I dropped my daughter off at college last week, and our goodbye was nothing like I had imagined. There were no long hugs. No tears. No standing in the doorway of her dorm room trying to memorize her face before I left.
Instead, it was a quick hug followed by, “I have to go!” She was already late for sorority recruitment orientation.
And just like that….she was gone.
My daughter was dropped from two sororities where she was a legacy
The next morning, I received a text. She had been dropped by two sororities where she was a legacy, based on a video she had submitted months before ever stepping onto campus.
My response to her was simple: “I’m sorry. It’s a numbers game. Focus forward. You still have 14 houses to visit.”
My internal response?
What the heck?
I’ll admit it. I was annoyed.
How could my own sorority, an organization that talks about membership not as four years, but as a lifetime, not even invite my daughter back for a single in-person visit?
Curiosity got the best of me, so I went to the national website and started reading. I found the mission statement. I read about the organization’s values. Then I discovered that in 2020, the sorority had eliminated preferential treatment for legacies.
Fair enough. Times change.
Legacy was good for gifting but not for getting my daughter in
But I also happened upon information encouraging alumni to include the sorority’s foundation in their legacy giving.
I had to laugh at the irony.
Apparently, they may not be particularly interested in my legacy, but they are still interested in my legacy gift.
Okay then. I allowed myself that little moment of irritation and moved on.
Not your people. March on.
And that is exactly what my daughter did.
For the next two days, she visited 14 houses. She sent me texts about kind girls she had met, great conversations she had had and houses she could picture herself joining.
Meanwhile, she was walking miles around campus in dresses and heels, in heat that felt well over 100 degrees, trying to keep her makeup from melting off her face while making conversation with hundreds of complete strangers.
The second round of cuts was more painful than the first
Then came another round of cuts.
This one hurt more.
Some of the houses she had really liked were gone.
She was disappointed. I was disappointed for her.
But she still had seven houses waiting for her.
So she had a choice.
She could walk into those houses carrying the disappointment of the ones that didn’t want her, or she could hold her head high, swallow her pride, put a smile on her face and give the women standing in front of her a real chance.
She chose the latter.
And perhaps that is the part of sorority recruitment we aren’t talking about enough.
Because while social media has turned Rush into a spectacle of coordinated outfits, choreographed dances, matching sneakers and seemingly perfect college girls, there is another side to it.
There is an enormous amount of work happening behind the scenes.
Recruitment is planned for months and the planning it is a lot of work
Many sorority women often return to campus well before classes begin. Recruitment is planned for months. There are recruitment chairs, philanthropy teams, marketing and social media teams, logistics, decorations, songs and dances to learn, conversations to practice, schedules to coordinate and hundreds,sometimes thousands of potential new members moving through houses.
It is essentially a massive student-run organization putting on one of its biggest events of the year. And yes, the dancing is fun to watch.
But that’s not all these organizations do.
Sororities and fraternities across this country raise significant money and awareness for organizations supporting children, cancer research, literacy, people with disabilities and countless other causes. College students are learning how to organize events, manage budgets, lead teams, fundraise, communicate and work toward something larger than themselves.
Does that mean the Greek system is perfect?
Of course not.
Does recruitment sometimes feel superficial? Absolutely.
Can the process feel unfair?
Without question.
But here is the part I keep coming back to: Life is unfair sometimes.
Maybe our job as parents is not to eliminate unfairness
And maybe our job as parents isn’t to eliminate every unfair experience our children encounter.
Maybe our job is to teach them what to do when one happens.
I’ve watched parents online become furious over recruitment.
“This isn’t fair.”
“This system is terrible.”
“My daughter deserved that house.”
“She did everything right.”
I understand the instinct. When our children hurt, we hurt.
But I also wonder when my generation of parents decided that disappointment was something our children should never have to experience.
Teams make cuts.
Auditions make cuts.
Competitive clubs make cuts.
Internships reject applicants.
Colleges reject applicants.
Companies reject applicants.
Sometimes someone else gets the position, the part, the invitation or the opportunity—even when our child worked incredibly hard and did absolutely nothing wrong.
That is life.
The difference with sorority recruitment is that much of it is now happening publicly, wrapped in matching outfits and blasted across TikTok and Instagram. That visibility can make the rejection feel bigger.
Learning how to handle rejection may be one of life’s most important skills
But rejection isn’t new.
And learning how to handle it may be one of the most important skills our daughters take with them into adulthood.
As I write this, my daughter still doesn’t know how her story ends.
She has spent the last two days having deeper conversations and making new connections. Now she waits to find out which houses, if any, she will visit for Preference Round.
She could end up with two houses she loves.
She could end up with one.
She could receive a bid she is thrilled about.
Or she could get the phone call telling her she isn’t receiving a bid at all.
I desperately hope that doesn’t happen.
I’m her mother. Of course I want this to work out for her.
Here is what I will tell my daughter if she doesn’t get any bids
But if it doesn’t, I know what I’ll tell her.
You get to be sad.
You get to be disappointed.
You can even say, “This really stinks.”
And then?
You march on.
You leave your dorm room. You introduce yourself to someone new. You join a club. You go to class. You find your people somewhere else.
Because the real goal of sending our children to college isn’t to make sure nothing bad ever happens to them.
It’s to send them into the world knowing that when something bad does happen, they can handle it.
Maybe she gets a bid.
Maybe she doesn’t.
Either way, this week has already taught her something valuable.
She put herself out there.
She faced rejection.
She walked back into another house with her head held high.
She kept talking.
She kept trying.
She kept marching forward.
And as difficult as that can be for a mother to watch, I think that’s exactly what growing up is supposed to look like.
The author of this post wishes to remain anonymous.
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