Sorority Reunion: A Review

When I was in college, quite possibly the most defining experience of my matriculation was my time as a sister in a sorority. I held a number of offices in my sorority, most notably of which was chapter president. My time in the sorority was filled with ups and downs, uppers and downers, best friends, bitches, beer bongs, water bongs, date parties, scholastic requirements, highs and highs and lows. It was an awful, wonderful, exciting, depressing experience, but it largely shaped who I am and defined my college experience.

That being said, this weekend was my chapter's anniversary, and so, I made the trek back to Ye Olde University (sans Punky, thanks to the almighty Grandparents!) to hopefully see my old friends (whose lives I have faithfully stalked thanks to Facebook), relive some old memories, and spin my tales and wealth of knowledge for currently active members. I packed bags, I planned, I coordinated my outfit, I spent an hour on my hair, and I looked hot.

I arrived for a brunch this morning, which I paid $25 for, and arrived to realize that it was pretty much the same atmosphere as a timeshare seminar (which I have also done). It was a call to alums to come and donate money to the chapter.

I can understand the need for alum support in a chapter. I really, really do get that. And I wouldn't really necessarily have a problem donating a bit here or there to the chapter if I knew it was going toward a beneficial cause, i.e., scholarship. Who am I kidding, I wouldn't really care if it was spent on a keg for a date party.

My issue, however, was this: there were no more than five current members at this brunch. Five. Out of a chapter of 70+. Five. The rest of the chapter couldn't be bothered to show up to a brunch where the plan was to appeal to alumnae to fork over some cash. I mean, shit, even Jerry Lewis gets some of the muscular dystrophy kids on his telethon. And as I sat there eating my $25 muffin and drinking my coffee, I found myself wondering: if the actives don't care, why the hell should I?

The whole thing was really irritating me, as I sat there listening to the presentation of how "in need" they are for alum support, when I looked down at my Dolce & Gabbana shoes, Express jeans, Tiffany bracelet, and Coach purse, all of which I'd carefully selected for status symbol purposes among people who would recognize it, and I realized.... this isn't me. Had I been six years ago, the person I am today, I would have run far and fast away from sorority rush that fall. I munching on my $25 muffin and realizing, "This is fucking lame." By "this," I don't just mean the begging and soliciting, I mean the whole damn thing.

Whenever I mentioned I had a daughter, there was the brief pause for a "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE!! A LEGACY!", and by the third or fourth time, as I was standing and thinking how ridiculous the whole thing and the whole institution was, I realized I really didn't care that my daughter is a legacy. If she goes to college someday and comes to me and tells me she's not interested in joining a sorority, I'm really okay with that. If she does want to join a sorority and not mine, I'm okay with that too. I almost really wish she wouldn't join one. Already at 14 months, I think she's above it.

I guess really, what happened today, was the closing of a chapter in my life. I came home, took the "SORORITY ALUMNA" license plate frame off my car, and tossed it in the same box in the basement as my Big Sister paddle and quilt of my old sorority t-shirts. I slammed the door shut to the storage room and to that chapter of my life, and scrambled back up the basement stairs to escape the bad memories, feelings of guilt, and spiders.

Mostly the spiders.