I'm writing this to make a point that I feel can't ever become redundant. I seem to keep having to argue a very necessary objective regarding the PSU/Paterno scandal and the NCAA sanctions. I suppose I'll keep reiterating as often as possible until people who don't get it, do.
I feel as if I'm recovering from a hangover. I'm waking up wondering, "What just happened? Is my memory serving me correctly?" I'm a Penn State graduate who, like others in the school's community, is left wondering whether this hell we've experienced is real life.
Amid the outpouring of emotion that's followed has been this message that Paterno was not a god and just a human being who made some mistakes. The tributes have largely focused on the good that Paterno did in his life.
One of the risk factors for becoming a sexual abuser of children is having been victimized yourself. One of my concerns as a clinical psychologist is that our sticking our heads in the sand can perpetuate this cycle.
Universities may be large scale, complex institutions with many employees and many demands, but that doesn't excuse school officials from exercising their legal and moral obligations when problems arise.
Joe Paterno's form of heroism is driven by his status of being the favorite son. In that role he learns that the key to success is to please others. This stands in sharp contrast to Steve Jobs' form of heroism that is based on being unfavored.
The Penn State scandal has led some to reconsider how we view college football powerhouses. Here's a roundup of how sports columnists this weekend have responded, urging people to see their college football gods in a different light.
The Penn State tragedy is a powerful reminder that child molesters can count not only on the silence of their victims, but on the the inaction of adults -- and not just those in positions of authority.
"If I knew then what I know now" doesn't count for Paterno or Penn State. There is no excuse. There is no apology. Just tell the truth. The truth is what we all want and they should all spend the rest of their lives working on behalf of the victims and their recovery.
I stepped out of the car for 30 seconds, just long enough for our 4-year-old daughter to hear the beginning of NPR's report from Penn State University, where for five days the horrific details of a child-sex-abuse scandal and cover-up have been brought to light.
Like the rich, successful actors who play the broken-down Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman, our sports performers act as our avatars and our archetypes, on and off the court, field and ice. Truth sometimes flows through them and sometimes it is a hard truth worth learning.