The summer before I came to college, an older friend of mine gave me National Lampoon's Animal House as a graduation present.
"I want you to know what to expect," he told me.
So one lazy summer afternoon I popped the tape into the VCR and laughed my way through the next two hours even though it would be some time before I could fully understand that there really are people out there like Bluto, Flounder, Otter and even even Mandy Pepperidge.
Now, I wasn't completely clueless as to what college life would be like. I had friends who were in college, I had visited over a dozen different campuses, and I even briefly dated a college girl while I was in high school. And I knew that Duke would be somewhat different--that instead of rows of fraternity houses Duke would offer me rows of tents, erected in homage to king basketball instead of king alcohol.
Still, the whole concept of fraternity life was strange to me. No one in my immediate family or circle of friends had ever joined one, and it seemed that no tour guide ever had anything specific to say about them. It was as if the greek system was present on a certain campus or it wasn't--and that was all there was to say about it.
So I came to college knowing about fraternities only that which I had seen and heard: mainly Animal House.
My first frat party wasn't bad at all. The girl I went with seemed to be just as confused by the whole experience as I was. And even in a semi-drunken state, I still knew all the words to "Livin' on a Prayer," so I was set.
No, Duke's frats weren't quite as bad as the Deltas from Animal House. But upon first glance they weren't much better either.
My first impression was that Greek letters seemed only to represent different tastes in music and varying levels of attractiveness of women who hung around the sections. Other than that, alcohol was doled out in scant quantities if you were a freshman male, the floors were equally disgusting and sticky everywhere you went, and chances were high that someone was puking in the grass outside or sitting motionless on the cold concrete stairs with eyes dilated and most senses dulled.
So, why would anyone join a frat, I asked an upperclassman friend.
This is what he told me: "Well it helps you get laid. And there's nice housing."
When you put it like that.
But I wasn't convinced. It may be nice to live on Main West Campus I thought, but in a stuffy basement that reeks of yeast more than a bakery? As for that other benefit, it's always been my opinion that the frat guys who get the most action are also the ones who can easily get a girl on their own. Those who had trouble attracting girls all their lives were also the ones you'd find drunk and stumbling around aimlessly, somewhat disappointed that the Greek letters on their T-shirts never quite transformed them into the Don Juans they thought they would become when they pledged.
So when someone slipped a Greek Way under my door in the spring of my freshman year, I didn't pay much attention. I wasn't greek material and I thought--and saw--that fraternity life had little to offer me.
Three years later I'm the president of a fraternity--and it was the best decision I have made at Duke.
What gives? Well, I found a fraternity that fit my values. My sophomore year I found out that there was a fraternity at Duke composed of guys who all swore they would never join a fraternity. It sounds funny, I know, but it makes sense to me in a very real way.
But it took some convincing. In fact, I wouldn't have joined if I hadn't found out that some acquaintances I respected were already members.
However, once I was accepted into the bonds of brotherhood, a new world opened up to me. Suddenly, I found out that I had a network of carefully chosen fellow college students and alumni across the nation that I could call on whenever I needed assistance. More importantly, I found out that I now had a constant group of friends with whom I could go on road trips or play a game of pick-up football on some Saturday afternoon. And these aren't just friendships of convenience; the sharing of common experiences, both obstacles and joys, has allowed us to extend and deepen our friendships.
Give fraternities a second chance. You may discover that there's more to these organizations than first meets the eye.
Marko Djuranovic is a Trinity senior and former health and science editor of The Chronicle.
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