Say
It Ain't So: Frats Gone Mild
Colleges
are on a binge to tame fraternities.
But
angry members (and alums) are fighting back
Four
nervous freshmen huddle on the sidewalk outside the Delta Upsilon
house at Colgate University. It's homecoming weekend at the
2,750-student school in upstate New York, the party inside the house
is raging, and they're on a quest for beer. They take out their
wallets, eyeball their fake ID s, and consider the wisdom of
presenting them to the private security guards at DU's front door.
Deciding the ID s won't pass muster, they keep walking.
They
don't have to go far to find a party they can get into. In the
backyard of a nearby private house, there are no security guards and
no colored wristbands for the underage. This parallel party universe
is the domain of the brothers of Delta Kappa Epsilon, a renegade
fraternity that Colgate barred from campus for refusing to sell its
house to the school and join a new student-residence initiative. But
while the college threatened to expel any students who set foot in the
DKE house, the order continues in exile. At the house where some
brothers now live, they continue to provide for their classmates: kegs
of light beer, rock music, and that ubiquitous collegiate drinking
game, beer pong. And the occasional joint is smoked.
Homeless.
This was exactly the type of scene Colgate University hoped to
eradicate last year when it forced 10 fraternities and sororities to
sell their houses to the university or face derecognition. In
school-owned buildings, all parties must be registered in advance, and
private catering companies--complete with ID-checking security
guards--must run events where alcohol is served. DKE, the only
fraternity that refused to sell, filed a lawsuit charging that the
school violated its right to freely associate as well as antitrust
laws by exerting monopoly-like control over the student housing
market. Last month, the frat asked the local district attorney to
investigate the legality of the housing plan. The university
steadfastly defends its actions, saying its plan will bolster Greek
life. The frat, however, feels endangered. "The situation sucks
because we cannot sit down to dinner in our own house," says Sam
Higgins, DKE president.
Colgate's
effort is a particularly contentious example of a trend toward greater
university control of Greek communities. In recent weeks, frats in at
least five other states have been fighting derecognition, takeover
bids from universities, and community ordinances aimed at quieting
their raucous ways. For too long, many schools argue, the Greek system
has been a haven for Animal House- style
behavior: hazing, sexual assaults, and rampant binge drinking. Efforts
to bring frats to heel have followed a similar pattern. Schools
require more students to live on campus, depriving the fraternities of
revenue generated by residents. Then schools either purchase property
or, like Colgate, deny recognition to off-campus houses, compelling
the fraternities to sell. Many schools, including the University of
South Florida, George Washington University, and the University of
Connecticut, have built Greek villages with dorm-style living for
frats and sororities. Others have banned private fraternal societies
altogether, to the dismay of traditionalists who call Greek life part
and parcel of the college experience.
For much
of Greek history, the relationship between administrators and
fraternal societies was symbiotic. Fraternities assumed responsibility
for feeding, housing, and entertaining students long before student
life became the purview of the modern college. The arrangement worked
well, especially at more remote campuses, like Colgate, where social
outlets were limited. As a result, fraternities sit on some of the
best land around colleges, making them appealing targets for
cash-flush schools eager to expand. In the past 20 years, however, the
relationship between schools and their Greek communities has
deteriorated. When the drinking age was raised to 21 in the early
1980s, campus social life began to shift even further toward
fraternities as a source of entertainment. Communities began passing
zoning laws limiting the spread of students into residential
neighborhoods, and in the wake of numerous injuries and tragic deaths,
concerns over campus safety, from fire codes to binge drinking, became
a public obsession.
Meanwhile,
colleges have expanded their educational mission, often blurring the
line between classroom and dorm room. "We don't care what
students do outside the classroom, so long as that experience is
educational," says Adam Weinberg, Colgate's dean. "In the
old Greek system, there were too many wasted educational
moments." To that ambitious end, the school now offers theme
dorms, including Peace Studies House, Ecology House, and Asia Interest
House. "Residential liberal arts schools are in danger of
becoming quaint, and residential initiatives are an effort to update
[their] relevance," says Scott Meiklejohn, a Colgate trustee and
vice president for planning and institutional advancement at Bowdoin
College, which eliminated its Greek system five years ago.
While
they may bridle at increased oversight, frats are often willing to
sell. Chapters generally own their houses; students and alumni boards
are responsible for everything from roof repairs to insurance bills.
"Many fraternity houses are getting worn out, and alumni are more
than happy to have colleges assume responsibility for maintenance and
safety," says Ron Binder, director of Greek affairs at Bowling
Green State University and president-elect of the Association of
Fraternity Advisors. Indeed, at Colgate, the DKE house is the sole
holdout. But changing the fraternity system can be problematic at some
schools, Binder says, especially if former Greek alumni have fond
memories of college years.
No
bequest for you! At Colgate, 1958 grad Charles Sanford, a
trustee emeritus, is the loudest voice of opposition. Though Sanford's
name is on the school's field house, the Colorado home-building
mogul--who flies to meetings of the trustees on his private jet--says
he has written a planned $15 million bequest to the school out of his
will, decrying what he calls social engineering gone awry.
"Colgate argues that fraternities get in the way of intellectual
development as designed by the college," Sanford says. "But
they provide real campus diversity and a laboratory for conflict
resolution, leadership training, and financial management." He
formed a group of students and alumni opposed to the plan and argued
his case before the board of trustees this fall--so far to no avail.
Others say changes were long overdue. "We tried imposing more
rules, rules, rules, but it was untenable," says Colgate
President Rebecca Chopp. Changing frat culture on campus had been
discussed for years; an alcohol-related car wreck in 2000, which
killed four college students and sent a DKE to prison for vehicular
manslaughter, was the catalyst for bringing the frats under control.
Though
Colgate has met resistance, time is on the administration's side.
While the lawsuit works its way through the courts, the DKE house
remains vacant, draining chapter coffers. Walking around the empty
house--only alumni can enter--Sean Devlin, a DKE brother who graduated
last year, says the impasse will continue until the school offers a
written guarantee that the house will remain a DKE residence after the
sale. "There is support from the alumni to fight for our house
and our history, and we'll do that as long as we can." Still,
while fraternal traditions stretch back centuries, the student
institutional memory is short. Four years from now, Colgate's Greek
system may be flourishing or it may be extinct, but none of the
current students will have known the freewheeling old-school frats.
And the freshmen who partied with the DKE brothers-in-exile will all
have graduated.