. And if you truly feel remorse, rather than just embarassment at being caught, you shouldn't be getting angry at them for doing so. And my experience has been that people are willing to move on from the past once it has been well and truly acknowledged, and especially once you've made it clear what you have done or are doing to make amends. Not only will the apology help them heal, it will also help you heal.
All of this, in a more mature generation, used to be what "apologizing" meant. At least, that's what my mother taught me when I was a kid. She would never let us just petulantly say "sorry" and demand the the other person immediately move on; the matter wasn't resolved until you agreed with the injured party about how to make things better in the future. And I'm grateful for that. It took a while for the lesson to sink in, but it has served me well so far in life.