To be honest, I am so accustomed to people wholeheartedly buying into the mythology that until last weekend I stopped noticing the pictures in store windows and the bins of bendable JoePa dolls and the JoePa coffee mugs and the endless tchotchkes that drive the economy of this place. I believed, and continue to believe, that people are more than cardboard, and because of that, I do not believe Paterno deserves our sympathy right now, and, in fact, I walked around State College this weekend supremely pissed off that he did not live up to the standards he'd like us to believe he set for himself. I do believe that we should allow time for more facts to emerge, but I don't believe, at this point, that he deserved a proper farewell, and I was not alone in that sentiment. And yet when I saw those televised shots of his house on McKee Street, something caught in my throat, a conditioned response to a man I've been raised to believe was the moral arbiter of our community.
That's what I think is happening here: It's not that we are condoning child rape, and it's not that we don't recognize our obligation to the victims above all else. It's that we are condemning all that Jerry Sandusky is accused of and trying to make it right while also dealing with this involuntary response to the death throes of a way of life.
"You have to live in the middle of this contradiction," a Penn State sociology professor, Sam Richards, told a class that Lori Shontz of the Penn Stater magazine sat in on. "You have to live in this zone where both [situations] can be true, and it's very, very, very difficult. But part of becoming a thinker is to sit with two contradictory thoughts in your head and see them both as being true. And not go crazy. And not immediately try to resolve them. And so we're offering that to you. Sit with that. Because this is big. That's big."