The other night, I noticed that two friends, both ’15s, were missing from a group gathering. “Where are they?” “Busy.” “Society things?”
Sitting in class the day after, I didn’t feel terribly comfortable asking my friend how her meeting went. And doing so puts her in an uncomfortable place, because it’s supposed to be “secret.”
And that’s what frustrates me. It seems likely that if I didn’t know they were joining secret societies, my friends could keep their secrets, acting on the premise that what the rest of us didn’t know wouldn’t hurt us.
Except that’s not how it works. While our knowledge of any given situation allows us to react to that situation, it’s still the situation itself that triggers our emotions. If you get the stomach flu, it doesn’t hurt you because the doctor tells you that you have it; it hurts because you have the flu.
Quite simply, my desire to join a secret society will never supersede my desire to be inclusive in every social thing I do. To clarify, when I say “social,” I am referring to groups that exist solely for purposes of social interaction. I’m okay with exclusivity, provided it has a purpose. Our varsity sports teams would never get anywhere if they weren’t exclusive. My a cappella group would sound considerably worse were we to accept anyone on the premise of their simply wanting to be in an a cappella group. But I also ran an open, no-singing-ability-necessary a cappella group over sophomore summer — I think it’s important to provide people a place where they can participate because they want to.
Too often in life, we are limited because we lack qualifications. Social life should not be one of those occasions. But at Dartmouth, our conception of when it is acceptable to be socially exclusive is tremendously warped.
While the Greek system tries to be welcoming, dues still create classist divides that are only aggravated when members on financial aid must do extra chores to compensate for reduced dues. And even if it’s not meant to be so, the homogeneous makeup of most Greek houses can make students of color feel unwelcome or excluded.
This culture of social exclusion, driven by rush and society taps, is subconsciously perpetuated by the social connotations of many highly selective organizations on campus. While extracurricular activities exist that are open to anyone interested, the things considered “cool” or “A-side” often come with an application. There can be valid reasons for this selectivity, because these extracurriculars serve purposes outside of being social spaces, and students need certain qualifications to participate. But the idea that it’s “cool” to be involved in things like Dimensions, Ski Patrol, Trips or a performance group reinforces a deeper, more problematic idea – that in order to fit in, it is not enough to be yourself. You need to apply and be evaluated. You need to be chosen.
While selective, not-primarily-social organizations are not necessarily problematic in themselves, the social connotations that come along with membership directly contribute to how Dartmouth’s social culture is built on the pillars of exclusion. I sat and watched my relationships change sophomore year as many of my friends struggled through rush, and now I’m watching my friends get sucked into yet another exclusive system as they accept their taps for societies. A few weeks ago, five Panhellenic Council executives tried to make a statement decrying the unjust nature of the sorority rush process, and many women supported this statement. Yet these women who supported the Panhell boycott are inviting juniors into their societies as if there’s nothing wrong with being exclusive for the sake of exclusivity.
I don’t want to demean the work of the Panhell executives. I supported their decision and consider it a positive step toward making our social culture more inclusive. But if we really wanted to change the exclusivity that permeates Dartmouth’s social life, we would start by radically reforming social organizations that exclude people for no reason. We would start by ensuring that all of them are genuinely open to any student who wants to participate. Until we do that, we must accept that our relationships lie across and between the boundaries of unnecessary exclusion. If we continue subscribing to divisive social systems, then we must be prepared for our friendships — and campus cohesiveness — to suffer the consequences.
Jamie Mercado '15 is a guest columnist.
