My career changed significantly in October of 2020. It was not unexpected.
University of Iowa fans warned me a few months earlier that I’d be ruining my career reporting on racial bias in the school’s football program. Amplifying voices of the former student-athletes making those claims burned bridges with many Hawkeyes and their intensely loyal followers.
I’m not going to litigate that here. It’s not important. It doesn’t change the fact that two reports confirmed that Iowa Football discriminated based on skin color.
My full-time employer at the time was a president of a Hawkeye booster club. He didn’t make it to Halloween before delivering the first blow to a journalism career that included more than two decades of covering Iowa Athletics. He cut my salary by 55 percent.
While a longtime friend from the beat called it a career after covering the unsettling discrimination story, I didn’t feel ready to follow. Part of my reluctance was steeped in fearing change. I planned to retire covering the Hawkeyes. It’s what I knew.
I picked up freelance work to supplement my reduced wages. I returned to producing high school sports content like earlier in my career. It’s been rewarding.
While it was weird being off of the beat, I still wrote news, recorded podcasts and attended Hawkeye games. That world remained a big part of mine.
Despite the change in my relationship with Iowa Athletics altering the content I could produce, I was mostly comfortable with the work. I figured 2025 would bring much of the same. Once again, life had another plan.
Early this January, the company that took me from full-time to part-time five years ago informed me that its website would be going dark. That was that.
After wrestling with depression throughout February, I emerged with a new focus. Leaving regular Hawkeye reporting behind felt liberating. Turns out, there was nothing to fear.
I pursued opportunities working at places I admired. That’s why you’re reading this piece in Little Village, a valuable publication dedicated to independent thought and critical thinking. The owner cares about this state, especially the People’s Republic of Iowa City.
I will not be sticking to sports here. I don’t want the subjects to shut up and dribble. I’m searching for substantive sports stories on a landscape of superficial debate. For that, I am thankful.
Organized athletics are a microcosm of society. Separating them is missing an opportunity. I’m excited for what will be self growth while exploring the intersections. Meaningful conversations often arise from broaching uncomfortable topics.
Everybody knows these Caitlin Clark-Angel Reese debates are rooted in a lot more than basketball. It’s deep and worthy of attention. So, let’s talk about it and the bounty of other examples across the athletics landscape.
This whole idea feels therapeutic and long overdue.
Read Howe’s first story in Little Village:
