The Fraternity and the Undergraduate (collection)/The Greek and the Independent
With us at the University of Illinois, although the fraternities have been in active operation for thirty years and are constantly increasing in number, there has been no general quarrel or ill-feeling or jealousy between the Greeks and independents. We have tried to look ahead and solve our problems before they became too complex, so that the disagreeble situations which have arisen at some of our neighboring institutions we have fortunately escaped. We are, perhaps, more democratic than are the students of some other colleges. A man seldom loses standing by not having money, and very often gains none by possessing it. We are a friendly group; everyone speaks to everyone else when he meets him on the street. I am often pleased when walking with some companion through the student district in the evening, disguised by the enveloping shadows which soften the differences between youth and middle age, to be greeted on all sides with the salutation, "Hello, boys," or "Good evening, fellows." Not knowing who I am, they speak anyway, and reveal by so doing a friendly cosmopolitan spirit, which, to a westerner like myself, is very gratifying. At the dignified New England institution where I did my graduate work, such a custom would have been unthinkable. No one spoke to his seatmate there without an introduction. I sat by a man in an English course three days a week for two-thirds of a year without his giving me a sign of recognition, only for us to find out later that we came from neighboring towns in Illinois and were really only simulating the conservatism of the environs of Boston. As I said, with us it seems unfriendy not to speak to every one, whether he be Greek or independent, whether he come from southern Asia or northern Scandinavia. One man with us is as good as another, provided he is a gentleman who has some character.
Fortunately for us, I believe, the fraternities have never been politically a unit. From the time when the literary societies were the only real fraternities existing, there have been divisions, two factions, two political parties opposing each other in every contest and at every election. The opposition is seldom unfriendly or bitter, but it is keen and definite. It is comparable to the feeling which exists in this country between Democrats and Republicans, or between a man and his wife, who, though they may have different political views and affiliations, yet live a congenial, peaceable life together. No matter how many intrafraternity organizations have arisen to bring the fraternities closer together, and to unify fraternity interests, no matter how many Helmets and Klu Kluxes and Yoxans have been organized to draw their material for membership from the fraternities in general, when the fraternity men have come to the polls the party lines have been closely drawn, and the split has come in about the same place that it did twenty years ago. I am sure that this condition of affairs has worked profit to the fraternities, and kept them far more in general favor than they might have been had they all regularly lined up upon the same side of an issue, for the fraternities to win have had to make friends with the independents, and if an independent wished to win, he must get the support of at least one faction of the fraternities. This state of affairs has made it necessary for anyone running for office, and our fraternity men are regularly office seekers, to make friends pretty generally, if he expected election, both among fraternity men and men independent of such organizations. There is little snobbishness, therefore, and little inclination to draw social and organization lines closely. A good illustration of this condition was seen last semester in the politics of our senior class. The president of the class, a well-known and well-liked fraternity man, was elected without opposition. He was supported on all sides by Greek and independents alike. When it came to the appointment of his committees, instead of selecting a fraternity man for the most important position, as he might very well have done, he chose the strongest and the most influential independent in the institution. The selection was satisfactorv to everyone because it recognized real worth, and put into an important place one of the most respected men in college.
I am, perhaps, for this reason just mentioned, not so well qualified to discuss the relationship between those men who belong to fraternities and those who do not, it may be argued, as someone might be who is familiar with the dissensions that have arisen in various localities or as someone who may have been a part of these disagreements; I am not directly familiar with the petty quarrels that have arisen in too many institutions between the Greeks and the independents, though I have read many of the details in fraternity journals and in the daily newspapers. On the other hand I am not so sure but that I am better qualified than some other man might be who has lived in an atmosphere of dissension and jealously because I know that it is possible for these two classes of undergraduates, conflicting and discordant as they are in some institutions, to get on happily, to recognize each other's merits, to have no ground of disagreement, and in the various political games which are played in the college community to work together harmoniously.
Coming in contact, as I do daily, with all sorts of students and student difficulties, I am most likely to know immediately about all the differences which arise between individual students, between different student organizations, and between Greeks and independents. I am most likely, also, to become entangled unpleasantly in these, and, whether I wish to do so or not, to become a part of them. It often requires a skilful steering between Scylla and Charybdis. I have sometimes been surprised at the relatively small amount of criticism which I, as a college officer, am subjected to because of these relationships. Only this week a rather hot-headed junior said some pretty caustic things to me, because in helping to carry out the details of a quarantine which had been imposed upon a fraternity and a private dormitory, I was somewhat more rigid with the men in the dormitory than I was with the men in the fraternity. His claim was that I trusted the men in the fraternity and put a policeman to watch the comings and goings of the men in the dormitory. I was able to show him that the fraternity was a responsible organization which I had learned to depend upon and which the members themselves took pride in; that when the head of the organization agreed to a line of conduct I was confident that for the good of his organization he would see that it was carried out. The men in the dormitory were not socially or morally inferior, but they were not in any true sense organized; what one man or one group of men would agree to do would seldom affect the rest of the men. There was so little unity, so little concerted action, that I knew it would be quite unsafe to depend upon the fact that they would all abide by any regulation that might be imposed. It was not that the men themselves were different or more entitled to consideration; they lived in a different way, they were controlled by a different organization, and so they must of necessity be managed differently by me. It was not difficult to make my critic see all these things, and to get him to agree that it was quite just that the men in the fraternity should not be treated quite in the same way as the men in the dormitory.
For a good many years we had every fall at the University of Illinois a pretty severe physical contest between the members of the freshman and sophomore classes which involved many hundreds of contestants. Because of their superior experience, even though their numbers were ordinarily inferior, the sophomores usually won. In one instance the tables were turned, and the freshmen came out of the fray victorious. Two exultant freshmen were walking down Green Street discussing the victory and offering each other mutual congratulations. "I don't see how we ever did it," the first one ventured. "Well, I know, kid," the second man explained, emphasizing each syllable by a slap on his companion's back. "It was or-gan-i-za-tion." Whether the freshman was correct or not, it is quite evident to any unprejudiced onlooker that the main difference between the fraternity man and the independent is, as I have said, that one is a part of a coherent organization, and the other is not. Inherently, there is no difference, and it is upon the basis of organization only, and how best to manage men in it, that distinctions should be made. Perhaps this is as good a place as I shall find to say that the theory that all students should be treated alike is as foolish a one as could be promulgated, though I have heard it emphasized since the time when as a child I entered the public schools. The teacher or school official who treated one boy differently from what he treated another was the subject of much comment at home and on the playground, and the subject, also, of biting criticism. The theory would be all right if students were all alike, but since they are not it is the height of folly and verges on imbecility for parents or teachers or college officials to treat any two young people alike in any situation where the conditions are affected by the personality of the individual. Even children can see this if it is put up to them intelligently.
There are those who argue that a member of a fraternity has more show than an independent, that he is given more consideration, that college officers discriminate in his favor. In point of fact, I feel that the opposite of this is true, barring the fact that organization is one of the first elements in attaining success, and that the fraternity man takes advantage of this favorable condition. I have sometimes felt that possibly a college man occasionally lost favor by being a part of an organization, because one has a tendency to blame him for the sins of his fellows. "Does Brown belong to a fraternity?" the chairman of a committee diliberating over a freshman's intellectual future, asked me over the telephone the other day. "I think so," I replied, "but that fact ought not to determine whether or not he is allowed to continue."
Usually I am convinced that the man in an organization is helped. We see it in business, in politics, in the church, in society—why not in college? The independent fights against odds because he fights alone. "I don't want anyone to help me out," I heard an undergraduate say not long ago. "If I get anything or anywhere I want to do it by my own efforts and upon my own merits." But no one is likely to get very far alone, and more and more we are coming to recognize the fact that it is team work that counts. Even the self-made man is not so much in vogue as he once was, because we see what a crude, freakish, incomplete product he often is. It is better to employ organization and "piece work" in turning out a successful man. The fact that a fraternity man is allied with a group of other men who are working for approximately the same thing as he is working for, who are in sympathy with him, who are willing to help him and advise him, does usually give him an advantage over other men. His condition reminds me somewhat of an experience which I had yesterday. I attended a baseball game between our home team and that of a nearby state university. The odds were pretty even, if I may be permitted to use so paradoxical an expression, and more than once our pitcher seemed in a rather tight corner. At each instance of this sort there always came from all sides of the bleachers the encouraging cry "We're all behind you, Red," and I have no doubt it was that friendly fraternal word that helped "Red" to pull himself successfully out of the holes into which he seemed to be slipping. It is the same sort of help that the fraternity man has behind him that many men count an unfair advantage.
There are few communities in which the intellectual differences, great as they sometimes seem to be, are so slight as they are in a college community, and especially as they are in a college community in the Middle West. The young men who enter such an institution are, for the most part, from middle class homes. Their fathers and mothers have usually attained some business or community distinction in the neighborhood in which they live, but they very seldom have as broad an education as they hope to secure for their children. These young people themselves have been quite similarly educated. The preparation which one receives in a good country high school is not materially different from that which he would get in a good city high school; at least it can be shown that the young fellows who attain intellectual distinction after coming to college are quite as likely to have had their preparation in a small high school as in a larger one. There is little difference, therefore, intellectually, between these boys who come to college, some of whom may join a fraternity, and a larger number of whom will not.
Socially, also, the difference is not so great as one might suppose. It is true there are some pretty wide extremes and some rather striking contrasts, but as I have seen through many years the procession of fathers and mothers that come each autumn with the opening of college and each spring at commencement time, I am convinced that the great mass of our students, in the Middle West at least, come from a quite similar social environment. I have been given a jolt often at commencement week when meeting for the first time the parents of some well-known fraternity hero, as I have been delighted when I have been introduced to the friends of some modest independent. The Greek, as I have known him, has very little on the independent so far as social prestige is concerned.
Nor is the distinction between these two classes of students in any large degree based upon the relative amounts of money which they or their parents have. It is true that ordinarily it requires somewhat more money to live in a fraternity house than to live outside, but the mere fact that a man has money seldom decides whether or not he will become a fraternity man when he enters college. As I write these sentences the names of a score of wealthy boys who were in college this year come to my mind, not one of whom belonged to a fraternity. Some of them did not care to do so, and some of them could not have got in had they wished ever so much to do so; and on the other hand there are in my mind the names of a large number of fellows with scarcely moderate means who were rushed off their feet by a half dozen organizations eager to pledge them. There is little or no difference between them so far as financial standing is concerned. I have in mind two boys, friends from childhood, who came to college two years ago. The parents of one were wealthy, and the parents of the other could with the greatest sacrifice send him to college. They joined the same fraternity, have enjoyed the same privileges, and have attained about the same distinction and popularity.
I realize that there are many people who do not agree with me in these statements which I have been making. On the one hand there are those who look upon fraternity men as made of somewhat more refined and better glazed clay than are other men. These men, if pushed, would be willing to grant that the fraternity man, perhaps, is no grind, that he is more likely to make the loafer's club than Phi Beta Kappa, but when it comes to social prominence and finesse, they are sure that he has it on every other fellow in college. I have heard the occasional fraternity man talks as if he were making a great concession when he associated with an independent, but fortunately such men are not numerous. On the other hand there are independents who look upon fraternity men with complete disfavor. They consider them snobs, loafers, and men of generally loose principles. One of our honorary societies prided itself for years that when it came to the election of members no fraternity man ever got by. It was not until a fraternity man came along who was intellectually so undeniably superior to the other available men that the old custom was abandoned. Since that time candidates are considered upon their merits, whether they are fraternity men or not.
When such an attitude of mind exists as I have just mentioned, all sorts of difficulties are likely to arise. Social differences and political factions develop, and independent fraternities whose sole purpose is to fight fraternities not unlike themselves are organized and begin a campaign of opposition which results in the grossest and most exaggerated statements. The few college clubs which I have known, as well as those which I have heard of, that were organized with the determination to fight fraternities, or not to become fraternities, were the most radical of fraternities as soon as they were organized. The fact that they were known by English names rather than by Greek-letters made not the slightest difference. The procedure resembles very much the ordinary political campaign, where opposing candidates go the limit in making unsupported accusations against each other.
The newspapers do not help the situation; they exploit eagerly every trivial circumstance or difference which arises between Greeks and independents. They enjoy a fight. The public believes what it reads, and forms its opinions upon false data. With regard to these things as with regard to many similar ones, it is not difficult to prove almost anything if one does not demand too many illustrations. The most worthless loafer I know in college this year is a fellow who is working his way and dependent upon his own resources for every cent he spends. Neither this one instance, nor a half dozen others would prove, however, that the man who works his way through college is a loafer. The most dissipated, extravagant spendthrift with us last semester was an independent, but no one thinks of blaming his conduct upon the fact that he did not join something; no more should we usually blame another man's downfall upon the fact that he did.
It will not be very difficult to conclude that from my viewpoint there seems little that is pertinent to say with reference to the relationships which exist or would exist between fraternity men and those who are not affiliated with such an organization. They are all made of the same sort of dust; socially, intellectually, financially, and morally there are no appreciable differences between them. Their interests are identical; their environment is in no large degree dissimilar; there is no difference excepting that one is a member of an organization and the other not, the only way we can make a real difference is by imagining one and talking about it. It is this talking about it that does the most of the damage and stirs up the useless trouble. A good deal of it comes from silly jealousy.
Many of us found ourselves in a similar situation with reference to the late terrible European war. My father and mother were of English birth as were my older brothers and sisters. All my life my sympathies have been drawn more or less unconsciously, no doubt, toward England. America in my mind was always first, but England was second. I can scarcely see how it could be otherwise. During the last thirty years I have formed many close friends among Germans and men and women of German ancestry. I can very well see that their feelirtg toward the country from which their fathers came is not unlike that which I feel toward England. I could not expect it to be otherwise. We have gotten on together, and our friendship has not weakened because we have been sensible enough not to exaggerate our differences, not to extol one set of friends to the exclusion of another. Each side, no doubt, has its justification, but on the whole it is better to let it go at that and not waste useful time in discussing it. We are not different in our hearts because our ancestors came from different parts of Europe. In a remotely similar way I feel toward fraternity men and those men who do not belong to fraternities. It is only when they insist on recognizing that there are differences and disagreements, and are determined to discuss them and to exaggerate them that these differences and disagreements actually exist. The men themselves are not different in ideals or in purposes.
"How shall I treat my old friends, after I have joined a fraternity?" I am constantly asked by young fellows who somehow get the idea that when they become members of a fraternity they at once sever all diplomatic relationships with every one outside. I presume it is the same sort of question which presents itself to many a young fellow who is about to be married, and who feels that such a ceremony entirely alienates him from all other friends whom he may have previously counted as his own. Neither marriage nor joining a fraternity necessarily changes a man, and if either act is instrumental in causing differences or disagreements to come between friends, something is wrong with the marriage or with the fraternity. The fact that one takes a new obligation does not in any sense absolve him from an old one. The answer to the question as to how a fraternity man should treat his independent friends is a simple one; he should treat them as he always has done; visit them at their houses and invite them to his own; keep up his friendly associations with them in the classroom and out of it, on the street and on the campus. To do otherwise is to prove oneself a snob, and to emphasize differences which do not exist.
If there is ill feeling and jealousy and misunderstanding on any college campus between fraternity men and those who are independent of such organizations, it is largely because men have exaggerated trifles. When we begin to draw social lines, or political lines, or intellectual lines between these two classes of men we are making a mistake; we are no more justified in doing so than we should be in insisting upon similar distinctions being made between those men who live at home and those who live in a boarding-house; between the philanthropists who belong to church and those who do not. We shall wipe out the differences which are said to exist between Greeks and independents, when we refuse to recognize the fact that there are any.