Academic support center puts values into action to help student-athletes at Penn State

Story posted October 22, 2012 in News by Brittany Horn

Take the elevator to the third floor of the Bank of America Career Services Center at 100 Eisenhower Road, and you’ll find nine academic advisers, one sports psychologist, two learning specialists and six support-staff members.

These are the people who provide academic guidance to the student-athletes in Penn State’s 31 men’s and women’s varsity sports.

Students wander in and out of the hallway in Penn State sweatsuits and blue and white backpacks. As the afternoon light spills from the offices of academic advisers, talk of grades and term papers filters into the hallway.

Plush navy and gray couches beckon outside each office, offering a sanctuary from the grueling practices of a Division I athlete. A copy of The Penn Stater, the university alumni magazine, lies open on a coffee table, a portrait of head football coach Bill O’Brien staring back.

All this seems tranquil on the surface, but the staff members of the Morgan Academic Support Center for Student Athletes had their world shattered nearly a year ago.

Today, they continue to feel the reverberations.

And they sting.

In the wake of NCAA sanctions imposed after the Jerry Sandusky scandal that broke with his indictment last Nov. 4, the staff is striving to decipher what NCAA president Mark Emmert called “an erosion of academic values” at Penn State.

“Football,” Emmert said when he announced the sanctions on July 23, “will never again be placed ahead of educating, nurturing and protecting young people.”

The words struck the hearts of the Morgan Center staff.

Despite the sanctions and Emmert’s grim perception of Penn State’s culture, the staff continues to take pride that:

  • Penn State student-athletes earned an 88 percent six-year graduation rate in the 2011-2012 school year, 8 percentage points higher than the national Division I average, according to the NCAA.
  • Penn State has been home to 175 Academic All-Americans. Only Nebraska, Notre Dame and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology have more Academic All-Americans.
  •  In the spring 2012 semester, 391 Penn State student-athletes—58 percent of its active competitors in all sports—earned a GPA of 3.0 or higher.

R. Scott Kretchmar is professor of exercise and sport science at Penn State and inaugural chair of the NCAA Scholarly Colloquium on College Sports. He notes that Penn State historically has set academic rules for its student-athletes that are higher than the NCAA’s own eligibility requirements.

He says the university has never violated an NCAA academic regulation.

“The NCAA has other fish to fry,” he said. “The wrongdoing is at the schools that leave students with a lack of education.”

The unsung heroes
 

You won’t find a gilded portrait of Milt and Lois Morgan hanging in the entryway to the center that bears their names, nor will you find a gold plaque paying tribute to their generosity.

Lois Morgan, and her late husband, Milt, a 1954 Penn State graduate, founded the center in 2002 because they wanted to do something for the 97 percent of college athletes who would not play professionally after college. They wanted those athletes to have a well-rounded education.

When Milt and Joe Paterno met during a fundraising dinner for the Paterno Library in 1993, they bonded over their shared hopes and dreams for Penn State athletes. In essence, Paterno became the public face of an educational mission and Morgan was the private face.

Dave Yukelson first met the Morgans through his position as sports psychologist in the athletic department 25 years ago. His job is to help the student-athletes deal with both the everyday problems and adjustments of college, as well as to enhance their ability to perform on the playing field.

Yukelson’s office is a frequent stop for student-athletes, where they engage in confidence-building and team-building exercises, as well as “just talking it out.”

His office was a stop that the Morgans didn’t miss when they were in town, either.

Yukelson smiled as he recalled the conversations he and Milt shared about life and baseball. Although he never competed at Penn State, Milt never passed up a chance to share his passion for the playing field. Milt coached and umpired in his hometown of Lancaster for more than 25 years, passing along his love for sports to his four children.

Milt used his Penn State business degree to run the J. Walter Miller Co., a manufacturer of bronze and brass castings that was founded by his grandfather in 1887.

As an undergraduate, Milt was a member of the Lambda Chi Alpha fraternity and a singer in the Glee Club. He would go on to become a member of the First Presbyterian Church in Lancaster, where he was known for his tenor voice and his devotion to the church.

“They are so humble, the most organic people,” Yukelson said. “They didn’t want credit. They were happy knowing the kids are doing it the right way.”

The Morgans set the gold standard for donors who have helped Penn State athletes excel in the classroom, said Ken Cutler, Penn State’s director of development in athletics. Cutler first met the Morgans after their contribution to the construction of the Bryce Jordan Center — the Morgans were huge basketball fans, he said — and through their donation, among many others, it was clear they were supporters of the overall athletic program.

Milt Morgan saw the value of a college education, Cutler said. “It wasn’t about winning or losing on the field. He had enormous pride in our student-athletes.”

The couple wanted to make a donation that could bring about “good” at Penn State, Lois Morgan, 80, said.

They envisioned a spacious, welcoming, academic-nurturing home to help the students build skills that would benefit them long after their athletic careers were over.

Back then, the athletes’ tutoring center was in the cramped Boucke Building, which also houses classrooms and other offices.

The Morgans wrote what Lois described as a seven figure check, and the Morgan Academic Support Center for Student Athletes was born. It now occupies the entire the football field.”

In the Paterno era, players often were tutored by the coach’s wife, Sue, at the kitchen table in their home. That practice began shortly after the Paternos married, when the son of an assistant coach needed help with classwork.

Sue Paterno said tutoring extended to high school players while they were being recruited. She recalled the recruiting in 1982 of Bob White, a future Penn State defensive lineman. When White came to campus to watch a Saturday practice, she took him to the library and reviewed notes with him. She said, “Joe kept calling, asking ‘Are you done yet?’ I don’t think Bobby ever did get to watch a Saturday practice.”

On top of running a household—and caring for the man that would be the head coach of Penn State football for 46 years—Sue found herself sharing candy and literature notes with young men vying for playing time in Beaver Stadium. NCAA rules dealing with academic integrity would eventually mandate that she move her study location to Joe’s office or a small room in the East Locker Room.

“People used to ask me why I tutored the players, and there are two reasons,” she said. “One, because we recruited them and we have an obligation to make sure they get an education. The other is that if they come and don’t do well, we lose that generation and the next.”

Eyes of a nation on Penn State
 

Coach Paterno is responsible for what came to be known as “The Grand Experiment,” the idea of creating great, well-rounded men on the gridiron, rather than athletes who come to a university only to play a sport. His idea of “Success with Honor” was the foundation of the Penn State Athletic Department for years—until the Sandusky scandal and the attendant national publicity raised questions by some about Paterno’s motives.

News of the grand jury presentment, indicting former assistant football coach Sandusky on 40 counts of sexual abuse, broke Nov. 4, 2011, a bye weekend for the Penn State football team.

In the weeks that followed, Penn State’s administration saw drastic changes—the resignation of President Graham Spanier and the firing of Paterno. For months, the eyes of the nation focused on Penn State.

Now, almost a year later, Sandusky has been convicted of 45 counts of sexual abuse and sentenced to 30 to 60 years in prison. Two former Penn State administrators await trial for perjury charges scheduled to begin in January. Penn State is working to make changes recommended in its university-commissioned report by former FBI director Louis Freeh, which said the culture of Penn State needed to change.

And the university and its athletic department continue to ponder how to move forward under the weight of the NCAA’s imposed sanctions: a $60 million fine, four years of reduced scholarships and a ban on postseason bowls, five years of probation and the vacating of Penn State football victories since 1998.

While many continue to debate Paterno’s responsibility, especially in light of Freeh’s report—which said Paterno had a “moral obligation” to do more to stop Sandusky—the graduation and success rates of Penn State’s football team long have been, and continue to be, at or near the top of the charts nationally.

The annual report issued in December by the New America Foundation’s Higher Ed Watch named Penn State No. 1 in the Academic Bowl Championship series after the 2011 regular season.

The report came less than one month after Paterno’s firing on Nov. 9 and noted that Penn State graduated football players within six years at an 80 percent success rate, the highest of the 70 teams that earned berths in bowl games that season. The report also showed that Penn State was a school that showed no gap in academic achievement between its black and white players.

These are the numbers that leave Penn State administrators at a loss for words when it comes to the NCAA sanctions—Sue Sherburne included.

“I wouldn’t work here if I didn’t believe in the culture,” Sherburne said. “I don’t know how to start fixing [the culture] when it’s not true. Our numbers are higher—you can’t fabricate that.”

No fighting chance
 

Cancer, like many diseases, pays no attention to the people it consumes, catching both Milt Morgan and Joe Paterno in 2011, too late in the game to give either a fighting chance.

When Milt was diagnosed with stomach cancer on Sept. 19, 2011, it was a quick downward cycle, Lois Morgan said.

He didn’t show outward symptoms, and what started as a single spot on his liver changed to four spots in less than two weeks. The couple attended football games in the 2011 season, but they missed the Nebraska game because

Milt’s illness had taken too much out of him.

The news surrounding Penn State didn’t help either, Lois said. As the accusations continued to fly, Milt could barely watch the news on television.

“We asked the doctor what there was to do,” Lois said. “He told us to go have fun. But we had already done that.”

To those close to the family, the answer was hard to accept. Ken Cutler was no exception.

Leaning back in his chair, the middle-aged man with graying hair gripped the bridge of his nose and remembered his last visit with Milt.

“You’ll have to excuse me for getting emotional,” he said, through a choked voice, his eyes

welling with tears. “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, both personally and professionally.”

Cutler made the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Lancaster to see Milt on Nov. 17, eight days after the firing of Paterno and one day before the legendary coach was diagnosed with lung cancer.

He knew as he said his goodbye that it would be his last.

“A lot of tears were shed that day, from both sides,” he said. “I’ve never had to do that before, say goodbye to someone and know that was it.”

Through the years, the Paternos and the Morgans, similar in age, had become friends. Both lived within a few blocks of each other at their summer homes in Avalon, N.J. Lois smiled, remembering Joe and Sue Paterno making the slow trek up the beach one morning.

“They were normal, I guess you could say,” she said. “He cared about people, which makes this all so hard to understand.”

In the months after Milt’s death, Lois sold their house in State College. She realized the the modest home tucked into a State College neighborhood, not far from Beaver Stadium, wasn’t needed anymore. She wouldn’t be making the drive alone.

But losing a loved one isn’t as simple as selling a house—it’s why Sue Paterno never moved.

As she sat at the large, round table, complete with a lazy susan in the center, dusk’s light fell across the Paterno kitchen on a late September evening.

Dressed in light slacks and a dark blue sweater over her white polo, Sue Paterno had been up since 4 a.m. for physical therapy to soothe her aching back. She sat upright with her arms folded, the chill of the State College air still fresh on her skin.

She moved her hands as she talked, occasionally covering her eyes or mouth as she remembered a story about a grandchild or former football player. At times, she stared into space, transported into another memory she wasn’t ready to share.

Much as they had on Lois Morgan, the events of the past year had left their mark on the 72-year-old Sue Paterno.

After sharing the deterioration and death of her husband with the Penn State community, as well as watching the Paterno and Penn State names blemished around the country, she said it was hard for her to feel that she had any privacy left.

Joe lost his battle with lung cancer Jan. 22 at age 85, just six weeks after Milt lost his battle with stomach cancer at age 79.

Thousands of friends, family and Paterno supporters flocked to State College for a memorial service to pay their respects, while the death of Milt went largely unnoticed in the Penn State community.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Sue said, pulling back into her chair, her eyes welling with tears. “We were supposed to go to football games and sit and enjoy them.”

She rubbed her arms as the sky darkened outside the window, recalling the quick turn of events in November.

After a slight pause, she looked up, her eyes filled with tears and her voice hoarse.

“It’s killing me,” she said, quietly. “It’s like he died three times.” She was deeply offended that the statue of her husband was taken down exactly six months from the date of his death. “How,” she asked, “could they have been so cruel?”

University President Rodney Erickson, in a statement issued that morning, said the statue was a “lightning rod of controversy and national debate.” He added that the findings of the Freeh report “has given us a great deal to reflect upon and to consider, including Coach Paterno’s legacy.”

The Paterno statue, which was commissioned by friends of the Paternos to honor all that the coach did for the university, was removed from outside Beaver Stadium on July 22, the day before the NCAA sanctions against Penn State were announced.

Sue said the university gave her no notice that the statue would be removed.

She went on to say there are good days and bad days for her and her children. On the bad days, they tend to congregate in the Paterno household, talking, crying and remembering the husband and father they loved.

The worst part is coming home, Sue said, remembering the first night she made the drive by herself.

“I got in the car and I said to myself ‘Well, this is my life now,’ ” she said. “I’m someone who goes home to an empty house.”

When talking about donors and friends like the Morgans, Sue brightens, off on another story of the next dinner she’s planning on hosting for the Special Olympics or College of the Liberal Arts.

Her passion for Penn State has not wavered.

She said creating the Morgan Center was “the greatest thing the Morgans could have done,” adding: “It’s people like that that made the university what it is, what makes it special.”

The Goal: Move Forward
 

Walking through the Morgan Center on a weekday afternoon, you might catch a glimpse of a basketball player checking in with her adviser or a possible track recruit double-checking eligibility requirements with his parents.

Despite all that has happened in the past year, students are ready to move forward, sporting the new “ONETEAM” shirts around campus.

“We had students coming to us, asking what can we do to help,” adviser Sherburne said. “There’s a unity that you can’t change.”

Both Sue Paterno and Lois Morgan continue to support the university, Sue from her home just blocks away from campus and Lois through occasional trips to sporting events. The two women share grief but continue to cope in their own ways.

The Paterno family has said it plans to help the truth come out—not for the Paterno name, Sue said, but for the good of the university.

“I just wish Joe was here,” she said. “He would have set some heads straight.”

The challenge continues, however, for Penn State to show the NCAA that it is addressing “an erosion of academic values,” when many struggle to see what that change should be.

From Yukelson’s Morgan Center window, Mount Nittany rises in the distance, colorful and green in the still warm fall air. Signed posters from Penn State wrestling coach Cael Sanderson and former athletes line his walls.

As a sports psychologist, Yukelson said he is supposed to understand culture. It is his job to make sure the student-athletes at Penn State are in a healthy environment, one conducive to quality education and athleticism.

He doesn’t skimp on words when it comes to the sanctions or the happenings of the past year. He gestures, points and waves his hands in support of the university, where he’s worked for 25 years.

When it comes to culture, he’ll tell you the NCAA got it wrong.

“Our culture is good—I like to call it the culture of excellence,” he said. “That’s what’s real.”

For Shane McGregor, who’s maintained a 3.85 GPA throughout his college career, there’s not much more he can do than keep going.

“I can’t control what the NCAA or anybody else really does, but I can control what I do,” he said. “If I can go to class, I’m going to go to class and work harder than I ever have before. If I’m going to practice, I’m going to practice harder than I ever have before. If I’m going to study, I’m going to study harder than I ever have before, because that’s what I can control.”