How to be the one Person of Color in your White Pledge Class

Congratulations! You’ve made it! You’re the one person of colour who’s managed to penetrate the exclusive white structure of Greek life, pioneering the way for diversity and inclusion, and single-handedly abolishing racism. So, how did you even end up as a splash of color on this white canvas?

At the beginning of the year, you brought your white friends to a minority pregame. They received the warm welcome of “who the fuck let the white people in,” which is also what your ancestors thought when the colonisers arrived. Luckily, after years of conditioning, white people no longer come with weapons and violence but cultish chants and little cups of lemon water. They have counteracted their invasive, elitist ways by creating an impenetrable, exclusive system to rank people based on social capital. Oh, Greek life. 

Bear with me: Greek life is the social structure to join if you and your friends aren’t all the same race. Your colorful friend group won’t fit in a cultural organization because those clubs are, well, cultural. Greek life isn’t going to tell pocs to fuck off. They need you to pose as tokens for their “the new class is SO adorable, and look at our light sprinkling of diversity so we don’t look racist” picture! 

The main reason you rush, however, is because, on a predominantly white campus, you want to feel included, to be validated by the majority. You just want to find a supportive, loving community of sisters, even if that community is pretty racist, and I guess classist, and, well, also sexist, and, oh, really all the other -ists. 

So, you and your friends rush with hopes of joining together and one day making those little tear-jerking speeches about lifelong sisterhood. Boy, were you wrong. You guys get separated immediately. Soon enough, you notice a very distinct pattern.

Sororities seem to think rush is a game of Uno. They try to match you with girls of the same race. There are few people of color who stay in the rush process -- and higher in the “rankings” the less people of color you’ll find. If you’re at the “top,” you don’t hang out with your own race because, well, fuck that: now you’re rubbing shoulders with the colonisers. Oh, how sweet the taste of power. If you’re at the “bottom,” it’s a fine reminder that if you’re not white - and generally blonde - you can stay at the bottom of the deck.

Soon enough you’re the one person of color in your pledge class. Or, if not the one person of color, the one token of your race. Think any 2000s chick flick diversity. There’s basically one slot for each race so you gotta fight for your place, just like in the battle of… I’ll stop myself right there. If you’re thinking “no you’re wrong! There are a lot of minorities in my pledge class!” Just you wait. THEY ABOUT TO DROP FASTER THAN WHEN THE COLONISERS ARRIVED. THERE. I SAID IT. 

Don’t forget all the times they’re gonna mix you guys up! Remember when your fellow sisters called you Stephanie, the name of the only other girl of your race? Or when your house mom put down Caroline’s picture instead of yours on the housing contract? Ah, those were the good times.

Then once you start living in the house you gotta eat all this white people food and make so much useless small talk all the time. But what you’re really going to get sick of is being asked about diversity and inclusion, led by a white D&I chair, in a room full of white people, who try not to look at you while asking the question, but who really want you to say something. Then you start to compare yourself against other people of color in Greek life and question your own racial identity. On top of everything, your own race shits on you for being white-washed. 

So once again, congratulations. When you finally become the one person of color left in your white pledge class, don’t forget to call Uno.