As I write this column from the Massachusetts Daily Collegian’s office, it’s been a long time since I came to America. On August 25, 2021, I got on a plane from New Delhi to Boston. On paper, this decision didn’t really demonstrate much; plenty of Indians come to the U.S. for higher education, and with technical fields like Computer Science—as popular as they are back home—studying at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, with its top-notch CS program, actually made me a textbook story.

But I never came here to study Computer Science. I never came to America to work in Silicon Valley. I came to America to live as an American.

I joined the Collegian almost immediately after I got to UMass. I founded and ran an opinion essay magazine with some friends during the COVID-19 pandemic, and I knew that commentary and opinion-writing was my future, so the Collegian’s Opinion section seemed like the place to be. I showed up one Wednesday evening at 6:30 p.m. (That’s Opinion’s ancestral time, Daniel. You’d better get it for next year!), in Room 210 of the Student Union and never left.

At the time, I was trying my best to fit in and to gel within this new society. Freshman year friend groups are an experience best not committed to paper, so I will leave that to the reader’s imagination, but having presumably been through it yourself, you can glean the chaos I am referring to.

As is well known within the Collegian, I’m a bit of a cynic. I’m not afraid to admit that when I first joined I had that same cynical perspective about the Collegian too. “Who even reads a campus newspaper?” “I’m just doing it to put it on my resume.” and “Not like this actually matters or makes a difference,” were all thoughts I had early on in my time here.

But there’s something about spending two years in close proximity with the amazing people that have populated this office that have entirely replaced that cynicism. Maybe it was Managing Editor Johnny Depin helping me get my driver’s license and letting me practice driving on the right side of the road in his red Kia Soul. Maybe it was going to Catholic Mass with him during winter break. Maybe it was him teaching me the Pledge of Allegiance.

Maybe it was the fearless and selfless leadership he and Editor-in-Chief Caitlin Reardon showed this whole year. Maybe it was the stellar coverage of the encampments we did last year. Maybe it was the all-hands-on-deck Election Day coverage we did this year. Maybe it was adding endless caveats to my personal form of neoliberalism when arguing with Head News Editor and incoming EIC Daniel Frank, one of the sharpest minds I’ve ever met and the man who took a 14,000-word hammer to the SGA’s incompetence. (You are still wrong about Bill Clinton, brother. I hope you know).

Maybe it was the Opinion Section Fall 2024 Showcase magazine that I poured my heart and soul into. (You were expecting a parenthetical complaint about InDesign, right?) Maybe it was the Italian arc, where I did a Jersey accent and pretended to be an Italian mobster, kissing everyone on both cheeks when greeting them because I was watching the Sopranos. Maybe it was jumping into Puffers Pond with Johnny and Head Arts Editor Gustavo Atencio Flores, because we promised we would if we won our Power Hour.

Maybe it was the 4000th cigarette smoked with fellow cynics and Assistant Opinion Editors Samuel Cavalheiro and Zach Leach. Maybe it was the friendship I formed with two Student Union Custodians, Dusko and David, because I spent so much time in the Union. I even set up a Collegian profile of them! Maybe it was the endless motivational conversations and relationship advice traded with Business Manager Robert Gleeson. Maybe it was the countless other incredibly meaningful relationships I formed, which I won’t specify for brevity’s sake. Maybe it was the general sitcom-esque vibe that my last two years at the Collegian office have had.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that I finally found my people. People that I could connect with. People that shared my interests in writing, in politics and above all, in being a complete goofball.

I came to America to be an American, but I never felt like one until I found myself a part of the Collegian. This paper has given me so much that I can never hope to repay. (I will try though, just give me a few years!) I found a place in this country. I found community the likes of which I can only hope to find again. I learned more about life and human relationships than I ever would have otherwise. I’ve had shoulders to cry on during times of stress (thank you Nathan!), and friends to celebrate genuine successes with.

And now I’m leaving? It’s too much to bear. For someone who just now dropped his cynicism, doing 22 years’ worth of emotional regulation in a month is pretty challenging. The sadness of leaving is only worsening every emotion I feel, and I’m no good at handling mine regardless.

But if I can take leave to speak a little generally: we knew it had to end at some point, right? This was never going to last forever. We went into it knowing that. Maybe I forgot that somewhere along the way. So yes, it hurts that it’s over. It hurts that I might never see you again. It hurts that I won’t ever walk across campus and run into you, and share a brief moment again. It hurts that I won’t pass that little hallway behind the staircase in the Student Union and find you again.

There will never be another time in our lives exactly like this. But that’s okay, because there will be other times. And those won’t ever be what this was, but this won’t ever be what those will be either. They’ll all be different, and they’ll all have their own special place. That hurt and that sadness then, is just a sign of how incredibly meaningful it all was. For someone who’s never felt things too deeply, this is a novel feeling. But I try to take my tears as a note to be grateful; I wouldn’t be moved this way if I hadn’t been privileged enough to experience something amazing.

And yes, the future is pretty uncertain at the moment (especially for me, being on a visa and all), which is making me even more of an emotional mess. Some of us know what we’re doing after college, while some of us don’t yet. And you know what? That’s perfectly fine. I’ve never met a smarter or harder working group of people. I know we’ll all take the time and do the work to figure the future out. That, I will take on faith.

But for now, to my fellow graduating seniors: I’d love it if we could all just live in the moment a little longer. The sun is shining in America, and it’s such a nice day out. There’s still so much else to do. Let’s not say our goodbyes just yet.

But if we really must, then how about this?

We’ll say them tomorrow. At lunch.

Manas Pandit was Head Opinion Editor. He can be reached at [email protected].