Miss Sorority Dropout
From recruitment to renouncement
Claire Weston
Caitlin Dominski
The crisp February day welcomed hundreds of college women, all bubbling with Bid Day excitement. Each one had waited patiently for today, when they’d learn which sorority accepted them as members.
Lauren Becker stumbled along with countless other girls as she entered Millett Hall, the basketball arena on Miami University’s campus. Every face she scanned held a bright smile.
As she walked inside, Lauren was handed a small envelope. It contained her new sorority, her new sisterhood.
Lauren peeled open the envelope and peered inside. She would be joining Phi Sigma Sigma. Shrieks and screams filled the air around her as other girls discovered their placements.
Before she could conjure even a thought, she was handed a baby pink t-shirt with “Get Funky with Phi Sig” written in bubbled font. She threw it on and was herded through metal doors, toward the main gym floor where hundreds of sorority girls awaited their new members.
They were instructed to “run and find their sorority.” She was released with the screaming girls, dashing off, their eyes on a hunt. As they darted past her, Lauren couldn’t help but notice that some of the shirts resembled those of Dora the Explorer.
Lauren decided to walk.
She meandered along, scanning the colorful crowd in search of her temporary big. New members receive a big, an older member who acts as a mentor and guide. She hoped the girl would just appear magically before her. Lauren was 5-feet-9-inches tall and would later learn that her temporary big’s height reached 5 feet on a good day.
Once her temporary big finally stumbled into her, she ushered Lauren toward Phi Sigma Sigma.
Lauren shuffled over to the large group of pink-shirted girls gathered near a staircase. The older sorority girls shouted over the screams, “Everyone smile!”
Lauren tentatively flashed a smile as countless members held up iPhones.
Immediately after picture time ended, she was whisked off to Hamilton Hall, a dorm a short walk away from the arena. She followed the trail of disco shirts into a large room, where she gathered for another group photo, this time with every member of the sorority.
When she finally left Bid Day activities — mouth hurt from smiling — she dragged herself back to her room.
“What did I get myself into?” she thought.
***
The pressure to join sorority life evaded Lauren when she started college. During her first fall semester, she could check off all the things that’d gone well.
No roommate issues. A fun group of friends. Easy enough classes.
She never planned to join recruitment, also known as “rush.” Anytime she imagined what sororities looked like, all she saw was plastic smiles, copy-and-paste blond highlights and enforced matching outfits.
Lauren thought about all the fake conversations, shallow compliments and social events she’d have to suffer through, all situations she’d be paying for. It sounded like hell.
“Why would I ever want to join?” Lauren thought.
But then on a warm fall day, a friend approached Lauren.
This friend was born and raised in California, just like her. Because of their similar experiences, she trusted her and, against her prior judgment, decided to hear her out about rushing.
The friend gave a pitch. Something like sorority life gives Lauren a chance to gain sisters and everlasting friendship. She could find her future bridesmaids, after all.
Perhaps Lauren would finally gain sisters. Perhaps she’d find strong girl friendships. Perhaps she’d experience social events and parties unlike anything she’d known before.
While she had a great mix of friends, Lauren craved a more sister-oriented friendship. She only had a brother back home, and though she loved him lots, it was just different.
“Maybe I’m wrong about sororities,” she thought.
Lauren told her friend she’d give it a shot.
A few weeks later, Lauren found herself standing outside Armstrong Student Center. As she entered the large brick building, she saw countless foldout tables littered with sorority paraphernalia. Everywhere her eyes landed, she saw a sign, pamphlet or Greek letter.
Sprite Dates had begun. These “dates” were the golden opportunity for Lauren to test the waters and learn the basics about each sorority chapter on campus. As she wandered around the room, her eyes danced between brightly colored tables. She read over each chapter and its missions.
“How will I even know which sorority suits me?” Lauren thought.
Her friend came over to Lauren’s house in Sunnyvale, California, over winter break to discuss rush. The two took hours to rank the sororities based on what they saw during Sprite Dates.
When she returned to campus in late January, Lauren was ready to begin her rush process.
Lauren followed her friend to the first meeting. They sat amongst hundreds of girls watching highlight reels play on large, white projector screens. Each video had upbeat, preppy music blaring as countless girls flashed across the screen, each laughing or smiling.
After the meeting ended, Lauren filled out a form for each sorority that interested her.
“It’s like I’m applying for a job,” she thought.
She then ranked each sorority, and each sorority ranked her. If she and the sororities ranked the other well, she would get invited to attend the proceeding rounds.
A few days later, Lauren received messages from Phi Sigma Sigma and other sororities.
During the philanthropy round, Phi Sigma Sigma paired Lauren up with a random member. As she sat down with her, Lauren introduced herself and tried to come up with a topic to discuss.
As they chatted, Lauren brought up a series she’d loved since childhood called “Percy Jackson.” Instantly, the other girl's eyes lit up. For the entire meeting, Lauren and the Phi Sigma Sigma member gushed about the series and how much they adored it.
A few days later, Lauren learned she had progressed to the final round of rush — the preference round. She received a text telling her to dress formally and stick to the exact color theme sent to her.
When Lauren finished those rounds, one for each sorority she potentially wanted to join, she visited a private room to place her “bid.” This bid was a formal commitment to the sorority that she felt best suited her. Each sorority would also decide if it wanted to bid for her.
A few weeks later, Lauren found herself at Millett Hall on Bid Day surrounded by hundreds of women, all awaiting their placements. It became official: Lauren Becker was a sorority member.
***
After Bid Day, Lauren saw the spring semester of her first year fly by. She was completely wrapped up in Greek Life.
When her sophomore year began, Lauren moved into Minnich Hall, where all the other second-year Phi Sigma Sigma members lived.
Each Sunday, Lauren dragged herself down to the suite for the chapter meeting. She carried along a small brick, decorated with Phi Sig’s logo. She always wore her “fully initiated” pin, fit with a sapphire and a sphinx, with an Iota Tower in the middle, signifying the Miami chapter’s number.
As soon as she’d enter the suite room, she’d walk to the front and place her brick on top of the other sisters’ to make a pyramid. One evening, as she set her brick down, she thought back to the secret handshake she learned back during her initiation and all the other rules she’d been taught.
No joining other sororities. Never speak about initiation. Wear mandatory colors for every event. Never change your sorority family.
“It’s like I’m in a cult,” she thought.
One night, Lauren and her friends got ready for a fraternity party. She saw her roommate, Ana, sitting in the room. Ana was Lauren’s sorority “twin,” meaning they both had the same big in the chapter, so Lauren decided to ask her if she wanted to tag along; Ana agreed.
When the group arrived at the frat house, Lauren spotted Rylie. Lauren had befriended Rylie in her first year, along with another girl. They were a trio. The three girls hung out often, but Lauren noticed that Rylie began cutting her off, only asking questions to the other friend and shifting her body to block her from conversations.
Lauren had a three-strike system when it came to people hurting her. The first and second time something occurred, she’d share her feelings. If the person didn’t change their behavior, then Lauren would pull back from the friendship.
So, Lauren sat Rylie down twice.
Both times she told Rylie she never received invites, she was left out of conversations and Rylie never made efforts to hang out or make plans.
Both times, Rylie said she understood and that she’d do better. Both times, Lauren thought, “Maybe she’ll understand this time. Maybe she’ll act differently.”
After their conversations, Lauren would wait for weeks. And, nothing. Rylie still wouldn’t invite Lauren into conversations. She still never asked her to tag along for plans. She only interacted with the other friends and never with Lauren.
Lauren waited. Nothing happened. No invites. No plans. No interactions.
“She didn’t do shit to change,” she said, and that was strike three. Rylie was out.
Now, as Lauren watched Rylie approach her friends at the frat party, she sighed and rolled her eyes. As she turned herself away from the group, she noticed Ana introducing herself to Rylie.
The pair laughed and joked around. They grabbed drinks together and ventured through the party side by side. It’d begun to feel like Rylie was the one who’d invited Ana, not her.
“I can’t believe she just stole my fucking roommate,” Lauren thought.
After that night, Ana never hung out with Lauren again.
Lauren’s room sat isolated and forgotten at the end of the dorm hallway. Her friends from her first year lived across campus, and Ana had begun to never sleep in the dorm. She stopped interacting with Lauren altogether.
Each morning, Lauren heard Ana walk into the room, change into a new set of clothes, grab her backpack and leave without saying a word. The slam of the door was the only sound exchanged between the sorority twins.
Each evening, Lauren trekked across campus, grabbed to-go food, journeyed back to her dorm and ate by herself.
Lauren often heard her friends speak highly of their sororities. Even her first-year roommate had joined a chapter and loved every minute.
Lauren would try to think of her other “connections.” Her closest sorority friend, Erin, studied abroad for the entire fall semester of sophomore year. The two both joined Phi Sigma Sigma at the same time, and Lauren often sought Erin out at social and sorority events.
Each night, Lauren debated reaching out to her big. She scrolled through social media and saw her sorority sisters hanging out with their bigs, going out to bars together, eating dinner and going on trips.
Lauren was lucky if her Big texted her once every few weeks.
“What would I even talk to them about?” Lauren thought. “If I’d asked them to hang out, would it just all be awkward silence?”
So, Lauren came up with a plan with her grand big, or “g big,” to have weekly “family” dinners. Lauren had actually met her g big during the philanthropy rounds back in the spring term of her first year. Any time Lauren hung out with her, time melted away. They could easily spend hours chatting about books, movies, shows and anything else they cared for.
Each week, Lauren texted her big and her twin Ana, asking them to join. Each week, Lauren showed up to dinner expecting her big and twin to arrive. Each week, only Lauren and her g big came.
Each week, Lauren thought, “Why is the one person I’m supposed to be close to not showing up for me?”
Strike one for Phi Sigma Sigma.
***
That same semester, she visited the Mega Fair in hopes of making new friends. She found herself in front of the club rowing team’s table after their vice president called her over. She’d invited Lauren to a “Learn to Row” event later that week.
At the event, Lauren found herself surrounded by support. The rowing team pushed her to row faster and to try her best, even as strangers. At roughly 9 p.m. that same day, Lauren heard a knock on her door. As she cracked it open, 20 voices began to cheer and yell out.
She’d made the team.
A few weeks after joining the rowing team, Lauren pulled up a Google Form titled “Phi Sig Executive Board Application.” She submitted an application for three different roles: the Diversity, Equity and Inclusion position, the Panhellenic Delegate spot and the Risk Management role.
Early in the semester, Lauren had attended multiple Panhellenic outings and conferences. At each event, she connected with other sorority sisters, but when she returned to campus, she’d never hear from the girls again.
“I just want to feel like I’m a part of the chapter,” she thought.
A few weeks later, Lauren hung up a phone call with words she’d just heard echoing around her mind. “I’m sorry, Lauren,” her sorority sister said. “You didn’t get an executive spot.”
Lauren thought, “It was just a popularity contest, I guess.”
Strike two for Phi Sigma Sigma.
***
Halfway through the semester, Phi Sigma Sigma hosted a joint social with the Sigma Alpha Mu fraternity at Sushi King. Lauren had to be a “sober sister,” meaning she wasn’t allowed to drink, and her attendance was mandatory.
When she arrived that night at Sushi King, a local Asian restaurant, she saw exactly four other Phi Sigma Sigma girls and around eight fraternity boys. For three hours, she sat and attempted small talk with the frat members. She even complimented someone’s “Game of Thrones” shirt. The four girls who’d shown up were only there because they, too, were sober sisters for the night.
Not a single other sorority member made an appearance.
“This is so sad,” she thought. “No one talks.”
She made an early escape thanks to the rowing team’s party the same night and felt a complete shift once she saw her teammates.
Everywhere she looked, she saw teammates interacting with each other. Laughter could be heard all around. One member even whipped out a saxophone and began serenading the crowd.
“This is night and day compared to Phi Sig,” she thought.
When Phi Sigma Sigma recruitment began that spring, 19 new members joined — the smallest amount in recent years. Lauren wondered if the sorority’s reputation led to low numbers. The chapter was known as “Bi Sig” because they had a higher percentage of queer women compared to other sororities. The girls also often had different clothing sizes — not all copy and paste. Their reputation was mainly what drew Lauren to join the chapter.
Sorority executives decided to implement a new style for big-little “dates.” Dates were usually individualized; one new member and one older member met up to gauge compatibility. Now, two new members would be paired with two older members.
Lauren thought, “This is terrible. How could I possibly get to know anyone personally if we’re in a group?”
Over the next few weeks, Lauren spent her evenings painting and crafting. Each night, she’d create small Phi Sigma Sigma artworks and gifts for her future little. The idea of receiving a one motivated her.
“If I get a little, I’ll stay in Phi Sig,” Lauren thought.
Each date Lauren went on, she tried to connect with the new members, but often found herself being talked over. It felt pointless; she just couldn’t make any connections.
A few days later, her phone lit up with a notification. It was a short text message.
“Hi Lauren, I’m sorry, but you didn’t get a little this time.”
None of the 19 pledges had listed Lauren as one of their top three potential bigs. The sorority told her she could still attend the big-little reveal party, but she opted out.
One evening, Lauren knocked on Erin’s dorm room door. As Erin cracked it open, Lauren pushed a handful of items into her hands.
“You can have these,” she said as she handed Erin all of the art and gifts she had made the past few weeks for her now nonexistent little.
Strike three. Phi Sigma Sigma is out.
***
Lauren fired up her computer and wrote out a simple email to Phi Sig’s secretary.
“Hey, I won’t be returning next semester.”
The reply was instant, “Oh no, is there anything we can do?”
Lauren didn’t respond. That evening, she left the chapter Snapchat group chat. She knew it would send a notification to everyone saying, “Lauren Becker left the chat,” so after she clicked the red “LEAVE GROUP” button, she checked her notifications.
No messages. No calls. No one asked why she left. No one asked if she was OK.
“I guess they didn’t really care,” she thought.
A few days later, Lauren called her mom, Leslie. She told her she wouldn’t be returning to Phi Sigma Sigma next year.
“You gave it your best,” her mom said. “You tried until the very end. I saw you make a hard choice, but you’re doing better in the end.”
The rest of Lauren’s spring semester went swiftly. Rowing team events picked up, so she dove straight into them. Her teammates often called and made plans with her. Every week, Lauren attended team dinners after practice and would go out to bars with her teammates.
Socials were often planned. Everyone was invited, and all drinks were free, since she paid her club dues. Each time Lauren arrived at an event, she’d hear a string of greetings.
“Hi, Lauren!”
“Lauren’s here!”
“I’m so happy you’re here.”
Lauren’s mom visited Miami for the rowing team's family weekend. The team set up a day at a lake nearby and loaded their boats up for the family members to try out. Lauren spent the day soaking up the sun, laughing with her teammates as they each watched their family struggle to row each boat.
“This is so fun,” her mom said. “Everyone’s so friendly, Lauren. Do you remember Mom’s Weekend for your sorority? Everyone was kind of sitting around the bar, kind of bored. What a difference.”
“Maybe being a dropout isn’t so bad,” Lauren thought.
