There are a million reasons to drop your sorority. They're expensive, they're a huge commitment both of your time and of your heart, and sometimes, girls are just mean. Sometimes classes and jobs become the priority, and you can't justify paying thousands of dollars for a sorority you're not able to spend time participating in. Sometimes women are ostracized and feel alone, and those are perfectly justifiable reasons to drop. Sometimes the only thing keeping you is the food. All perfectly valid.
But I cannot agree with anybody who drops just because it's their senior year.
I may be a minority because I'm a senior who lives in the house, so I'm around more often than most. My sorority has an awesome chef and I live with one of my best friends. Dropping would actually have a huge effect on where I live and how I eat.
But I will probably skip more socials than I attend this final semester, this last hurrah. I'll honestly prioritize applying to jobs and internships over attending service events. I won't pay enough attention at chapter and I'll skim the emails, only paying attention to the T-shirt Google docs.
But I won't drop.
I refuse to turn my back on an organization that has, for better or worse, had the single biggest impact on who I became in college.
My sorority is feminist as hell, and I love it for that. Most other organizations available to college students are incredibly specific, and they cater to people with specific interests, specific majors, specific career goals. My sorority's criteria? Be a woman. That's it. What people fail to realize when they stereotype sororities is that you will probably find a wider variety of viewpoints, personalities, interests, and goals there than anywhere else on a college campus. There are women of different ages, socioeconomic statuses, backgrounds, races, histories, majors, sexualities, you name it. And every one of us, from the oldest senior to the youngest freshman, shares the experience of joining this organization and letting it shape us. To me, that matters a hell of a lot more than being in a club for future pharmacists.
My sorority challenged me to think about my missions in life. It made me think about my dreams, and it gave me access to women dealing with really hard shit and conquering all of it. I've seen women rise above everything imaginable, and the inspiration that gave me is immeasurable. Recruitment forces you to look at your strengths and weaknesses, how you present yourself to the world, who you want to be. I wasn't asked what my favorite liquor was or how much I partied -- I was asked what my goals were. And it wasn't a 60-year-old admissions officer; it was a beautiful, smart, warm young woman who I admired and wanted to be like. And when every single woman plays a role towards making the chapter run better, being in a sorority matures you and teaches you cooperation and concession.
Maybe I paid for my friends. Maybe I still would have met my best friend if I'd never joined my sorority. But you know what? I can, beyond a single doubt, guarantee you that if I hadn't joined this organization, and I was dealing with an eating disorder, an abusive boyfriend, depression, horrible grades, or no shoes to wear with my cocktail dress, I wouldn't have 30-plus people to call. Nothing will ever lift me up, remind me of my power, or cradle me when I'm crumpled on the parlor floor, drunk and crying, like my sorority can.
My sorority didn't give me friends. It gave me sisters, and it gave me myself.
