There is nothing scarier in this world than seeing over 7,000 people sing “Build Me Up Buttercup” in a setting that is not a concert. At least from what I’ve seen.
In that moment, as I quivered in my khakis and dress shoes, I had the privilege of tweeting live from Quinnipiac volleyball’s first-ever NCAA Tournament match in Madison, Wisconsin. Every second was essential. Each moment mattered, not only for the story I was to write for The Chronicle, but for my own memories.
For once in my life, I understood that this was a time that I needed to soak in more than ever. I don’t know when I’ll ever return to Madison, but if I do, it almost certainly will not be under the same circumstances.
Throughout my two-and-a-half year run with this paper, there were several moments where I could have called it quits early. Sometimes I wish I did. But I didn’t, and I realize now that it was for the best.
Sometimes, you carve out an idea for your future that you dream of following to a tee. Sometimes, that idea just has to get thrown to the wind. It may or may not be your fault, but don’t be bitter. Take a lateral step, and keep moving forward. The sands may look and feel nice, but there’s always a boardwalk.
Looking back now, I wish I spent more time the way I did in Madison, just appreciating the little moments that The Chronicle allowed for me.
People can tell you your entire life to cherish each and every moment you have. However, what they don’t tell you is that no amount of living in the moment can stop time entirely.
If I could stop time, I would have already done it. I would have stopped time back in Madison. I would have done it in Providence three weeks ago when I covered the NCAA Men’s Hockey Tournament. Or when I first met former Editor-in-Chief Michael Sicoli at the involvement fair in September 2021. Or when Editor-in-Chief Alexandra Martináková, Former Creative Director Peyton McKenzie, Former Sports Editor Cameron Levasseur and I ordered seven pizzas at Colony Grill in Fairfield last November. Or the first time I ever saw my name in print.
Instead, these moments live in my mind, growing fuzzier with each passing day, whether I want them to or not. So for the time being, I’ll be grateful that I got to live them at all, because without The Chronicle, these moments would be no more real than the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
Gratitude is important. It took me way too long to realize that. So I want to spread my thanks where they’re due.
Thank you to Sicoli, Riley Millette, Xavier Cullen and Melina Khan for being some of the best mentors and role models I could have asked for. Thank you to my Mom, Dad and Professor Molly Yanity for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself.
Thank you to Peyton McKenzie for being an excellent roommate for the past three years. Thank you to my co-editor AJ Newth and Former Arts & Life Editor Neha Seenarine for dealing with my antics.
Thank you to Former Sports Editor Ethan Hurwitz for getting me into trivia and being my Shef’s buddy. And thank you to the Dunkin’ Donuts at 3300 Whitney Ave for not cutting me off after I spent what could be thousands of dollars at your shop.
This organization gave me countless opportunities I could never have even fathomed three years ago. It’s brought me close with some of the greatest friends I’ve met in this lifetime and I’ve grown and matured each and every day I’ve been part of The Chronicle.
It feels just like yesterday that Peyton and I won Co-Staffer of the Week. We were the first members of our first-year class to achieve the honor. If I could go back and tell 18-year-old Mike that Peyton and him would be in it until the end, I think he’d be OK with that.
The only thing I wish I could go back and do now is express my gratitude more on a daily basis. There will be times in life where you don’t get what you want, but I implore anyone reading this, do not let it ruin the beautiful moments where you do, like I almost did.
It pains me to have to leave The Chronicle, but I wouldn’t trade what it’s given me for the world.
