L
egend says a posse of so-
rority girls today looks
like this: designer ten-
nis shoes, various shades of hon-
ey-highlighted hair, a cluster of
pastel-toned sweatshirts, and the
quintessential sweatpants don-
ning their sorority letters.
While the American soror-
ity system initially positioned
itself as an emblem of tradition
and female “excellence” when
it originated over a century ago,
it has since been held to signifi-
cant levels of controversy from its
historically racist practices to its
“nightmarish” hazing rituals. As
an effect, the term “sorority girl”
has come to connote ideas of su-
perficiality and hurtful exclusivi-
ty; the modern-day “sorority girl”
character description is one of
designer shoes, blonde hair and
pricey athletic wear.
I wish I could say I haven’t sub-
scribed to the wildly superficial
makeup of the “sorority girl ste-
reotype,” and that, as a feminist, I
have been able to reject the anti-
girl sentiment that this stereotype
and its reduction of young women
into a shopping-list type of description
inherently carry. But, last week, just one
day after Washtenaw County instated the
campus-wide stay-at-home order, I saw
a group of four female students conven-
ing in the Michigan Union’s Sweetwaters.
And almost immediately, I found myself
noting their sorority-like characteristics
as if I were making some sort of tally:
Balenciaga sneakers: two pairs.
Lululemon leggings: three wearing
them.
Patagonia backpacks: four on their
backs.
I looked at this group of friends and did
not register them as four women, or even
four students, but, rather, four sorority
girls. Observing them based on solely ma-
terialistic traits, I made a snap judgement
before one of them even said anything
about a sorority — which, eventually, one
of them did.
After about 30 minutes of chatting,
they were asked to leave by a Sweetwa-
ters employee because they were infring-
ing upon the social-gathering regulations
put in place by the recent executive order.
I found myself shaking my head in bitter
agreement with the employee, watching
them leave the study space with their face
masks hung flimsily around their wrists.
Serves them right, I thought. They’re
the reason why we’re dealing with this
stay-at-home order in the first place.
I looked down at the bright pink “femi-
nist” sticker emblazoned upon my plan-
ner and felt a sense of guilt settle in my
stomach. The hypocrisy might as well
have slapped me in the face. When did
anti-sorority sentiment permeate such a
basic level of my subconscious? Moreover,
when did berating young women based
purely on their social associations become
OK?
Some might posit that the University of
Michigan’s sororities’ uptick in bad press
since the beginning of the pandemic has
compounded a pre-existing anti-sorority
sentiment on campus. Even before fall
semester classes began, evidence of large
and supposedly Fraternity & Sorority
Life-affiliated social gatherings was gain-
ing substantial attention on social media.
One picture depicting an outdoor gather-
ing in late August gained over 1,400 likes
on Twitter, with commentators quick to
associate the culprits with Phi Kappa
Psi, a fraternity on the University’s Inter-
fraternity Council, though it’s unclear if
the house actually belonged to members
of that fraternity. One Twitter user re-
marked: “SO glad I never had a daughter,”
presumably in response to the handful of
female students shown in the photo.
One can observe that fraternity mem-
bers have received their share of pan-
demic-related policing via social media. A
post on the popular “Overheard at umich”
Facebook group criticized fraternity-af-
filiated parties being thrown mid-July:
“...a bunch of fratboys having yet another
party outside and endangering the gen-
eral public. So excited to start in person
classes with these incredible careful and
conscientious people!”
The Michigan Daily joined the nar-
rative of mid-pandemic fraternity criti-
cism with an article by columnist Elayna
Swift discussing the ways in which Theta
Chi’s partying habits demonstrated “dis-
appointing displays of entitlement and
foolishness” that are “likely a result of
Schlissel’s recent announcement to have
an in-residence fall semester.”
Much of the public criticism surround-
ing the ways fraternities have (failed to)
carry themselves in recent months em-
ploys action-based rhetoric: the frater-
nities’ actions rather than the brothers
as individuals are being criticized. And
rightfully so.
But when it comes to anti-Fraternity
& Sorority Life sentiment based purely
on individual, external attributes, like
style or appearance, sorority girls have
received a great deal more attention —
which, frankly, represents a stark double
standard in the ways we apply Fraternity
& Sorority Life stereotypes on campus.
If you haven’t heard of the “copy, paste”
joke surrounding tribes of sorority girls,
then you’ve likely seen the infamous pho-
to from The Daily that motivated it. The
picture, which has gained over 2,900 likes
on Instagram, shows a group of supposed
sorority girls making the honorable pil-
grimage toward Welcome Week fraternity
parties this August. Even before the pan-
demic, these parties have garnered a great
deal of controversy in their own right for
being hotspots of sexual assault and sexu-
al coercion.
The comment section under this partic-
ular photo reads like a brutal high school
group chat:
“Greekazoids”
“Love the uniform”
“Lmao they got copy printed”
“Copy paste”
... Notice any overarching themes?
The “copy, paste” punchline, which em-
bodies the idea of sorority girls traveling
in identical flocks, is not new. Earlier this
year, a picture posted on Barstool Sports’
main Instagram of a huddle of female stu-
dents undergoing the rush process, all
clad in black Canada Goose coats, gained
over 280,000 likes.
The comment section isn’t subtle in its
dehumanizing remarks:
“Look at all those chickens!”
“This is how (we) keep track of hens in
public.”
The picture quickly circulated on the
“Overheard at umich” Facebook group,
with fellow University students hurling
similar insults. One woman delivered the
harshest blow:
“...It reminds me of the creation of dog
breeds actually. Get enough that look sim-
ilar and boom, a new breed of (insert three
Greek letters).”
First, I acknowledge how the Univer-
sity’s Panhellenic system carries an exten-
sive history of problematic, racially and
physically discriminatory rush processes
that lend themselves to constructing the
sorority “breed” this Facebook user is
referring to: a homogenous makeup of
wealth, whiteness and thinness.
But I must also acknowledge that in no
circumstance should it be socially accept-
able to openly compare young women to
dogs. And this is where I’ve seen produc-
tive, anti-sorority dialogue surrounding
the system’s corruption become extreme-
ly destructive, anti-sorority girl dialogue
— the same analysis that’s digested and
manifested later by raging feminists like
me, who can observe a group of perfectly
friendly female students and automati-
cally cast judgement on them for being of
that “type.”
Assuming that this sector of female stu-
dents have been criticized enough for be-
ing a part of a system we know is corrupt,
I wanted to hear from some of the mem-
bers themselves.
In an email interview with The Daily,
a member of one of the University’s Pan-
hellenic sororities who has chosen to keep
her identity and sorority affiliation anon-
ymous for privacy concerns, expressed
that she definitely recognizes the sorority
stereotype being perpetuated on campus.
“I feel like it is unfair, especially for
those who don’t understand or are not in-
volved in the Panhellenic community,” she
wrote. “Some of the stereotypes, at least
from my experience, are not
even close to the kind of love
and genuine support I’ve
received from this commu-
nity.”
As far as how this stereo-
type manifests itself in aca-
demic settings on campus,
she noted that, “... some-
times the stereotypes may
be that people in Greek life
don’t focus on school, but
that couldn’t be more of the
opposite from what I’ve wit-
nessed. There are so many
women excelling in their
grades, including lots of
women in STEM programs.”
This particular sorority
member had also seen the
notorious “copy, paste” pic-
ture that circulated on social
media late August.
“It is a little sad that this
(photo) is being called a ‘so-
rority outing,’” she wrote.
“First of all, there is no way
to prove any of these women
are involved in Greek Life,
and many of the (Instagram)
comments are based on the
assumption of that. Secondly, if these in-
dividuals are freshmen, based on the sur-
vey presented in the (Instagram) caption,
they wouldn’t be involved in Greek life
yet, considering rush events do not start
until Winter 2021.”
Essentially, this image depicts the kind
of magic formula — tribe of females, crop
tops and Air Force 1s — that immediately
registered in our minds as “sorority girls,”
despite the objective fact that these, pre-
sumably, first-year students wouldn’t
have even started the rush process yet.
Nevertheless, disregarding the actual or
prospective sorority status of these young
women, why does the sorority-girl as-
sumption immediately induce biting re-
proach?
Does the harm exist in the mere label of
being in a sorority?
Knowing that the sorority system ex-
tends across the United States, I was curi-
ous to know how the negative stereotypes
attached to the sorority-girl label manifest
themselves on other campuses beyond the
University of Michigan’s. According to so-
rority members of Panhellenic chapters
within Indiana University, which has a
nearly-equivalent percentage of students
involved in Fraternity & Sorority Life to
that of the University of Michigan, the so-
cial impact of the sorority label can vary
based on which sorority you are affiliated
with.
One member, who is quoted anony-
mously and omitted her sorority affilia-
tion due to privacy concerns, wrote in an
email interview with The Daily that, on IU
Bloomington’s campus, “I have met many
people (...) who have said that I don’t come
off as a stereotypical sorority girl to them.
However, when people know of some of
my sisters they are quick to say that I am
such a (chapter name) sorority girl be-
cause of the sweet people they know who
I am therefore associated with.”
This member has also observed the
ways her sorority affiliation and the as-
sociated increased level of COVID-19 risk
have affected the way she’s perceived by
classmates. “The only setting in which
Greek life has affected my reputation neg-
atively is in my classes this semester,” she
wrote. “My classmates were just extreme-
ly worried about me spreading the virus
to them.”
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
statement
Copy, Paste: Let’s
talk anti-sorority
sentiment
BY GRACE TUCKER, STATEMENT COLUMNIST
Read more at
MichiganDaily.com
ILLUSTRATION BY MAGGIE WIEBE
Wednesday, November 4, 2020 — 15