Jesus, where did the time go? Come May, I’ll be three years removed from college and an out of touch, washed-up 25-year-old who’s always two steps behind trying to keep up with what you damn kids are up to these days. Absolutely terrifying. I swear it seems like only yesterday I was a brash, outspoken, blockhead undergrad who was in constant conflict with the university, nationals, and, most notably, my fraternity’s graduate chapter. I just couldn’t grasp how a majority of these guys who once held this organization with such high regard could flip the switch and turn overwhelmingly apathetic seemingly over night.
It didn’t matter if it was a philanthropic cause, one of our annual parties, or general house improvements, getting financial or even moral support from graduate brothers was a useless endeavor. “All the grads do is drink our beer, fuck up our home, and give us no money,” was a recurring joke among actives, but it was also the sad reality of the situation. Alumni would gladly show up to relive the “glory days” on our dime, but if we would ask for donations to fix a support beam and keep the house from crumbling into a pile of ash and cold, mutilated, lifeless brothers’ bloodshed, they were nowhere to be found.
When they actually did correspond, it was always to boast about how great they were in their distortedly-viewed hay day, talk down to the current chapter for fucking up, or troll the Facebook group to pass the time in their own joyless, mundane post-fraternity lives. They were nauseating, unfriendly, and distant, but now that I sit on their side of the fence, I completely get it.
The unfortunate truth is that I could not give less of a shit about the brothers holding it down in my undergraduate chapter right now. All of my friends and anyone I had any sort of connection with are gone. The current members are just some random assholes that happen to share my letters and live in my old place of residence. I’m sure they’re great guys and all, but I just have zero desire to give them even a second of my time, let alone a single cent from my checking account. Best of luck raising $12,000 for Islander, gentlemen.
Is this the same pathetic attitude that drove me insane as a heavily involved active brother? 1,000 percent yes. Aren’t these Greek organizations we join supposedly a brotherhood for life? That’s what I sold rushees as recruitment chair. But for whatever reason, whether it be human nature, a vicious cycle of indifference perpetuated by previous alumni, or me just being a hypocritical dick, I just can’t even fake interest in what’s presently happening with my chapter.
The fact of the matter is we choose one fraternity over the others because we click with that specific group of individuals at that specific time. Sure, there are dingleberries who rush solely off prestige and an organization’s letters alone, but they’re more often than not the least popular kid in house.
No one’s joining because of some trite, repackaged core values or the outdated beliefs of some crinkly racist ballsacks that were your founding fathers. If you were a piece of shit before, you’re not suddenly going to turn it around because the motto preaches excellence and morality. You are who you surround yourself with — the people not some regurgitated slogan or text you halfheartedly memorized for formal meetings.
So you spend your time solidifying lifelong friendships, have the best four or five year run possible, and move on with your existence once you and your boys are out. It’s a harsh realization and one you could never fathom when the chapter means virtually everything to you as an undergrad, but when those familiar faces are gone and things like your career start to take precedent, it’s the natural order of post-fraternity life..