I am one of Penn State's 680,000 graduates. I have been thinking a lot about the series of tragic events that have come out recently regarding the sexual abuse scandal that has profoundly impacted many young boys and their families. It has made me sad and sick to my stomach. It has made me look deeply inward.
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Bill Proudman, co-founder of White Men as Full Diversity Partners
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Over the last few months, I have read as much as I can about the events. Even with that, I do not profess to know exactly what happened. I try not to pass judgment on those who could have intervened. I do know that the transgressions allegedly committed by Jerry Sandusky continue to weigh heavily on me. It has mostly made me reflect deeply about how I have and have not intervened with other men when intervening was what was needed.
I imagine it will take a while for the full story to emerge. What has struck me is that this whole sequence of events has involved men - actually white men. My group. Men who have built quite an empire and who I, and others, have put on pedestals. I have long admired "JoePa" and what he built at Penn State. I always thought his behavior and program were better than what I have seen in other coaches and schools in college football. Better than a sole focus on doing whatever it takes to win.
A recent Sports Illustrated issue covering the Penn State scandal had a line of pictures showing all the main players in the scandal. I was struck that all were white men but two, Pennsylvania Attorney General Linda Kelly, a white women, and Merck CEO Kenneth Frazier, an African American man. Both are involved with investigating the scandal, Kelly from the law enforcement side and Frazier as the trustee appointed to lead an internal investigation for the University. These pictures have got me thinking even further about my role as a white man intervening with other white men.
What prompted a middle-aged man to think "horsing around with 10-year-olds in the shower" is what jocks do? Why, apparently, did no one speak up, intervene or stop his madness? Why is this just coming out now, some 10 years later? Why were all these men silent for so long?
I feel I have witnessed a catastrophic failure - of a legendary program, a University I love and admire and, most importantly, of these white men in positions of prominence, influence and power. I keep asking myself: Would I have acted differently in a similar position? Where in my life have I been silent? What changes do I need to make in my own behavior and ways of interacting with other white men? When do I look the other way? What am I fearful of? And why?
I know in some small ways I continue to collude with other white men when I don't speak up. I sometimes hesitate to do the right thing, to speak up, to intervene, to break the silence. Certainly not all the time, but on occasion. These incidents at Penn State have motivated me to examine the line between when I intervene and when I don't, and why.
I'm reaching out to other white men who have made a commitment to lead from the head and the heart, and to challenge and support other men. As I continue to process these events and the role of white men, I'd like to hear from you. How has the Penn State tragedy impacted you? As a man, have you ever felt that speaking up was challenging and hard? Have you witnessed yourself or others courageously intervening within a culture of silence? What was the impact? I need other men to travel the path with me and break our silence especially with each other. I'd like to hear your thoughts, insights and questions. I can be reached at proudman@wmfdp.com
This is the first of a series of posts from Bill on the Penn State tragedy and the role of white men intervening with other white men.
