Lee Cary is a current Penn State freshman, and he wrote for the Spectator last year.

The child sex abuse scandal against former Penn State University defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky has not only rocked the Penn State community, but also communities across the country.  The scandal, which allegedly began in 1994, has led to the dismissal of Penn State president Graham Spanier and legendary football coach Joe Paterno, who was in charge of the Nittany Lions football team for 46 years.

When I decided to attend Penn State in late April of my senior year, no one could’ve predicted what would take place seven months later.  I never thought that I would see the university’s virtually spotless record of 156 years torn down, tarnished and marred in the span of less than a week by a few deplorable people.

Shortly after news of the scandal broke Nov. 5, people immediately began to ask questions and demand answers. Sandusky is charged with 40 counts of child sex abuse. Paterno came under fire for his role in the scandal — he legally fulfilled his obligations by reporting the incident to his supervisor, Penn State’s athletic director at the time, Tim Curley, who is now on trial for perjury, but is accused of not morally doing all that he could.

During the afternoon of Nov. 9, Paterno announced he would retire at the end of the season.  Although the news of the 84-year old icon’s departure saddened me deeply, I was happy he would finish out coaching the season.

Around 10:00 p.m. that night, however, the Board of Trustees held a press conference to discuss Penn State’s future.  As reports started to trickle in about the firing of the man we affectionately refer to as “JoePa,” the other residents on my floor and I gathered into my RA’s room to watch.  A trustee said Spanier was dismissed, and then the words we had all feared came: “Joe Paterno is no longer the head football coach, effective immediately.”

The room fell silent.  One of my friends finally looked at me and said, “All I want to do is cry.”  We knew people would start gathering at Old Main, where the president’s office is, so as a floor, we went there to protest.

We gathered together because we wanted to show our displeasure with the entire week’s events.  The media bashed the university and challenged our academic achievement.  They called for Joe Paterno’s exit when he did not commit a crime and overlooked the real problem of Sandusky’s actions.  The president’s office was silent on the matter and released a statement supporting the two men, Curley and senior vice president of finance and business Gary Schultz, who are on trial for perjury.

A student with a megaphone led a chant: “We want Joe!”  But then the student directed everybody to Beaver Avenue, where the protest would lose its meaning.

A sign that this new protest wouldn’t reflect the Old Main protest occurred early on, when portions of the fence surrounding campus were pushed in to allow the masses to get to Beaver.  Once at Beaver, however, the protests weren’t initially violent.  The worst of it, at the time, was just chants criticizing the Board and Sandusky.

The riot, however, got out of hand because a few mindless people wanted to destroy property and make a larger statement.  The actions of the leaders directly involved in the scandal and belligerent students would shape the world’s image of our Penn State.

Police tried to clear the streets, and the crowd scattered.  People running pushed and shoved me and anyone else in front of them, so I found a car to hold myself up against because I knew I wouldn’t get pushed through the car.  I also grabbed my friend’s hand to pull her away from the masses and get her safely to the car.  If I hadn’t found the car, I would have faced the threat of being trampled by the seemingly endless amount of people.

People started pulling street lights down near me, and that was my cue to leave.  I knew it would get worse before it got better.  It was a struggle to battle through the sheer number of people there, but eventually I found my way out.

Once I left, a couple of students flipped a news van to emphasize their displeasure with the media’s coverage of the scandal.  The media wanted a name to pin the blame on and there is no bigger name at Penn State, or perhaps college football, than JoePa. The overturned van prompted the police to use pepper spray and mace to control the few rowdy students.  Although several innocent bystanders were hit, the methods worked, and the crowd dispersed.

Videos and pictures surfaced on Facebook and other major media outlets, and I was disappointed to see the destruction.  I feared people would see all of us at Penn State as mindless idiots, and that isn’t the case. Our reputation was challenged, and we knew the Penn State that everyone saw on TV wasn’t our Penn State.  The candlelight vigil that was planned before the riots helped show the real Penn State.

Our community was saddened and distraught by what the defenseless children were put through and held a vigil Nov. 11 in their honor. We wanted to show our respect for the victims, and we wanted to say sorry. The mood was somber as we heard victims of child abuse tell their horrific tales and struggles.  Thousands of us crowded the Old Main lawn to show support and to apologize.  Former Penn State and Washington Redskins linebacker LaVar Arrington gave a powerful speech to tell us that we have the power to change things and that the scandal is a call to duty.  The riots and the scandal shouldn’t reflect everything our university does and stands for.

At the football game against Nebraska Nov. 12, we changed the originally planned student section white-out to a blue-out to stand against child abuse.  We raised over $22,000 for the cause at the game alone.

No one really was sure what to expect for the game.  Some Facebook groups asked people to break tradition and to sit during the Alma Mater, and others asked for a five-minute “We Are” chant before the game.

The matchup was already hyped because of senior night and the #12 rank of the Nittany Lions and the #19 rank of the Cornhuskers.  There was a moment of silence during the pregame festivities to honor all the victims.  Cornhusker’s running back coach Ron Brown delivered a moving prayer in front of both teams kneeling at midfield.  At Beaver Stadium, the over 100,000 people, who can normally be heard on game day from any part of Penn State’s large campus, were completely silent.

Penn State did not emerge victorious, losing 17-14 in an emotional game, and I’ll always remember the feelings after.  Passing game coordinator Jay Paterno gave an emotional interview, saying that he missed his dad on the sidelines.  The crowd exited the stadium in a dejected and almost depressed mood with few words spoken.

The whole week has been tough and trying for me and many Penn State students, faculty and alumni.  I received texts from friends and family to see what the situation was like, but it’s hard for non-Penn Staters to understand how much the scandal has turned the university on its head.  Although a few students have discussed transferring, I believe that over the week, we have showed that we stand together, and we still are Penn State forever.