Freshmen at Large - Stephanie Hodges Pt. 2

Imagine it: 700 lip-glossed, high-lighted hopefuls sweating profusely through their specifically selected sun-dresses for hours. The make-up is slowly dripping down their faces and side bangs are stuck on foreheads due to extreme perspiration. Welcome to sorority recruitment!
I guess everyone wonders why, with such a grotesque description, any girl would choose to go through rush. Somewhere between the 20-minute conversations with strangers and the intense humidity (a sudden death to any type of hair style.), rush loses its polished appearance. I chose to rush because I was curious. I had heard horror stories about cross-cuts, dehydration and humiliation, but I wanted to know what this whole sorority thing was really about.
When we got to the first house, I had no idea what to expect. Would it be like fish camp, where the girls would run out in crazy costumes? Would they be dressed up like country club members and serve us earl grey tea?
No!
Instead, they banged on the sorority house’s doors, singing and chanting away about something “Kappa Omega Beta” and how everyone wants to be one. Not to be cliché, but it was Greek to me.
So here we are, sweating and getting horrible tan lines, waiting for the banging and screaming to stop so we can walk into some sort of shade. Then, the doors fly open, the cool air is felt 50 feet back, and we all remember why we’re here. In a matter of minutes, each “rusher” is paired up with a glowing, grinning girl and escorted into different rooms.
At first, due to slight awkwardness and a bit of shock, the conversations between the pairs are aimed toward the grueling heat or apologies for sweaty backs when hugs are given. Then, the two move onto heavier issues.
For example: “Your dress is so cute. Where did you get it?” or “I love your hair! Is it naturally curly?”
These topics could keep a girl talking for a good five to 10 to 20 minutes. After the 20 minutes is up, the “rushees” delicately push the “rushers” out of the house into the humidity again.
The following nights were similar, and by the end of the week, it wasn’t too hard to see which sorority was for me. I wanted to be one of the smiling, singing, door-banging girls behind the stately double-doors, but not only that, I wanted to be in a specific sorority, a sorority that fits me. I anxiously awaited bid day, when I would find out which sorority had chosen me.
Now that I’m settled in my sorority, having taken part in not only a sleep over, but a dance party and official meeting as well, I’m so grateful. I took the time to sweat and stammer my way through conversations for a week.
It was hard work, but I got four amazing years out of it — not to mention 200 new sisters!