
At far right; DZ alum Pat Priest!
This article rings eerily familar to me, because at my university, I was the one who broke our Delta Zeta chapter; the last woman recruited and admitted before the national organization shut it down. (I kind of take pride in that, although the chapter would’ve been shut down whether I’d joined or not).
I never had any interest in sororities when I was “rushed” by DZ; but it was full of women I knew and admired, smart, straight-A types. And yeah, some of them were overweight, or butch, or just not the bowhead sorority type. That’s why I joined. That’s why I put up with the exorbitant fees, the asinine social events (dances, balls, cutesy-pie fundraisers), the ridiculous initiation (learning DZ history, memorizing the founding members and being quizzed, for god sakes, and learning a secret handshake–sorry, nothing more exciting than that), the sneering of other Greeks on campus who thought of us as rejects. (whereas we thought of them as airheads, with a few exceptions). The stupid colors (pink and green) and mascot (turtle) which we were supposed to decorate ourselves with on various occasions. I liked the girls, who were funny and sarcastic and weird and supportive. I could put up with pink and green turtles if I had to.
But it was a bad fit, Geek and Greek, at least if you were a woman. We had the highest GPA of any sorority on our campus; we raised money for good causes; we paid our dues. But we weren’t big enough, and we weren’t bringing in enough money, and in the end, that did us in.
Social sororities are nothing but money-sucking organizations that claim to be dedicated to vague goals of do-gooding and sisterhood, but are not really about anything but the dues. They sell exclusivity, based on a code of looks and behavior straight out of the 1950s, which was the last time they were truly powerful. The girls in our group, like those in the NYT article, tried to change that, to make them about the ideals sprinkled throughout their literature, of upstanding behavior, sisterly support, community involvement, and fun. We thought it would work, because we were naive and young and took what we were told at face value. And so we got closed down.
We might have simply had some members booted, like the girls in the article, but to be honest, almost all of us were “socially awkward” by Greek standards; it’s hard not to be when you’re a woman who’s a math major, or a history major, or Hispanic, or wear glasses, or stand 5’11″ or 5’1″, or throw a killer softball, or regularly kick guys’ asses at chess. Hardly any of us had boyfriends; most of us didn’t care, except when another stupid social rolled around and we had to scare up a date. We didn’t pair up with frats often, because most of them were assholes; we preferred the computer geek, D&D-playing guys who were our friends.
Some of us were closeted lesbians; one girl left for that reason, because coming out would probably have gotten her booted.
In the end, we were like girls who believe that beauty pageants really are about awarding scholarships, and not about boobs and butts. It’s astonishing that we lasted as long as we did.
So they took our charter, that had been in place at our university for most of the century, and booted us from our campus digs, and another sorority was chosen by the university to come in and replace us. We were told by National that all dues we’d paid were non-refundable, and supposedly under the control of our local alumnae. But National didn’t count on our math major treasurer; with a little bit of book-cooking, she got the money out of the bank before it could be sent off–and we threw a killer party. Several bits of accumulated sorority furniture and appliances also mysteriously disappeared from our room before anyone from National could come claim them. Strange, that. Don’t know what happened to them!
The writing is on the wall for DZ and other social greek organizations, when it comes to recruiting the true best and brightest. Coed fraternities and service fraternities were making a huge impact on my campus when I left, because they cared more about what you did than who you were and looked just as good on a resume. They did not require you to be a bimbette or let frats grope you at parties. They did not care if you were a “legacy” whose mother or father had been a member.
And that’s the way it needs to be.