At a school where Overheards are frequently identified by Greek affiliation, where a frat and sorority hierarchy is unfortunate but very real and where nearly every campus-wide controversy is related to the Greek system, the experience of being unaffiliated is hard to imagine for most. Indeed, in some eyes it's not even seen as a real contingency. As a freshman it didn't occur to me that there were social options beyond the DOC or a sorority I wish I had seen Dartmouth's social life for everything it is and everything it's hiding before dragging myself through rush. Women of the Class of 2014: Dartmouth is not so black and white.
As I try to formulate "real talk" about being an unaffiliated woman at Dartmouth, the first thing that must be said is that this is a tragic misnomer. It makes it sound like the person in question must be an extra, a random addition, a floating and entirely disconnected entity. Many of my friends who rushed and joined houses justified their decision by saying that they yearned for the sense of community they had on their freshman floors. Though that kind of closeness is much harder to find on an upperclass floor, there are alternatives. We all have multiple affiliations at Dartmouth whether or not a Greek house is among them and from these we derive that sense of unity. I'm a member of the Dog Day Players and I live in an affinity house for people who like food. This term I'm a Hanover FSPer, I'm a Sanborn sleeper, I'm a former Raunerite and I'm a nature writer and painter. (I used to be a DinerTour-er, but it's just too cold this term.) Even if your affiliation of choice doesn't have a physical plant or control over the flow of alcohol, it can still be the source of what we all really want a sense of place.
In addition to my fear of not having a place, I was initially weirded out by the ubiquity of tails events and worried that not having them would cripple any semblance of a social life. But I quickly realized this fear was unfounded on so many fronts. First of all, anyone can drink, and everyone who wants to does. Almost every organization on campus has some sort of outlet. Dog Day does power hours. Foley-ites drink wine out of mugs (and we recently tried to brew our own beer). Cabin and Trail does "Beer Club," and the list goes on. On the other hand, if you do want to go to tails and they can be fun! there is nothing stopping you. I've found that if you know at least one guy or girl in attendance, no one cares. Literally no one cares, or they are too drunk to care or they are happy to see you. And at a small school like Dartmouth, it's highly probable that you'll have no problem finding a friend in the basement.
And what of formals? Greek formals are pretty fun, and a bit more difficult to arrange on your own if you're not part of an organization with a budget. I'm lucky that Dog Day has its own formal a swashbuckling affair that is generally the high point of my term so I can't honestly speak to what it feels like to not have your own formals to go to. But that doesn't mean you can't go to them indeed, all it means is that you don't have to pay for whichever formals you do attend. Every Greek member needs a date (or five, as my friend did for her semi), so formals aren't a membership-only commodity.
There is also the question of meetings. In the one hour per week that I don't spend drinking with sorority sisters, I can still 1) drink with a group of friends, 2) clean out my iTunes library, 3) take an extra shower, 4) watch Glee or 5) do whatever else feels good at the moment. Going out an hour later than everyone else, one day per week, really isn't as tragic as it sounds. Plus, unaffiliated meetings are alive and kicking, and through them I've met interesting people who I never would have crossed paths with otherwise.
Beyond all of the Greek-based events, my biggest fear prior to rush was perception. Even though Panhell will insist that Dartmouth has "so many amazing women" and that every sorority is "an amazing sisterhood," stereotyping sororities is still pretty common, and most of the stereotypes are sweeping and negative. (Panhell also assumes that everyone who dropped out of rush is dying to do it again, which is why the "F*ck You" song attachment, sent in response to a winter rush blitz this year, was probably the best reply-all to ever come of an unrepressed recipient list consisting mainly of fall rush dropouts.) So what happens if you aren't one of those amazing girls in that amazing sisterhood?
It's weird when someone asks for your house, and you tell them you don't have one. Most people don't know how to respond, because they don't know what to assume about you. Therein lies your triumph you've managed to escape the subtle assumption-making that takes place within the first few seconds of a conversation. From there you can go anywhere, you can build your own character and you can be yourself and no one can say anything about it, because you were never put in a box to begin with.
There are, of course, the sad few who assume that you are in need of something because you aren't in a house, and these are the ones who'll tell you to "just rush in the winter because it's a lot easier." I have had an alum and current college employee advise me to "just join a co-ed." If you already have what you need friendships, a sense of belonging, a support system you do not need to join an organization. Telling people to rush when it's "easier" or to "just join a co-ed" is rude. The first statement insinuates that winter rushees aren't as capable as fall rushees, and the second statement robs co-ed organizations of their own appeal. The idea that organizational affiliation is an absolute must in order to be happy at Dartmouth is still widely held, but it just doesn't make sense.
I guess it's because we are all after the same things. Forgive me for being an econ major, but happiness at Dartmouth is a noncompetitive good. People can listen to the same music and dance on the same bench and enjoy themselves immensely without detracting from others' experiences.
You do not need to subscribe to the membership in order to enjoy the scene. You do not need to do what 60-something percent of Dartmouth girls do you do not need to rush, and you certainly do not need to rush twice. You do not need a hundred sisters when a handful of good friends will serve you just as well.
It doesn't matter who's paying for what or who has the door code, because at the end of the night, we drink from the same keg and hold those doors open for friends and strangers alike.
We all want the same things from Dartmouth fun, self-actualization and meaningful relationships and as long as you are committed to finding those things for yourself and help create them for other people, you can be happy here, lettered or not.
