Being Greek is not something that I have always wanted. I honestly never even thought about it until maybe some time during middle school, which apparently is still really early compared to some of my sorority sisters. Being exposed to Greek men and women in the black community is almost inevitable. Many become educators, or work within the school systems, they own businesses in the community, they are our parents, uncles, aunts, cousins and friends; and they are proud.

Every Greek teacher that I have had has had their Greek letters proudly displayed in their classrooms on flags, coffee mugs, posters, or paddles. It was only a matter of time before I began to take notice and actually consider being a part of one of these organizations. I remember how I loved the fact that these people were so proud of their organization that they wanted to represent it until they day they died. That just isn’t something you see as often in other Greek organizations.

Once I decided this was something that I wanted to do, I had begun talking to teachers and family members who were members of a specific sorority that I was interested in, and they encouraged me to give it a try once I got to college. Unfortunately when I decided to attend Stetson University, I learned that they did not have any NPHC (National Pan-Hellenic Council) organizations on their campus which are traditionally African American Greek letter organizations. I was still under the impression that I could travel about 30 minutes down the road and pledge at Bethune-Cookman University’s campus. This was not possible, so I decided to go through the NPC (National Panhellenic Conference) sorority recruitment at my school. Due to finances and the hope that I could still somehow pledge at a different school, I dropped out of recruitment after the last day of visiting the houses. I spent my freshman year regretting the fact that I dropped from recruitment because I still wasn’t able to pledge at a different school and I had become attached to one sorority in particular where a lot of my friends received bids.

Finally during my sophomore year I received a bid from the sorority at my school that I had fallen in love with and, although it was one of the best decisions I could have ever made, there was still this lingering feeling that something was missing.

I was not the only black girl in my sorority or the only minority. We were extremely diverse and still are, but sometimes I felt as though I couldn’t connect with some of the girls. I grew up with a lot of different experiences being black that shaped me to be the way that I am, and sometimes I could only talk about these things with the other black sisters. My top two choices for Bigs were black, and I spent most of my time hanging out with these girls during my first year.

There were certain things that made me uncomfortable at first, like the questions about my various hair styles, which I eventually realized stemmed from a genuine curiosity; and when people talked to me about their need to tan, an issue that I think I’m pretty content with myself.

I got used to these things and learned to accept them for what they are, simple cultural differences. I could only imagine what it is like for those individuals who aren’t black to pledge a NPHC organization. I learned things from my sisters as well, like what the obsession with Lily Pulitzer was all about and what rainbows were (apparently they’re a type of flip flop). But I still always felt like something wasn’t there that should be.

I realized that there were certain areas of my life that many of my sisters just wouldn’t be able to easily understand; such as my views on racism, police brutality, the N-Word, why I find the #growingupblack hashtags so hilarious, and why I try not to voice my opinions in a way that is seen as too aggressive to avoid being an angry black woman. Now this isn’t to say that I apply this everyone, because my sisters have been more than supportive in multiple areas in my life and I wouldn’t trade them for the world; but there will always be those sisters that I can go to who will really understand what I mean when I say, I need some coconut oil, or when I’m really feeling my melanin one day, or when I need a shoulder to cry on because someone has made me feel less than perfect about being a black woman in America.Is there anything wrong with this? I don’t think so. When people venture into a new place they tend to stick next to the people who speak the same language as them, are from the same place, or have a similar culture, and that’s what I found myself doing my first year in a sorority. However, I also know that there are a lot of lessons to be learned by my sisters and myself that I know I might not learn being a part of an NPHC organization. Despite the fact that I have gotten a lot of slack from people who believe that I either should have joined an NPHC sorority or none at all, I have never regretted my decision and doing so has introduced me to people and places that I might not have ever known. I can only hope that more people will decide to cross over these boundary lines in both directions and if they decide to go Greek, do what is right for them no matter their race or family expectations.