Chico State has a history for being known as a party school with a rich Greek life. However, since COVID, Greek life is struggling nationwide. While some view it as a frivolous popularity contest, keeping these support networks in place for students to build a safe social connection is often overlooked when examining scholarly success.
Time in between
I chose Chico based on pictures alone since it appeared to be the small college town I had always dreamed of. Upon arrival, I uncovered my subconscious denial of the crowning jewel of my collegian fantasy, which was being a “sorority girl.” Always deviating from the norm – tall, loud, DIY dyed hair, have metal in my face and absolutely refusing to conform out of principle alone – my family and friends were shocked I was even considering something so mainstream. Making professional impressions on employers and authority figures always came naturally to me, but within my peer groups, best case scenario my rebellious attitude only seemed to attract the fringes.
Playing sports growing up, I built my dependence on being part of a team for both internally building our bonds with each other, and holding an affiliation others recognized us for. Being the big, out of place, talks-too-much girl was justified in my identification as a varsity player. That validation pushed me into similarly pursuing student government because my “flaws” were now virtues that could be shaped into assets. In the latter case specifically, I could embrace my unabashedly weird creativity with the only bounds being appropriateness standards deemed by administration.
My insecure teenage mindset was that I was succeeding in these things despite my flaws yet still not enough to cover them, and in turn, myself up. I was a strong, fit, and adventurous student athlete from year round daily practice, games, and conditioning, but was ashamed for my broad shoulders not fitting into the Brandy Melville tops my teammates swore by. Years of bullying in my adolescence hindered me from following my instinctual agency to pursue organizing fun unconventional events, despite being given ample resources, because I didn’t have enough permission and validation from others before I even began.
My full potential within these two organizations were promptly squashed by a full globe shutdown, and with it, the confidence I was on the brink of finding. Losing the motivating factor to keep grades up left me testing out for my GED and being told I couldn’t walk on graduation day alongside all my classmates. I worked, admittedly too hard, to find my place, despite my lifelong dedication to involvement within the school community. I took a solitary gap year in the workforce, surrounded by groups outside of my peers (horseback lessons for families, veterans, and those with disabilities, trail rides in the desert for retirees, summer camps and behavior therapy surrounded by only kids). Once the world began to open back up, I craved being a part of something rather than looking in from the outside and wistfully observing. On a whim, I chose Chico because I figured if I couldn’t make it there, college just wasn’t in the books for me.
Finding My Place
Starting spring semester, I was immediately struck by the consequences of recruitment, being barraged with squeals through the dorm halls about bids and houses and formal. What did all of this mean (and why does it sound kind of fun)? All the while I struggled to find social footing through classes and freshman nightlife. Taking a gap year made it even harder because a year of outside experience furthered the disconnect. Missing the classic first week knocking on neighbors doors meant I lacked the crutch friend groups to satiate me until further into my college career where I would find my “real people,” at least according to personal testimony from friends and the social media “research” I did beforehand.
I was desperate to find a way to have fun in my free time, which required friends. Playing a sport again, I would have no trouble finding friends with the advantage of mandatory team bonding. My backup plan was to work for a student government adjacent school institution so I could engage my creativity in bringing communities together with the ultimate goal of attracting people I clicked with. Falling into my familiar school pattern after time away from education, I was desperate to fill my schedule with people. I played rugby for a month before realizing I couldn’t fully commit to dedicating my body to a sport again after losing the momentum of my past athletic career. After the realization that it would take a village to keep me enrolled and accountable, I needed social support that emphasized the importance of my academic performance.
The only option left was the craziest one; a sorority. I stalked Instagrams, Greek ranking sites, and kept an eye out on campus. I ended up joining the most alternative seeming group of women because I wouldn’t have fit anywhere else without compromising myself. Lost and at my lowest, I found myself welcomed with open arms. My sisters embrace me for the differences I had been shunned for. They’re social and fun girls that don’t fall into the rigid “sorority girl” box.
Girls in need of these institutions most are pushed out when they don’t bend themselves over backwards for unrealistic standards. Extremely expressive, fashion forward, creative and talented women that bring a lot to the table are overlooked, stepped over, or hindered. Our potential is smothered from social rejection despite how cool we really are. But, the freedom from judgment by any of those standards pushed me to embrace the best of myself without fear of the consequences. Even as I work to break my own glass ceiling, since we’re, as we say, always wearing our letters, our deviations from the norm add up to an overall negative reputation.
It was a breath of fresh air for my social spheres’ court of opinion to be based on virtue and not the aesthetic and sexual value women are usually measured on. Media advertises ways for women to appear appealing insidiously.
“Buy this and you could be this hot and desirable!” “Live for how people see you, and change every detail.” “Starve yourself to fit into this.” “Fillers and plastic surgery aren’t that disruptive to your biology.” “Wear absolutely nothing in the cold so you serve (and so men can gawk at your shivering silhouette as they dress weather appropriate.)” “Self care is buying, consuming and changing yourself.” “Clean girls only consume health blend juices and go the gym not to be strong, but to be snatched. Build that butt girl!”
Every identity of every woman faces subjugation (schoolgirl, stepmom, OnlyFans influencer, Karen) based in misunderstanding, dismissal, and objectification. Similarly, every modern organization of women are often inherently selling an image, a catalog of outfits and events that scream “don’t you want to be us?” While the increase in agency to pursue female only spaces is liberating, one of the most historic and groundbreaking is dismissed for being vapid and in pursuit of patriarchal validation. Perception is reality, and much of our Greek life lives online, along with all the other toxic beauty standards and body based trends. We care about how people see our associates because it impacts how they see us. Selfish in our pursuit for famed popularity which is an amplified method of people pleasing through fulfilling others expectations.
One of the biggest parts of Greek life is keeping a secret, which is an often overlooked life lesson. Those involved know to at least hold their tongue when face to face with us, but our true reputation spills out into the public since people do talk in a place as small as Chico. As a new member, even mentioning the house I accepted a bid from was met with scorn. Talking in passing with those uninvolved in Greek life, they spill kindly and reservedly about the not-so-nice things they have heard from whispers spread within the going out scene.
Being consistently kind despite any treatment we face requires a levelheadedness founded in negation of other’s shallow judgements in favor of focusing on building lasting relations. Social is the subtext between every other element. FSA stamps a guarantee on your forehead because of your affiliation. Any other label inspires similar assumptions of character, but we are unique in being based upon the weight these labels hold, for better or for worse; an exercise in identifying with something greater than yourself.
Is it true that all publicity is good publicity? We wear the stigma surrounding us as a badge of pride because together we dare to be unapologetically different. Our operations feel underground due to our position where all eyes are on us. Being true to our values together is infinitely more powerful than going through the motions, doing what we’re told everyone else is doing. Learning life lessons alongside them, a bone deep bond that usually takes years to build is accelerated by teamwork towards our common goal of creating a space for girls like us. I can never count on friends the same way I count on sisters because when life is hitting us unexpectedly, we are there to support each other unconditionally.
Believing in true inclusion is hard. All of us have that dark, judgemental, shallow side, but breaking free from judging other college women by that standard proved I could liberate myself from it. Remaining unique leaves strong impressions so that I never have to worry about blending together and losing my agency within my organization. My mindset has evolved. Positivity bleeds and attracts those who are inspired by the same ideals.
My sisterhood is not unique in the values we hold; rather most of these longstanding fraternities are built upon similar pillars. In our local ecosystem, we just have attracted those that are not valued as highly by an outdated system and continue our work to align with other Greek organizations and their members who judge based on character. Not assuming based on appearances alone is a two way street. Everyone affiliates themselves with a program in order grow as a person and make an impact within their greater college community. As an executive officer specifically, I have built professional relationships that result in personal recognition; as time goes on I discover allies in almost every corner. My confidence in my abilities eliminated the nervousness that felt so inevitable in my past.
Ultimately, despite all odds I am able to connect to the elements of individuals, namely fellow scholarly women, that are naturally held under wraps and often unseen. Being a girls’ girl is what it’s all about at the end of the day. Kind, silly, fun, and ever evolving towards shared progress. Always being the first to share a smile.