"There are a lot of us who say openly that we are feminist, but even when we don't, I think it's implied in our interactions," said Julia Wu, a Brown junior who is originally from Brazil. She recently hosted a "Lean In" workshop at her sorority, which she opened by telling the group, "There are more men named John than there are women who run companies in this country."
At Theta at Columbia, "sisterhood events" — monthly camaraderie-building gatherings that are typical of sororities — take the form of presidential debate watching parties and a recent alumni networking brunch. There is no "pomping" — a ritual that involves weaving tissue paper to create elaborate floats and displays. But there are mandatory workshops on sexual consent and bystander intervention.
"I grew up in the South, so going to college I never expected to be a part of a sorority because I did think it was antifeminist," said Blair Wilson, a Barnard sophomore. "But when I came to school, all the women I looked up to—those involved in student government, in sexual violence response, in different political groups—were involved."
Last year, as Columbia erupted in debate over Emma Sulkowicz — the young woman who carried a mattress around campus to pr otest the university's handling of her sexual assault complaint — members of the chapter signed their names to a donated mattress and carried it to a rally in support.
"We definitely still have to defend ourselves," said a Barnard sophomore, Ilina Odouard, a neuroscience and behavior major. "But I almost feel more into feminism after having joined Theta than going to Barnard."
Photo Blair Wilson, Barnard sophomore, economics and English Literature. Credit Dina Litovsky for The New York Times
Sororities did in fact begin as feminist organizations – a way for women, in the early days of coeducation, to band together inside hostile institutions. As the historian Diana Turk has chronicled in her book, "Bound by a Mighty Vow: Sisterhood and Women's Fraternities, 1870-1920," the first known Greek letter sorority — or "women's fraternity," as it was known — was formed in 1870. The early organizations were not overtly political, but their members often were: active in the suffrage movement, determined, as Ms. Turk put it, to prove themselves intellectual equals to men.
"This was a time when female students often had to sit in the back of the classroom, when they were often ignored by the male faculty, or addressed as 'Mr.,' e ven in coed institutions," Ms. Turk said. "So I know that that can sound strange to some people, that early sororities acted in feminist manners before feminist was even a word, but these were women who were really trying to expand the boundaries of what was considered O.K. for women to do."
It was later, in the early 1900s, that the social aspect (parties, mixers) and outwardly exclusionary policies of these groups began to make it on the books, said Ms. Turk — a result of education access expanding beyond the white upper class (and, thus, a need to keep those other women out). These policies would give rise to the first African-American and Jewish sororities — founded at Howard University and Barnard — which remain vibrant today.
But among the traditionally white groups, residuals of that h istory, and modern twists to it, remain: As recently as three years ago, two black women were denied sorority entry at the University of Alabama; at my alma mater, a recruitment email was recently leaked, containing a PowerPoint of 25 different shades of turquoise and the nine that members were allowed to wear (yes to "bezique," no to "aqueduct"). Tales of binge drinking, bullying, hazing … the list goes on.
"On the first day of my recruitment weekend, I was greeted by about 40 sisters in matching outfits and heels," said Anushua Bhattacharya, a Columbia senior who wrote an ar ticle about deactivating from Sigma Delta Tau. "I returned to my room that night feeling as if I had just finished the first round of a beauty pageant."
Even at progressive campuses, tradition remains: fines for missing meetings; elaborate rituals; bans on serving alcohol at parties — putting fraternities in control of social life. And, of course, the barrier to entry: the class issues, the cost; being chosen, or cut, based on no formal criteria.
"It's kind of like the white wedding," said Caitlin Flanagan, an author who spent a year investigating fraternity life for The Atlantic. "You see these really empowered women, feminists, and you're like: 'Wait, your dad is walking you do wn the aisle? What?! And the guy you've been living with has to go and ask him permission?'"
Photo Ilina Odouard, Barnard sophomore, neuroscience and behavior. Credit Dina Litovsky for The New York Times
The setup of Panhellenic sororities is complicated, but it's not unlike Ms. Flanagan's analogy — involving multiple governing bodies, bylaws and constitutions that sometimes haven't been updated in a century. So while Columbia women can, for instance, individually reach out in support of Ms. Bhattacharya, who wrote about deactivating, they will also tell her they've been advised not to share the article on Facebook. The women of Brown may decide, as part of a student vote, to open up its system to transgender women, but the national chapters of the sororities could institute their own policies at any point. These groups can work to diversify their membership — and in many cases, they have — but most are still governed by a majority of white women more than twice their age.
"It's difficult for sororities to move forward when some influential adults' warped values are holding them back," said Alexandra Robbins, a Yale alumni and the author of "Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities." "They can be as progressive as they want, but at the end of the day, nationals can still say, 'You have to wear makeup or look a certain way.'"
For generations past, perhaps the only way to reconcile that gap would have been to reject the system. To opt out. "To us, it just seemed like one more way of the white male establishment consolidating its power, and we were having none of it," said Ms. Houser, the Yale graduate.
Yet nearly every American president has be en involved in Greek life. Fraternity alumni make up a large chunk of Fortune 500 C.E.O.s. Tales of frat-house-startups-turned-Silicon-Valley-successes (think Snapchat, Facebook, Instagram), as well as secret Wall Street handshakes, are simply par for the course.
And so: If you're an ambitious Ivy League woman, if you buy into the belief that the best way to fight the system is to grasp power within it — or, as one woman put it, "tear down the patriarchy from the inside" — then maybe, as Ms. Robbins suggested, it's no surprise "you'd want to counter what's clearly a thriving, successful old-boys network."
Ms. Berg said, "Perhaps part of this allure is that women want that network, too."
Photo Jennifer Egbebike, Columbia sophomore, pre-medical. Credit Dina Litovsky for The New York Times
Last year, when it was revealed that the National Panhellenic Conference — along with its fraternity equivalent, the North-American Interfraternity Conference — had spent thousands lobbying for a campus sexual assault bill, several sororities broke rank to come out in protest, pressuring the N.P.C. to withdraw its support. (The bill, called the Safe Campus Act, would have blocked colleges from investigating sexual assault claims unless a victim also reported the crime to law enforcement.)
At Dartmouth, a number of sororities have "gone local," or disaffiliated from their national chapters, giving up funding in order to crea te their own rules. (At one, Sigma Delta, women hold parties with alcohol, with female bartenders, female door monitors and women designated to remain sober and monitor the scene.)
Other groups have said they've removed portions of their rituals — say, a reading from the New Testament — in an effort to be more inclusive. When, at one sorority, an invite to a "crush event" indicated that members needed to bring a male date, members pushed back — and the policy was changed to allow a date of any gender (or no gender, or date, at all).
When the women of Columbia's Theta chapter decided to decorate that mattress, standing front and center at a rally on campus, they made the conscious choice to use the sorority's motto — "Leading Women" — rather than their Greek letters, so as not to cause a stir within their national office.
Photo Jamie Fass, Barnard first year, economics. Credit Dina Litovsky for The New York Times
"One could argue, that as feminists, maybe we should push back, maybe we should be trying to tear down these systems of supposed oppression," said Annika Reno, a human rights and political science major at Barnard, who gathered recently with a group of sorority women to discuss feminism and Greek life. Hosanna Fuller, a senior majoring in computer science, added: "What if the goal was changing how Greek life operates as a whole? Like what are our actual goals? How can we track success?"
"I was saying all through recruitment to anyone who would listen, 'I'm going to get in this system and I'm going to turn it on its head,'" said Jamie Fass, a Barnard first year and new pledge. "I think the world is working in a way where if we want to be competitive, it's better to be competitive withi n the system."
"It is an imperfect system for sure," echoed Jing Qu, a political science and women's studies major at Columbia. "But I think our generation is working to change it from the inside."
Continue reading the main story
