But Still Homeless
NOT too long ago, I sat down at a carrel in the 1902 Room of Baker Library and began listing for this column all the funny little incidents that have gone in tow with the several sorority formals I have prepared for and attended. While I was sitting there, it occurred to me that there was a root to my story, a tale that needed telling more than the trauma of asking the male of my dreams to a Sadie Hawkins-style dinner dance. The root being that there are sororities at Dartmouth. Three of them, in fact. And after a shaky first step into the college community in the spring of 1977, they are forming a strong network with the help of - and sometimes despite - the fraternity system, the administration, and, I might add, the Board of Trustees.
Before I continue, I need to preface my observations with the remark that these are observations. I have never been an' officer of Sigma Kappa, my sorority. In fact, I have spent more time on the periphery of the organization than in the center. But after one or two periods of disillusionment and three years of sticking it out, I have grown to respect the members for putting up with endless flack, enduring rejection after rejection from the administration of their bids for sorority housing, and attempting to make sororities an option for all women.
My decision to join a social organization freshman year was based on my limited interaction with women at the College up to that time. My roommate was fortunate in that she played field hockey and had from that experience a corps of female friends. I had neither the foresight to try out nor the athletic ability to succeed that would have helped me find the same kind of niche. I also learned quickly that the basement of Heorot fraternity was not the place to strike up a conversation, let alone a friendship, with a fellow freshwoman. The women I met there were looking for other things. (Not that I blame them.)
The bid was extended by the sorority of my choice and I accepted, for better or worse, and promptly felt tugged by a "mainstream mentality" that consisted of, it seemed, co-sponsored parties with fraternities and little emphasis on sisterhood events. Of course, I went along, happy to be able to identify with a group. A hush fell over the sorority two years ago when several junior women and charter members depledged women who, in their strength, wisdom, belief, and courage, could have made major contributions to the group had the louder and more influential members been willing to listen and react positively to the ideas these women put forward.
Fortunately, the group took the loss as a lesson and began rebuilding in an effort to shape goals and create a more tolerant nay, congenial atmosphere for women in many facets of student life.
No one said it would be easy for a large group of women, somewhere between 75 and 100 at last count, to form some kind of cohesive identity. The greatest disadvantage is the fact that none of the three sororities has a house. Weekly meetings are held in conference rooms, in the basements of churches, or in Silsby Hall lounges. For me, it's been difficult to find a constancy about the group when "houseless meetings" and study breaks have been the only gatherings I could count on on a weekly basis. There can be only so much organizing of sisterhood events when there is no place to organize in.
There were lots of forces at work against us in the beginning which, had we not been so thick-skinned, could have destroyed any chances for a sorority system to work at Dartmouth. There were revolting distortions of the Sigma Kappa name that were well known and used tauntingly all over campus, and when Sigma Kappa stood up to sing the songs they had written for Hums 1977 they were booed.
Suddenly this fall of my last year at Dartmouth, I am jealous of the men and their fraternities, not just the structure of the houses but the familial nature of their existence. I wouldn't necessarily live in the house if we had one, but it would be a place to stop in and be sure of finding someone I knew to share a bottle of wine or commiserate with over an agonizing day.
This term I am living in the Outward Bound House with 12 other men and women as part of a three-month living and learning experience. Come December 10 or so I'll have to move out, but Housing still hasn't come up with a place for me. Beside the living problem, I'll miss the comforting feeling of living in a full house. It is frustrating to hear my male friends, those who belong to fraternities and are in the same housing predicament, saying, "Well, I can always live in the house."
The fraternity system has for all intents and purposes come to recognize the imbalance, and we now seem to have some
support. Last year, Sigma Kappa's president was elected vice president of the Interfraternity Council and thereby headed the I.F.C. Judiciary Committee.
Two years ago, the College set up a separate council for the sororities, the Panhellenic. From this council of a handful of sorority representatives there emerged a sorority rush system (sorority rush is separate from fraternity rush) that insured that all the places the sororities had to offer would be filled. In April, bids were extended by Sigma Kappa and Kappa Kappa Gamma (Alpha Chi Omega did not arrive until late spring), but no one except the Panhellenic representatives knew which sorority the rushees would be asked to join. In other words, no rushee was extended two bids. Still, there were some 40 women who rushed but were not given invitations to join either sorority. The need having been established, a third sorority, the national Alpha Chi Omega, arrived on campus in May.
Each new development seems to be leading sororities in a positive direction. Sigma Kappa is more noticeably a support group than it had seemed during its genesis. Certainly, the group has come to mean more to me than a once-a-term formal.
Even so, some day I will tell the story of how Jane sent her invitation via paper airplane to an unsuspecting fellow in a class of 400 students. It was a check-the-box type note with the choices being: I'd love to go; sorry, I'm busy that night; and what's the Sigma Kappa formal? Needless to say, in our preparation for the big night, one of us (I won't say which one for fear of embarrassing Jane) loosened up a little more than necessary and sparked the evening by toppling a four-foot-high flower pot. And then. . . .
