I had “it”. I lost “it”. I had “it” again. I lost “it” again.
My time at the Massachusetts Daily Collegian has meant the world to me. As a first-semester freshman stepping onto campus with big dreams and no plans of slowing down, the homey feel and vibrant community in Room 210 entranced me in an instant.
I definitely had a bit of a malleable mind back then, but I still think I made the right decision in my first semester to abruptly switch my focus from a broadcasting career to a writing career. Four years of high school conversations about my future on the air were instantly rendered moot, and for that I am grateful.
It’s tough for me to envision a better path for myself with this paper than the one I wound up with. Though the sport tests my love for it seemingly every day now, I’m still obsessed with college basketball, and I was lucky enough to cover UMass’ men’s team for all four years. The earliest you can get onto the football beat is as a sophomore, and that’s when I hopped on (5-31 throughout my coverage!).
There was a minor setback when I didn’t get an assistant editor spot as a sophomore, but I rebounded in a major way, getting to be head sports editor for my final two years here. I never wanted a major editorial role; my heart has been, and always will be, intertwined with sports. This position was my final stop.
Throughout it all, I battled inside trying to find and hold onto “it.” At the start, I wasn’t entirely sure what “it” was, but I knew it only took one moment for it to come or go.
From mid-March to May 2025, I had “it.” The senior class above me was filled with some of the closest friends I’ve made at this school — people like Mike Maynard, Johnny Depin, Sydney Ciano — and I was determined to soak in the last few weeks with them, because who knew when we’d see each other again. We had a lot of fun during that time, and it led me to run great meetings and feel energized, even as the year came to a close.
From Oct. to Dec. 2025, I lost “it.” We were in the heart of the fall semester, and I was rerunning many of the baseline activities we do at meetings to get everyone up to speed. From my perspective, I was not doing justice to these important lessons, stumbling through my points when I needed to be confident and clear. At the same time, my consistent “be grateful you’re covering college football” mindset was being questioned every week, as my interest in covering the Minutemen waned, I grew dissatisfied with the football stories I was putting out.
“It” has defined much of my time here. I’ve bounced between the two frames of mind I mention above quite a few times, occasionally in quick succession. At the end of the basketball season this year, I got a second wind, and I really liked the stories I put out at the Mid-American Tournament in Cleveland. A week later, I covered March Madness courtside for a different outlet and put out five high-quality pieces I was proud of. A week after that, it took me two hours to write a 100-word response that most of my classmates probably completed in 15 minutes. Even after I made a lifelong memory in journalism, “it” couldn’t stick around for long.
There hasn’t been a triumphant ending to this story yet, one where I finally find and hold onto “it” once and for all. With that, I share this story as a bit of narrative therapy for myself, but also to benefit a reader who may be in the same situation, because through these moments, I’ve grown to define what “it” is.
“It” manifests itself in my self-confidence. When I gain “it,” I’m completely comfortable in my own skin, and I feel like I can handle any situation thrown my way. When I lose “it,” it’s largely because I’ve felt like I haven’t met the standards that I, and others, have set.
Those rough meetings stung worse, because in my mind, the previous head editors never had an off night. As a head editor, I told myself that my responsibility was to set the standard with exceptional writing, and so one subpar story was all it took for “it” to be gone.
I’ve come far enough now to know that these all-or-nothing mindsets aren’t the healthiest, but I still can’t shake them. As I head into post-grad life, that’s the next step. Knowing is at least half the battle, and I passed that point here.
Just as I’ve learned how I lose “it,” while here, I’ve also come to understand how I get “it” back. The remedy has always been to do fun things around good people, as the right moment can put any or all of my self-doubts behind me. Many of my best memories at UMass came with Collegian people by my side; while I won’t see them often anymore, they’ve left me with clear directions to build myself back up should I lose “it” again. That knowledge is invaluable to me.
To Lulu Kesin, Joey Aliberti and Pedro Gray Soares — you made the transition from high school to college easy. Your work set a high bar, and while you were great mentors, you also treated a freshman from Buffalo like you had known him forever. If it weren’t for you three, I may have never had a byline.
To Mike, Johnny and Sydney, plus my other friends from the Class of 2025 — I may be a year late, but I’d like to think I’m an honorary member of your class too. When I tell Collegian stories to random folks 10, 20 years from now, 80% of them will involve one or more of you. Some bonds were closer than others, but you all helped me grow as a writer and as a person.
To Tym Brown, Cameron Pellegrino and Coleman Smith-Rakoff — I can’t lie, heading into my senior year, I was a little worried as to what my Collegian social circle would look like. You alleviated those fears, and as we worked through the basketball and football seasons, I was just as excited as ever for postgame talks in the media room. You’ve already done great work, so keep at it — bigger opportunities will be on the horizon.
To Emma Bensley — Don’t let my story worry you. On the off chance you ever feel unsure about your stories and/or meetings, they’re always better than you think, and people will remain receptive to your words. You’ve already grown tremendously since you joined the section, and I can’t wait to see you kill it from afar.
“It” wasn’t always with me, but the Collegian embraced me regardless. That everlasting support kept me around, and through it all, it’s the reason why I’m still dreaming big four years later.
Dean Wendel was the Head Sports Editor. He can be reached at [email protected] and followed on X @DeanWende1.
