Breaking down Greek brotherhood

I see the perks in joining a frat: partying, stumbling across some good people and meeting more women. But I don’t see the value in pretending to be friendly with “brothers” I’m not particularly fond of, just because they’re under the same roof and sign semester checks to the same recipient. Also, chill out on the brotherhood.

You aren’t Morgan Freeman in “Wanted” talking about a fraternity of assassins or anything of comparable coolness- it’s a bunch of dudes drinking beer and talking about boobies all day, which I can’t fault people for, but I’d rather do that for free. Also, the word brother needs to be addressed. I rarely call my biological brother “bro,” so I can’t see how people can toss around the word around so lightly with some people who are merely acquaintances and would gladly stab you in the back.

And as for identifying with a fraternity, why is it every time I meet someone in a Greek-related party, that’s the first question they ask? Is it really that interesting if I rushed for frat X and became one of them? If you must know, I’m a GDI opening up a local chapter for Sigma Mu Delta (if you catch my drift) so don’t pigeonhole me as a gentleman or a meathead- I am neither.

Most of all, I don’t understand how people live with each other in mass for so long. The maximum capacity of people that I’m willing to live with (for members of the same sex) caps at about three or four, and even then that’s sometimes too much. I like to keep ultimate debauchery out of my place of residence for the most part to eliminate the necessity of next day’s hung-over cleanup. I also don’t get much gratification from being around the smell of BO and day-old booze. I’m not blind to the benefits, though: networking seems huge, and keeping busy is a good way to prevent going stir crazy.

I can’t help but raise an eye, however, because when I was going through the process of rush, the recruiter told me that someone in the room is definitively going to be the best man at my wedding one day. You don’t decide who becomes one of my cronies, only I do. And who said I’m getting married?

 

Evan Seaman is a senior majoring in marketing. He may be contacted at eseaman@themiamihurricane.com.