An even distribution of mascara, lip gloss, and eyeliner align my face. The curls I spent hours tussling and teasing shield my overly whitened smile. I’ve armed myself in new preppy, pastel garb and dozens of Alex and Ani bangles. I’m preparing for a battle and the cause I’m fighting for is to be accepted. I feel ready. I mean, I definitely look the part, yet I’m still very uncomfortable. Perhaps this just isn’t for me. This was how I felt during my weekend of sorority recruitment.
I never thought I would be the “type” of girl to join a sorority. I’m no Elle Woods. I’m not blonde, wealthy, super peppy, or any of the other stereotypes that people associate with sorority sisters. This isn’t to say that all sorority girls are like this. In fact, most girls I met during the rush process did not embody any of these stereotypes. But throughout the rush process, I felt very out of place because I felt that I didn’t fit the mold for what the sororities looked for.
But even though I didn’t think I would ever fit in, I always felt like there was extra pressure that I should make an effort to. Every time I thought of a reason not to rush, someone or something else gave me a reason why I should. “Sororities are a great way to make friends with upperclassmen”; “Sororities give you great professional networking connections”; “There’s nothing like a sisterhood”.
“Sisterhood”—this was a word that girls repeated often this weekend. Each sorority seemed to have its own definition of the word. But some questions that repeatedly came up for me were: what a sisterhood to me, why should they have to be so exclusive and similar, and why did I want to join one?
Columbia is a big place and I’m still trying to find my place here. I thought that joining a sorority would make my community seem smaller. Ironically, the same exclusivity that brought me to Columbia also allured me to the depths of Greek life—the ever-lustful element of competition. I began seeking out organizations not because I fit them well but because they seemed to be the most selective.
The way rush works is similar to speed dating, except instead of interviewing for love, you’re interviewing for “sisterhood”. You sit down with three or more sisters within a fifteen period and within five minutes you have to convince her to like you. Throughout this process I felt like less of a person and more of a body. With such little time to interact, you’re more likely to be valued for your presentation than your conversation. I wanted to belong, so I did what I could to fit in. I felt pressured to change myself in order to fit in with a group instead of finding a group that I fit. I began to notice how other people saw me, how I spoke, what I wore, what I said, what my interests were, I cringe to even admit that I even changed my Facebook profile and cover photos to seem more sorority-like.
Opinions on sorority recruitment filled every topic of conversation this weekend. This weekend changed the way girls behaved around other girls. When girls were rejected from certain organizations, they often questioned their own value. I often heard girls say, “ What’s wrong with me? Why don’t people like me?” I regularly heard derogatory terms like “sluts”, “hot,” “bitchy,” “privileged,” “superficial,” and “stupid” to describe other women. I too found myself comparing myself to other girls, engaging in trash talk, and sizing girls up based on their appearance. This behavior terrified me. Women already have to go through so much objectification from men. What frustrated me the most about rushing was the idea that you would have to undergo the same objectification in order to join a sisterhood.
Greek life is not at all for everyone, it most certainly wasn’t for me. I walked into Greek life with an open mind, hopeful that I would find a sisterhood and a family to accept me in my new home. I left feeling fortunate enough to realize that I had already found that amongst my friends.