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Old Gold & Black

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Old Gold & Black

Old Gold & Black

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Message From A Fallen Goddess

Message+From+A+Fallen+Goddess

Speaking on the Greek experience, but I’m sure your sisterhood is the exception

Some background on my Greek experience: I went through sorority recruitment my freshman year, got a bid, then felt the regret set in. Being the team player I was, I slapped the awe-inspiring “Attended weekly meetings” and “Contributed to philanthropy event” bullets on my resume for multiple semesters before finally dropping. 

If you hated it so much, why didn’t you drop sooner? Fair point. 

Greek Life feels like a necessity to the Wofford experience being that half our student body goes Greek, but it’s 2021—cults just aren’t that exciting anymore. Before jumping into the arms of Greek Life, you should pause and take a closer look at what you’re jumping into. 

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Think first of how you found your first friend at Wofford. Was it from the calculated draw of a bump group, forbidden to discuss booze, boys, or the Bible? Odds are you were already in the works of making lifelong friendships before recruitment without the constrained conversations that make you forget what it’s like to be authentic.

It’s an interview disguised as casual conversation where freshmen sink or swim. You can put your best foot forward and still get dropped. 

It may not seem like a big deal when put this way, but tell that to the girls who cry their eyes out after not receiving the bid they want. There’s nothing like preparing young adults for the disappointment of the real world by crushing their self-esteem when they don’t get accepted into the ‘right’ social club.

Granted, there is practically no level of attention that comes close to that received by a freshman during their first semester at Wofford from Greeks. Freshmen receive invites to all the events and hangouts and even get—don’t tell Standards—free beer. (It would be silly not to mention the incredible double standard between the sorority and fraternity recruitment process. At least sororities serve dessert…).

I remember running out on bid day, getting a shirt thrown over my head, hugged, and then released into a crowd of wide-eyed freshmen. I thought to myself, “So…all these girls must be my friend now?” What I think I was looking for was “sisterhood”, a noun that, to me personally, came to mean: obligatory interactions where you might find a friend to complain with about said organization. 

Of course, many Greeks do find some form of comradery in shared experiences and values, though these experiences have strayed far beyond what the founders had in mind, as their values diminish into words you merely repeat in ritual rather than something you actually embody. 

Let’s be honest, when did you get to know these sisters best? Was it when you were crafting Christmas cards for patients or serving sweet tea and burgers at your philanthropy fundraiser that really drove home your lasting bond? Was it when you were voting to kick a sister out because of a social media violation? Or was it when you were swiping through a slideshow vetting girls that you didn’t even know? 

Speaking for myself, the best times I had with my sisters were nights my sorority would never dare advertise, though I can’t exactly say the same for fraternities (again, double standard anyone? Someone give me a cigarette already!). 

There are those sisters who’ll happily hold your hair back in the Wild Wings bathroom stall, and there are those who’ll snatch you off the dancefloor the moment your steps start to falter. I honestly can’t blame them either; after all, we have a standard to uphold. If I wanted to drink without consequences I would’ve joined a fraternity.

I can’t just join any fraternity, though. Reputation is a vital part of Greek organizations, and I only want to join the best. All I have to do is visit GreekRank.com to see people with nothing better to do than virtually rank organizations based on subjective opinions. But alas, it’s the burden of scrutiny all Greeks must endure (sororities and fraternities alike! Finally some equality!).

It feels great for your organization to be called “genuine” and “down to earth” but not as fun when you’re called “gold-diggers” or “Puritan Jesus-freaks”. I miss the old days of trash-talking people individually, acknowledging that a group is more than just one bad apple. Unfortunately, that’s not how Greek Life functions. Just ask Chapel Hill and their Carolina blue-clad drug lords when they get out of prison.

Each organization looks great on paper—good GPAs, leadership, character, sexism—but what you’re really inheriting is the burden of a system ridden with scandal and absurd social practices that perpetuate exclusivity and a baseless superiority complex. This is all to say: think before you accept that bid day card—or even show up for that matter.

Anonymous

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