Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Rush and Other "Progressive" Dartmouth Things

I went to Rauner today with my WGSS 10 class and we got the opportunity to look at some interesting material pertaining to sexism, feminism, and gender as it relates to Dartmouth’s history. I read an edition of the publication no longer in circulation, Spare Rib. The edition had a specific focus on the Greek system and rush as it relates to women, a topic that I have been grappling and arguing about for the past week. Arguing quite fervently. The two articles related to rush in the volume offered two different criticisms of sororities. The first argued that the Greek system is a terribly degrading process, which has the unfortunate consequence of exploiting the self-consciousness that people bear. In the articles it states that, “Too many of us willingly accept and participate in a system that judges and them either accepts or rejects a woman on the basis of a five minute conversation. We insist that this should not be taken personally, yet how else can a woman take it? Isn’t she the person we just rejected on the very basis of who she is?” (Spare Rib, Spring 1993). The second argues that sororities are inherently undermining the greater feminist coalition of women on this campus in that it partitions us into insular cliques that berate, undermine, and antagonize the others. While this publication was published over 20 years ago, it is haunting in how easily you could deceive yourself into thinking it was published yesterday.
While sororities like my own have diverged from this toxic path towards more inclusive and meaningful ways of recruiting new members, the mainstream Greek culture still smarts of the same problems. We have somehow deceived ourselves into thinking that the same problems of exclusivity and sexism have been resolved. The Greek council touts its victory in making the Greek system inclusive in that anyone can rush and has the chance to participate. But it covers over the fact that rush is not even a real possibility for everyone, whether that be for financial restraints or mental health issues. The Greek system is inclusive in title only. There is a significant difference between diversity and inclusion: one is a numbers game and the other is about actually changing the dynamics of socialization. There is no substantive inclusion. The fact that someone can be denied a bid for being their most genuine self when someone else who lies about engaging in activism to seem more feminist to cater to a house does. The fact that Greek houses still treat their minority members as a tally to prove to other houses and the campus that they are “not racist”. The fact that a house was told explicitly from their national to “accept less Asian women” because they are “not pretty enough” and took that to heart in their next formal recruitment cycle. The fact that sorority girls buy into the whole “white dress” tradition that obviously mean to demonstrate the importance of a woman’s purity. The fact that houses like AKA and APhiO are completely disconnected from the Greek system to the point where many people don’t even know they exist. The fact that members who need financial aid to be a part of a house are forced to perform more duties and act as a “house-keeper”. The fact that guys send each other blitzes detailing when they have events with a sorority as a reminder for their members to expect and prepare for coitus. The fact that meetings are fraught with outright racist jokes that members feel safe enough to yell in the privacy of their own houses because no one will snitch if they’re part of the club. How are we so delusional as to think that the Greek system is not toxic?

I know that I still bear the shame and the guilt of the Greek system because when it comes down to it, I’m still in a Greek house. While I may not be the chief authority or have the most right to speak so critically of the Greek system for that reason, I believe that people still have the right and the obligation to speak out about a system that they are in if something is egregiously wrong with it. I can be an American and still critique America so that it can do and be better. The other publications that we read were harshly satirical and were such a breath of fresh air because they didn’t hold anything back. As jarring and shocking as these pieces were then, they’re still as striking now compared to the tempered, measured ways that we write today to cover our asses. So that we don’t make enemies. So that we don’t stir the pot too much. So that we don’t get backlash. Academia might be partially to blame. Writing esoterically and “appropriately” is the only way that anyone will actually listen to your argument and what you’re trying to say. God forbid someone say “fuck your white tears” because we are too quick to get personally offended then we are to check our privilege. So I urge that we bring back biting poetry about demon vaginas to criticize our current repression of female sexuality. Bring back the spreads with women’s advertisements revised with shocking catchphrases to criticize beauty standards. Bring back the satirical articles about “10 things you can do with a severed penis”. Be bold.

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Infirmed.

Departing this verdant microcosm made me ill,
Diseased and poisoned,
Unrecognizably disfigured,
An irreparable invalid.

Leaving these cloistered quarters
Of myopic worldliness,
Supported by auto-aroused academia,
In turn made me the one who lost perspective.

 My wandering ambulation was transient,
As though each step forward
Was a fabrication of mind and not matter,
And I found myself seeing rose again.

Body returned and thoughts forced to follow,
All was left as though preserved with cosmic formaldehyde.
Each form exactly in place,
Eyes glassy and blank stares looking ahead.

Yet you peer as far down those colored rounds,
As you can bring yourself to bear,
And find that there are wisps of thinking,
Swirling around and metamorphosing.

Then their eyes find you,
Only to find that they’re covered with human tissue,
Unlike the plastic veneer that covers theirs,
And I am the one that is infirmed.

Those once endearing figurines,
You held on to and placed safely on the mantle,
Have cracked and chipped away
Their delicate porcelain.

Acid and stress from posturing force
And from facile and trite gravity,
Wearing away the parts that are beautiful and of substance,
Only to leave a grey mass of coprolite.

The stench that lingers from this toxic reaction,
That is made aromatic by the rose glass,
Has penetrated their pores
And made itself a home in their insecurity.

But how tragic it is that ceramic cannot sense
That it is being tainted.
The pestilence of my being is nothing
Compared to their addictive anesthetic.

For we are all sick,

Terribly, terribly sick.