yikes. this washington monthly article about a new book, pledged: the secret life of sororities (btw, why does every non-fiction book title have to have essentially two titles, the short catchy eye-grabber, then the unnecessarily long post-colon explanation?) is kind of a downer:

Mothers, don't let your babies grow up to be pledges. Sorority pledges, that is. Because if you do--according to Alexandra Robbins's often startling study of college sororities--your daughters may soon be piercing their private parts, guzzling grain alcohol until they pass out, and pimping the sexual favors of their sorority sisters. And that's not all. They may be vomiting after every meal to be as slender as their sisters. They may be taking recreational drugs and suffering date rape more frequently than most college students.

If this sounds less refined than the perky, pearl-draped image of college sororities depicted in the last Reese Witherspoon movie, it surely is. And these examples only scratch the surface of a disturbing subculture ruled by out-of-control peer pressure and the lust for prestige. Consider the rampant eating disorders that Robbins reports from one campus, where a plumber was kept busy clearing the pipes that were continually clogged with the vomit of whole housefuls of bulimic sorority sisters determined to eat heartily and still fit into their size 2 jeans.

Robbins's book, both fascinating and eye-opening, tells us a great deal about well-to-do young women in America, and about the pressures on them. It describes a world in which some sorority houses choose their new members on the basis of hair color, and where a young college woman's chief worry is securing her date for the next formal dance. And these are the less worrisome parts of the whole. No matter how many news stories you may have read about hazing incidents, binge drinking, and "Greek" rituals, the details that Robbins reports are often worse. She writes, for example, about the "little sister" programs that some fraternities continue to sponsor, despite their being forbidden on many campuses. The supposedly prestigious and sought-after position of little sister, Robbins writes, includes "sex with many of the (fraternity) brothers, with gang rape a distinct possibility."

damn. that is some sensational stuff. so it doesn't surprise me to find that the author, who went undercover at a nameless sorority at a nameless university in order to do research, is also a contributing writer at cosmopolitan magazine. ie, home of monthly headlines such as "i almost died at the gas station--how you can protect yourself while filling up," "a man raped me in a well-lit aisle at the grocery store--why searching for the perfect melon can turn deadly," and "you're definitely going to die of cancer." you know, fun stuff that girls like to read.

i went to the university of virginia, where something like, oh, a billion students were in either fraternities or sororities. i never rushed, never wanted to, and normally stayed far away from the sorority scene, though i did partake of frat parties quite a bit, and had some sorority friends.

i definitely made fun of the sororities my fair share, especially during the rush period, when you would see herds--literally, 30 or 40--of girls, clad in black peacoats and black asspants, walking their way up to rugby road to be judged on hair color, body size and family wealth. no doubt about it--the majority of sororities at uva were judgemental, shallow, and came up with terrible slogans for their bid night t-shirts ("Queen For a Day, Crowned for Life", or "If we didn't get you, we didn't want you."). i won't make any bones about it: i hold no love for the greek system.

but, i find it hard to believe the culture that pledged reports on is 100% accurate. i don't think the author lied; however, i'm willing to believe that she chose to selectively report the events that happened. like, i don't know about this whole underworld sexual pimping sorority that she mentions, or the constant bulimia. obviously, some terrible stuff has gone down at fraternity hazings, and sororities have no doubt had an equal share. i just think that this book is probably aiming to become part of the whole culture that terrifies women into consumerism . and that kind of stuff needs to stop.

mothers, don't freak out: i'm fairly sure that if your daughter joins a sorority, she won't become a bulimic, genitila-piercing whore. she might drink some beer, might do some drugs, might have sex she regrets, and will probably succumb to peer pressure on more than one matter. but i really don't think it's as bad as pledged makes it out to be. of course, i was never in a sorority. so it might all be true.