Feeney’s final focus 

Prior to our final cross country county championship my coach looked over at the 10 of us toeing the line and said: “It’s been a long four years. You’ve earned this, now go get it.” We did just that, capping off a four-year dream of mine — to be part of a county championship winning team. 

Like any 17-year-old who wanted to share his accomplishments, I took to Instagram and wrote a post about attaining my dream, starting my caption off with “It’s been a long four years.” Now, as a 21-year-old about to graduate from the University of Connecticut, I can’t say it’s been a long four years after looking back on my time here; it’s felt remarkably short. 

However, it has been a strange four years. My first two years at UConn were defined by remarkable instability. Due to a once in a lifetime pandemic, I was home, feeling completely disconnected from the institution to which I was committing my next four years and thousands of dollars. 

While I was able to return to campus as a sophomore, UConn maintained many of the lockdown features it had the year prior; masks, reduced capacity classes and online classes were features of my first semester on campus. Then, classes were delayed an extra two weeks, forcing students to stay off campus; and just for good measure: I tangoed with death! 

My diagnosis forced me back home for three weeks due to the whole almost-dying thing. Forty-eight hours after my diagnosis, I found out that my grandfather had been diagnosed with cancer. This Saturday marks two years since his death. 

Having to deal with everything I just mentioned above, by the time my sophomore year ended, I felt weaker than a mouse. My brain was like a rubber band that had just snapped. I wanted to lock myself inside and never come out again. 

I felt insane. While I had a newsroom internship over the summer, I felt disconnected from everything. My body could barely maintain homeostasis and my mind was barely present: Who was I to try to write about anything? 

However, as they say: Time heals all wounds. As my junior year wore on, I began to feel less insane and more like myself. In addition, the world returned to pre-COVID-19 life and UConn’s campus reflected that. It was time to be a college student. 

While socially and personally my junior year saw a drastic improvement over the first two, there was one area that I lacked in: employment. For months on end, regardless of the position, required qualifications or type of work done, I couldn’t find a job. This really wrecked my confidence, making me doubt my own abilities. 

By the time school wrapped up I just needed money, so I spent my entire summer working. At this point I had wanted to do everything on my own and figure it out myself; but after spending my summer at a summer camp, I relearned the importance of a team. Entering my senior year I had one goal: write. 

So, despite my ever-persistent imposter syndrome (and a slight panic attack about 15 minutes prior), I forced myself into the basement of The Daily Campus and went to my first ever opinion meeting, and I can honestly say that it changed my life. 

I liked writing and knew that I was good at it after my first three years of college. My senior year, above all else, was defined by a complete and utter obsession with my writing. During my classes, I was only thinking about what I was writing for a given week or what I wanted to write about. 

My work here provided me an opportunity to intern this spring at the best newspaper in the state, allowing me to meet so many amazing journalists, all of whom have made me a better writer than I could have ever hoped to be on my own. So, friends, I say: Embrace community wherever you can find it. It was a strange four years for sure, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Before I go, some thank yous. To my mom, dad, sister and brother: You will always be my favorite people to share my work with, I hope I made you proud. To my aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents: thank you for the support and love you have given me over the years; I can’t put into words how much it means. To my friends I’ve made here: Ryan, Matt, Jack, Jake, Danny and Case; my flag football teammates forever, you guys brought me unparalleled joy when I was at my lowest, thank you. 

Finally, to you: the reader. I always considered my writing to be a conversation (one that I have been outright hogging, by the way). I thank you for listening to me, but this is not a goodbye; I am just going to go grab a drink and I hope we’ll get the chance to talk again at some point.