I hate Penn State. I've said that so many times, I wish I got paid for doing it. I have cursed almost all of my teachers at some point, sometimes under my breath while walking away from a disappointing conversation with one. Sometimes I've screamed it aloud to a roommate after getting an e-mail about a bad exam grade.

I usually feel this way after getting a bad grade or finding out that I didn't put page numbers on my paper and getting docked half a grade for it. I've done it after reading about another tuition hike or some deal made with an already too-big corporation.

I've hated Penn State a hundred times or so since I've been here. But I've loved it even more.

Every friend of mine has professed his or her undying hatred of this university at least ten times, for even more reasons.

"Penn State isn't about education, it's about business."

"Penn State doesn't care about any of the students here, especially me."

"Penn State only cares about how much money they get out of me."

"My adviser at Penn State sucks."

"This class is too hard. There is no reason for me to write a 15-page paper."

"I hate Penn State. Spanier is a capitalist pig."

"I got another parking ticket. How do they expect me to pay this?"

"I can't understand a word my teaching assistant says. Why doesn't Penn State hire better teachers?"

Yet with all the complaining I've heard from students, no one ever leaves. To me, hating something should be a strong enough emotion to take action against that which is hated. But hardly anyone who has ever claimed to hate this university has actually left. I have said it several times, with white-knuckled ire, and yet I am staying in State College after graduation. I just love it too much.

One of my roommates this year graduated Spring Semester of 2000. She stayed on another year, and begrudgingly left what she had learned to call home a few days ago. When graduated friends come for a weekend visit, they take me by the shoulders and shake me, begging that for my own sake, I should never leave.

A few days ago, I was confronted with a problem that is threatening my graduation yet again. And with helpless resignation I sighed to myself, "I hate this school." I wondered what I did to deserve something like this. I made deals with God to make it go away. Then I realized something like this is probably in my hands. I mean, if it were up to God, the adviser probably would have e-mailed him instead.

This time, I decided to brush aside the helplessness and the resignation, and do something about it. I took action. I'm still taking action. I'm going to meet with the necessary people and make damn sure I get what I deserve. Whether it is a diploma is still up in the air.

I made phone calls, I scoured my computer's hard drive for the right papers, I tore up my room looking for the grades. I will also make index cards proving my point. I will make sure all points of view are carefully considered before a decision into my future is made. I will stop saying I hate Penn State and do something about the obstacles I meet instead of lying down and rolling over. The bureaucracy train will not roll over me again. Not this time.

I made the first phone call and the kind, helpful woman on the other end directed me to where I should go. She also asked that I call her back and let her know how it went.

I made the second phone call, and found out that all was not lost. The woman reassured me that everything would probably be fine and, like the first, to let her know how everything went.

I actually felt lighter after speaking to her. I even smiled. I thought it was amazing. As it turns out, these wily adviser-type employees really could help. As long as I let them know I exist, they care. They may not care the way my roommates or family does, but they care enough to help get me through the rough spots. Weird enough, I found out that even the biggest universities have a beating heart. It's buried, and you must go find it yourself, but it's there.

The next time I'm faced with a university problem, I won't say I hate Penn State. Instead, I'll look at it for what it probably is, something I did wrong or forgot to do at all.

I remember being in high school, and telling my friends how much I hated my parents because they wouldn't let me stay out late enough. Or they made me clean my room. When I got a bad grade, I was grounded. I felt it was like they didn't care.

I look back on those days and laugh to myself about how silly that was. It was easy to blame someone else for the mistakes I made.

The truth is, most students know where they can and cannot park. The signs are everywhere. Since the beginning of time, tuition has gone up every year. Advisers will always suck when they don't even know who you are. Penn State administration does make huge deals with Microsoft, but at least we get the software for free. And Spanier is probably doing the best he can. It's not easy managing thousands of 20 somethings all the time. You try it.

Penn State is not perfect, and it probably never will be. But as students who are supposed to be working hard to be here, we can at least try to make as much of it as we can. Stop complaining about the problems, and do something to solve them as best you can. Lord knows I'm trying to.