This article is featured in the 2025 Freshman Special Issue.
In my first year at Dartmouth, the only time anyone mentioned my assigned housing community after Orientation Week was when my roommate and I stared, despairing, at the sad list of sophomore-year housing options. The fraternity I might rush, though? That came up almost every day in the spring. Even now, as I write this in early August, I can’t help but think about how a fraternity member might react when he reads it on a September morning before rush.
This personal tension reflects a larger institutional one. Greek houses are irreplaceable by housing communities or any other social stratification by virtue of the fact that they’re exclusive, and require a conscientious effort to join.
The failure of the open residential housing system makes this trend clear. In 2016, the College launched the program as an alternative to Greek houses, sorting each student into a Hogwarts-esque house that aligns with their freshman-year dorm.
These communities, however, collapse under the weight of their own openness. In a place where almost everything is built on exclusivity, any system that accepts everyone and assigns them randomly will feel hollow. As Professor Janice McCabe said about the housing communities: “You belong just because you are here. You don’t have to do anything.” That’s exactly why they don’t stick past freshman fall. Even former President Philip Hanlon, who created the housing communities, is a product of the Alpha Delta fraternity. He, of all people, must have known that a community that doesn’t make you earn it won’t carry weight here.
Fraternities, on the other hand, are attractive because you must win membership. Spending spring evenings in basements, meeting brothers and stacking your fall mornings with rush meals is a conscious effort, and that makes membership feel earned. This competition is potent because it reflects other institutional values. From freshman fall, we vie for prestigious clubs, then the best Greek houses, then senior societies and finally, the best job on Wall Street. In a college where everyone has already fought hard to get in, there’s a deep respect for things that feel earned and things that feel exclusive. That’s why even when the Greek system is criticized for its toxicity, it survives. The very exclusivity that seems to be the root of its problems is also what makes it so valuable.
I’m still wrestling with how I feel. Some of my best memories from freshman year happened in frat basements — the sticky heat, the shout-sung lyrics of a song I didn’t know, the unmissable joy of sinking a ball in a cup. Despite spending years criticizing high finance, rolling my eyes at the Wall Street pipeline, I find myself allured by it now more than ever. I caught myself looking at a Goldman Sachs internship description last week and, for a terrifying second, not seeing a villain, but a path. Like most people here, I am convincing myself that I’ll come to love the work, while my eyes are really set on prestige. Like moths to the flame, Dartmouth students are drawn to circles of exclusivity. Put all of its pros and cons aside, Greek life is just another one of them.
Exclusivity exists not just in being affiliated, but also within Greek life itself. It is no secret that houses have reputations that often influence not only where students choose to rush, but also where they choose to spend a Friday night. More often than not, people choose houses based on their perceived standing in the Dartmouth community, and make assumptions about people based on those perceptions. It is completely normal here to learn about a person’s affiliation and make a series of assumptions about not only the kind of person they are, but also their background and interests. Yes, fraternities have their individual cultures, and they should strive to preserve them, but not at the cost of reinforcing shallow hierarchies and circles of exclusivity. At some point, the line between creating community and destroying it really seems to thin.
The Greek system isn’t going anywhere — and that’s okay. The problems with Greek life aren’t going to be fixed by inventing replacements. In fact, the ability to fix them isn’t primarily in the administration’s hands — it’s in ours. Critics often focus on the damning extent to which Greek life controls us, but I would argue we, as a student body, control it far more. What we recognize, celebrate and allow influences this campus’ culture more than any administrative decision ever could.
I haven’t rushed yet. This entire piece is a precarious act of speculation, built on a year of watching from the periphery and conversations with my affiliated friends. The thing about exclusivity is that it will be loved by people who are “in” and criticized by those who are not, and my class is now at the cusp. I don’t know if I’ll have a different perspective after this fall, but I hope I’ll still believe this: our worth here isn’t defined by where we end up, or whether we end up anywhere at all.
Rohan Taneja is a member of the Class of 2028 and an opinion columnist for The Dartmouth. Opinion articles represent the views of their author(s), which are not necessarily those of The Dartmouth.
