# The Fraternity and the Undergraduate (collection)/After the Pledging

The young fellow who has just been through a strenuous rushing season and who has accepted the pledge button of a fraternity which satisfies him and measures up to the ideals which he has cherished with reference to such an organization, like a young lover who has just become engaged to the girl of his choice, usually feels that the worst is over and that the future will see only smooth sailing, congenial associations without disagreement and without friction. The very opposite of this is too often true, for the freshman is quite likely to find the period intervening between his pledging and his initiation a time of trial and discouragement, a time of uncertainty and of difficult adjustment to new conditions.
During the rushing season he has seen only the most attractive features of fraternity life; every member of the chapter has presented his best side, his most engaging manners, his strongest personal assets. Before his pledging he has been made to see his prospective brothers as beings far above and beyond ordinary men; they are to him more like young gods than commonplace mortals. "I have never met a bunch of fellows who seemed to me so altogether admirable and perfect," a young ​pledge remarked not long ago. "There is not one of them that I should have different if I could." But he waked up very shortly, as every neophyte must if he is mentally alert, to the fact that he was not associating with gods but with men—men full of impulses good and bad, possessed of prejudices and harrassed by selfish passions and desires as other mortals are. It was with these men with whom he had to live and it was to their idiosyncrasies and varied personalities that he had to adjust himself. The task is not an easy one, and it is not strange that the new man, suddenly and rudely disillusioned, should often fall into a morass of uncertainty and discouragement.
"Do all pledges have their faith tried and grow discouraged?" a despondent freshman asked me only a short time ago. "Things are made to seem so rosy at first, and then we wake up to find that we are part of an organization made up of fellows just like ordinary men."
"I presume it is a common experience," I answered, "and it is just as well so, for the work of the world is done by ordinary men associating with men equally ordinary. The sooner we learn to adjust ourselves to the peculiarities 'of all sorts and conditions of men' the better."
One could not go far in a discussion like this without saying something concerning the practice ​of lifting pledges—a practice which is still not uncommon and which is not confined to any college or to any educational community. It is a possible temptation at the outset for a man to feel that having made a choice he might possibly have made a better one if he had waited, or that even now, if he had the courage to do so, he might give up one and take another. Such a feeling though common and human, perhaps, is weak. It shows indecision; it breeds unhappiness and discontent.
In the early history of the fraternity the lifting of pledges was not an uncommon nor an unpopular practice. Chapters went even further than that and lifted whole groups of men. It was not unheard of for a man to join one fraternity without going through the ceremony of being released from another. It was a sort of fraternity mormonism or bigamy which was extant at the time. It was a practice which was not conducive to general good feeling among Greeks, and one which has come to be looked upon with pretty general disfavor. He is a pretty brave man if not a nervy one who can bring himself today to defend the practice even in the most seemingly justifiable cases.
The cause of lifting may be laid in the main, perhaps, to the rapidity with which rushing is done in many institutions and to the fear of the rushee ​that if he refuses the first bid that comes to him he may not get another. He seizes the bird at hand, doubtful of being able to grasp the more attractive ones in the bush. If the rushee were not pushed so hard, if he were given more time to deliberate, if the whole matter of fraternity membership were not sprung upon him suddenly and forcibly, he would be more likely to come to a settled and final judgment than he now is. At present he is made to decide before he knows what he actually wants, and he does not realize that if he gets what he does not want it would be better not to have anything at all.
Indecision on the part of fraternity men themselves is another prime cause of lifting. A fraternity may have been indifferently rushing a man or perhaps may only have been considering the possibility of doing so. When they see that while they have been dallying another organization has pledged him, their interest and his worth are immediately exaggerated beyond all reason, and they soemtimes feel that they must under such a circumstance have him at any cost. I have in mind now a man who was being lukewarmly considered by three organizations. No one of them was particularly enthusiastic or interested in him. One of the three without much elation brought itself to the point of bidding him; immediately the ​other two developed a frenzy of interest and the man was ultimately persuaded to break his first, pledge and assume a second. No self-respecting fraternity will tamper with a man who is already pledged. The excuses for doing so which are sometimes offered by men who otherwise seem reasonable and sane are on the whole flimsy. The strongest of these is, perhaps, based upon the argument of "national standing," and practically every fraternity which I have known has been able by one specious argument or another to establish the fact that its national standing was quite superior to the standing of every other similar organization with which it was associated. I was speaking just the other day to a fraternity man with reference to a freshman who had just been pledged to an organization whose standing so far as I can judge is as good as that of the one I belong to or the one he belongs to.
"What a darned shame," he exclaimed, "I'm sorry he couldn't have got into a good fraternity," which in his mind meant his own. This idea in a man's mind that his own fraternity is superior to any other and that his own fraternity is superior to any other and that the fellow who does not join it makes a grave mistake,—is about the only reason which justifies him in his own mind in lifting a pledge to another fraternity. His assumption is ​usually a false one, and even if it were not, it would in no sense excuse his persuading a student to break his pledge.
"We couldn't see a good man join a fraternity like that," a fraternity officer suggested in an attempt to justify his action in lifting a pledge.
"Why?" I asked.
"They have no standing," was his reply.
But the facts were they were cleaner fellows, better students, more active in the college community, and better respected than the organization which was guilty of the lifting.
There is the reason alleged, also, that the man concerned will be happier with one group than with another, and that any means are justifiable which will rescue him from an environment that in the end will mean to him misery and maladjustment. I am reminded in this instance of a friend of mine who made an usually happy marriage and who has lived a life of rare contentment.
"I was a lucky man in getting Mary," he admitted to me, "but I can't quite see how one is going to be sure about the outcome of such a union until he tries it." And so I say about the fraternity; the organization that is willing to descend to a disreputable act in order to save a man from unhappiness has no convincing evidence that the man so rescued would have been unhappy, and, besides, ​the thing is up to the man anyway, and the average man would be happy and find it possible to adjust himself to the living conditions in any one of a score of organizations. It is about as foolish for a man to think that his fraternity is the only one in the world suited to a particular freshman as it is to believe that he is the only man in the world who could make a definite girl happy.
There is the point of view of the fraternity, also, that because of their relationships and because of the localities from which they come certain men are in a way the property of one fraternity more than of another if that fraternity chooses to claim its rights. "We have always taken the men from Rockford," or "His cousin was a member of our fraternity at Wisconsin," are sometimes considered quite good and sufficient reasons for any sort of procedure in the acquiring of pledges.
The character of the men who will allow themselves to be lifted in my experience is seldom such as to make them of any real worth to an organization. As I look back over my relationship with such men I can think of but one man who was worth the price of admission to the organization which lifted him. They have been, with this exception, selfish or vacillating, or easily led,—men without judgment who did not know their own minds, who had no power of leadership. They were not ​worth quarreling over; they did not warrant the tarnishing of fraternity honor in order that they might be acquired.
And there is no doubt in the minds of serious thinking men today that the fraternity which lifts men or allows them to be lifted for any cause is lowering its dignity, is in doing this less entitled to respect that it would otherwise be, and cannot in the eyes of sensible people justify its action. Lifting clinchs one of the strongest arguments against fraternities and strikes a knockout blow at fraternity progress. The fraternity that has any standing does not need to do it, and the fraternity that has none should not be allowed to do it. The pledge who allows himself to be lifted has by that act shown a weakness of character which should bar him from initiation.
Fraternities will continue to make mistakes in pledging men, but in most cases these mistakes are possible of correction. Such men can be released in a dignified and orderly way. New men in college will, also, under even more favorable conditions than at most institutions exist at the present time, continue to pledge themselves to the wrong fraternity. There is a way open to any such to correct the error. No fraternity will hold a man if he is dissatisfied. If the fraternity to which you have pledged yourself is not what you thought it ​would be, if the men have low ideals or are uncongenial; if the conditions of living are not such as to commend themselves to you, or if for any reason you feel that you have made a mistake, the only wise thing to do is to say so frankly and to ask for release. The member of another fraternity, however, who comes to you and either by open statement or by more subtle suggestion attempts to bring about dissatisfaction in your mind as to your choice or tries to persuade you that you should join his fraternity because it is a superior organization, is doing a dishonorable thing no matter who he is or what fraternity he represents. Before you are pledged any one may enter the contest for your favor; after you have put on a pledge button of any social fraternity, whether it be national or local, anyone who approaches you in an attempt to win you away from the organization of your choice is doing wrong, is not playing the game fairly, and he should not be listened to. If you break your pledge, it should be your own act.
If social conventions require that a widower wait a decent length of time after the death of his former wife before he takes another, so fraternal conventions are best honored when a man who has broken his pledge with one organization shows his good sense by not rushing headlong into another. Having made a mistake once, he might better give ​himself time and opportunity for consideration before risking a second error. A good many interfraternity organizations have recently passed regulations which prohibit a man released from one organization from being pledged by another within six months, and some go so far as to require a year to intervene. Neither the pledge nor the fraternity can suffer by the enactment of such legislation. A fraternity which refuses to abide by the rule is scarcely worthy of respect, and the pledge who is not willing to pay a fair price for his mistakes, is not likely to profit by experience.
Granted, however, that the pledge is satisfied with his choice that he has neither opportunity nor desire to go to another organization, difficulties will arise, disappointment will come, and adjustments will need to be made. It is no easy matter to get on amicably with twenty-five or thirty men, most of whom, very likely, one has never known before. Especially is this true of the boy who, before coming to college has had his own room and exclusive use of his own possessions. Fraternity men are too likely to consider the property of any brother common property, and the freshman who finds his bureau drawers rifled and his favorite studs in another man's shirt has at once something to learn when he moves into a fraternity house.
A young fellow who had been invited to join a ​fraternity came to see me only a few weeks ago to ask my advice. "I think it would help you, Dave," I said. "You have always had your own way, you have always followed your own desires, and though that way has been in the main a good one, and those desires excellent, you have yet to learn the lesson of adjustment to the wishes and the comfort of others. It would do you good to join a fraternity."
"That's just it," he responded, "I'm afraid I don't want to be done good." His better sense controlled him, however, and he is learning the lesson which every young fraternity man must learn if he is to get the best out of the organization, and that is to give up, to submit, to adjust himself to new conditions.
After the pledging a good deal of the glamour of the fraternity life disappears, and the new man finds that he is expected to do a considerable amount of work that is not wholly pleasant or clean or easy. If he has not previously been used to such tasks they may seem galling and they may even strike him as being imposed more for his discipline than because of any real necessity for their accomplishment. If he is a wise young man he will take these duties cheerfully, he will, at least externally, perform them willingly, and he will ​receive such adverse criticism as may be imposed without resentment.
"How does it happen," I once asked a cheerful freshman at a fraternity house, "that you who are so apparently willing to work are seldom asked to do anything, while Rogers, who growls when he is disturbed, is constantly being sent on errands?"
"That's the secret of the whole thing," the freshman exclaimed. "I got on to the fact right at the outset that the more I kicked, the less I accomplished. So I decided never to complain, always to volunteer, and regularly to do my tasks cheerfully. The result is that I'm seldom disturbed because I seem so willing." It was the reward of seeming virtue which he was receiving.
The fraternity house is often a crowded house. When the freshman wakes up as he ultimately must, to the fact that the college life is a life of study, he very soon after this realizes too that study in a fraternity house is something that must be accomplished with others around him and often others who, at the time when he himself must work, are not themselves so inclined. He must learn a sort of independence. While not forgetting others in allowing himself to get out of sympathy with them, he must yet manage his own affairs, look after his own interests, and see that, amidst all the confusion and bustle of the house, his own work is ​done. This business of utilizing his time to the best advantage, I shall leave to another paper.
The man with the right attitude, after his pledging, will do what he can to get into the spirit of the house. He may have no special work assigned to him, and yet if he keeps his eyes open he will see without being told things which he can do, and ways in which he can help to keep things going right; to keep his room and the rest of the house in order, to promote good feeling, and to bring about harmony among the different members of the household. It is a far cry from pledge to president of the chapter, but I am sure that many a freshman has in the first few weeks of his connection with his fraternity settled his claim to that remote and coveted office by the way in which he has got on to the work and into the spirit of the house. He has found happiness by helping those who were in trouble; he has made friends by being friendly, and almost at the outset he has become a standby, a prop upon which even an older man has learned to lean.
I remember a young freshman who was a member of my own chapter only a few years ago. We had been having a gathering of the older alumni, the new men had all been introduced and had been looked over and discussed.
​"Which one," I asked, "will be at the head of the chapter when he is a senior?"
"Brockton," they all said at once, "because he gets into things, he takes hold, he has the spirit of the house already," and they were right, and Brockton today is making one of the best of officers we have ever had.
I remember as a graduate student in an eastern university of being admitted to a special class in English Composition.
"No one who is admitted to this class," the old instructor informed us at the first meeting, "need ever expect to have anything complimentary said of his literary composition. The fact that one is admitted at all is sufficient proof that he has shown more than average ability as a writer. Granted that, it will be my business in the future to discover to him his faults and weaknesses."
I have no doubt that the fraternity pledge often feels as discouraged as I did when I got back my first long theme mutilated and scarred, covered with red ink and scrawled over with vituperative criticisms. Nothing that I did seemed right or good. The new man in the house gets little praise; he is bawled out if he violates or evades rules; he is seldom commended if he does well. "Don't praise them," is the suggestion, "or you'll make them conceited." The freshman does not realize ​that the head of the house most often employs a gruff and surly manner to mask his inexperience. He is afraid that if he is gentle and soft voiced and kind that the pledges and the underclassmen will not recognize the fact that he is in control. He often feels more kindly than he seems, and this fact if the pledge will do his duty, if he will keep up his part of the work, he will soon come to realize. The time will go rapidly, the arduous duties will soon be done, and the pledge before he knows it will be a real brother.