There was a time when going to college meant something. A time when very few people were able to make their way onto a campus such as this one. And most of those people were either extremely smart, or wealthy, or both.

But for those people who were smart and members of a lower class, college was not a means of maintaining their family's status quo.

They didn't go so they too could be a figurehead in their community, or so they could have expensive things.

Rather, these people went to college to get out.

They didn't want to have to work in the mills or the mines like their fathers and grandfathers.

They didn't want to have to feel inferior when they were assisting the wealthy in the hardware store.

They wanted to move up and give their children the lives they were unable to have.

To do this, these people worked multiple jobs, both during the school year and in the summer, just to get by.

But, as a sign at Saturday's football game said: "This isn't your father's Penn State."

This summer, I decided to take a summer course in speech communications -- that discipline now known as communication arts and sciences -- at a commonwealth campus in my hometown.

To be honest, it was easier than picking up a freshman girl at a fraternity party.

But for some of the adults pursuing a degree, the class seemed a little more difficult.

The final speech we had to present was our persuasive speech.

One man, Tony, gave his on staying in college.

Tony looked like he was in his mid-30s.

He worked in construction locally and would arrive at the evening class still wearing his work clothes.

The job he worked, well, sucked. (He even said so in his speeches.)

He worked very long hours and did not get paid nearly as much as many students do when they work construction during the summer.

His speech ...

Let's just say he's a great guy.

It lasted three minutes, but the message spoke to me.

"I persuade you to get your degree," he kept repeating, before revealing how hard he has worked just to take one class every other semester.

Then, I returned here -- to State College.

Tony was replaced with the collective student body of Penn State.

He was replaced by the students who don't go to class, so they can sleep in.

He was replaced by the students who don't take notes, who zone out all the time in class, who have Mommy and Daddy pay for school.

Don't get me wrong: There are students that have loans out the wazoo who don't go to class. I had a roommate like that, and he's only hurting himself.

But there are many students that don't have loans. There are many students who don't even need a summer job; their parents pay for everything. And others, they do get jobs -- so they can go to Cancun for spring break.

A college education and the institutions that provide it seem to mean far less now than they did in the past.

But the blame should not be placed on the schools. Instead, it should be placed on the students who don't realize how much it means to people like Tony. Because they're the ones who choose to spend their Wednesday night at a party instead of the library.

It's no wonder some of them will be asking why they can't get a job after they graduate -- if they even do.