Okay, I admit it - I'm a sorority chick. Though I'm not an anorexic, superficial snob who only travels in a pack looking for a frat boy to hook up with, I must confess to owning a pair of the ubiquitous sorority girl black pants. In contrast with general conceptions to the contrary, I'm pretty sure that not all sorority sisters at Tufts are ditsy, vapid clones who are so desperate to find a social niche that they must write out a check every semester to find friends. Of course, it's certainly possible that this description may prove to be an accurate portrait of certain individuals. However, to say that the sorority system forces its members to conform to this mold is blatantly untrue.
For me to universally criticize those who mock my fellow sorority chicks would be hypocritical. For my first three semesters at Tufts, I amused myself greatly by mocking the Greek system as a whole. Preying on the sorority system was especially easy. Snickering at hordes of sisters clinging to each other in the dining hall or picking apart Viewpoints claiming that sororities do not foster exclusivity or cliquishness just came so easily to me. How could I not ridicule a group of women standing in a clump with the same Greek letters splashed across their chests while they simultaneously alleged to be a group of individuals?
Then the guilt began to set in. Yes, I was friendly with a bunch of girls in all of the three houses at Tufts. And yes, none of these acquaintances struck me as insipid bimbos. I didn't actually know the first thing about these organizations besides the bad reputation perpetuated by my fellow unaffiliated people. So to alleviate my guilt (as well as to find new material to mock), I decided to rush as a second semester sophomore. I would go through rush, affirm that all of my preconceptions were accurate and then return to my group of friends armed with new, fun stories further proving that sorority chicks are a waste of the world's oxygen supply.
Little did I suspect that my brilliant plan would go awry. I was sure that all the insincere fluffiness about sisterhood that would be spewed at rushees would cement my decision not to pledge. Even if I did pledge, all the criticism and mockery from my friends would surely bring about my demise. My roommate had even jokingly made me sign a statement promising that I would never join the one house that was the predominant subject of our ridicule.
In short, I wound up sticking with Rush, sticking with pledging and ultimately sticking around as a sister. All along the way, I was continually surprised (and, indeed, continue to be surprised) with the wide breadth of distinct individuals that the sorority system encompasses. From athletes, musicians and campus activists in all three houses on this campus to the diverse assortment of sisters and alumnae I've met from my house's various chapters across the country, I'm continually reminded that the stereotype of the scantily-clad, flakey sorority chick is just that - a stereotype, not a statement of fact.
So what exactly was it that turned me, the former naysayer into a letter-wearing sister proud enough of her house affiliation that I felt compelled to write this Viewpoint? Without doubt, my decision to write this piece will likely elicit snickering and criticism from those to who are satisfied with lumping sorority sisters into the "stupid and useless" category. To be perfectly honest, one of primary reasons for sticking with pledging had more to do with a persistent curiosity rather than a desire to bond with the rest of my pledge class. But then as the process continued, I discovered that I genuinely liked my fellow pledges and sisters-to-be. But perhaps an even more compelling reason to stay was the recognition that my preconceived ideas regarding the nature of sororities were untrue and based on nothing but the "information" of other uninformed individuals. For once, it was nice to see that I had no idea what I was talking about.
Yet the mocking of sorority chicks will certainly continue. Admittedly, the world will probably not spin off its axis the next time someone asks me if my sisters have to OK my outfit before I leave my room in the morning. However, it is frustrating that so many people (myself included) are willing and even eager to cast judgment about another person simply based on a label about which they know nothing. In any case, I have to wrap things up. I'm late for the weekly sorority pillowfight.
Dena Sloan is a senior majoring in international relations and French. She is viewpoints editor for The Tufts Daily.
