Dirty Rush to Plague Greek Life

Get ready for the dirtiest rush season in living memory. A number of factors have converged to ensure that this semester will be full of IFC violations, secret gatherings, extended social probations, and a lot trash pickup for Sewanee's fraternity men. Police and deans can expect to find themselves using their powers against genuine offenders, as well as being used by rival factions to dash one another's ambitions. The most important factor in all of this is the significant number of the larger fraternities that are off-campus this semester. While it is illegal for them to do so, their survival depends on continuing to rush; so they will. While smaller fraternities can remember years when they had no freshmen pledges, most University Ave. fraternities can't.

The economy, believe it or not, exacerbates the problem. Not only are there fewer students with the spare cash to pay fraternity dues, with funds depleted by fines to the University or to their national organizations, fraternities will bow to cheaper methods of hosting parties. Unfortunately for them, the two cheapest ways to provide alcohol are liquor and kegs of beer, both of which are prohibited. The result: University Ave. fraternities will host private liquor parties without paying for a bartender, creating the most dangerous situation possible for inexperienced drinkers. Off-campus rush events will be minimized, as they are inevitably more expensive, leading to more risk, more secrecy, and ultimately, more violations.

As much as this is a heads-up to the community, it's also meant to be a reminder to the police and deans: in competitive times like these, fraternities will attempt to manipulate you for their own interests. Senior Teddy Pistiokos remembers when, last year, a freshman rushing another fraternity submitted an official complaint about some furniture that had been temporarily moved behind Delt during house-cleanup, "He cited the chapter and line number of the trash-violation rule in the handbook, and then quoted it. The police were mildly amused that someone was trying to do their job for them." Similarly, the anonymous, on-line submission form for hazing tip-offs is also open to abuse, insofar as it can provide probable cause for the investigation of an organization. Not only can the complaints be made anonymously, they can be made from anywhere in the world, and thus by potentially by non-students or people who are no longer, or never were, bound by the Honor Code. Testimony before the IFC often permits hearsay and circumstantial evidence, and pits conflicting interests against each other at moments of crucial decision making. The Chairs of the IFC have a disproportionately large influence on the way that such hearings are conducted, and will always try to keep to keep the heat off of their own organizations. Dean Bruce is currently searching for a replacement (and may we recommend 2009's Advisor of the Year, Will Haight?), and the transition will inevitably create a moment of weakness for the system of punishments and rewards, checks and balances. It will at least give a few organizations a cleaner slate.

There are creative work-arounds, of course, that properly self-interested fraternities will use to keep afloat during these tough political and economic times. If you are lucky enough to have a party-barn, like Phi, you can host - rather, a sorority can host - a party at your place, even though you're off campus. For the rest of us, rush will require more than just walking up and down our dorm hallways inviting freshmen to the house. We'll need to be involved in campus activities and sports, drinking societies, and SOP trips. When Beta's party rocked the pants off Mitchell Avenue on Shake Day this year, a party-monitor stepped away from the door to go to the bathroom and someone pulled the fire-alarm right behind him. It could have been sabotage, but combined with some other vandalism and the fact that there's no such thing as "bumping" a fire alarm, there certainly wasn't a fire. As I stood outside Beta, inattentive to the pulse of the flashing lights, I realized that even the prospect of a $500 fine didn't provide enough deterrence for the saboteur. A fifteen-minute exodus from the building and fire-inspection ensued, but luckily, the party kept right on kicking when the band came back with "Shout." This semester, the kids will all be asking "Did you hear about the party on University Ave?" A little bit softer now... a little bit softer now...