rape [rayp] (n): defilement; forced sexual assault

I am a generally open-minded person. Even though I can get mad, I forgive in a heartbeat and am often apologetic for it afterwards. There are very few things in this world that fill me with absolute, blind rage - few enough that I could probably count them all on one hand.

One of these things is the action of and facilitation of rape.

Rape is a strange concept for me, because I'm unusually sensitive about it. Perhaps it's because I consider the act of sex to be one of the most sacred things in the world - the thought that this gift could be forcefully torn from someone is horrifying to me. It is even more frightening to me as a woman, because I know it would be unlikely that I could fight a man off if the desire struck him. When talking about rape, I often have to either remove myself from the conversation, or say nothing at all - especially when dealing with people who sympathize with the offenders and those who knew that it had happened and said nothing. The wave of disgust and fury that grips me renders me unable to speak with anything less than anger.  I feel a familiar heat in my chest, a pricking in my eyes, and I have to turn away. I could go on about my opinions on the many problems our society has dealing with rape, but I want to focus on a certain current event no doubt forefront in many minds.

In the wake of the Penn State scandal, many people are up in arms in defense of Joe Paterno; many of the statements I've heard and read today have been along the lines of:

"He fulfilled his legal requirement!"

"It wasn't his fault!"

"He's not a rapist!"

At Penn State University, a responsible adult male saw a child - a child - being put through one of the most terrible tortures any person could endure. Other responsible, adult males learned of this, and made the choice to let it go on. To say Paterno "fulfilled" his legal requirement is to use the loosest definition of the term. He told one supervisor, the supervisor made no action, and Paterno stopped there.

In a final statement last Wednesday, Paterno admitted, "I wish I had done more."

I'm sorry, but that's just not good enough for me. What's funny to me is the deification of famous football teams and all involved with them. By some logic that remains beyond my comprehension, there seems to be some sort of positive correlation between being a sports icon and being beyond reprehension. What disturbed me the most are the people hailing Paterno as a "tragic hero." I put that in quotations because I see it as a gross mockery of the title. What's tragic here are the years of suffering by the victims of Jerry Sandusky. What's tragic here is the inaction of not just one man, but many; those who stood by and let evil continue for the sake of their safety. To call Joe Paterno a "tragic hero" is to victimize a sinner and take attention away from the real issue:

A ten-year-old boy was raped. Someone, with their own eyes, saw it happen. Entered a locker room, and walked right out again. I can't help but wonder, did this boy hear a door open? Footsteps? A rush of relief that he would be saved, only to hear that same door close on him again. In the face of a child's suffering, adults hailed as role models and icons were silent. A pedophile was allowed to walk free among them.

I am beyond asking questions. I am angry. I am anguished. I am absolutely sickened.