(Bid) day and (bid) night

Have y’all heard of sororities? Me too! Well it’s just about that time of year, so I know everyone’s ready for their favorite day of cheering, clapping, chanting and hand symbol group photos. Sorority bid day is right around the corner, and outside of the perhaps gratuitous noise that will be echoing from the Great Hall, Page Auditorium and the Main Quad in general, there will also be a good deal of stress, disappointment and self-pity.

Now, before everyone starts clamoring away on those comment boards, let me say something to reassure all you ladies. The commentary to be made within the body of this opinion piece concerns the process by which the national organizations and National Panhellenic Conference dictates recruitment must take place. It’s not you; it’s the people you have to listen to. Many of my best friends are in sororities, and the vast majority of them love their groups, love “fams” and their “littles.” For the most part, things couldn’t have worked out better for them. It should also be noted that apparently all of them have the best damn pledge class ever.

So what’s the big deal? I guess if it works out a majority of the time, then you can’t complain, but let’s just think conceptually about girls’ rush for a second. Six hundred-ish freshmen girls get dressed up in their not-quite-best attire (can’t look too dolled up) in order to traipse across campus with their “secret” upperclassmen leaders, so that they can go through a series of probably meaningless three-and-a-half minute conversations with all of the sororities on campus, who, it just so happens, came back to school early so they could decide on the themed outfits of their group small-talk sessions and practice “bumping,” or, passing girls along the line once they’ve already been adjudicated. After this, the upperclassmen get together and spend hours on end slicing and dicing their lists based on such vague expressions as “she’s just not a good fit for the house,” or “I think she’s a bit two-dimensional.” These predominantly empty statements are in turn based on the aforementioned brief conversations. Which mind you, cannot pertain to boys, money or, the most meaningful part of Duke social life, alcohol, thus becoming compulsory small talk, while the judgments are supplemented by hearsay of a girls supposed social tendencies. If, in the terrible circumstance you actually know a girl on a truly personal level, you are allowed to discuss her apparent “fit” in the house at length, however you are totally barred from conversing with her throughout the entirety of the recruitment process. This includes, God forbid, introducing her to friends so that more people can actually get to know one another. And finally, if that wasn’t a little too superficial for you, they throw it all into a big computer and out pops the best damn fam ever!

Look, I’m not claiming superiority in any sense. I went through guys’ rush, and golly I’ve learned there ain’t no way to get to know a person like pumping him through with some Natty and seeing how sweet he is at beer pong... but at least we stalk their Facebook profiles before we cut them! But in all seriousness, as flawed as the rush process for guys is, at least there is the opportunity for genuine social interaction. Pickup basketball games, watching football, and even car rides from “pregame” to “location of further drinking,” provide opportunities for genuine social engagement between freshmen and upperclassmen, on top of the meet and greets at parties and wholesale judgment of someone’s “chill bro who likes to get effed up” factor.

I guess what I’m saying is, I’m confused. And from a Jewish, liberal, New York elitist with a high opinion of his opinions (hence the soapbox we’re currently communicating through), that means a lot. But in any case, if actual interpersonal connections and interactions are anything like what they tell me they’re supposed to be in all those “Gilmore Girls” episodes, and Natalie Portman movies (yes, I actually saw these... Lorelei and whats-her-face, not so much), then the sorority recruitment process is about as genuine as my interest in Tim Tebow’s commitment to Jesus Christ. Again, I’m not saying it doesn’t work, and I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault, but take a second and really, really think about it. As everyone’s favorite writer Hank Moody once said, “I love women, I have all their albums,” but I feel like there’s probably a better way. Who knows what the hell that may be, and God and Tim Tebow know I don’t want to be the guy to figure it out, but I just wanted to put it all in perspective. And before you decide you hate everything this column will ever say, remember, it’s about promoting conversation, not pissing off sorority girls. Is that wrong? No one said otherwise.

David Rothschild is a Trinity junior. His column runs every other Thursday.