No more drama-

Men, women, and students of all classifications and institutions, welcome to Southern. We hope you enjoy your stay here on The Bluff, as we call it. Now let me bring you up to speed.
In case you haven’t noticed, the recent changes in the Southern University System have earmarked the country’s lone historically black university system as the proverbial question mark of academic institutions.
The revolving door at the Baton Rouge campus, alone, has folks asking, “Who’s next?”
Explicitly, who’s next to be fired, hired or left out to dry after being wrung tightly by those who feel Southern’s integrity should not be compromised.
Leon R. Tarver II walked through that revolving door, leaving us SUBR Chancellor Edward R. Jackson to assume the helm.
Authorities escorted Curtis Lee from the premises and across campus, Jesse Owens couldn’t have run a faster time than when former athletic director Floyd A. Kerr was dismissed.
Now Greg LaFleur occupies the top office in the building named for the man who proved Adolf Hitler wrong.
Somewhere, I see an ironic symbolism in this.
In 1936, Owens dispelled the myth that a particular group of people were perfect. And though God may have looked upon Southern with favor because he made the sky Columbia Blue and gave us hearts of gold, Southern has been ousted as anything but perfect.
By no means am I putting us in the same basket as Nazis, but believe me when I tell you we do have our share of dictators.
After two years, a disconsolate Michael Grant left the Minidome, making way for Spivery’s five-year contract and loads of incentives if the house is fan-packed. But two years seems to be the going term limit for a Southern’s men’s basketball coach these days, regardless of what their contract may say. Just ask interim President Jackson.
After all, here on The Bluff, it isn’t money that talks, because we supposedly don’t have any. It’s championships that talk, while we watch the facilities, pay raises and ideas of an intramural facility take a walk.
Speaking of walking, no more of the days when we see Cleo Carroll patrolling T.H. Harris Hall. There’s a new transcript sheriff in town.
Yes, Brenda K. Williams and her team are still trying to clean up a mess that in a sense brought us this sense of edification and administrative purging.
No more are the days that Nat Harrison can nod to the parents and guardians of wannabe Southernites, acting as a “Pied Piper” for Southern’s soon-to-be. It’s now up to interim director Tracie Abraham and company to usher in the new while making sure the old have submitted their ACT scores.
And yes, the system still has to find us a new mommy or daddy, or can we have both? Statistics say two parents are better than one.
There are at least 22 candidates-23, if you include Jackson on the slick-nationwide who think they are competent enough to look down on us from the “Fourth Floor.”
I know, all of these changes might frightened the meek, but don’t fear. We are Southernites and Southern will persevere.
But surely some of you agree that a drama with so many cliffhangers definitely needs background music.
So who’s going to lead the band when they play it?