I remember that 30 or so years ago, when my sorority ended hazing, I was annoyed.
When I pledged, I don’t remember having to do anything crazy. I really don’t remember anything except having to do community service, which was a good thing, or possibly clean up the kitchen in our suite.
I’d heard tell of girls who pledged before me having to go to the mall in their pajamas, lie down and “sizzle like bacon.”
It was ridiculous, I thought, that the new girls didn’t have to pay their dues a little bit, and I don’t mean financially. They definitely had to do that.
Lord only knows what went on in the fraternities. One story I was told was about guys having to sit — naked — on a block of ice and say the alphabet, or some silliness.
National Hazing Prevention Week was last week, by the way.
You may have heard about the alleged hazing incident at the University of Central Arkansas in Conway. It made some national websites, thanks to the excellent reporting by The Echo, the student-run newspaper at UCA. Full disclosure — my husband is the adviser. That’s what he does, too — advise. He doesn’t tell the students what to write or how to write it. He gets lots of phone calls at night when the computers are down, or the students’ ID cards won’t work on the building doors or for dozens of other reasons.
To recap, a fraternity guy stood in a sorority-chapter room full of new members — I was informed they’re not called pledges anymore — and, after a stern speech about them working together and holding their sisters “accountable,” ordered the girls to do pushups. There was a lot of laughter from the girls at first, mainly from the older members, including some who videoed the scene on their phones.
One of the sorority members called out the names of two new members and in a loud voice told the girls to stop talking. The fraternity guy said loudly “Why are y’all still talking?” in a voice that, honestly, at 52 years old, sent a little shiver down my spine. I do not like male figures talking to me harshly. Never have. My daddy never raised his voice to me, and I just don’t like it.
At that point, the laughter stopped. I wonder what would have happened if one of the new members had stood up, refusing to take part?
The university administration determined this was just a joke — a joke gone “horribly wrong,” according to the university spokesperson in a television interview I heard. I’m confused.
I think if it went “horribly wrong,” the guy would have done something like sit on the girls’ backs or made them do pushups all night.
OK. So, I guess if a fraternity member paddles someone, and it gets out of hand, the members can say it was a joke. We just meant to give a few love taps!
But still, if it went “horribly wrong,” why didn’t anybody get in trouble?
Some people have wondered aloud whether it’s because of the embarrassment that it might cause with the newly opened Greek Village, or that the weekend after the incident, alumni were invited to tour the houses.
Then the inevitable happened —stacks of The Echo newspapers were stolen from some buildings. (And that’s theft, no matter how you look at it.) Kill-the-Messenger syndrome started. The student reporters were castigated by some for doing their jobs. They also got a lot of praise for bringing the incident to light.
The point is not that making the girls do pushups “wasn’t a big deal.” Nobody seemed to be in danger of dying from those pushups (especially, as someone pointed out, how pitiful the skinny sorority girls were at doing them).
Here’s what the university policy says:
It defines hazing as “any intentional action taken or situation created, whether on university property, to produce mental or physical discomfort, embarrassment, harassment or ridicule.”
Specifically, the policy lists “calisthenics, such as situps, pushups, etc.” I did not see an asterisk that said “unless it’s a joke.”
I wonder if my old sorority is still following the no-hazing rules, or if they’re making pledges sizzle like bacon?
I hope not. Hazing is no joke.
Or is it?
Senior writer Tammy Keith can be reached at (501) 327-0370 or tkeith@arkansasonline.com.