To Greek and Back

At Penn, freshman rush happens at the beginning of the second semester. They do this, apparently, because they want to make sure new students have a chance to discover their "places" before getting wrapped up in Greek life. I rushed out of curiosity, met a really great group of girls, and decided to pledge.

Here's the problem: I was never fully able to commit myself to the sorority. I was always busy: I had a job, I took way more classes than I actually had to, and there were always a few dozen theatre productions that I had my hands in. I was never willing to put my Greek affiliation in front of those things. The leadership of the sorority knew this, and also knew that I would give very candid answers when asked whether pledging, and later, membership, meant a big time commitment, so when prospective pledges would come around, I was relegated to kitchen duty. They seemed worried I'd scare some girls off, because I'd be straight with them about what kind of commitment they were making. This was annoying, but probably pretty fair.

I wasn't at a lot of chapter meetings or events, because they always conflicted with class or work or rehearsal. It got to feel like I was paying for other people to have fun, and getting very little in return. But that wasn't why I ultimately quit.


When other sisters in the sorority would have dance performances or a cappella performances, an email would go out to the listserv and a big group would meet at the House and head out to the show together. But for whatever reason, whenever I had a show, or even whenever my Big Sister had a show, there were no groups. We were lucky if there were three people from the House there. The last straw came one day during the spring semester of my sophomore year. It was initiation day for the new pledge class, and my Big Sister and I had spent the evening before striking the set for a play that she was in and I was doing costumes and PR for. It was a big set. We left the theatre at 4:30 in the morning, and had to be at initiation—held at ten a.m. in a darkened room—so it's only natural that, without the aid of some pretty strong amphetamines, we were not going to be able to stay awake. Three hours and no speed later, clearly, both of us had dozed off once or twice. And we were called before a disciplinary panel a few weeks later, and told that in exchange for giving into basic physiological needs, we would be fined and/or expected to perform community service. They were not going to budge.

In the real world, people win law suits over things like this.

But Greek life isn't the real world. Not even close. Which I already knew, but was reminded of when I read this article in The New York Times. Basically, it tells of a sorority that kicked two-thirds of its members out for being "socially awkward" (mostly, not pretty enough), but saying it was because they weren't "fully committed." Two-thirds of its members. I look at situations like this and I'm more certain than ever that I made the right decision when I left my Greek letters behind me (and gave the t-shirts to my Little Sister).

Groucho Marx didn't want to be a member of any club that would want him as a member. I wouldn't want to be a member of any club that didn't want me.