Sandusky and the Seismic Sell-Out

The archetypical journey of the hero, popularized by the late mythologist Joseph Campbell, concerns an individual who at first resists a call to adventure.

Finally circumstances, mentors, peers or sheer convictions push him or her into accepting the call. They often face trials, loss, certain death and the stripping away of nearly all that is dear to them—in order to secure a prize that will benefit not just them but society. Upon completing their mission they never rest on the laurels of their achievement, but return to serve humanity well.

We westerners love such heroes. We see them in pop culture, with Harry Potter and  Luke Skywalker. In literature, they are Elizabeth Bennett and Tom Sawyer. In history, we’ve observed them in Jesus, Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr., and even in Anne Frank. Time after time, we are captivated by stories and folk tales of heroes who put everything on the line for the sake of something larger than themselves.

The unfolding  tragedy known as Jerry Sandusky and Penn State is the complete antithesis of the hero’s journey. The allegations represent answering a call to dark impulses, to bringing shame upon society rather than hope or perseverance. We might never know who or what first  implanted such impulses within Sandusky or others who allegedly commit such heinous acts; perhaps he is simply the latest symbol of a vicious cycle of harm that has permeated generation after generation.

But the larger dynamic here embeds not just the sexual abuse that has happened to children whom our culture has failed to protect. It’s also characterized by other frameworks of abuse promulgated by members of generations who should know better, but choose to act in their own interests.

There has been fiscal abuse of immense proportions, resulting in greatly diminished employment and wealth-building prospects for younger persons, saddling them with massive debt. There has been the abuse of the spotlight, committed by clay-footed role models in politics, business, sports, religion and other arenas. Within nearly every field of significant influence across America, those in power have sown cynicism, disappointment, hopelessness—and abuse. It has been a seismic sell-out of the younger by the older that has shaken the foundations of the United States to its core. We are close to the point of no return.

I believe there is one root cause layered deep within this dynamic of abusive  behavior, and it is pure, simple greed—followed closely by its first cousin, fear. Penn State officials cared more about their program’s reputation and financial stability than the welfare of young boys. That’s greed. There’s no equivocation, justification or validation. They feared losing more than they loved these children.

But don’t just blame Sandusky and Penn State. The alleged victims themselves might have already been placed in harm’s way by a family or neighborhood that was too busy or ill-equipped to care for them in the first place. Where were the mothers or fathers who should have been micromanaging which adults were hanging around with their sons? Where were the guardians? You’d damn better believe that I know as much as possible about the adults with whom I entrust my kids’ safety. My kids aren’t inconveniences or financial burdens, or tasks to be checked off of a list; they are flesh and blood, and I love them and would die for them in a heartbeat rather than let anyone harm them.

 I would die for my wife as well; in fact, there are plenty of other children and adults I can think of for whom I would die. The greatest journey in life is giving ourselves for the benefit of another. Hopefully few of us will ever be called to make a choice as drastic as sacrificing our lives. But the day-to-day adventure is cultivating character so that we are ready to take the risk, putting all that is temporal on the line, for the sake of something greater. The character test was thrust upon Penn State, and it failed miserably.  

It has been said that it takes a village to raise a child. I will go a step beyond that, and declare that it takes a village to die for a child. As adults we have a responsibility to be willing to put the needs of younger persons first. That means protecting them from physical and emotional harm, first and foremost. It also means making decisions that show we care about what happens 20 years down the road with the financial institutions, schools and environment. It means pushing past our greed, looking into our hearts and finding something good to offer.

Ironically, Penn State did so many things right. Graduation rates. Avoiding NCAA infractions. Giving to charities. Tragically, in one key area greed and fear were allowed to rule the day, exposing a larger failure of not loving the younger generations as ourselves.

From the shame of State College shines a spotlight on our collective lack of heroism. We have let down our neighbors. We have caused younger ones to stumble. Our response must be ashes, sorrow, repentance, new thinking and new behaviors. This is not just an event, but the wakeup call of wake up calls.

First steps?

In  your mind, catalog the influence you have right now over a younger person or groups of persons. What else can you do to ensure their safety, build their character, teach them skills, protect their natural resources, create future jobs for them? Picture their faces. Do you love your material possessions and net worth more than the glimmer of hope that has not yet fully faded from their eyes? Take in their frailty and innocence. They have so little power right now, and are so naïve and undeveloped in so many ways. They don’t know what they don’t know. Can you let your heart break for them, to the extent that you will share some abundance and leave a legacy of heroism?

It’s time that we collectively think and act differently across the board, so that we might transition from selling out younger persons on so many fronts, to planting the DNA of compassion within their hearts and minds. Then, they can pass it on to the generations that follow them. And so forth, as the journey continues.