Quickly and quietly, a year has passed since the discovery of the now infamous Beta poem -- a year marked by turmoil and talk about the Greek system, its merits, problems and effect on campus social space. How appropriate that after a year of discussion, action and reflection we return to the thing that sparked such controversy this past winter. We return to shit.
The issues raised by the recent sorority break-ins at Kappa Kappa Gamma and Sigma Delta are both old and new, the same and different. They force us to look at our attitudes, our organizations and ourselves, to look at where we live and where our friends live and if we can, as men and women, find a home away from home at Dartmouth.
When I left New York almost two years ago, I knew that living at college would be different, that my room would be lacking some of the essential comforts of my old room -- my bed, desk and stuffed animals for starters. What I could not have anticipated are the feelings you go through when passing your freshman room and seeing someone else in the window, someone whose tastes you don't share, who sleeps in your bed, works at your desk and hangs her posters where yours used to be.
While this is obviously disquieting, it is nothing compared with the insecurity and vulnerability I can only imagine encountering if my room was broken into, my one teddy bear decapitated and my drawers filled with feces.
Somehow, however, I do not believe this would happen in my room. Perhaps it is because I have no code on my door, but rather a lock which I use for the most part. More likely, it is because I live in a River Apartment rather than a sorority. I live where there is no separation between basement culture and upstairs culture, where it is no more acceptable to throw things on the floor where I hang out than where I sleep, where I know the people coming in and out and I feel in control.
Most students would agree that feces are offensive, that putting a teddy bear's head in the fridge borders on deranged and that broken windows are undesirable, but where do we as a community draw the line between fraternity/sorority pranks and malicious, harmful behavior?
Hearing about the "outrage" provoked by the Kappa break-in, I cannot help but recall a story told by one sister just a week ago. She was relating the house's stealing of a fraternity's pong table and how it was "so funny" that they had stolen it and painted Kappa all over it, defacing the property all in the spirit of "good fun."
The story was nothing new. Pong table theft has become standard fare on this campus. It is the kind of thing that happens every week, that we rarely hear about unless our friends decide it was an especially heroic feat. It is a part of the basement culture, the culture that comes alive on weekends and Wednesdays and that lives on, for a few of us, all week long.
Those within the Greek system seem to have an implicit understanding that this basement culture is not all of who they are, that there is an upstairs which is proper and, whether with wooden floors or dog-slobbered couches, should not be victim to basement pranks. But, while the leap from basement to upstairs may seem a world away at times, it is all too easy for basement pranks to become house attacks.
Too often, we forget that people live in these houses because they, caught up in the culture of the basement, with its binge drinking and random hook-ups, forget as well. Unfortunately, when the line is crossed, it seems that women on this campus have more to lose than men.
When an unidentified person breaks into a sorority, occupied or not, concerns and fears beyond those of property damage arise. If someone breaks a window in a moment of drunkenness or decides to "punish" a house for the actions of one sister -- which is rumored to have happened in the Kappa incident -- butchering teddy bears and leaving shit, it becomes clear that sororities may no longer be safe from intruders. And, if the leap can be made from basement to upstairs, what is to say that it cannot be made from trespassing to assault?
I do not mean to imply that Greek women are now at the mercy of malicious, ax-wielding, teddy-bear killers and can no longer be safe, or that Kappa deserved to be shit upon for pong table theft or the possible defacement of other property by one of its members.
What is most important, however, is that connections be made between basement and upstairs, the Saturday Night You and the Monday Morning You, so that each of us is whole and can begin to take responsibility for our actions and respect the places where we'll live for two more years.
Hopefully, the shit is out of everyone's systems and we can begin to work together towards restoring confidence in our social spaces so all of us can sleep a little easier at night, knowing our teddy bears and ourselves will be safe from violation.
