Subtext: Your "brothers" are oh so happy you'll be cleaning their basement for the next year.
"But I met so many strong upperclasswomen!"
Subtext: That really bitchy senior from your gov seminar was forced to acknowledge you for approximately one minute before dinging you.
Sorry we're not sorry: This is The Mirror, and we tell it like it is.
Now that we've outraged everyone, we'd like to explain ourselves. We're not saying you shouldn't rush (full disclosure: we're both affiliated), but we're not saying you should rush either.
Rush is no less superficial than so many of our other cringe-worthy campus interactions and it's arguably worse. It involves even more senseless, chirpy chatter than does Collis. Rush is loud, it's sweaty and it's damn tiring. Erin lost her voice after her first round sophomore year, and Christina sweated through her silky shirt at her very first party. These were seriously the wost parties we've ever been to including Theta Delt '80s last Spring.
Rush sucks. But why? And can we change it?
This week's Mirror tackles Greek rush head-on. Why are there such differences between fraternity, sorority and co-ed recruitment and what can (and can't) we change about each? Are we really better off rushing here than at a larger, Southern school? Is rush really that bad? It's pretty obvious that rush goes swimmingly for some and basically shits on others.
We both survived rush, and we're (usually) happy to be part of the campus Greek community. But if you make the decision to curl up with a good book this weekend instead of traipsing around campus in uncomfortable shoes having meaningless small talk well, we can't say we blame ya.
