I still remember the afternoon during Bid Day of Spring Recruitment 2017. I had dropped recruitment the morning of Preference Day along with all my other friends, so we were hanging out in Arnold. As I walked back to my dorm, I remember hearing screams and music come from sorority row. I could imagine the scene that was occurring. However, I realized I wasn’t the only one returning to my dorm. I noticed girls who were dressed in Bid Day shirts walking back to their respective dorms with their heads lowered, shoulders drooping. I realized I wasn’t alone.
I will always regret the fact that I never ran home, screaming to all my new sisters waiting with excitement to welcome me into the sisterhood. However, I wouldn’t be in a sorority if I hadn’t left the recruitment process.
After the first day of recruitment, I thought I had it all figured out. The conversations went slowly in some houses but I thought others went really well. I told them all about the organizations I was involved in, what I did over winter break, and the general breakdown of who I had been before coming to SMU. The next day all but two houses cut me. I didn’t get it. How could these girls hold a 15-minute conversation and then say no to me? How am I so different from everyone else? Why didn’t they like me?
Before Recruitment I would hear things from other Potential New Members: they had gone on rush dates, gone to parties, gone to fundraisers with all of the sororities. I never did those things. If I had, would things have turned out differently? I didn’t think those things mattered because if a chapter wanted me, they should easily be able to see who I am. I’m me. What more could they ask for?
On the last day I only had one house left. But the doubt and the fear and the selfishness got to me. That house wasn’t good enough for me, and the other houses I deemed worthy didn’t want me back. With stupid, pitiful tears, I dropped out of the recruitment process.
SMU is a school that is small enough where I can safely say, everyone knows someone who knows you. And in a world where everyone knows everyone else, people really do tend to focus on the he-said-she-said. It’s also not a secret that SMU is notorious for a student body obsessed with their public image: you are only a composite of your social media, on campus-involvement and your obnoxiously long list of majors and minors. In my opinion, this environment is toxic. Before coming to SMU, I thought I was above all of that because what matters is who you are. After recruitment, I realized how blind I had been. I was only looking at what I had to gain from a perspective of this cultivated image, which completely refutes the purpose I hoped to find in a sorority.
Before Recruitment, my close friend— a Phi Mu at Alabama— told me, “Don’t be nervous! These girls want you just as much as you want them!” After I dropped the recruitment process, my best friend, an Alpha Tau Omega from UT Austin told me, “It doesn’t matter what letters you wear. What matters is that you wear letters.”
Immediately after that discussion with him, I made a decision.
It wasn’t as strong as a slap to the face or as easy as a light bulb going off. It was the decision to choose the people that had chosen me before recruitment started, during, and after I dropped. The sorority who really wanted me and cared for me, offered me an open bid— meaning I could still join their chapter after Rush, as long as initiation hadn’t occurred. If I didn’t like it, I could leave before initiation. It was the exact same sorority that I didn’t want to join, because I didn’t think they were good enough.
It was after initiation that I understood my mistake. I didn’t go into the recruitment process with an open mind at all. I was looking for the chapter that I thought was best: who presented themselves as smiling, happy girls with great personalities, outstanding grades and a strong presence on campus.
What I needed was a group of girls who loved me for me. Who would talk to me anytime of the day for whatever reason. They don’t care that I have quirks like watching British television, that I study a non-business major, that I only have 300 Instagram followers. In fact, they want to know all those things about me, because they want to know the real me as much as possible. They want to know if I’m really okay and if I’m not, they want to do everything they can to help me.
They don’t want me to dress, act or do whatever they need me to do. They just want me to be me. Because when we as members all feel included and vital, we come together to give back to the organization that gave us a home.
If I had continued the recruitment process, I would have run home to the chapter who were the only ones I needed to visit on Preference Day. I would have run to the girls who had gone out of their way to build relationships with me before I sent in a Recruitment application. I would have hugged the girl who cried when she found out I dropped the recruiting process. I could have, but I didn’t. All I can say is, it’s better late then never.
It’s been about a year since I joined; in all honesty, I made one of the best decisions of my college career. As time goes on, school gets harder and the future gets closer, but my sisters are my ride-or-dies: always there by my side willing to do whatever I need. I am now a part of an international organization that I will contribute to until I die. I love my chapter with all my heart.
Someday’s I contemplate becoming a Rho Gamma so I can help usher in the next pledge class for my chapter. But if I became a Rho Gamma, I would have to disaffiliate from my sorority. Whenever I ask myself this question, I always finish with a resounding, “No.” I could never disaffiliate because my letters mean the world to me. I can’t let them go.