Prospectus

To the Lionhearted of past, present and future generations: Greetings!

Twenty-five years ago today, the original Lionhearted was founded. This new publication is meant to be its successor in spirit if not in form. This "Prospectus" is meant to be read as a letter not only to future readers or future writers, but as a message from a future generation to a past one. It is a message to the founders, written from the place of its origin, commemorating the founding and celebrating its rebirth. For two decades, the original publication may have been dormant, but its founding vision was never lost, and will be realized by a new generation of the Lionhearted.

Today, the word "prospectus" has fallen from its old lofty connotation, to a bland name for a dull document. That is neither the purpose, nor what is meant by this Prospectus. The root of the word means "to look forward," but historically a "prospect" was often meant as a view looking down from a hill or mountain into a valley. Therefore, this Prospectus is a view from the summit of generations of tradition, eroded but still standing solid, looking deep into the vista of our Happy Valley. It is a vision.

There was a dream for Dear Old State, fleeting as a whisper in the wind. The New Lionhearted at its best is meant to be an echo of that whisper, a memory of that dream in the waking life of today.

What was the dream that called the sons and daughters of the Commonwealth to a humble little school? They left the fields and mines to pursue a “liberal and practical education.” But, what did this mean? Was it only the idea of affordable vocational instruction, with its potential of allowing them to escape their humble origins? Or, was there more? The “liberal education” was not meant in an ideological sense, but rather that of the classics and humanities, the long story of the march of the Occident out of barbarism. It was the study of “arête,” or excellence. In both practical and liberal education, our Alma Mater was meant to someday excel all others, without the snobbish exclusivity or decadent indolence into which the Ivy League declined. That was the fleeting vision of Dear Old State.

But, education is not simply the idle acquisition of knowledge. It was meant to be a verb, not a noun. Its root, the Latin “educere,” means “to lead out.” This means not solely to lead one out from the darkness of ignorance and the shadows of prejudice; but to lead out into the world the best of one's mind and nature. The mind is not an empty vessel to be filled, but a living thing that grows, blooms and ripens. Deep down inside, in a place where words cannot reach, those old farm boys, the first students, knew this. Professors and fellow students cultivated their minds, and the world harvested their brilliance. Generations later, we are still called not only to remember our roots, but to continue to cultivate and reap what the "founders, strong and great" had sown.

That verse, and every other of "The Alma Mater," means something. It is not simply a song about the place we called home during the best years of our youth; but an encomium to our dear old "nourishing mother" who helped mold us into the people we are today. As alumni and students, we are called to fight for her honor whenever it is threatened, even, especially, when it is attacked by the very people in charge of governing her. They may be in charge, but we are responsible. They may govern, but we care. They may demand, but we give. They may profit, but we sacrifice. They are not Penn State. We are.

Deception will be exposed. Corruption will be opposed. Reputations will be cleared where they have been unjustly smeared. Mark Twain said that a "lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes." Once the truth starts that race, however, it sprints to the finish with the unencumbered strength, courage and devotion of the messenger of Marathon; stopping only to deliver the news with one final breath.

In the spirit of the idea of a University, The New Lionhearted seeks to bring students, alumni, faculty and townspeople together, in a conversation that has spanned generations. Ideas will be debated. Opinions will be challenged. Our goal should not be to tell one another what to think, but to learn from one another how to think.

In no way will this conversation be easy, but it will be worthwhile. The old Lionhearted once had an entire issue confiscated and set on fire in the publisher’s lawn, by people who refused to tolerate dissenting ideas or the confrontation of controversy. The New Lionhearted will also never lack the courage to face controversy, to laugh at the absurdities of life, or to passionately pursue truth wherever it may lead. But, its purpose is not to provoke for the sake of provoking, nor to argue for argument’s sake. Rather, it is meant to set minds ablaze with an unquenchable desire for wisdom and truth. It is not meant to appeal to the lowest common denominator, but to seek the highest good.

The purpose of The New Lionhearted is not to have an idle conversation. It is a struggle for the life of the mind. It is a fight for the triumph of ideas over ideology, philosophy over propaganda, and reason over rhetoric.

To seek truth, because it deserves to be found;
To speak truth, because it deserves to be heard;
To fight for lost causes harder than any others;
To be not blinded by cynicism, but to dream with open eyes and minds about what can and should be;
And with unflinching courage, to remain true to these purposes through the best and worst;
That is the call of the loyal, the brave, the Lionhearted.