Welcome to the Row

The worlds most obvious sorority girl stood in front of Jackie, delicately running her fingers over the row of tiny, pink pearls draped around her neck.

"So, Jackie, tell me why you want to join my sorority."

I don't, thought Jackie, and then she wondered at the ego of this woman to believe that every single one of the 700 girls going through sorority recruitment wanted to be in this particular chapter. "Well, I am new to the notion of a big campus...my high school class had about 200 kids, and I'm ready to make some lasting friendships here."

"Oh." TWMOSG pursed her lips. "Well, tell me what you think friendship means."

"I don't think I understand the question," Jackie smoothed her hands over her khaki skirt, wishing fervently that she'd gone ahead and worn her favorite sundress. At least that one covered her knees and made her feel less conscious of how she sat, stood and walked.

"You say that you're looking for friendship. How do you think friendship here will be different than in high school." TWMOSG almost spat out the last two words, so far was she from those homework laden days.

"It doesn't have to be different." Jackie spoke quietly, her voice gradually getting stronger, "I have friends from high school that I intend to keep all my life, but they don't go to this school. I don't know yet how the friendships here will be different. I haven't even started classes yet!"

"I see. Yes, I want you to realize that being in a sorority is a COMMITMENT. That it will take time out of your day, your week, your life. The friendships you make here will change the way you see yourself. They will make you who you will be in your future." TWMOSG batted her long lashes and stared at Jackie.

Jackie opened her wide, blue eyes and looked right into the narrow green slits that passed for TWMOSG's eyes,"I know that a sorority will change my life. But I know who I am and who I want to be. I don't know much about sororities, since no one in my family has ever been in one, but I do know that I want to live with and be friends with the kind of women who will accept me, respect me and value me. And I want to feel the same way about them."

"Interesting." TWMOSG sighed as she glanced anxiously around the room for her replacement in the recruitment rotation.

Soon another woman arrived, this one wearing the same tight black pants and jewel-toned top of the first, "Hi!! I'm Casey! It's my turn to talk to you!"

TWMOSG stared at Casey, "Yeah, be a little more obvious. I'm going to go get some lemonade. It was so nice to meet you Jackie. Good luck with your recruitment. And I mean that. Best of luck." She turned and walked towards the kitchen, walked in, and let the huge oak door slam behind her.

"Well, she can be a bit picky! She's our president!" Casey smiled freakisly at Jackie and waited for a response."

"Lucky you," she said out loud.

Remember, you asked for this, she said to herself.

Snippets

Walking across Lower Sproul Plaza, late on an early September night. It's still warm, still that completely un-PC term of Indian Summer. There's a hint of a breeze. I almost wish I had a sweater, but I'm warm on the inside. I've just finished filling out my "preference card" for sorority recruitment (AKA Rush). I am a college freshman. I'm wearing a white t-shirt and a blue and white plaid "skort" (I'll soon learn why this is unquestionably not something I should ever wear in public). I've got on my favorite sandals, the leather soft and supple but the shoes still in good condition (unlike my favorite flip-flops, which have retired to my parents' garage), and my legs are long and tan. I can feel the breeze on my arms - also tan from a season of swim team and a summer in the sun. I feel beautiful. I feel like I'm in college.

That moment, that quiet, dark night, the campus belongs to me. Berkeley is mine and mine alone.

Heading to class, walking through the Eucylaptus grove, watching my feet on the flagstone path, I think about how one day, one distant day, I will walk that path with my husband, my child. That moment. Well, those multiple moments, belong completely to me. I breathe in the fresh smell of the trees. I feel my feet on the hard, cold ground. I brush autumn's leaves out of my path.

Late afternoons, walking up Bancroft Avenue, heading to the sorority that I chose and that chose me, I hear the sounds of people yelling, talking, living. I walk, sometimes hunched over with the weight of my backback, sometimes fresh and happy, eager for the evening ahead. All of Berkeley belongs to me.

Crowded in the bathroom. Hurrying around my own bedroom, curlers, hair dryers, makeup, clothes, scattered around the room. Making that wonderful mess that is getting ready for a party. Curling someone else's hair (even if she ended up not liking it later). Zipping dresses. Dancing around to whatever pre-party music someone had chosen. The smell of at least six different perfumes and a dozen different hairsprays permeating the air. Twenty different stereos playing throughout the house, creating a mix no DJ would ever attempt. Those memories, those moments, belong to us all.