From his column, "Column as I see 'em"

I’m pretty sure I’m done. Just…done.

This would be where I say “I’m through, finished, finito, terminado,” if I still cared enough to bother. But I don’t. So I didn’t.

Maybe it’s because I’m sitting here listening to Rufus Wainwright’s “Hallelujah,” and it’s just so uplifting that my spirits suddenly did a complete 180. Maybe it’s because I love the weather we’ve been getting, and it’s just so uplifting that my spirits suddenly did a 180. Maybe all of my concerns with this school have been addressed, and I’m fresh out of material for my usual, everything-in-this-school-needs-to-change-and-we-need-to-help-it-get-there column.

Remember that column? It’s the one that you’ve been reading for almost two years now (Hopefully. Realistically, though, it’s the one that you heard that one kid talk about that one time, and you thought you’d check it out in this one particular issue of the Cub.). Yeah, the column that beat a dead horse. And then kicked the dead horse. And then gave it a noogie. That’s right, avid readers: I’m done callin’ ‘em as I see ‘em.

Ha.

Let’s get real, though. I’m not done callin’ ‘em as I see ‘em—I’m just done doing it for this school.

Why, you ask? Well, since you asked, it’s because my column is just a waste of ink. I bash and bash and bash and suggest and suggest and suggest, but it seems like no one’s listening—no one that matters, anyway. Sure, my peers love and respect me for this gem of a column, but people that have the power to make change…that’s a different story.

When I sat at the Mr. LN competition recently (why I was there is none of your business), I watched an LN columnist talking about how his writing influenced the addition of another pasta line in the cafeteria. So I got to thinking: Why haven’t I made a difference with my column?

I have yet to fulfill my goals in writing this column. I haven’t made any significant changes in the school. I couldn’t inspire the students to have more school spirit or inspire the administration to give a little back to students in the season of giving. I couldn’t even inspire the addition of a lunch line. A freaking lunch line, people.

I may have brightened a person’s day once or twice, but who cares about that? My voice hasn’t inspired any action in this school. That’s two years well-spent for you.

And with that, my fellow Americans, the Sean you’ve grown to know and hate bids you adieu.

Seriously, though, you should listen to Rufus Wainwright’s “Hallelujah.” It’s really good.