That's how an old friend of mine used to sing The Guess Who's classic "American Woman" way back when we were young and thin(ner) and in college. And whenever I mention I belonged to a sorority, I get that look and sometimes a snide remark. When I read about the recent DePauw brouhaha (see Susie Bright's discussion, among others), I am reminded of exactly why many of us view sororities with derision.
My experience was very different, in part because our chapter was dying. Yup, it went tits up the year I was away discovering true lesbianhood in Eugene, between my sophomore and junior years. (And no, this wasn't because I abandoned ship, though I felt guilty about the huge workload my friends were grappling with in my absence.) We were an interesting assortment of individuals, so interesting that my coming out barely caused a ripple. That's how cool those women were, and are.
We actually had what I think sororities set out to create in the very beginning: a cohesive support group for young women facing the challenges of higher education. Along the way, sororities turned into institutionalized heterosexual mating rituals--"mixers" with fraternities and organized blind-date nights. In addition, we were at a small college where intellectual activity was a given (though sexist double standards continued to be a problem). Sorority life was a social network rather than a way of being.
And here's what I want to say: I don't think sororities are a great idea. (I was in fact highly resistant to joining one in the first place.) Often they're mechanisms for enforcing the worst of heterosexist culture, as in the case of the DePauw group. But I don't want to forget what they can offer at their best, the same thing that many strong social and political organizations offer college students: an opportunity to really get to know folks you might not otherwise have met. To communicate across disciplines and geographical differences. And to establish friendships for a lifetime.
LITB
My experience was very different, in part because our chapter was dying. Yup, it went tits up the year I was away discovering true lesbianhood in Eugene, between my sophomore and junior years. (And no, this wasn't because I abandoned ship, though I felt guilty about the huge workload my friends were grappling with in my absence.) We were an interesting assortment of individuals, so interesting that my coming out barely caused a ripple. That's how cool those women were, and are.
We actually had what I think sororities set out to create in the very beginning: a cohesive support group for young women facing the challenges of higher education. Along the way, sororities turned into institutionalized heterosexual mating rituals--"mixers" with fraternities and organized blind-date nights. In addition, we were at a small college where intellectual activity was a given (though sexist double standards continued to be a problem). Sorority life was a social network rather than a way of being.
And here's what I want to say: I don't think sororities are a great idea. (I was in fact highly resistant to joining one in the first place.) Often they're mechanisms for enforcing the worst of heterosexist culture, as in the case of the DePauw group. But I don't want to forget what they can offer at their best, the same thing that many strong social and political organizations offer college students: an opportunity to really get to know folks you might not otherwise have met. To communicate across disciplines and geographical differences. And to establish friendships for a lifetime.
LITB
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment