My sophomore fall, I wrote a column (“Reforming an Imperfect Process,” Oct. 1, 2012) advocating the need to appreciate the limitations of rush and refrain from taking it too seriously. I portrayed rush as a sort of necessary evil — an unpleasant route to what I assumed would be a meaningful end. I was wrong. It was not until I experienced rush as a member of a sorority that I truly understood the process’s profoundly flawed nature. I always knew it was superficial, but it was during my sorority’s deliberations that I finally acknowledged how mean and degrading it really was.
Members of my sorority, of which I am no longer a member, were taught terms like NGB — “nice girl but” — to describe a woman who was perfectly nice but, for an unsaid reason (typically a superficial quality), would not fit into the house. I listened to my sisters bash women whom I did not know and was told to trust their knowledge and, more often, their cursory impressions of those women. I also listened to my sisters bash women whom I did know and portray them in what I perceived to be a completely false light in a room full of 60 women — 60 women who then walked away with extremely unfair judgments of those women. I found even myself criticizing women who had “wronged” me in the past.
During second round deliberations, I finally had to get up and leave. I hated myself for succumbing to the warped logic of rush, and I hated the Greek system for imposing this artificial process on women who wanted to branch out and feel like they were a part of something. The truth is that we do not need sororities or fraternities (whose rush and pledge term processes are flawed in their own right). In fact, we would be better off without them. I know that belief makes people on this campus mad — so mad that it is kind of scary — but stay with me for a moment.
It is hurtful, limiting and completely unnecessary to institutionalize and hierarchize large cliques of people through an artificial judgment process. It is also unnecessary to make people pay ridiculous sums of money to be members of what are essentially overpriced drinking clubs. We talk about financial aid as a means of inclusivity (though it is met with very limited success), but no one should have to work to secure funds to join a social group in the first place. Furthermore, we cannot continue to legitimize, albeit unofficially, the damage done by hazing and the long-lasting alcoholic behavior that stems from it. We must recognize that separating men and women into different social spheres promotes sexism. Finally, we must acknowledge the inherent sexism of a social system of male-dominated spaces where men have the upper hand over their female guests. All of these things are antiquated and unwarranted. It is time we start admitting that.
People often ask what would replace the Greek system. They like to point to schools like Middlebury and Amherst, where sports teams’ houses essentially function as fraternities, and suggest that Dartmouth’s social scene would devolve into something similar. That is certainly not inevitable; the establishment of inherently inclusive residential colleges with actual diversity of ethnicities, socioeconomic backgrounds and perspectives could create the sort of smaller communities that students are looking for. Furthermore, I think these colleges could host inter-college socials so that students could meet new people outside of their own colleges. Our dorms’ current structures are not conducive to these residential colleges, so that is something for administrators to consider as new dorms are built and old ones are renovated.
Some people also ask about the importance of tradition. I point to the fact that our school’s history has shown that some traditions, such as single-sex education, simply should not last for reasons of equity and progress. And so I ask that the alums and current students who invest so much in their houses to truly consider their flaws and attempt to envision a better Dartmouth. My way is not necessarily the right way, but we need to start questioning the system we take for granted.