In Defense of Happy Valley

Even if you don’t know a thing about college football, you’ve most likely heard about the Penn State sex abuse scandal that has rocked Happy Valley. You’ve most likely seen the crying lion logo or perhaps the riot footage following the firing of Coach Joe Paterno. You may have even wondered why it’s Joe Paterno’s face and name on your computer or TV screen, when it is retired Defensive Coordinator Jerry Sandusky who has been accused of the atrocities committed against children.

It’s not hard to figure out why it’s Paterno’s face and name splattered everywhere. Jerry Sandusky’s name and face don’t sell newspapers or improve click rates. In fact, if you don’t follow college football, you probably didn’t have any idea who Jerry Sandusky was before the scandal broke. However, you had most likely heard of Joe Paterno. His face and name are iconic. So iconic in fact, that every Halloween in Happy Valley for as long as I can remember has been dotted with kids in Penn State windbreakers, a tie, and a Joe Paterno mask.

I’ve heard all of the words that have become clichés in Happy Valley. “This shouldn’t be about football, the Big Ten, or Joe Paterno.” Agreed. “What if it was your child?” I’d have gone bat-sh*t crazy, that’s what. “[Penn State] has forgotten about the victims.” I assure you Penn State has done no such thing. “This has become a media circus.” Well, of course it has, but the media didn’t turn over their own news vans in a riot.

The thing is that Happy Valley is quite simply heartbroken.

However, I’m not sure how clear it is to those who are not Nittany Lions that Happy Valley is heartbroken twice over.

First, no one has forgotten those children. We-and I will use “we” proudly because I am a Nittany Lion-are shocked, appalled, furious, and something so far beyond disgusted that something like this could happen at our school that there aren’t even words for it. We knew we weren’t immune to tragedy or scandal, and I don’t believe any of us to have been naïve enough to assume that cover-ups couldn’t happen at our large, state institution. But this? Because the crime is so heinous, it is so much harder to take. For those who think the crying Nittany Lion logo is about football, I will tell you unequivocally that you are wrong. One of “ours” sexually abused multiple children (allegedly), stealing their innocence and leaving emotional scars that will last a lifetime. The lion cries for the victims.

Second, we must acknowledge that we are dealing with the fall from grace of our heroes. While people who aren’t from the area, didn’t go to Penn State, or don’t follow college football may not have known who Jerry Sandusky was before the scandal, Nittany Lions certainly knew who he was. And I’ve already given you a glimpse of what Joe Paterno meant (and to many, still means), to Happy Valley and to Nittany Lions all over the world. No matter how you feel about his firing, or what you suspect his part in all of this might have been (I say “suspect” because I think we’re going to continue to get new information for a long time), you cannot deny how much “JoePa” meant to Penn State and the surrounding communities for the last five decades.

We are mourning for the victims and their lost innocence, but we are also mourning a loss of our own. And no, I’m not implying that these losses are equal, not by a long shot; but it’s like we got punched in the gut and then spat on to boot.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am from Happy Valley. I now live 6 hours away in Connecticut. I hadn’t used my social media pages in a few days, so I first heard the news during a phone conversation with my mom. Of course, as soon as I hung up, I jumped online to read up on what had been going on. However, it wasn’t long before the cruel jokes, misinformation, and even an image of a guy burning his Penn State diploma couldn’t be avoided.

So, at the end of that week my fiancé and I did what we could no longer avoid. We went back to Happy Valley for the weekend. We didn’t have game tickets or anything like that. We just wanted to be with other Nittany Lions. For me, that meant that I just wanted to go home.

My parents met at Penn State and never left the area. I was born in Centre Community Hospital (now Mount Nittany Medical Center), across the street from Beaver Stadium. I was born in the dead of winter, but five years later, my brother was born in the height of football season in the same hospital. The first thing he heard upon his arrival into this world was the roar of the Nittany Lions in “the house that Joe built”. It’s fitting. My father played Penn State football in the 70’s. He played for and knew Joe Paterno and Jerry Sandusky personally. My brother and I were born bleeding Blue and White.

I was about eight or nine years old when I first met Joe Paterno. My father had taken me to a Nittany Lions basketball game, and “JoePa” was there. Coach Paterno was walking up the aisle past us to his seat when my father said, “Hi coach.” Joe Paterno looked at my dad (who hadn’t played for him in years at that point), and said, “Miller, you’re still here?” Paterno remembered my father by name. He engaged in a moment of conversation with my dad, and went to his seat; but not before shaking my hand and asking my name. After all, I was the daughter of one of his players and tradition means the world at Penn State.

Penn State isn’t just my alma mater, it’s my home.

In the previously mentioned earlier post, I’d described Beaver Stadium as “rising into the night sky, shining almost like a beacon”. This time, as I drove around that bend of I-99, I almost expected the stadium not to be there anymore. I knew logically that it was going to be there and be just fine, but I somehow expected there to be a hole in the skyline to reflect the hole in our collective Nittany Lion heart.

No, I am not condoning rioting, the content of idiotic sound bites from the misinformed, or the burning of diplomas. There are better ways to express our emotions, like the candlelight vigil for the victims the Friday evening before game day, or the way numerous Penn State students went out of their way to welcome the Nebraska fans to our town, or the blue ribbons, or the pre-game prayers. What I want is to help those who are not Nittany Lions understand our point of view a little better: We are all heartbroken. We are all angry. We are all still Penn State.


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