Meharry Hall was quieter than I expected on the afternoon of Saturday, Jan. 24, as dozens of potential new sorority members sat anxiously among the rows of wooden pews. Even without a rule of “strict silence”—imposed on Preference Round to prevent our friends from swaying our decisions—I think the loudest sounds would have still been the nervous tapping of stilettos on the floor, the square breathing, the beating hearts.
I hadn’t planned to rush. As an introvert and only child, the concept of living in a house full of strangers was not just intimidating but mortifying. Moreover, the idea of being evaluated in secret by people I had just met felt downright offensive. As I waited for my turn to visit my last two houses, Delta Gamma and Alpha Chi Omega, I questioned again whether this was what I really wanted. Is this all too much for me to handle? Will people see me for who I really am? Will I belong?
Throughout my life, I’ve had an uneasy relationship with belonging. Exclusion and rejection, as universal as they are, have particularly shaped how I approach group scenarios, and my fear that those instincts would be reactivated proved real as I progressed through formal recruitment. I wasn’t sure if what I thought of as “likability” would be something I would continually have to perform even after being accepted, assuming I was accepted.
On the first and most fast-paced round of recruitment, Sisterhood Round, I found myself surprised by the authenticity of the conversations I had at each house. Meeting so many women of different backgrounds and personalities felt refreshing, empowering and even energizing. Philanthropy Round began the onslaught of happy tears, as I began connecting with women on a deeper, more values-centered level. I remember how illuminating my conversations that day were, as I started realizing, through other people, parts of my personality and my values that I had never before considered.
Then, the snow began to fall. Despite how fulfilling the last two days had felt, the physical and social exhaustion of the week started to catch up with me, and in my restless attempt to sleep the night before Preference Round, I wondered, yet again, why I was rushing at all.
It’s funny: I can’t remember exactly when or why I made the decision to sign up for recruitment, but I remember knowing that no matter where I ended up, this would be a process that would change my life forever. I like to think that I’m someone who embraces change in my life. At the same time, change can be absolutely terrifying, especially at a time in life and the world when every day feels unpredictable. I think part of my fear before and during the process came from the vulnerability of knowing that I, someone fiercely independent, was opening myself up to be evaluated and changed by other people.
On the day of Preference Round, I knew I had a difficult choice in front of me. I had finally allowed myself to trust that the connections I was making were genuine, and after thinking I wouldn’t belong in any sorority, I was now torn between two. In the end, I “ran home” through the foot-deep snow to Delta Gamma. And it feels like home, a place where I can finally decompress and allow myself to embrace the love and authenticity around me.
However, recruitment certainly isn’t for everyone. Being honest, I thought it might break me. Beyond the excitement, it is a reminder of the discomfort of vulnerability and an illustration of how institutions shape us in secrecy. It is a microcosm of larger social hierarchies with its own histories, problems and contradictions. For me, recruitment was also a lesson in growth.
On the other side of it all, I can say that I didn’t surrender my independence. I just learned through it. I’m slowly learning that feeling vulnerable doesn’t mean losing myself, that individuality can coexist with sisterhood and that sometimes it takes participating in something I would have never imagined myself doing to find out about where my real values are. After all, it takes being part of something larger than yourself to make change within it, and by letting myself be part of a sisterhood, I let it change me, too.
