I’m having a hard time with something.

I am just a consumer of this Penn State story and I’m not much of a college football fan. But over the past few months, I’ve come to understand how big a deal Joe Paterno was to the Penn Staters I know and those around the country.

Now that he’s gone, lots of tweets and FB statues are stacking up about Paterno and I’m just … uncomfortable. I don’t think it’s necessarily that people still have kindness in their hearts for the man. I’m not happy another human being is dead or anything. Plus, these messages are coming from friends whom I love and respect. They’re smart and have good, kind hearts.

AND! I believe we all have an incredible capacity for forgiveness. Should one mistake overshadow an entire life of, I don’t know, being a leader in a small town and a mentor to countless young athletes and winning a bunch of trophies? No, it shouldn’t …

… unless the “mistake” involves the rape of a child. This is where I keep getting tripped up because it’s just too big. This was about a kid. And that changes everything. I think what I’m struggling most with is, what’s the line? Where’s the line? What do you mean we don’t we all have the same line?! Can I be surprised at my friends for speaking so gently about what a great man Paterno was—and never, ever once saying how disappointed they were that children got hurt because Paterno didn’t do enough? How hard it was to see someone they perceived as a “hero” make such a bad mistake? No one’s said that yet, at least, no one I know. Does it need to be said? Did they all just agree that this error in judgment is just not that big a deal in comparison to what the man did over the course of a lifetime?

Life is not that simple, I know. But this feels … obvious.

I mean, Joe Paterno said he should have done more. He said it.

From his interview in The Washington Post:

I didn’t know exactly how to handle it and I was afraid to do something that might jeopardize what the university procedure was,” he said. “So I backed away and turned it over to some other people, people I thought would have a little more expertise than I did. It didn’t work out that way.

I’m not in favor of beating this man’s memory into the ground for what happened. How/if he chose to atone for what he did was his deal, not mine or anyone else’s.

But that part of the conversation cannot just be swept under the rug because he was a really good football coach and maybe even an inspiring person in all other avenues of his life. He put his own fear and discomfort over the welfare of an abused child. He backed away. That feels unforgivable to me. And in my most obstinate state, I just can’t believe we’re not all on the same page about this. Nobody who is angry about it from a purely moral standpoint is being unreasonable. No legacy is big enough or great enough to outweigh his silence. Because this is a KID we’re talking about.

I know we’re not all the same. I love my friends and obviously we all have a right to our opinions—but oh god, it’s so hard sometimes to be an adult and accept that. And I know part of being a rational adult IS accepting that.

I don’t know how anyone can justify this away. I want to know. I want to understand. Maybe eventually, I’ll have the courage to ask. Then again, I know I won’t ask until I can trust myself to not be disappointed in the response I might get. And I don’t know if that day will come.