What are we willing to do to protect those who are innocent and vulnerable? What are we willing to do to expose practices that disregard the dignity of others?
I agonized over what I felt about the Child Victims Act. Why wouldn't I, a teacher and mother of three, not leap to support legislation (against which the Roman Catholic Church in New York is currently lobbying hard) that protects the victims of child abuse? Because I did have reservations.
In a world where public and private organizations are held accountable for their decisions, boards must take their responsibilities seriously.
Spanier's name may always tarnish my educational pride and joy, but may it be a reminder to all Penn State graduates that his lack of action only enables us to do something infinitely more positive, palpable, and life-changing for those who suffered.
For the BSA to refuse to take a stand against anti-gay bullying of scouts and instead insinuate that banning gay people from serving as leaders will protect boys from being molested is ridiculous. To equate gay people with child molesters is scientifically and culturally inaccurate.
How the American justice system copes with cases like this should be of interest to all Americans. But those who are interested should not have to go on a scavenger hunt among the box scores to find it.
When I think of Penn State, I think of how the students' pride in their institution, in their leaders, could have increased enormously had the administration done the right thing. And I wonder how much they could have learned had the university only acted responsibly.
From a distance this case seems like a slam-dunk for the prosecution. There are ten different alleged victims. There's an independent witness, football assistant Mike McQueary.
Nike co-founder and chairman Phil Knight told a crowd of several thousand at the Bryce Jordan Center in late January that Joe Paterno suffered for his actions. No, sir, it was for his inactions.
Many have thrown harsh criticism at Paterno for not acting right away. While a heroic, Superman response would've been ideal, it's just that -- a fantasy.
Child abuse being so heinous a crime, and so legitimate a cue for outrage, Paterno's story showed the impact of the interactivity that media outlets value so highly in today's Neo-Tabloid Age.
Such is the duality of Paterno's legacy. Media and fans paint pictures in broad strokes of black and white, but Paterno's picture is colored in inscrutable shades of grey.
On ABC's World News with Diane Sawyer, reporter Dan Harris called Paterno "the mythic embodiment of success with honor." What honor?
The conversation that serves to best commemorate the horrible turn of events at Penn State should be, "How are the alleged victims of Sandusky and the Penn State football culture handling this?"
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.
There is a greater lesson to be learned by this man's life and from any hero who falls. The lesson is this: You cannot delegate influence. You cannot defer your story to another. It is yours and yours alone.