The Fraternity and the Undergraduate (collection)/The Chapter Letter
"We have the best bunch of freshmen this year we have ever had and the best bunch in college," an alumnus of one of our leading fraternities said to me early in the autumn.
"What do you think of Klein?" I asked with a desire to show interest and a willingness to reveal the fact that I knew some of his men.
"I don't know," he replied. "I have not seen any of them; but I read about them in the chapter letter in our quarterly."
A considerable number of fraternity publications come to my table during the year through the courtesy of editors and fraternity men with whom I am acquainted, and as I look them through there is no department of these journals which awakens in me more interest or gives me more pleasure than that one devoted to the letters from the various chapters of the fraternity. I do not think that the most unsophisticated ever believes what he reads in a chapter letter. It contains a variety of fiction which is unique. The facts are often drawm from the imagination, the pathos is generally quite ingenuous, and the humor is more often than otherwise entirely unconscious and unintentional. The following, quoted from a southern correspondent to one of the journals, and breathing of soft music and palm trees, has the tender sentimental touch:
"Haying given an unusual amount of smokers and dances, we drew the scholastic year to a glorious close with our annual Commencement Banquet. Were I to attempt to recount in detail all the pleasure and glory given to Alpha that night I would consume more than our space. Let it suffice to say that there were more than forty seated 'round our festive board' including ourselves and our ladies. The banquet hall was decorated with more than a hundred college pennants, Florida palms, and pitcher plants. Soft music drifted from behind the palms while we slowly, and with dignity, sacrificed eighteen delightful courses. Ever and anon the laughter of the girls and the 'speel' of the boys were silenced by the thundering oratory of the toastmaster and his toasters. So much for the banquet."
I recall that O. Henry has one of his characters say with reference to a bibulous young fellow who had kissed a plain-featured waitress and who afterwards apologized for his rudeness, "He wasn't no gentleman, or he'd never have apologized," which suggests to me that no one but a southerner ever takes a "lady" to his annual dance.
I have never gone into the history of these letters which are almost universally at present a part of fraternity journals, but I have no doubt that if it were possible to do so it would be found that the practice of requiring them grew up from a desire on the part of officers and members to become better acquainted with the entire membership of the organization, to know something of the personal lives of the individuals composing each chapter, and to bind the different chapters more closely together. It is no doubt something of the same purpose expressed in a broader way, perhaps, that the members of a family widely separated now have who write regularly to each other of the personal happenings in their own lives, or that personal friends have who through regular correspondence attempt to keep the fires of friendship brightly burning.
In the early history of Greek-letter fraternities there were few chapters of each organization, and these few were usually close together. It was possible for a wide-awake man in those days to know personally a large percentage of the men who made up the undergraduate ranks of his organization and through the quarterly letters to know something about every other man whom he did not know personally. As the fraternity roll was increased and the interests of the fraternity widened the need of something to bind the various chapters together, to strengthen unity, and to bring the undergraduates more fully into personal acquaintance with each other was more and more felt, and the regular chapter letter was made a requirement under penalty of a fine. There have been many attempts made in committees, and conferences, and congresses to repeal this requirement, but they have always been unsuccessful, as I suspect they are likely to continue to be. The letters do a work in the fraternity which I think is worth doing, and though I feel strongly that they do not accomplish it as well as it could be done or as well as it should be done, I should be sorry to have the custom discontinued.
I have never been a very willing correspondent, and having been called upon to write many and various sorts of letters, I can sincerely sympathize with the man who has laid upon him the unsolicited task of writing letters to an editor whom he never saw, at a time when he would much rather do something else, and upon a subject in which he is likely to find little personal interest. It is a task which in the fraternity is too frequently, I am sure, laid upon one of the younger members of the chapter, generally a sophomore if my reading of these letters is correct. Such a task might very much better be undertaken by an older man who has had more experience, who knows more of the history and traditions of the chapter about which he is writing. The older man, too, should have corrected or outgrown some of the sophomoric rhetoric with which these letters so much abound.
For some months I have been carrying on a weekly correspondence with a young boy at "prep" school whose guardian I am and in whose intellecual, physical, and moral progress I have no little interest. His letters to me are full of the results of football games, of parties, of "Bojack" parades, of escapades off campus. I am interested in these matters, of course, but the things I want most to know he is not likely to mention. I was reviewing his Latin with him at Christmas time and came to a chapter of Cæsar with which he was totally unfamiliar. "They had that while I was in the hospital," he explained to me. "When were you in the hopsital?" I asked, somewhat in surprise. "Oh, in November," he replied, "Didn't I write you about that?" And so incidentally it came out during his vacation that he was taking piano lessons, that there had been a fire in his dormitory, that his roommate had had scarlet fever, and that he had failed his mathematics. He was quite surprised to find that he had neglected to tell me any of these things in his letters, or that I should be interested in their recital. What to me was vital was to him only a passing and a trifling incident better forgotten than immortalized in print. His letters have not truthfully reflected his real life. I have felt as I have gone over these chapter letters that in many if not in most cases they told very little of what I should most like to know of the lives and accomplishments of the men in the active chapters.
The first thing that strikes me about these letters is their oppressive optimism. They reek with panygyrics; they express nothing short of superlatives; they are turgid with laudation. One who has had even a moderate amount of experience with imperfect human nature must have something of the feeling toward the writers of these letters that a friend of mine had toward a mutual acquaintance whom he characterized as "imaginative and expedient rather than rigidly and puritanically literal." The letters that are before me as I write these paragraphs are pregnant with "brightest prospects for the year," are full of "the most promising material," and "swell with pride" as they introduce "the best freshmen in college and the most brilliant that the fraternity has ever pledged." The semester that is closed is "the most successful in the history of the fraternity," and the one that is opening "bids fair to eclipse those of former years." As one reads them he hesitates to believe the baldest statement of fact.
I recall a letter written by a member of a chapter with which I was acquainted which began "After closing a remarkably successful college year," and continued with a page of similar enthusiasm. The "remarkably successful college year" for them had in reality been full of disaster. The commissary through mismanagement had left the fraternity nearly $1,000 in debt, one of their prominent upperclassmen had been dismissed for cribbing, the highest officer of the fraternity had neglected his duty throughout his entire term of office, and the freshmen had been allowed to run wild so that they had brought down the scholastic standing of the organization to the bottom of the fraternity list and yet it had been a "remarkably successful college year." I wondered what the correspondent would have said if they had accomplished something.
The following modest recital illustrates the sort of stuff which I have in mind, and which everyone discounts as he reads it. The only modification which I have made is to change the names. It looks as if Lyons was a hard worked man.
"Our annual reception was one, indeed, to be proud of, and pronounced the greatest fête of the Commencement season. At Commencement Lyons did honor to our noble fraternity by being awarded the medal given by the News, the college paper, for the best short story. Lyons, also, tied for the "Ready Writer's" medal.
"We are represented on the college paper, the News, by George as associate editor and Smith as circulation manager. On the Monthly by Weaver and Lyons as editor-in-chief and business manager. At the last meeting of the athletic association, Lyons was elected president and Smith, treasurer. While we have received these honors, we did not secure them by political schemes, but attained them through merit."
The estimate which the fraternity correspondent places upon his chapter and upon its accomplishments is very seldom a reasonable one, or one which is born out by the facts. I have known but one man who admitted that his own chapter was not the best in college, and I doubt very much if he would have done so had he been making a statement in the chapter letter. I have seldom known a man who could really look at his chapter in a cold-blooded and unemotional way and judge it fairly. Some years ago my office sent out to the various fraternities which have chapters at the University of Illinois a questionnaire asking, among other things, that the thirty or so chapters of Greek-letter fraternities then represented at Illinois be ranked in order of excellence or standing. The papers were to be returned without signature, so that it was not possible to tell what fraternity had filled out any one of the papers. It was interesting to note that practically every fraternity was given first place on at least one paper, and it was not hard to guess that most of the organizations had ranked themselves first. If the estimates of correspondents are to count for anything the men who write must be able to see their own faults and the weaknesses of the organizations which they represent, and they must be willing to admit some of these faults. An upperclassman is more likely to do this than is a freshman or a sophomore.
A third characteristic of these letters which seems to me to show a weakness of judgment is the fact that nothing is seized upon a fit subject for praise and dissemination with such eagerness and self-congratulation as is the fact that some one of the brothers has been elected to something or has joined some organization outside of the fraternity. There is verily more joy over the one or two lucky brothers who get into the most insignifiant organizations than over all the others who stay in the chapter house and do the real work of the fraternity. A few excerpts will suffice to illustrate my point.
"The coming year promises to be one of great prosperity. The chapter is better represented in all lines of activity than any other organization here. We have two varsity captains, manager of the musical clubs, an athletic manager, an inter-scholastic manager and an assistant manager, upper and lower class debaters, editor of the 1917 Sphinx with three men on the board, a class president, and other minor offices."
"'Bull' Dunne made Archone, junior law society, and 'Swats' Bartelme was appointed stage manager of the Comedy Club for next year. At the all-campus election held in May, 'Tim' Paisley was elected assistant track manager for 1915-16. With these honors to begin the year, and the prospect of having every active brother back again, we are confident that the ensuing year will prove an exceptionally successful one for us."
After reading such an item I am moved to ask in the language of the undergraduate, "What d'you mean successful?" The statements sound like the flattery printed in a country newspaper when the freshman goes home from college.
The next illustration is rather characteristic, and seems to indicate that the Kahle brothers might be the busy men at the picnic.
"For the coming year there are bright prospects. The candidates under consideration are very promising and much is expected from the older brothers. Rhoades is a member of the College Council and Rankin and H. B. Kahle members of the Interfraternity Conference. R. F. Kahle is associate editor of the Campus, the college weekly, and assistant editor of the Kaldron, an annual publication. He is also treasurer of the Modern Problems Club and on the debating team. Boyd is assistant football manager this year and succeeds to the managership next year.
"Moore, Baker, and H. B. Kahle have been initiated into Alpha Chi Sigma, the chemical fraternity. McKinney has been chosen leader of the Mandolin Club and H. B. Kahle is manager of the combined Glee and Mandolin Clubs.
"Moore is business manager of the Literary Monthly, and also secretary of the Athletic Association.
"McKinney, Wilber, and H. B. Kahle are out for the basketball team. R. F. Kahle is in charge of the cross-country running squads."
I do not wish to minimize such honors as are mentioned here. They are interesting, some of them are worth while, but they are after all only incidental to the real life and work of the chapter and should not have the emphatic position in the letter. It takes little genius in college when one has influence to get into things, but it often requires backbone and finesse to keep out.
Scholastic success unless attended with some public praise or recognition is made little of in these letters, and if one did not know to the contrary, one might very well ask himself when he is reading whether or not the fraternity man ever attains any scholastic honors. The item quoted below touches the scholastic situation with a delicacy which deserves commendation.
"Illinois Beta is now enjoying its summer vacation after a most successful year. Most of the brothers passed their final examinations satisfactorily and from the outlook we should take a high place among the fraternities at Illinois.
"This year we lose three men by graduation. Three other brothers will not return next year having left college to go into business."
One can scarcely help wondering if the three brothers who have left college to go into business may not have been induced somewhat to take that step because they were not included in the fortunate list of those who passed their final examination. There is no mention either of any brother who might in passing have done himself and the chapter credit. It is considered a sufficient cause for congratulation that so large a number succeeded in getting by, and no questions are asked or information given as to the margin above a mere passing grade which the brothers attained. Since the doing of his college work is the main thing for which an undergraduate is supposed to go to college, the fellow who accomplishes this result with distinguished credit to himself is certainly entitled to some special mention even in the chapter letter.
One could wish sometimes that the writers had adopted a more direct and a simpler style. The following is the introductory sentence to a letter full of the most ridiculously exaggerated eulogium. One feels as he is reading it as if he were wallowing in a mire of oratorical slush.
"Fifty-six years of Iowa Zeta's existence have passed into the realm of history, and as Apollo casts his radiant gleams upon her fifty-seventh annus we wish first of all to introduce seven new brothers."
Each issue of one fraternity journal which comes to my table is full of such humor from the first letter to the last.
The effect of all this inflated style, exaggerated self-praise, and failure to realize the relative value of things, is bad. The letters seem artificial, insincere, conceited. They remind me often of the conversation of two imaginative small boys the one trying to outstrip the other in tales of personal accomplishment and adventure. They too often lack character, force, and real truthfulness, and they seldom give us any adequate idea of the actual condition of the chapter.
Having heaped so much criticism upon the chapter letters as I have found them, I ought at least to make a few suggestions as to their improvement, and this I shall attempt to do.
I have never seen any advantage to the local chapter or to the fraternity at large in fabricating the facts. Such a procedure seldom deceives anyone. When a pale, haggard-eyed undergraduate comes into my office and tells me that he is in riotous good health and that he never felt better in his life, I know that he is practicing the faith cure or lying, though I do not always go to the trouble of telling him so. So when a fraternity boasts of his chapter's having the best year in its history, of its having pledged seventeen of the most superb freshmen that ever came out of prep school, and of being on the whole the most inexpressibly successful and influential bunch ever tolerated by the college authorities, every one who has had any experience knows about where they stand. To blow one's horn mellifluously and modestly is a task so difficult that the ordinary correspondent might better not attempt it. Present the facts fairly and as they are. Tell the truth. If the fellows have succeeded, say so; but we have all learned that life is not entirely sunshine. If you have lost out, admit it; if things are wrong and you have made mistakes, face the facts honestly. It is unquestionably bad taste to air one's family troubles in public, but one ought not to be afraid to tell the truth and admit one's weaknesses to one's family. The man or chapter that is supremely self-satisfied will never improve. Optimism may be carried so far as to become a weakness. When you revise your letters, cut out ninety-five per cent of the self-satisfaction and all of the self-praise.
Try so far as is possible to give an adequate idea of the personality of the individual men composing the chapter. Single each man out and give a few details as to what each is like, where he came from, and what he has done, especially as to the new men, for you are presenting these brothers to a wide range of friends who do not know them but who would be glad to get better acquainted. Tell who recommended them, to whom they are related, and what work they are taking up. If King is the youngest brother of Elden's wife, and if Cross comes from Warren's town, these facts will help to introduce them, to individualize them. If Wallace was a high school orator, or Wright a cross-country star, these are good things to say. The correspondent has a fine chance to present the characteristics and personality of every man in the chapter, and in so doing he will help to carry out the original purpose of the chapter letters which was, as I have said, to bring each chapter and each man in the chapter into closer personal touch with all the other chapters.
We are all intensly interested, I am sure, in the growth and development of the institutions in which our various chapters are located, and as for myself I am most interested in the life, the customs, and the traditions of these institutions—the local environment and the conditions which so strongly influence undergraduate life and which differentiate the character of one institution from that of another. How little of this tremendous difference is revealed by the chapter letters is unbelievable until one has read them in an attempt to discover it. Have you ever tried to determine, for example, how different undergraduate life and traditions at Albion are from those at the University of Virginia or at Tulane from the University of Minnesota? Have you ever thought to what extent undergraduate practice at an institution of more than ten thousand students like the University of Michigan or the University of Illinois differs and must of necessity differ from that of a smaller college like Beloit or Muhlenburg? The chapter letters give us very little conception of these differences because the correspondent, perhaps, having in most cases been in but one class of institution, has taken for granted that matters are run in every institution as they are run in his own, and has not given the time or the thought necessary to make these differences clear. He does not realize how interesting and illuminating his letters would be if he would take such trouble. I have looked, for example, through many fraternity quarterlies in an attempt to get an adequate idea of the specific class scraps held in various institutions throughout this country, but though I find constant references to them, so little detail has been given that I have never been able to understand in what way one contest differs from another. The correspondent has simply taken for granted that we know all about it and lets the matter go at that. We read about the abolishment of the "tank scrap" at Purdue, or the "sack rush" at Illinois, but we get no idea as to what these contests were. The same thing is true of a thousand other details of undergraduate life.
I was very much interested, I can not say surprised, at a recent interfraternity conference when in conversation with a prominent fraternity man of New York, to find how little he knew of the University of Illinois. He was wholly unfamiliar with its history, its equipment, its endowment, its curriculum, and its attendance. He did not know whether it was located in Chicago or in Kankakee and the chapter letters he had read were calculated to give him very little information on these subjects. Before I commented too severely upon his ignorance I took time to ask myself how much I knew about the University of Oklahoma, or Rutgers, or Miami, and before anyone who reads this article grows conceited I should like to inquire how much he knows about Cincinnati University, or the College of Charleston, or the Agricultural College at Manhattan, Kansas, or Tufts, or Bowdoin, and how concrete an idea is it possible for him to get from the chapter letter in his fraternity magazine. All this suggests to me that the letters ought to tell every year something about the college—its aims, its extent, its growth, its accomplishments, and the atmosphere which surrounds it.
I should feel it unfortunate, too, if the letters did not contain considerable specific reference to undergraduate activities. Athletics, dramatics, social events, college publications form a large part of the life of most undergraduates and a larger part of their interest. College papers are often criticized because they devote so large an amount of their reading matter to the discussion of these undergraduate activities and so small a part to the more important things of college life. It will always be so so long as those who have charge of college publications are young and interested in youthful activities. I have frequently remarked that if a prominent professor should die on the day of an important football game, the college paper the next morning would very likely give the game the front page while the professor would be modestly stowed away somewhere on the inside of the sheet. Since this point of view is so common I should feel that the chapter letter would not adequately and truthfully represent the undergraduate point of view unless it devoted a considerable amount of the space allotted to it to college activities and not wholly to those activities in which some brother was starring.
There was a time, I suppose, when a fraternity man felt that his duty was done if he knew his own fraternity and showed interest in it. I have even heard fraternity men say that they did not care to form the acquaintance of men of other organizations, and that they had little or no interest in what other fraternities were doing. Such a feeling, fortunately, is about gone, and fraternity men all over the country are being drawn more closely together, are stimulating each other to mutual improvement, and are showing a real interest in each other's welfare. Anything that has to do with fraternity life, fraternity relationships, and fraternity improvement and advancement in your college ought to form an interesting part of the chapter letter. If fraternities come, as I think they will, into a higher place in our college life, it will be because they pull together, because they are willing to learn from each other, and because they are willing to recognize each other's merits. If they go down, they will go down together. What I have said of self-praise does not apply, I believe, to praise of one's neighbors, and the fraternity correspondent will have got a long way when he reaches the point of discussing interfraternity conditions and relations in his college and has judgment and generosity enough to recognize a rival fraternity's strong points.
An adequate judgment of the chapter's standing and worth, a personal estimate of each member's character, accomplishments, and personality, some details of college activities and college customs, and an interested review of what fraternities in general are doing at the institution from which he writes are among the things which a correspondent can use to make his chapter letters more interesting and more beneficial than some of them now are.
I was visiting one of the large institutions of the Middle West just this week, and by invitation called at one of its beautiful chapter houses. Who should meet me at the door but "Swats" Bartelme still giving the glad hand graciously, and still riotously interested, I have no doubt, in college dramatics. I had no idea when I began this paper that I should ever run onto him.