The first term of the academic year points to the possibility of a fresh start as new faces arrive on campus. But each fall, one constant remains — rush. And while the conversations that surround the process have gotten louder and more refined, they are, in many ways, as static as ever.
On Tuesday, College President Phil Hanlon and Board of Trustees Chair Bill Helman brought together Greek leaders to discuss potential reforms to the Greek system. Hosting a discussion like this amid the flurry of bad press and the increasing number of student and alumni calls for change may seem like an omen of the Greek system’s tenuous fate.
But including only Greek student leaders at this talk is both ironic, as it excludes unaffiliated students in a conversation that addresses inclusivity, and indicative that truly comprehensive reform — that is, reform that benefits all students, not just the portion of those who joined Greek houses — may be in the distant, not near, future. It is difficult enough for unaffiliated students to participate in conversations about the Greek system, as they risk being dismissed as bitter or incapable of understanding. Hanlon and Helman’s meeting of Greek leaders only further serves to disenfranchise non-Greek students.
Excluding unaffiliated students from discussions about the Greek system only makes sense under two conditions — if we deem the system irrelevant to their lives, or if we deem their voices irrelevant to the conversation at hand. But the effects of the Greek system extend beyond its members, and unaffiliated students’ voices are not only relevant but also varied. Too often, the tacit assumption is that the opinions of non-Greek students in these discussions do not matter, or that they will unanimously call for abolishing the system. That is not the case.
One of the most pervasive narratives in support of the Greek system is the narrative of personal choice, of a laissez-faire social environment in which students vote with their feet as they walk into Greek houses to rush or shake out. This narrative can be found in the Greek success stories that we are fed from time to time. We hear about students who came in opposed to the Greek system, but happily accepted bids come sophomore fall. We hear about students who desperately wanted to join one house, but became the poster child for another. We do not hear as often of the students for whom rush did not work out.
For those students, the Greek stronghold on the Dartmouth social scene does not diminish after rush any more than it does for the newly affiliated — yet too often our discussions of rush and of the Greek system writ large exclude the unaffiliated students among us. Perhaps this would make sense at a large state school, or a school where only a small percentage of students rush, but at a college as small as Dartmouth with a Greek life as expansive, limiting these discussions to only the Greek students does everyone a disservice.
Connie Gong ’15, the president of Tabard coed fraternity, told The Dartmouth after the meeting that “changes should come from the student body because the social scene is maintained by students,” and that the opportunity to maintain that scene is a “privilege.” Gong is correct that the opportunity to maintain one’s social experience is a privilege, but her statement fails to account for the fact that the Greek’s social scene is only maintained by some — not all — students. Many unaffiliated students lack that option, as the Greek system seems to permeate all aspects of life at Dartmouth.
To claim that Greek life is hegemonic in its dominance over the social structure is not to blame Greeks. It is as much a function of our geographic isolation and of administrative failure to produce truly viable alternative spaces. But we must remind ourselves that the Greek system’s reach extends far beyond its members. When we talk about Greek life, particularly when we promote reforms from within (rather than systematic overhaul), we promote the idea that we must protect students’ right to choose. We forget that choice is not a right but a privilege, one that not all students are afforded.
