Madeline Wanzer '22 Recruiting Profile

I’ve wanted to row since I was six years old.

My grandfather rowed. He loved it so much he ended up remaining involved in the Dad Vail Regatta all his life. That’s how my mother grew up, spending her college years volunteering there. And that’s how I was first introduced to rowing. When I was barely five months old, I was in a stroller there. When I was two, I got a little makeshift playpen. When I was five, I started following around my dad on the launch docks. I didn’t understand schedules or any of the terminology, but my job was to check the wristbands, and I took my job very seriously.

Imagine a kindergarten in pigtails and froggy rainboots sternly ordering a bunch of six foot something heavy weight college guys to show their wristband as those guys try not to die of laughter. That’s the image of baby me.

Ever since those early days, I’ve dreamed of rowing, and I’ve loved it.

I got my first chance to actually row when I was twelve—when I joined my current team. It was a dream come true for me to row, and it was even more incredible to race on the Scuylkill. The little girl in me practically died.

I’ve lived my entire life searching for things like that—for the things that I love—the things I’m passionate about. It’s how I exist. I commit myself fully to the things I’m passionate about, doing my best to exceed the expectations put before me. It doesn’t matter if it’s choir, mock trial, academics, crew, or just a random hobby. I chose what I love and give everything to it. 

There are certain things I’ve gotten lucky in. I was fortunate with my height genetics. I was lucky to start rowing incredibly young. And I was incredibly lucky to have a supportive family and strong academics to keep me able to row. But I also know that everything I have is the product of (I know this is cliché) a lot of hard work.

I learned over the past year that I have anxiety and ADHD. It messed with my brain to know that all of my actions were impacted by my own already messed up brain. I’m still struggling to figure out how to live with that. How to deal with it so I don’t panic at tests or 2ks. It’s taking a lot. But I’m trying.

It likely doesn’t help that I do a great deal. I row. I sing. I play the bass. I mock trial (for these purposes mock trial is a verb). And I still do relatively well in school. I’ve learned, despite my challenges and issues, to be able to do well. The challenge is where I thrive. I live to meet (and exceed) the expectations set before me. I do it because I live for it. I do it because I live for the things I do. I do it because I love the things I do. Especially crew.

Especially crew, which is my steadying rod, my think nothing, give everything. It’s one of the few things where my brain can turn off and my body can take over. As long as I let it, of course. I’m rather sure that crew has been the only thing to keep me somewhat sane over the last five years of my life. I don’t know how I’d live without it.

I don’t know if these things make me different. I don’t believe they does. But I’ve spent my entire life pushing and testing my limits, fulfilling my dreams, and college isn’t going to make me stop that. Nothing will.