Paper Hearts and Shifting Alliances

Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished colleagues, Nobel laureates, fellow fifth graders. The fight is over. The race is run. The dream is dead. I stand before you this evening with a heavy heart. It was my understanding that my proposed changes to our school met with popular support but it seems I will never be able to grant you the extra fifteen minutes of recess and free Coca-Cola you deserve.

I remember the standing ovation I received when I announced my candidacy for Student Council Association President last week and the thunderous applause upon announcing my major running points. I was emboldened. Fearless. Some might say overly-confident, but there was no doubting the poll numbers showing my 65%/35% projected lead. Which is why I am at a loss to understand how I could lose.

First and foremost, my opponent was a girl. What the hell do girls know about leadership? We need strong, determined, rock-solid leaders at Twin Forks Elementary, not leaders that will bend to pressure from an increasingly assertive Shanghai Instructional School. We need a leader willing to sit in the driver’s seat and restore Twin Forks to its rightful place of strength in the Tuckahoe community. Sugar, spice and everything nice will only hasten our descent.

Not once have I witnessed my opponent catch the ball in German Dodgeball. She has always been one of the first players out, watching the rest of the game from the sidelines. Not once have I witnessed my opponent complete a pull-up, draw a cool-looking dragon or build anything at all. Would you rather take your destiny into your own hands, or drink tea and watch the Chinese build it for you? Apparently, the answer is the latter.

And how did my allegations of racism not win more votes for my glorious cause? I thought that always worked. Multiple top aides of mine, witnessed a skirmish between my opponent and Tamicka on the playground involving much pulling of hair and gnashing of teeth. I thought I could use this to my advantage but it seems there is a conspiratorial effort by the other girls of our school to undermine progress and our collective self-determination.

As I have followed the path from kindergarten to fifth grade, I have noticed some changes. Foremost of these is my diminishing physical stature in relation to my classmates. Where in second or third grade, I was able to win respect with physical combat on the playground, now I feel victory in this realm is out of my reach. Perhaps, being all-too-aware of my waning influence, I wished to project that power one last time using a method detached from the playground. A method, I could now physically contend with. Alas, despite slandering my opponent and my own phenomenal self-promotion I must admit defeat.

As I look to the future, I see only a huge mess to clean up. Namely, the streamers and Dixie cups lining the floor of this cafeteria. So I ask that you all throw away your waste like responsible children upon leaving so I won’t have to and leave a mandatory donation in the box next to the exit. Big Mike will be happy to take all of your lunch money. I will need every penny I can get in order to pay for the stickers and buttons I had printed with an advance on my allowance from my parents. I thank you for your insufficient support and look forward to even more mediocrity next year as we all enter middle school.

Goodnight.

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