At the end of every year, without fail, I cry on moving day. It doesn’t matter if it’s on my friends, into my posters or even under a freshly cleaned out bed, the tears come without fail. I’m always the first on campus—by means of moving duty, couch surfing or otherwise—and the last to leave. Amherst has become a second home for me. The end of every year only signifies I am one step closer to losing it, and more importantly, leaving the people that made me come to love it.

I have three University of Massachusetts Amherst alumnus in my family (crazy, right?), and they’re always asking what’s still happening here on campus. “Is D.P. Dough still open?” “What kinds of bands come up?” “Do you have any friends in the Boulders? Is it still infested with skunks?” The list goes on. But alongside it there is always encouragement to keep exploring. My dad is probably the worst with it. We continue to have calls where he’ll say, “Why are you doing homework? Go outside. Throw rocks. Go find something to set on fire. I don’t know!”

I’ve yet to set anything on fire on campus, but I took the other parts of his advice to heart. From my freshman year, I’ve sought to discover all of campus. It was always so strange to hear people from Southwest saying they had never been up to Sylvan and vice versa. To me, the campus was a playground: there was always something to find or someone to meet.

Exploration was easy, but finding my place, my people, wasn’t. My freshman year friend group turned into a dumpster fire by my sophomore year, poetry club turned down my application to be vice president and astronomy club…was actually quite good, it just never fit into my schedule. I entered into political science and philosophy courses, hoping I’d like them enough to minor in them (I didn’t), and didn’t do a single requirement for my major my first semester to see the range of classes the university offered instead (which was an incredibly bad decision).

At times, it felt like the entirety of the campus was against me. UMass Amherst is certainly no paradise. I’ll never forget numbly chewing on Antonio’s pizza after I lost my housing in the 2023 lottery, or coming back to campus at 2 a.m. to hear my fellow students had been brutalized for standing up for Palestine. I’ve had a professor mark me down a whole letter grade because she didn’t like the topic of my paper, ended up taking an 8 a.m. five days a week because the admin messed up my language requirement and got in trouble for going to the bathroom during class.

In spite of it all—the friendships I lost, the stress of school and my anger bleeding through every article I’ve written here—I wouldn’t change a single thing. Every mistake, every setback, resulted in me meeting incredible people and doing things I hadn’t thought of before. My failed presidential poetry run got me my first friend within the English Major. My 8 a.m. led me to take on a Classics Minor, where I’ve learned so much and befriended many amazing people. My freshman year acquaintances ended up becoming my best friends. The person who introduced me to the Collegian itself isn’t even my friend anymore, yet I’ve come out on the other side with more than I could ask for.

As a result, I’ve always felt like I had an ear in every major: Art History, Biochemistry, Computer Science, Classics, Economics, Engineering, English, Journalism, Math, Music, Political Science and so on. I loved gaining all of these different perspectives and meeting all these new kinds of people. My town felt so small—and it feels like it almost shrunk since my college years. At UMass I’ve gotten to know people from all over the country and across the world.

I’ve grown to love UMass because of the people who inhabit the campus rather than those who’ve controlled it—the people who stood up to the injustice on our campus, completed valuable research, raised money for important causes, created beautiful art or worked to keep the campus informed. Or, simply, those who supported the community in any way they could. If anything, to me, these were the people who truly ran UMass.

I wish I could simply list all the people I’ve met here, whose friendships—or mere acquaintances—have changed my life so thoroughly. I fear it would be too long a list. I like to think I am tough, or that people perceive me that way, but if you know me beyond my articles, you know I’m extremely sentimental—a sap really. I am always taking pictures and videos of my friends. I save everything from fliers to trash in my planner. I cry on the last day of school every year.

I remember I had a father reach out to me earlier this year, saying his child was in his freshman year and still hadn’t found the community I’d written about. It was hard to give any advice other than just time and patience. Looking back now, I would say, yes, have time and patience, but also just get out there.

I think I cry because I know I’ll never have an opportunity to do it all again. You have an incredible community at your fingertips. So, take a break from your homework and get out there. Do it all, and do it wrong if you have to. Go set something on fire (and, for legal purposes, take this as a joke).

Hailey Furilla was an Assistant Opinion Editor. Don’t hesitate to reach out at [email protected].