With the recent protests in cities all across America and calls for justice for George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and many other Black people killed by police violence, a national conversation about racism has emerged. It can be all too easy for non-Black people to label Black Lives Matter a “Black issue,” or as something they don’t need to be thinking about everyday, but in order for any real change to be enacted in our society, everyone has to do their part to check their privilege and be active in their anti-racism.
As a college student, perhaps you have been attending local protests, sharing petitions and information on social media, or donating to bail fund networks. This is all great action to take, but it’s not the only thing you can be doing. Part of anti-racist allyship involves looking at the communities and spaces you occupy, and recognizing where they are complacent to or active in anti-Blackness and racism. These communities could range from your schools to your workplaces, but I’m going to talk about one on-campus community that many of you are a part of: Panhellenic sororities.
Greek life is a hotly contested aspect of the college experience, and its perception is riddled with stereotypes and horror stories. While a lot of those stereotypes — like the "all sorority girls are vapid, party-loving, boy-crazy blonde girls" narrative — are untrue, sorority sisters can and should acknowledge where criticism is valid. The truth is, Panhellenic sororities’ dues make them financially inaccessible to many people (even after scholarships), some activities like mixers enforce norms of heteronormativity, and they are entrenched in a history of systemic racism.
If you’re not familiar with the term, The Conversation defines systemic racism as “how ideas of white superiority are captured in everyday thinking at a systems level: taking in the big picture of how society operates, rather than looking at one-on-one interactions.” In Greek life organizations, this takes effect in ways including but not limited to: rush/recruitment practices (who is encouraged to rush? Who is given a bid?), microaggressions that women of color face from other members of the chapter, and party themes (multiple fraternities and sororities are guilty of parties that condone blackface and racist stereotypes as an acceptable costume).
This isn’t fun to think about, of course, and your knee-jerk response may be to say, “Well, my sorority isn’t like that!” And perhaps that’s true. Maybe your specific chapter is more diverse, or has never been caught doing blackface. But you still benefit from a system that is historically founded in whiteness. Most Greek letter organizations were founded in the 19th century, according to the University of Maine, during an era of slavery, racial segregation, and limited access to higher education. This contextualizes sororities in a history of exclusion and discrimination, the effects of which can be felt to this day.
So, what can you do as a sorority member to hold your organization accountable? I’m glad you asked: