Everywhere you go on campus you can see them. You can’t walk outside your residence hall without seeing them. They travel in ranks. They are uniform in attire. Singular in their shared goal, they emulate a small, unorthodox army. This army has invaded campus and spread out. I, of course, am referring to the women rushing for sororities.
These women wake up early every morning (after staying up late every night) and make their way to Jesse Hall. Once there, they must line up in alphabetical order, only to have air horns blown in their faces to wake them up. After morning meetings, they walk together to Greektown. Nerves immediately set in upon arrival. Anxiously they wait, like prey coming face-to-face with predator, expecting vivacious, pastel-clad sisters to come and greet them. The house begins to look like an overstuffed package bursting at the seams as sorority members spill forth from all orifices of the building. Out of doors and windows they flood the lawn, reciting something akin to a Gregorian chant. The timid women wonder what it is they have gotten themselves into. This wasn’t the image that society had promised. This wasn’t a fun club of women they could party with. This was a cutthroat, competitive cult.
When I picture sorority rushing, a few things come to mind: parties, promiscuity and “Neighbors 2”. To my surprise, none of these stereotypes were displayed this entire week. In fact, quite the opposite. Sororities are strict. Their rules and regulations must be followed to a T, and if you diverge from them, you’ll get the boot.
The first and most blatantly wrong thing that I assumed was that rush week is full to the brim with partying. The plain and simple fact is that if you are caught drinking or doing drugs, you’re out. No excuses, no exceptions. None of those mobs of women you see shuffling weary-eyed around campus have been able to touch a drop of alcohol during this process. So no, they aren’t hungover.
The next thing I assumed was that all these women were in search of flings with the fraternity boys on campus. That is the way it is often portrayed by the media. In reality, if you set foot on fraternity ground or spend the night with a fraternity member, you’re blacklisted. They’re walking to Jesse for meetings in the morning; they aren’t doing the walk of shame.
The thing that caught me most off guard was that GPA is a huge determinant in the rush process. If your GPA is below a 3.5, your sorority options will be limited. They do care about grades; they have to. Overall, your behavior has to be that of a model college student.
To get into a sorority, you have to undergo the equivalent of a job interview with them. Picture speed dating mixed with “The Bachelor,” except you’re competing against about 1,500 other people. These conversations can range from the sorority’s philanthropic work to teary-eyed woes of homesickness to how rainbow goldfish are slightly puffier than regular goldfish and therefore superior. Either way, you have to prove your worth in these conversations.
I admire these women. As a freshman male on the shy side, I’m absolutely terrified of them, but I admire their commitment. They give up the end of their summer for a weeklong job interview, knowing that most of them won’t even make it into a sorority. Regardless of if you make it, you will benefit from this week. Whether it be making new friends, getting to know campus or just getting a head start on college life, there is something for everyone to take away.
