By Cassandra Modica
Hidden behind an aged wooden door on the first floor of the historic Sutherland Building that hundreds of students pass indifferently every day is a spacious office with a wooden desk, tall shelves, and an assortment of academic texts and necessities on each. The space shows evidence of years of scholarly evolution, and a student or faculty member may certainly feel at least a bit hesitant approaching it. Like much else in academia, it has the capacity to intimidate. But its occupant, Chancellor Karen Wiley Sandler, never fails to offer an infectious smile as she warmly welcome those who come by, and on a fall day in her last semester on the job before retiring, she welcomed me in for a conversation about the depths of her reverence for Penn State.
Hidden behind an aged wooden door on the first floor of the historic Sutherland Building that hundreds of students pass indifferently every day is a spacious office with a wooden desk, tall shelves, and an assortment of academic texts and necessities on each. The space shows evidence of years of scholarly evolution, and a student or faculty member may certainly feel at least a bit hesitant approaching it. Like much else in academia, it has the capacity to intimidate. But its occupant, Chancellor Karen Wiley Sandler, never fails to offer an infectious smile as she warmly welcome those who come by, and on a fall day in her last semester on the job before retiring, she welcomed me in for a conversation about the depths of her reverence for Penn State.