Black Greek-Letter Organizations 2.0: New Directions in the Study of African American Fraternities and Sororities

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Black Greek-Letter Organizations 2.0

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Black Greek-Letter Organizations

2.0

New Directions in the Study of African American Fraternities and Sororities

Edited by Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks

University Press of Mississippi / Jackson

www.upress.state.ms.us The University Press of Mississippi is a member of the Association of American University Presses. Copyright © 2011 by University Press of Mississippi All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America First printing 2011 ∞ Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Black greek-letter organizations 2.0 : new directions in the study of African American fraternities and sororities / edited by Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-60473-921-3 (cloth : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-1-60473-922-0 (ebook) 1. Greek letter societies—United States. 2. African American college students— Societies, etc. I. Hughey, Matthew W. (Matthew Windust) II. Parks, Gregory, 1974– LJ34.B57 2011 378.1’98508996073—dc22 British Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data available

2010030301

To the memory of Dr. Gloria Harper Dickinson—a towering scholar and member of the black “Greek” community


Contents

Acknowledgments [ xi ]

Foreword [ xiii ] Fraternalism and Leadership by Professor Theda Skocpol

I. Introduction

1. Public Realism [ 3 ]

Propounding a Critical and Empirical Black “Greek” Scholarship

Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks

Commentary by Lynn Perry Wooten [ 23 ]

II. BGLOs and the Intersection of Leadership, Religion, and Civil Rights

2. Passive Activism [ 27 ]

African American Fraternities and Sororities and the Push for Civil Rights

Marybeth Gasman

Commentary by Rochelle Parks-Yancy [ 47 ]

3. Alpha Kappa Alpha, Community, and Professionalism [ 49 ]

Constructing the Significance of BGLO Involvement in the Life of Loraine Richardson Green

Yolanda Y. Johnson

Commentary by Laura Morgan Roberts [ 67 ]

4. Faith and Fraternalism [ 69 ]

A Doctrinal and Empirical Analysis

Kenneth I. Clarke Sr. and Tamara L. Brown

Commentary by Corey D. B. Walker [ 91 ]

Contents

viii

III. The Gender Politics of Black Fraternalism

5. Becoming Men in Burning Sands [ 95 ]

Student Identity, Masculinity, and Image Construction in Black Greek-Letter Collegiate Fraternities

T. Elon Dancy II

Commentary by Marc Lamont Hill [ 112 ]

6. Black Greek-Letter Fraternities and Masculinities [ 114 ]

Reynaldo Anderson, Paul M. Buckley, and Natalie T. J. Tindall

Commentary by Caryn E. Neumann [ 136 ]

IV. Racial Identity and Racism

7. Transforming Racism [ 139 ]

Asian Pacific American Women in African American Sororities

Edith Wen-Chu Chen

Commentary by Sherry L. Martin [ 160 ]

8. The Realities and Consequences of Unconscious Antiblack Bias among BGLO Members [ 162 ]

Shanette C. Porter and Gregory S. Parks

Commentary by Kira Hudson Banks [ 176 ]

V. Representin’: Images of BGLOs in Popular Culture

9. Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., as Filmmaker [ 181 ]

The Making and Demise of Countdown at Kusini

Robin Means Coleman

Commentary by Derek Fordjour [ 190 ]

10. “You Make the Letters. The Letters Don’t Make You” [ 191 ]

The Construction of Memory and Identity in Stomp the Yard

Matthew W. Hughey

Commentary by Elizabeth C. Fine [ 210 ]

11. Challenging Controlling Images [ 212 ]

Appearance Enforcement within Black Sororities

Marcia D. Hernandez

Commentary by Cynthia Lynne Shelton [ 230 ]

Contents

ix

VI. Keeping Things In/On Line? Hazing and Pledging 12. Factors That Contribute to Hazing Practices by Collegiate Black Greek-Letter Fraternities during Membership Intake Activities [ 235 ] Dwayne J. Scott

Commentary by Shuana K. Tucker [ 251 ]

13. Old School Values and New School Methods

Preserving the Integrity of the Pledge Process and Defending against Hazing Liability [ 253 ]

Dara Aquila Govan

Commentary by Michael V. W. Gordon [ 273 ]

VII. Ebony in the Ivory Tower: BGLOs in Higher Education 14. Black Greek-Letter Organizations at Predominantly White Institutions and Historically Black Colleges and Universities [ 277 ] Terrell L. Strayhorn and Fred C. M c Call

Commentary by Martia J. N. H. Brawner [ 293 ]

15. College Student Satisfaction and Greek Organization Membership [ 294 ]

Stephanie M. M c Clure

Commentary by Roland Mitchell [ 309 ]

Appendix

Advisory Board Members [ 311 ] Editorial Board Members [ 313 ] Chapter Authors [ 321 ] Chapter Commentators [ 326 ] About the Editors [ 329 ]

Index [ 331 ]


Acknowledgments

We thank the advisory board—those individuals who, at the outset, provided us with insights into what topics we might best address in this book and the approach we might take. We also thank the editorial board who gave of their time to serve as blind reviewers of the chapters featured herein. They helped to sharpen the research, methodology, and writing in the respective chapters. Thanks to the commentators who helped put each chapter into perspective. Their insights help frame the work in this book and cast it in a larger light. To the authors, we extend our gratitude for their willingness to participate in this project as well as their efforts in refining their work for inclusion. They have added to a growing corpus of scholarly literature that serves to chart the future course of black Greek-letter organizations. To Professor Theda Skocpol, we are grateful for your contribution to this text and for your prior work that illuminates the often-marginalized tradition of black fraternalism. To Dr. Imo Imeh, our cover artist, you are a fresh new talent, and we greatly appreciate you capturing the essence of the book’s scholarship in artistic form. To Leila Salisbury of the University Press of Mississippi, and her staff, thank you for taking on this project and helping to make it a remarkable contribution to the study of BGLOs. Lastly and probably most importantly, we thank the readers—most of whom are likely BGLO members—for your support. It is neither our intent that our work simply sit on shelves or coffee tables nor that it rest in the minds of readers. Rather, we hope that the information you gain from this book will translate into the betterment of BGLOs as we together shape the future.

xi


Foreword Fraternalism and Leadership

By now, most Americans of all races know about Thurgood Marshall, the great civil rights lawyer who remade American law, first as an advocate for equal rights and later as a justice of the Supreme Court. If asked about the associations of which Marshall was a member, many would bring to mind the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), spearhead of our nation’s most fruitful civil rights litigation across the twentieth century. This was the organization from which Marshall championed landmark cases. But few, at least outside the African American community, would be able to name Marshall’s other key affiliations—particularly not his memberships in self-selecting social brotherhoods. Yet Marshall, like many African Americans—indeed like many Americans of all backgrounds—was a proud participant in major, community-based fraternal federations with members from many walks of life in the community. He was admitted to the brotherhood of the Prince Hall Masons, a black fraternal group dating back to the Revolutionary era; and he also joined the Improved Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks of the World, a more modern order founded in 1898. Nor were these the only selective secret brotherhoods in his life story. As a sophomore during the 1920s at the historically black Lincoln University in Oxford, Pennsylvania, Thurgood, like his older brother Aubrey before him, was inducted into a chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha, a pioneering black college fraternity.1 Not yet very studious, Marshall was a creative prankster at Lincoln, avidly focused on devising ever more devilish forms of hazing for new recruits to Alpha Phi Alpha.2 His sense of fun and camaraderie persisted into the next phase of education at Howard Law School, where Marshall had to study much harder under the stern tutelage of Dean Charles Hamilton Houston. Half of Marshall’s Howard classmates were also Alphas—given to spirited competition for class offices against the others pledged to Omega Psi Phi and other black Greek-letter fraternities.3 xiii

xiv

Foreword

Let’s probe a bit further into the two kinds of brotherhoods that figured in Marshall’s life, as into the lives of many other African Americans in the nineteenth and early to mid-twentieth centuries. At first glance, we might suppose that the ties to the black Elks and the Prince Hall Masons were clearly socially useful, while the Alpha Phi Alpha affiliation was at best a frivolous distraction as Marshall matured into his serious vocation. From its founding by a creative though beleaguered set of African American students at Cornell University in 1906, Alpha Phi Alpha clearly aspired to imitate the status-conferring and solidarity functions of the many Greek-letter organizations that had proliferated among white college-goers for many decades. In those years, college was an opportunity restricted to elites, and Greek-letter groups enhanced and expressed special standing even within the already-lofty ranks of college-goers. Blacks were excluded by white Greek organizations, and finally founded their own groups, starting at Cornell and Indiana University. These early black Greek groups espoused civic as well as social aims, but largely aimed for a sense of special belonging otherwise unavailable to a shunned minority on campus.4 In this volume, the chapter on “Passive Activism: African American Fraternities and Sororities and the Push for Civil Rights” by Marybeth Gasman documents many important ways in which black Greek-letter organizations (BGLOs), including Alpha Phi Alpha, eventually played direct or indirect supporting roles in the mid-twentieth-century U.S. civil rights movement. But there were no hints of such efforts at Lincoln or Howard when Marshall was a student in the late 1920s and early 1930s. His experience as an Alpha seemed focused on fun and solidarity, with little apparent larger social or political purpose. Indeed, during his fraternity fun years at Lincoln, Marshall joined a majority of black students in opposing a motion to integrate the faculty by adding African American professors to the white instructional ranks.5 By contrast, in later years Thurgood Marshall, like other giants of the twentieth-century civil rights movement, regularly leveraged the values, shared identities, and organizational clout of major African American cross-class, community-based fraternal federations of which they were a part.6 The Prince Hall Masons and the Improved Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks of the World were especially active in civic causes of national importance, particularly the civil rights struggles. Repeatedly, Prince Hall and Elks leaders and members responded to calls from Thurgood Marshall and other leaders in the NAACP to raise funds and channel volunteers in support of civil rights litigation, voter registration drives, and other prongs of the multifront wars against racial exclusion and segregation that finally reached fruition and remade America in the post–World War II era. Serious public purposes were part of the ongoing regular activity of these massive fraternal orders, and their group identities helped

Foreword

xv

to unite and sustain broad swathes of the African American community for political as well as social causes. The contrast between college pranks and the sustained civic efforts I have just highlighted are part of the reason why it has been easier for the contemporary scholarly community to revisit the worth of cross-class fraternal orders than it has been to see the importance and value of Greek-letter organizations. When my coauthors and I set out to write What a Mighty Power We Can Be: African American Fraternal Groups and the Struggle for Racial Equality, we certainly had to push through ignorance and disdain for U.S. fraternalism among post-1960s historians and social scientists. After all, these groups are secretive in era of supposed openness, and they are segregated by gender, race, and ethnicity in an era of idealized (if not always practiced) integration. But once we set forth our case with solid evidence, we got a fairly good response to the argument that African American cross-class fraternal groups, above all, had played a useful and socially worthwhile role in preserving black unity and challenging racial exclusion. These groups, after all, did bring people together across many occupations and class strata. They were not merely exclusionary—indeed were much less so than white fraternal groups, in that men and women were often fraternalists together in the African American groups, and black groups accepted white and persons of other races, even when white fraternal groups would not.7 But college fraternities and sororities are another matter. They seem elitist, in that only a self-selected minority of an already narrow stratum, college students, can join at all. And many of their rituals and customs are very off-putting to sixties-generation academics and their successors. Most whites who have ended up in the university professorate shunned (or perhaps were shunned by) sororities and fraternities when they went to college. They resent and do not see any value in such groups. And it is not even so easy to convince them that sororities and fraternities may have been more valuable for black college students than for whites—in part because many leading African American historians and intellectuals have been very critical of the social rituals, hazing, and pecking orders of black college fraternities and sororities. As chapters in this book document, there were socially worrisome features: status rankings by skin color, bizarre exclusionary rituals, and much attention to dress codes or behavioral style. But this volume also explains the constructive value of memberships in college Greek-letter organizations for successive generations of African Americans seeking higher education and preparing for the leadership careers that education could help them to enter. We learn in many chapters about the importance of sororities and fraternities in creating a sense of self-regulated and distinctive shared black identity. This was crucial in white-majority colleges, creating one of the few spaces where young black students could feel safe, take charge

xvi

Foreword

of their shared life, and exercise organizational leadership. But fraternities and sororities were also important in historically black institutions like Lincoln and Howard, because they defined self-organized teams within those places. It may not be politically correct to recognize this, but young people launching themselves into the world need to feel they are together and are special. They may gain that sense in an academic club or on a football team, but more often it is in a social setting. If they can come together and feel special, even compared to other students on the same campus, they gain confidence and resilience, and are better prepared to assert themselves with confidence in post-college life. For minorities facing special disadvantages and challenges, this kind of social solidarity may be even more important. So the dress codes and hazing and pecking orders that seem socially irrelevant in college can give individuals practice at team leadership and self-confidence for other, more important tasks in adult careers. College fraternalists in Greek organizations may do silly or worthwhile things, or a bit of both, to form bonds they can count on later in life. In college fraternal and sororal activities, moreover, they learn to think of themselves as distinctively special, because they have been “chosen” and have survived tough initiations. With challenges met—not just in college classes, but in social negotiations and tough fraternal hazing!—they become ready to take on the world. I am speculating, but I suspect that his Greek membership helped forge such strength and confidence in the youthful Thurgood Marshall, qualities that he could later use to society’s great benefit in his work for the NAACP during America’s midcentury racial revolution. He needed greater insights and broader experiences than black Greek life gave him, to be sure, but the later experiences built on the strengths his Alpha membership helped to forge. The social confidence he and other black fraternalists gained in a segregated world mattered at a fundamental psycho-social level, apart from any directly “useful” service that the early black Greek organizations did on college campuses. In its many rich chapters and commentaries, this book contributes to a growing appreciative and critical body of scholarship on black Greek-letter organizations. As Gunnar Myrdal observed in the 1940s, when it comes to building and joining voluntary associations, African Americans are “exaggerated” Americans: they create, lead, and cooperate in such groups not merely as much as other Americans, but even more so.8 In the worlds of fraternalism, both cross-class community-based fraternal federations and college-based Greekletter organizations, African Americans have borne out Myrdal’s observation. Black memberships and collective institution-building in these endeavors have made a huge difference—for the ability of African Americans to achieve a sense of togetherness and special strength during decades of oppression and exclusion, and for their capacity to teach the nation as a whole how to unite for shared purposes. We need to know still more about the constructive as well as

Foreword

xvii

problematic sides of African American social-capital, including black Greekletter organizations. This volume takes welcome steps forward, and it should inspire even more investigation and reflection in the halls of academe as well as in the ranks of the many generations of members and alumni/ae of fraternal and sororal groups in colleges and universities. These men and women have a deep tradition worth understanding and building upon as the United States moves forward in this new millennium. I am grateful to Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks for asking me to participate in this dialogue. Theda Skocpol Victor S. Thomas Professor of Government and Sociology, Harvard University April 2010

Notes 1. Charles Harris Wesley, The History of Alpha Phi Alpha: A Development in College Life (Baltimore: Foundation Publishers, 1996). 2. Juan Williams, Thurgood Marshall: American Revolutionary (New York: Three Rivers Press, 1998), 46–47. 3. Ibid., 56–57. 4. See Craig L. Torbenson, “The Origin and Evolution of College Fraternities and Sororities,” and Michael H. Washington and Cheryl L. Nunez, “Education, Racial Uplift, and the Rise of the Greek-Letter Tradition: The African-American Quest for Status in the Early Twentieth Century,” both in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005). 5. Williams, Thurgood Marshall, 48–49. 6. Theda Skocpol, Ariane Liazos, and Marshall Ganz, What a Mighty Power We Can Be: African American Fraternal Groups and the Struggle for Racial Equality (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2005), chapters 1 and 6. 7. Ibid., chapter 3. 8. Gunnar Myrdal, An American Dilemma, volume 2: The Negro Social Structure (1944; rpt. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1964), 952.


Part I.

Introduction


1. Public Realism Propounding a Critical and Empirical Black “Greek” Scholarship


In 2005, Tamara Brown and colleagues published a unique book. African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, became one of the first scholarly books on black Greek-letter organizations (BGLOs). To date, it is one of only three multidisciplinary works on the black fraternal tradition. The second appeared three years later in 2008. Gregory Parks’s Black GreekLetter Organizations in the 21st Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun picked up where Brown and colleagues left off. Not only did Parks tackle a wide range of new substantive issues in his book, he also called for something that heretofore had not yet been pressed—a critical scholarship of BGLOs. In direct terms, Parks argued for such scholarship and delineated what the parameters of it should look like and what direction it should take.1 Herein in the third work, we add to this dialogue—focusing on the role of critical and empirical scholarship as they reasonably relate to BGLOs. In doing so, we employ an approach similar to that of Laura Roberts and Lynn Wooten’s “positive organizing” analysis of BGLOs.2 Roberts and Wooten did not simply employ a particular methodology, they applied an entire analytic framework from the field of organizational behavior. In this vein, we examine how the fields of legal and sociological philosophy find pragmatic application toward the study of BGLOs. Currently, studies of BGLOs from without, and their own organizational practices from within, are severely limited by several dominant practices and critical assumptions. In the former, a great deal of scholarship on BGLOs fails to find relevance to pragmatic issues with which BGLOs are now faced. While it has been fashionable for some time to argue that academic disciplines are either “old-fashioned” or out-of-touch with “real-world” phenomena, we do find some credence in the argument that as BGLO scholarship matures into an academic subject field, it is hampered by parochialism endemic to the Ivory Tower. No doubt conditioned by the growing behemoth of “publish or perish” 3

4


cultural logic and the political economy of “customer service” undergraduate education, the production of BGLO-related knowledge largely fails in its applicability to the modern-day problems such as financial burdens, hazing, elitism, and BGLOs’ relevance to social justice activism—at least explicitly. Yet in the latter, we find many BGLO rank-and-file members and leadership either unwilling or unable to take the suggestions of empirical and critically driven social science. Instead, many demonstrate a Philistine-like approach to social science and legal philosophy; favoring conventional social values and dominant ideologies uncritically if not reverently. While academe may constrain some conversations, they also enable, structure, and guide sound inquiry. The growing ad hominem attacks on BGLO scholars qua BGLO scholars seem motivated by an assumption that removing academic voices, methods, and analytic frameworks will somehow simply reveal a structure of pure and unsullied knowledge ripe for the picking. As a sociologist and a legal theorist, and in sharing a combined membership that spans almost three decades in two BGLOs, we neither serve as apologists for BGLOs nor do we saddle them with blame. Rather, we seek a meeting ground in which the insights of jurisprudence and social inquiry can capture the attention of BGLOs so to assist in problem-solving key issues in ethical, self-determinative, and democratic fashion. In order to lay out our program in this chapter, we take a multipronged approach. First, we outline the development of certain elements of the field of jurisprudence that is bookended by two strands of legal philosophy, “formalism” and “realism.” In this section we show how the philosophy of formalism encouraged the adoption of a rule-based system of law that is abstracted from the actual material conditions of people and which defines the social uses and effects of law as extralegal, ancillary, and out of bounds. Contra-formalism, “realism” regards the intersection of social science and jurisprudence as a necessary step toward the creation of laws that are sensitized to people’s actual lived experiences. Second, we provide an overview of a tension that has long plagued the development of sociology, the strain between “professional” and “public” social thought. While the former provides conceptual frameworks and bodies of knowledge, it is often restricted to academic venues in which one can enter only after substantial training. As the dominant form of sociological practice, many professional sociologists do not interact directly with the public, but concern themselves with tackling abstract puzzles and philosophical quandaries. “Public” sociologists seek to transcend abstract musings of the academy and engage a wider audience. Rather than being defined by a particular method, theory, or set of political values, public sociologists attempt to make accessible the tools and findings of intellectual inquiry for the betterment of the world. We cover these two historical trajectories of law and sociology to demonstrate

Propounding Critical and Empirical Scholarship

5

that while the formal production of knowledge is a contested field, it is not one dimensional. Rather, there exist various intellectual modalities that are open to engagement with the problems of the everyday. In so doing, we segue to the third section of this chapter whereby we argue that a “public-realist” BGLO scholarship is not only possible, but is also necessary, and already underway. In order to articulate our vision, we explore the “formalist/realist” and “professional/public” tension by way of an apt example: the issue of hazing, pledging, and membership intake processes. Hence, we argue that realist and public scholarship that is both empirical and critical is neither a simple shift in disciplinary boundaries nor a discursive sleight-of-hand toward the creation of nouveau jargon, but is a method for the incorporation of knowledge into the daily operations and long-term viability of BGLOs. BGLOs must become open to the tools of scholastic inquiry if they are to remain relevant in the day and age of the cultural contradictions of race. That is, it is common to hear the folk-tale narrative that we now live in a “colorblind” or “post-racial” society, yet the material realities of race, illuminated by the methods and paradigms of legal realism and public sociology, show that housing segregation has nearly doubled since the 1980s,3 the black-white pay gap (24 cents on the dollar) has remained the same since 1975,4 and whites with felony convictions do better in their search for employment than blacks with no criminal record.5 In this still-racialized milieu, BGLOs’ ability to fight de facto segregation, to serve as vehicles for the attainment of education and equitable economic recompense, and to challenge the hegemony of the hyper-incarceration of young black men and women, is crucial. It is our hope that this chapter, and those that follow, may guide the reader to draw from multiple academic disciplines in ways that echo Cornel West’s call for “a future-oriented instrumentalism that tries to deploy thought as a weapon to enable more effective action. . . . a plebeian radicalism that fuels an antipatrician rebelliousness for the moral aim of enriching individuals and expanding democracy.”6

Jurisprudential Schools of Thought There are several axes upon which to analyze jurisprudential schools of thought. The debate between formalists on one hand, and realists on the other, concerns how law should solve problems.7 The rise of legal formalism in the nineteenth century resulted from the confluence of three factors in antebellum America. First, the law was seen as an objective, apolitical system. Second, there was a convergence of interest between powerful commercial and entrepreneurial interests on one hand and the elite of the legal profession on the other. Third, these interests wished to freeze legal doctrine and conceive of law as a fixed “system of logically deducible rules.”8

6


The influence of Harvard Law School within this deliberation cannot be underestimated. Harvard is credited with establishing the first modern American law school. From 1870 to 1895, Christopher Columbus Langdell served as its dean, and was highly influential in shaping the “structure and content” of other American law schools.9 Langdell focused on appellate court case analysis,10 which emphasized the connections between rules of law and case holdings,11 thereby reinforcing the notion that law was a self-contained system where decisions flowed from a finite number of discoverable and seminal concepts.12 In 1873, the appointment of James Barr Ames as an assistant professor at Harvard Law School helped transform this method into a sacred “faith.”13 Harvard’s size and influence had a tremendous impact on other university-affiliated law schools.14 As such, many law schools emulated Harvard’s academic approach.15 Langdell and Ames helped to create a conservative mode of thinking that suggested innovations must be reconciled with existing legal principles. 16 In this “formalist” approach, legal problem solving takes place, in total, within the realm of law. As such, formalists demarcate the realm of the law from that of other disciplines and bodies of knowledge. It is this line-drawing in epistemological sand that pushes the formalist to posit that legal rules are the sin qua non of problem solving.17 In contrast, legal “realism” sets forth three general maxims. First, it articulates that the boundaries of law should not be rigid. Rather, law is a multidisciplinary enterprise. Toward that end, other disciplines, namely the social sciences, are indispensable to legal problem solving. Second, legal realism holds skepticism toward the value of rules. From this standpoint, rules are of limited value in predicting what problem solvers will do or prescribing what they should do. Hence, rules may be abstracted from the real world in ways that do not cohere with actual experience, thereby undermining problem-solving efforts. Third, legal realism is more holistic in the analysis of context—many issues outside of formal legal contexts are germane to the outcomes of legal theorizing.18 There were several precursors to the realist movement. Oliver Wendell Holmes highlighted the real world aspect of the law when he noted that the “life of the law has not been logic; it has been experience.”19 Holmes also emphasized how extralegal factors hold tremendous bearing on the law. Holmes did not simply contend that social science was important in order to understand the law,20 rather he contended that contemporary pupils’ focus on black-letter law would give way to a legal field wherein “the man of the future is the man of statistics and the master of economics.”21 Benjamin Cardozo was the first to speak to the various modes of judicial thinking that were not wholly consistent with traditional, formalistic logic. Among them, according to Cardozo, was the sociological approach—a gap-filler,22 insofar as he believed the judge should employ


7

the law as a means to an end—for the “good of the collective body.”23 Roscoe Pound became the immediate precursor to the realists.24 Generally, Pound believed in an interdisciplinary approach to understanding the law.25 In 1905, he called for a philosophy of law founded on social and political science.26 In 1910, he pled for law students to be trained in sociology, economics, and politics in order to fit new generations of lawyers to not simply render good service but “to lead the people.”27 That same year, he urged scholars not only to study “law on the books” but also to study “law in action.”28 In the 1911 and 1912 issues of the Harvard Law Review, Pound announced and defined a vision of “Sociological Jurisprudence.”29 Not surprisingly, Pound is described as one who emphasized the “social effects of law and to relate legal thinking to the social sciences.”30 In 1916, Thomas Swan assumed the deanship at Yale Law School, and by November of that year, he proposed to Yale’s president that the law school should expand into the Yale School of Law and Jurisprudence. The proposal seemingly reflected the views of Arthur Corbin and possibly Karl Llewellyn—professor and student, respectively.31 Both of these men became the chief architects of legal realism. Their work, and the work of others at Columbia and Yale law schools during the early to mid-twentieth century, helped to define a new agenda for legal education and practice.32 Legal realism is not a monolithic school of thought. In broad strokes, three schools of thought typify legal realism: (1) the critical oppositional variant that sought to expose the contradictions in classical legal formalism; (2) the social scientific variant that employed the insights and methods of the empirical sciences; and (3) the practical political variant that designed, made, and enforced reform policies.33 The major thrust of legal realism was to undermine Langdell’s idea that the law was an objective science based on clear-cut realities and rules.34 Harkening back to Pound’s distinction between law in books and law in action, the realists sought to determine what the law actually does to people and for people.35 As a result, they saw law not simply as an end in and of itself but as a means to various ends.36 The legal realists gave birth to several other movements; first among them was the law, policy, and science movement. Harold Lasswell and Myers McDougal advanced two elements of realism—the intersections of social science and law as well as law and public policy. McDougal and Lasswell viewed realism as a useful tool to debunk the law’s “old myths and lame theory,” but the two doubted that realism offered much to take its place.37 They noted: [T]here is a limit beyond which the laborious demonstration of equivalencies in the language of the courts cannot go: eventually the critic must offer constructive guidance as to what and how courts and other decision-makers should decide the whole range of problems importantly affecting public order.38

8


Thus, they set out to develop an affirmative jurisprudence that would both incorporate law and the social sciences and embody “democratic values.”39 Together, they attempted to synthesize legal realism and empirical legal scholarship, which would be capable of formulating, promoting, and critiquing policy.40 In 1964, Harry Ball, coordinator of the University of Wisconsin’s Sociology and Law Program, took the lead in advancing what would come to be known as the law and society movement. During the American Sociological Association (ASA) annual meeting, he invited all attendees who were interested in the intersection of sociology and law to a breakfast. Approximately ninety individuals attended the breakfast.41 From that effort, sociologists and law professors developed the Law and Society Association as a forum to promote the rigorous interdisciplinary study of law.42 Generally, the law and society field is the study of law in its social context.43 More specifically, the law and society movement’s goal is to employ a social scientific study of the law.44 However, if one is to study law as a social science, one must define law as more than a mere set of rules and principles. Thus, law and society sought to define law “as a social institution, as interacting behaviors, as ritual and symbol, as a reflection of interest group politics, [and] as a form of behavior modification.”45 Out of the law and society movement, “Critical Legal Studies” (CLS) emerged in the second half of the 1970s through the 1980s.46 Many of the CLS scholars ultimately disagreed with their law and society colleagues in two respects.47 First, CLS scholars put little faith in social science, whereas the realists endorse social science and employ its methodologies. Second, the ethical relativism endorsed by most CLS scholars is different from, and more coherent than, that of the realists.48 In the end, CLS is based on three propositions. First, law is indeterminate. Second, law is more accurately understood by paying attention to the context in which it is made. Third, law is politics.49

Sociological Schools of Thought Anyone who has taken an introductory sociology course should remember the three formal schools of sociological thought: structural functionalism, symbolic interactionism, and social conflict, often credited to Emile Durkheim, Max Weber, and Karl Marx, respectively. Rather than delineate the three analytic and methodological approaches of each—a task well rehearsed in diffuse and varied circles—we aim to illuminate a different divide in the production and use of sociological knowledge: that of the tension between “professional” and “public sociology.” To begin, Western sociological thought has its genesis in the middle of the nineteenth century as a dialogue between reformist and philanthropic groups


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on the one side, and intellectuals like Auguste Comte, who wished that the study of social life would mirror the supposed “value neutrality” of disciplines like mathematics and physics, on the other. From an early concentration on the study of modernity, industrialization, urbanization, social disintegration, and cohesion, post–Civil War sociologists began to explore various social problems via the collection and analysis of labor and poverty statistics. Sociologists demonstrated the plight of abject poverty that became a movement unto itself, thereby laying the foundations of a concern for the socially marginalized in early sociology. However, as the forerunner of the present American Sociological Association, the American Sociological Society (founded in 1905) began to implement the shift from sociology’s engagement with marginalized publics to that of private foundations and the state.50 As the “Roaring Twenties” began, the Rockefeller Foundation supported the Institute for Social and Religious Research, the University of Chicago, and the University of North Carolina. Simultaneously, President Herbert Hoover relied upon the work of sociologist William Ogburn to write Recent Social Trends in the United States.51 Federal influence continued during the Second World War when Samuel Stouffer was commissioned to write the 1949 multivolume study of morale in the army.52 After the war, corporate financing of survey research increased; typified by the work of Paul Lazarsfeld and the Bureau of Applied Social Research at Columbia University. As sociologist Michael Burawoy writes, whether in the form of the brilliant and lucid erudition of Robert Merton (1949), the arcane and grand design of Talcott Parsons (1937, 1951), or the early statistical treatment of mobility and stratification, culminating in the work of Peter Blau and Otis Dudley Duncan (1967) [sociology became insular and specialized]. Reviewing the 1950s, Seymour Martin Lipset and Neil Smelser (1961: 1–8) could triumphantly declare sociology’s moral prehistory finally over and the path to science fully open. Not for the first time [Auguste] Comptean visions had gripped sociology’s professional elite.53 However, such insularity was resisted from within the discipline. In 1951 the “Society for the Study of Social Problems” (informally known as the “soul of the ASA”) was created, birthing the journal Social Problems in 1953. The development of a scientifically rigorous, yet morally directed, imperative within sociology was mutually reinforced by C. Wright Mills’s thesis of the “sociological imagination.” Moreover, W. E. B. Du Bois’s Pan-Africanism and anti-imperialism, Jane Addams’s focus on an international peace movement, and Robert Lynd’s chastisement of sociology’s narrow vision and claims of value neutrality, led to the ASA annual meetings of 1968, which were highlighted by Martin Nicholaus’s assault on “fat-cat sociology.”54

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The 1970s saw the publication of Joyce Ladner’s Death of White Sociology in 1973, which questioned many of the white normative assumptions dominant in the field,55 and in 1976, then ASA president Alfred McLung Lee’s address entitled, “Sociology for Whom?”56 (which piggybacked off of Robert Lynd’s 1939 question, “Sociology for What?”),57 asked whether sociologists were simply talking to themselves, or were committed to addressing an extra-academic audience. However, it was only recently in an address by Herbert Gans in 1988, that the term “public sociology” was first introduced.58 It was even more recently in 2004, that ASA president Michael Burawoy’s speech “For Public Sociology” advanced eleven theses (modeled after Karl Marx’s “Eleven Theses on Feuerbach”) that inspired a great deal of attention and tenacious debate.59 These debates have not been kind, and one’s support of “public sociology” can yield animosity or praise. For instance, the sociologist Sharon Hays stated, “If we aren’t doing public sociology, we’re just talking to each other. To claim to study society and to say that you needn’t bother to make your work relevant or accessible to social members—well, that seems to me just plain insane.”60 However, others take a different tack such as David Brady’s “Why Public Sociology May Fail,” Francois Nielsen’s “The Vacant ‘We’: Remarks on Public Sociology,” and Charles R. Tittle’s “The Arrogance of Public Sociology.”61 There have been symposia on public sociology in journals like Social Problems (February 2004), Social Forces (June 2004), and Critical Sociology (Summer 2005), departmental foci on public sociology like that of Berkeley and Minnesota, and the publication of The Public Sociologies Reader edited by Judith Blau and Keri Iyall Smith, Public Sociology: The Contemporary Debate edited by Larry Nichols, and Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-first Century edited by Dan Clawson and colleagues.62 These varied actions show that sociologists are wrestling with the issue of sociological knowledge in the public sphere. Taking these debates as a starting point, we believe that there are significant limits to engaging in only a professional scholastic project about BGLOs that speaks only in elitist circles or with methods that are impenetrable to those without rigorous scholastic training. Furthermore, such limitations betray a significant aspect of the purpose of BGLOs: to promote justice, equality, and education. Our interpretations of these debates seem at odds with the direction of much of academe. While many sociologists reiterate jargon that emphasizes an ever-widening chasm of inequality and entrenched domination, we are ironically overwhelmed by the fact that very few show how their scholarship can be put to work for the subjects they study. In this vein, following the sociologist Dorothy Smith, we advocate sociology “for” people rather than “of ” people.63 Yet, some seem threatened by our proposal. Let us be clear. Embracing “public sociology” does not mean abandoning standards, discarding practices of merit, or exploiting BGLOs for personal gain. It might be easy to use a BGLO soapbox


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to grasp public acclaim, to anoint oneself as the BGLO expert, to engage in polemic discourse for the sake of igniting controversy, or to offer rhetorical flourishes and sound bites if one is a clever wordsmith. We distinguish between the “masses” and the “public,” just as C. Wright Mills did; in the former are those who seek affirmation for what they are already doing, while in the latter are those who seek civic engagement around important social issues. Moreover, we do not collapse the scientific enterprise into moral idealism. While some believe that a public approach will pollute the objectivity of science, we assert that all scientific findings and analyses are inescapably intertwined with the economic, political, and cultural systems and interests in which they are embedded. This is not a new debate, the objectivity/value dispute rages on elsewhere and shows no apparent signs of ebbing. All this is to say, we find no requirement to “dumb-down” scholarship or to popularize it within a dominant fad. Rather, lucid analysis, accessibility, sincerity, and candor in scholarship are what matters. And they matter for pragmatic reasons. Over the past quarter century, gains in civil rights have been heavily counter-acted and reversed by huge market expansion and the normalization of a take-no-prisoners, neoliberal economic logic. Moreover, a growing politically conservative ethos is viciously attacking human rights and their guardian organizations, such as BGLOs. In sum, a public sociology is in order. Such a paradigm is based on five propositions: (1) the development of rigorous, empirical, critical, and accessible publications; (2) the growth of teaching opportunities that can be implemented at various levels that transcend the traditions of “town and gown”; (3) the dissemination of ideas that result in scientific and cultural literacy that in turn contribute to a growing democratic discourse; (4) programs that result in relevant policy in advice that can be pragmatically implanted in order to better the subjects of study; and (5) better functioning institutions, such as university departments, professional associations, and scholastic books and journals.

Is a Public-Realist BGLO Scholarship Possible? BGLO formalistic and professional thinking is best seen with regard to the debate—or lack thereof—surrounding the topic of hazing, pledging, and the membership intake process (MIP). In 1990, the “traditional” patterns of pledging were replaced by the MIP when the leaders of the individual members of the National Pan-Hellenic Council (NPHC) laid down a relatively undemocratically promulgated decision. In brief, the long-standing tradition of pledging was replaced with a three-day to three-week MIP composed of classroom-like settings of instruction and tests. Many BGLO members are of the attitude that the move should be followed blindly, while others remain decidedly opposed

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and have vowed to continue the pledging process as a collectively secret tradition that most know occurs, but of which few openly speak. As a result, many in the former camp argue that the issues of BGLO hazing would resolve themselves if members simply abided by the rules unquestioningly, without attention to why these rules and methods are manifest in their present fashion, in whose interests they really serve, what the policy goals of MIP are, and whether those goals have actually been met. Such members, BGLO administrators, and a large contingent of nonmember academic sectors—let us call them “professional formalists”—do not consider, or at the least do not act on their consideration with any great effect, whether MIP actually undermines the ultimate goals and mission of BGLOs. More broadly, BGLO professional formalists are disinclined from making connections with vast bodies of knowledge from a variety of disciplines that can be used to advance a critical knowledge of BGLOs. In contrast, BGLO “public realists” are interested in (1) how a variety of disciplines may help them advance the interests of their organizations and those for whom they advocate, (2) analyzing policy goals behind the rules within the organizations to determine if the rules help actualize those goals, and (3) critiquing not only the professional formalistic approach but also BGLOs themselves in an effort to strengthen these organizations. These elements are important within the framework of such democratic institutions. Members serve the legislative branch of BGLOs through their delegates. And an informed body of members, like an informed legislature, makes for a more effective government. An example of a public-realist approach to the MIP issue might be observed along a number of axes. Formalists argue against a broad debate and revisiting the issue; public realists seek public dialogue and resolution. Formalists believe dialogue need not occur, because there is a rule in place prohibiting further revision of the process. The rule is the “end-all, be-all,” the ultimate direction of problem solving. Formalists articulate a rationale that organizational leadership has the last say on the rule and that rules were instituted to stave off litigation and protect initiate safety. Public realists look behind the rule to determine if it comports with a rational understanding of organizational rules that have more primacy—that is, does it comport with the respective organization constitutions? Is it democratically promulgated? Furthermore, does it cohere with higher ideals of the organization—development of personal excellence, fictive kinship ties, and commitment to community uplift? For the public realists, empirical observation and informed theorizing can help answer this question. As to whether MIP may actually stave off litigation and saves lives, public realists eschew wishful thinking and pronouncements absent data. They look, instead, to how litigation, injuries, and deaths have been altered by MIP: whether MIP remedied, left unaltered, or exacerbated the issue. Formalists hide from


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inconvenient truths and those that reside outside of their intellectual and experiential comfort zones. Public realists seek answers anywhere they may lay. Our research on hazing rests on a burgeoning body of scholarship that deals with the intersection of hazing, identity, and culture, and does not simply pathologize those who fail to adhere to laws that they had no voice in implementing in the first place. Moreover, the public-realist study of BGLO violence was itself inspired by landmark studies of other “public realists” such as the insights of the critical theorist Jürgen Habermas in Ricky Jones’s Black Haze as well as various psychological and cultural theorists in Jones’s profound essay in The Hazing Reader. Public-realist studies took place via the insights of the theorist Michel Foucault in Matthew W. Hughey’s critique of the claim that BGLOs are little more than “educated gangs,” and in the deep historical analysis that traces pledging to both ancient African and European traditions in the work of Tamara Brown, Gloria Dickinson, Sandra Posey, and Carol Branch.64 Such scholarship is motivated by the concern for meaning and process endemic to the “cultural turn,” that was itself a partial result of the public-realist influence upon the academy. The fact that literature on this topic neither falls into a romantic conceptualization of BGLOs, nor simply pathologizes their actions for failing to jettison traditions and practices crucial to their identity, means that a public-realist BGLO approach is not only possible, it is already underway. The question is whether it will take root within BGLO’s everyday practice. Drawing from legal and sociological frameworks, we dedicate a great deal of our scholarship to addressing topics vital to BGLOs in order to contribute to the growing academic discourse and developing modes of scholastic inquiry dedicated to BGLOs.65 Moreover, we have brought many of the insights gleaned in academic studies to various public venues, such as Perspectives and Essentials, the Association of Fraternity Advisors’ two official outlets, Diverse Issues in Higher Education, Ebony, The Black College Wire, and even the official organs of BGLOs themselves.66 A robust public-realist approach to BGLOs that manifests itself in the continued critical and empirical studies of BGLOs will help to strengthen the voice to BGLOs while critiquing their shortcomings; it will also demand that a mainstream public take them as the serious political and human rights vehicles that they can be. Without such a public intellectual framework, BGLOs will become further marginalized in today’s social order, emerging only as commodities for the marketing of poorly constructed and caricatured films about stepping or over-priced retail specialty shops that trade in the promotion of Greek-letter license plates and line jackets. While the public-realist paradigm is instrumental in helping to constitute BGLOs as self-determinative entities in their own right, we have also prompted young BGLO members’ self-consciousness as embattled survivors of a society that would say they are unimportant today or even worse, never were and never will be. More than that, we can say that the broader publicity given to BGLOs

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and their struggles with the violence of hazing have helped other organizations, writers, and activists to focus their attention on the problems of hazing and abuse. Together, we are starting to open up a dialogue that is a bit more sophisticated than simply passing a law and expecting legal dogma to work like a magic wand.

Within This Book We are proud of the authors and contributors assembled herein. For many of them, their works were labors of both love and patience. In what follows, we briefly cover each of the chapters and alert the reader to the distinguished contributors who have read each of the chapters and written about how and why each chapter contains significance for us today. Their remarks are placed at the end of each chapter. Marybeth Gasman provides us with an overview of how BGLOs made significant contributions to the civil rights movement, as well as how they embodied substantial contradictions. She argues that while the BGLOs helped to promote economic empowerment, community service, and a sense of racial pride, they also reproduced much of the same class elitism that wreaked havoc on the black lower class, which they were supposedly serving. While historical in substance, her words find poignancy in our contemporary moment. Moving from the macro to the micro, Yolanda Y. Johnson interrogates the life of Loraine R. Green, the second national president of Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority. Her life stands as an excellent example of early public sociology and fits well with our previous discussion of how one merges academia with activism. Chapter 4 explores the resurgence of religion and its intersection with BGLO organizing. In this vein, Kenneth I. Clarke Sr. and Tamara L. Brown demonstrate how BGLOs stand as diverse theological-political institutions that destabalize the claim that they are either incompatible with a Judeo-Christian belief system or that BGLO principles and practices emerged whole cloth from the same. In shifting gears to examine the gender politics of black fraternalism, T. Elon Dancy II affords an examination of the intersection between student identity, masculinity, and the processes by which black male Greek students labor to construct a meaningful identity. In particular, and despite dominant discourses concerning black fraternities, Dancy does an excellent job of showing how black fraternities operate as important sites of production for a kind of black masculinity that neither collapses easily into that of a “thug,” nor becomes that of an aloof and apolitical student. In the following chapter, Reynaldo Anderson, Paul M. Buckley, and Natalie T. J. Tindall take up the very fraternity stereotypes that Dancy’s subjects must navigate. Examining the tropes of the “Man’s Man,” “Ladies’ Man,” and “Gentleman” as they relate to Omega Psi Phi, Kappa Alpha


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Psi, and Alpha Phi Alpha fraternities, they demonstrate how these relatively newfound cultural images are partially propelled by the racist imagery of black men as animals. In so doing, the authors provide a clarion call for a reexamination of such imagery and in whose interests such iconography may work. As a bookend to that section, chapters 7 and 8 move to the topic of racial identity and racism. Edith Wen-Chu Chen examines the rather taboo topic of nonblack members of BGLOs through a case study of Asian American women in a black sorority. Also, Shanette C. Porter and Gregory S. Parks offer a treatise on unconscious antiblack bias held by BGLO members. In the former, Chen argues that white racism and supremacy drove Asian American women to seek membership in black sororities, while these women also must deal with the effects of white supremacy as manifest in social cleavages aligned with class and skin-color divisions. In the latter, Porter and Parks show the surprising results of an important study. Despite the hopes that BGLOs would afford some protection from the effects of antiblack ideology, Porter and Parks empirically demonstrate that BGLO members adopt many of the same pro-white biases as nonmembers. Accordingly, such a finding begs the question: what should BGLOs do to more directly confront the social and psychological effects of white supremacy on the members and others to whom they are to serve? In moving to the arena of popular culture production and reception, Robin Means Coleman examines the Delta Sigma Theta sorority’s attempt to counter society’s antiblack biases through their production and release of Countdown to Kusini in 1976. Resulting in a series of victories and tragic defeats, the story of Kusini now stands as a testament to how BGLOs might endeavor to confront racism via popular culture in the future. Following in the theme of silver-screen productions, Matthew W. Hughey interrogates the recent film Stomp the Yard. Bringing critical sociological analysis to bear on “sounds and sophistication of stepping” as exemplified in the film, Hughey argues that the film perpetuates a set of mythologies about race, class, urban settings, schools, and the memory of the civil rights movement. In so doing, the film transforms these identities and memories into a kind of shallow and hallow commodity that dulls the sharp edge of BGLOs’ past and present activism. Shifting from cultural production to the everyday reception and performance of identity, Marcia Hernandez aptly demonstrates how black sorority women engage in “appearance enforcement” to challenge the negative images of black womanhood that are propagated throughout popular culture. Yet, such resistance is particularly double-edged—in refusing to succumb to the dominant images of black women as either “mammies” or “jezebels,” many employ harsh class distinctions and entrenched “us versus them” worldviews. The next section addresses what is arguably one of the most important topics endemic to the present, and future, of BGLO life and organizing—hazing and pledging. In a debate drowning in vociferous and emotional opinions on

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every imaginable dimension of the issue, both Dwayne J. Scott and Dara Aquila Govan bring empirical social science and legal reasoning to bear on the issues. In this sense, both chapters represent a refreshing change from the dominant opinion-driven tone and timbre of the conversation. Their chapters stand as a testament to why we should bring diverse empirically driven answers to bear on a literal life-or-death problem for BGLOs. First, Scott illuminates how both undergraduate and alumna members interpret hazing as either a positive or negative practice depending on whether such activities will support their organizations’ principles of brother/sister-hood, leadership, scholarship, achievement, and community service. This finding throws into relief the common claim that those who “haze” are doing so because of “bad values” or a pathological penchant for power. Moreover, in questioning the connection between such vice and virtue, Scott’s work shows that BGLOs must do a better job in not just “forbidding hazing” but also in allowing for differing forms of praxis to achieve those principles. Hence, the solution may not be a shorter membership intake process, but a longer more intensive process that teaches adherence to principles through nonabusive means. Second, Dara Aquila Goven, a legal scholar, argues that BGLOs should return to “pledging,” but a much more enlightened kind. Goven shows that without addressing these issues pragmatically, with the knowledge that the current membership intake system is not working and that many still pledge and haze “underground,” BGLOs may soon reach financial ruin, a crucial preamble to closing their doors. To avoid such an end, Goven argues that BGLOs must (1) engage in more dialogue about membership intake, (2) perform organizational studies to gauge “acceptable” components of the process, (3) share such information with the general bodies of each fraternity and sorority in order to reach democratic consensus, (4) revisit and possibly raise the standards for membership selection, and (5) strengthen the current anti-hazing policies and procedures. We agree that such steps are, at the least, a necessary beginning. In the last section of the book, Terrell L. Strayhorn, Fred McCall, and Stephanie M. McClure examine the heart of BGLOs—their everyday life on college campuses. First, Strayhorn and McCall compare and contrast BGLOs at predominantly white institutions (PWIs) and historically black colleges and universities (HBCUs). In examining data from publications and students’ own words, we learn about how intrinsic/extrinsic motivations, knowledge acquisition, investments, and benefits all vary when compared to joining a BGLO at a PWI or an HBCU. By illuminating the contexts surrounding why people join, we learn a lot about how students may be socialized differently and seek different means and ends in regard to their choice of BGLO. McClure analyzes survey and focus group data in regard to how Greek membership impacts student satisfaction for both black and white students. Despite the fact that BGLO


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members have a support system, McClure finds that African Americans are in dire need of academic support systems. This gestures toward an important realization, that the trials and tribulations of BGLOs do not occur in a vacuum, but are connected to the support systems, or lack thereof, made available to students.

Conclusion Black Greek-Letter Organizations 2.0: New Directions in the Study of African American Fraternities and Sororities presents a map of BGLOs’ lived responses to the social exigencies of the last one hundred years. Beginning with the turn of the twentieth century, BGLOs were birthed in the shadow of freshly new post-emancipation and reconstruction national projects that were characterized by retrenched white nationalist and supremacist movements and Jim Crow policies that disenfranchised African Americans via poll taxes and literary requirements.67 However, BGLOs paradoxically grew even while members enlisted in and supported the United States in the First World War and they flourished during the Harlem Renaissance that no doubt would have failed to occur without BGLO members such as Alain Leroy Locke (Phi Beta Sigma), James Weldon Johnson (Phi Beta Sigma), Zora Neale Hurston (Zeta Phi Beta), W. E. B. Du Bois (Alpha Phi Alpha), Marian Anderson (Alpha Kappa Alpha), Langston Hughes (Omega Psi Phi), and many others. BGLOs’ collective function as a haven of brotherhood and support during the Great Depression of the 1930s, their commitment of soldiers to the Second World War, and their unparalleled support through economic and human capital during the civil rights movement laid a strong foundation that enabled their quick mobilization for the “Jena Six” in Louisiana in late 2007.68 This project not only opens up the developing discourse on BGLOs, but also presents a nuanced reading of the cultural, social, and political situations of African Americans throughout history and today. Hence, the overall question this volume attempts to answer is: How can we reframe BGLOs in order to rethink the dialectic between theory and action for today? By thinking and working through BGLOs in such a manner, this project seeks to widen new interdisciplinary horizons in the African American fraternal tradition by not only scrutinizing BGLOs and opening new intellectual insights, but also by reflexively gesturing toward the identification of BGLOs’ problems and the pragmatic solutions to those tribulations.

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Notes 1. Gregory S. Parks, “Introduction: Toward a Critical Scholarship,” Black GreekLetter Organizations in the 21st Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, ed. Gregory S. Parks (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008), 1–16. 2. Laura Morgan Roberts and Lynn Perry Wooten, “Exploring Black Greek-Letter Organizations Through a Positive Organizing Lens,” in Black Greek-Letter Organizations in the 21st Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, ed. Gregory S. Parks (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008), 273–88. 3. Studies of residential segregation generally rely on one or more of six measures, each of which captures a different dimension of the spatial distribution of groups. Evenness, measured as the index of dissimilarity, describes the degree to which a group is evenly distributed across neighborhoods or tracts. Isolation is interpreted as the percentage of the same race in the average group member’s neighborhood or tract. The inverse of isolation is exposure, interpreted as the average probability of contact with a person of another racial comparison group. These are the most commonly reported measures. The other three measures are concentration (a group’s degree of density), clustering (proximity to the central business district), and centralization (the contiguity of their neighborhoods). See Nancy A. Denton, “Are African Americans Still Hypersegregated?” Residential Apartheid: The American Legacy, ed. Robert Bullard, Charles Lee, and J. Eugene Grigsby (Los Angeles: UCLA Center for African American Studies, 1994), and Douglas S. Massey and Nancy A. Denton, American Apartheid: Segregation and the Making of the Underclass (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1993). 4. Douglas S. Massey, Categorically Unequal: The American Stratification System (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 2007). 5. Devah Pager, “The Mark of a Criminal Record,” American Journal of Sociology 108, no. 5 (2003): 937–75. Devah Pager and Lincoln Quillian, “Walking the Talk: What Employers Say Versus What They Do,” American Sociological Review 70, no. 3 (2005): 355–80. 6. Cornel West, American Evasion of Philosophy (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1989), 5. 7. Robert L. Hayman Jr., Nancy Levit, and Richard Delgado, Jurisprudence: Classical and Contemporary: From Natural Law to Postmodernism, 2nd ed. (Los Angeles: West Group Publishing, 1995), 156. 8. Morton J. Horowitz, “The Rise of Legal Formalism,” American Journal of Legal History 19 (1975): 256. 9. See Joel Seligman, The High Citadel: The Influence of Harvard Law School (Burlington, Mass.: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1978), 20; Alfred Z. Reed, Training for the Public Profession of the Law: Historical Development and Principal Contemporary Problems of Legal Education in the United States with Some Account of the Conditions in England and Canada (New York: The Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, 1921), 458; and Robert Stevens, Law School: Legal Education in America from the 1850s to the 1980s (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1983), 39. 10. Stevens, Law School, 35–36. 11. Thomas C. Grey, “Langdell’s Orthodoxy,” University of Pittsburg Law Review 45 (1983): 2, note 6. 12. Hayman Jr. et al., Jurisprudence, 158. 13. Stevens, Law School, 38.


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14. Reed, Training for the Public Profession of the Law, 458. 15. Stevens, Law School, 39. 16. Mark V. Tushnet, The NAACP Legal Strategy against Segregated Education, 1925– 1950 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1987), 118. 17. Hayman Jr. et al., Jurisprudence, 157–58. 18. Ibid. 19. Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., The Common Law (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company, 1881), 1. 20. Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., “The Profession of the Law,” in The Collected Works of Justice Holmes: Complete Public Writings and Selected Judicial Opinions of Oliver Wendell Holmes, ed. Sheldon M. Novick (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), 472. 21. Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., “The Path of the Law,” in Collected Legal Papers (New York: Harcourt Brace & Howe, 1920), 167. 22. Benjamin N. Cardozo, The Nature of the Judicial Process (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1921, 1949), 69, 71. 23. Ibid., 72, 102. 24. G. Edward White, “From Sociological Jurisprudence to Realism: Jurisprudence and Social Change in Early Twentieth-Century America,” Virginia Law Review 58 (1972): 999. 25. Michael Ray Hill, “Roscoe Pound and American Sociology: A Study in Archival Frame Analysis, Sociobiography, and Sociological Jurisprudence” (Ph.D. diss., University of Nebraska-Lincoln, 1989), 386–576. 26. Roscoe Pound, “Do We Need a Philosophy of Law?” Columbia Law Review (1905): 339, 344, 351. 27. Jerold L. Auerbach, Unequal Justice: Lawyers and Social Change in Modern America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1976), 82–83. 28. Roscoe Pound, “Law in Books and Law in Action,” American Law Review 44 (1910): 12. 29. N. E. H. Hull, Roscoe Pound & Karl Llewellyn: Searching for an American Jurisprudence (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997), 81–85; David Wigdor, Roscoe Pound: Philosopher of Law (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1974), 183–205; Roscoe Pound, “The Scope and Purpose of Sociological Jurisprudence,” Harvard Law Review 24 (1911): 591; Roscoe Pound, “The Scope and Purpose of Sociological Jurisprudence,” Harvard Law Review 25 (1912): 489 [hereinafter Pound, “The Scope and Purpose” (1912)]. 30. Auerbach, Unequal Justice, 149. For a more in-depth look at Pound’s impact on the “realists,” see Wilfred E. Rumble Jr., American Legal Realism, Reform, and the Judicial Process (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1968), 9–20. See also Terry Di Filippo, “Roscoe Pound’s Jurisprudence: Interest Theory in Legal Philosophy” (Ph.D. diss., SUNY Buffalo, August 1987), 256–315. 31. Stevens, Law School, 135. 32. Laura Kalman, Legal Realism at Yale, 1927–1960 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1986), 67–97. 33. Patrick Ewick, Robert A. Kagan, and Austin Sarat, “Legacies of Legal Realism: Social Science, Social Policy, and the Law,” in Social Science, Social Policy, and the Law, ed. Patrick Ewick, Robert A. Kagan, and Austin Sarat (New York: Russell Sage, 1999), 1, 30, note 3. 34. Stevens, Law School, 156.

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35. Karl N. Llewellyn, “Some Realism About Realism: Responding to Dean Pound,” Harvard Law Review 44 (1931): 1222–24. 36. Ibid. 37. James E. Herget, American Jurisprudence, 1870–1970: A History (Houston, Tex.: Rice University Press, 1990), 220; Harold Lasswell and Myers McDougal, “Jurisprudence in a Policy-Oriented Perspective,” University of Florida Law Review 19 (1966): 486, 495 (noting the realists’ “vivid assault” on traditional jurisprudence); Myers McDougal, Harold D. Lasswell, and W. Michael Reisman, “Theories About International Law: Prologue to a Configurative Jurisprudence,” Virginia Journal of International Law 8 (1968): 188, 261 (noting realism’s failure to provide a “positive systematic theory”). 38. Myers McDougal and Harold Lasswell, “Criteria for a Theory about Law,” Southern California Law Review 44 (1971): 362, 373. 39. Lasswell and McDougal, “Jurisprudence in a Policy-Oriented Perspective,” 495. See also Laura Kalman, Legal Realism at Yale, 177. 40. Herget, American Jurisprudence, 220–21. Stevens, Law School, 265. 41. Felice J. Levine, “Goose Bumps and ‘The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life’ in Sociolegal Studies: After Twenty-five Years,” Law & Society Review 24 (1990): 7, 10. 42. SeeWhite, “From Realism to Critical Legal Studies,” 830. See David M. Trubek, “Back to the Future: The Short, Happy Life of the Law and Society Movement,” Florida State University Law Review 18 (1990): 5–7. 43. Frank Munger, “Mapping Law and Society,” in Crossing Boundaries: Traditions and Transformations in Law and Society Research, ed. Austin Sarat (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 1998), 25. 44. See Lawrence M. Friedman, “The Law and Society Movement,” Stanford Law Review 38 (1986): 763, 766. 45. Trubek, “Back to the Future,” 6. 46. Laura Kalman, “The Dark Ages,” in History of the Yale Law School, ed. Anthony T. Kronman (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2004), 203. See Kalman, The Strange Career of Legal Liberalism, 82 (noting David Trubek’s ties to both the law and society movement and Critical Legal Studies). 47. See White, “From Realism to Critical Legal Studies,” 834. 48. Richard Nunan, “Critical Legal Parracide, or: What’s So Bad About WarmedOver Legal Realism?” in Radical Critiques of the Law, ed. Stephen M. Griffin and Robert C. L. Moffat (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1997), 33. 49. See Mark Tushnet, “Critical Legal Studies: A Political History,” Yale Law Journal 100 (1991): 1516. 50. “Notes and Memoranda,” Quarterly Journal of Economics 20, no. 2 (February 1906): 301–3. 51. William Ogburn, Recent Social Trends in the United States: Report of the President’s Research Committee on Social Trends (New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1933). 52. Samuel Stouffer, Studies in Social Psychology in World War II: The American Soldier (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1949). 53. Michael Burawoy, “2004 American Sociological Association Presidential Address: For Public Sociology,” British Journal of Sociology 56, no. 2 (2005): 259–94, 260. 54. John J. Cerullo, “The Epistemic Turn: Critical Sociology and the “Generation of ’68,” International Journal of Politics, Culture, and Society 8, no. 1 (September 1994): 169–81.


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55. Joyce A. Ladner, The Death of White Sociology (New York: Random House, 1973). 56. Chet Ballard, “An Epistle on the Origin and Early History of the Association for Humanist Sociology,” American Sociologist 33, no. 3 (December 2002): 37–61. 57. Jonathan H. Turner, “American Sociology in Chaos: Differentiation without Integration,” American Sociologist 37, no. 2 (June 2006): 15–29. 58. Herbert Gans, “Sociology in America: The Discipline and the Public,” American Sociological Review 54, no. 1 (February 1989): 1–16. 59. We impute that Burawoy intentionally modeled his 2004 ASA presidential speech after Karl Marx’s infamous indictment of Feuerbach, as Marx’s grand theory has found fruition in the “scientific socialist” paradigms of critical and public sociologies that aim to illuminate inequality, cultural contradictions, and oppression. The parallel did, however, strike a discordant note among some who recoiled from Burawoy comparing himself with Marx. 60. Dan Clawson, Robert Zussman, Joya Misra, Naomi Gerstel, Randall Stokes, Douglas L. Anderton, and Michael Burawoy, Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-first Century (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2007). 61. Advid Brady, “Why Public Sociology May Fail,” Social Forces 82 (2004): 1629– 38; Francois Nielsen, “The Vacant ‘We’: Remarks on Public Sociology,” Social Forces 82 (2004): 1619–27; Charles Tittle, “The Arrogance of Public Sociology,” Social Forces 82 (2004): 1639–43. 62. Judith Blau and Keri Iyall Smith, The Public Sociologies Reader (New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 2006); Larry Nichols, Public Sociology: The Contemporary Debate (Edison, N.J.: Transaction Publishers); Clawson et al., Public Sociology. 63. Dorothy Smith, Institutional Ethnography: A Sociology for People (Oxford: AltaMira, 2005). 64. Ricky Jones, Black Haze: Violence, Sacrifice, and Manhood in Black Greek-Letter Fraternities (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2004); Ricky Jones, “Examining Violence in Black Fraternity Pledging,” in The Hazing Reader: Examining Violence in Black Fraternity Pledging, ed. Hank Nuwer (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2004), 110–29; Matthew W. Hughey, “‘Cuz I’m Young and I’m Black and My Hat’s Real Low?’: A Critique of Black Greeks as ‘Educated Gangs,’” in Black Greek-Letter Organizations in the 21st Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, ed. Gregory S. Parks (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008), 385–417; Gregory S. Parks and Tamara L. Brown, “‘In the Fell Clutch of Circumstance’: Pledging and the Black Greek Experience,” 437–64; “Pledged to Remember: African in the Life and Lore of Black Greek-Letter Organizations,” 11–36; Sandra M. Posey, “The Body Art of Brotherhood,” 269–94; Carol D. Branch, “Variegated Roots: The Foundations of Stepping,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005). 65. Matthew W. Hughey, “Brotherhood or Brothers in the ’Hood? Debunking the ‘Educated Gang’ Thesis as Black Fraternity and Sorority Slander,” Race, Ethnicity, and Education 11, no. 4 (December 2008): 443–63; Matthew W. Hughey, “Virtual (Br)others and (Re)sisters: Authentic Black Fraternity and Sorority Identity on the Internet,” Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 37, no. 5 (October 2008): 528–60; Matthew W. Hughey, “Crossing the Sands, Crossing the Color-Line: Non-Black members of Historically

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Black Greek Organizations,” Journal of African American Studies 11, no. 1 (June 2007): 55–75; Matthew W. Hughey, “Rushing the Wall, Crossing the Sands: Cross-Racial Membership in U.S. College Fraternities & Sororities,” in Brothers and Sisters: Diversity in College Fraternities and Sororities, ed. G. S. Parks and C. Torbenson (Madison, N.J.: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2009), 307–64; Matthew W. Hughey, “Fraternities and Sororities,” in Encyclopedia of Race, Ethnicity, and Society, Vol. 1, ed. R. Schaefer (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage Press, 2008), 508–12. 66. Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks, “The Education of the Black Fraternity and Sorority Advisor, Ten Critiques,” Perspectives (Spring 2008): 22–25; Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks, “Measuring Up: Twelve Steps Closer to a Solution on BGLO Hazing,” Essentials: A Publication for Members of the Association of Fraternity Advisors (October 2007); Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks, “Broken Bonds: Are Black Greek Organizations Making Themselves Irrelevant?” Diverse Issues in Higher Education 24, no. 9 (June 2007): 21; Gregory S. Parks, “Are Black ‘Greeks’ Relevant?: A Not-So-Simple Answer to a Not-So-Simple Question,” Ebony, October 2007, 142; Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks, “A Bleak Future for Black Greeks,” The Black College Wire, March 9, 2007; Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks, “African American Fraternities and Sororities: A Time for Collaborative Action,” AURORA: The Official Organ of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Inc. (Spring/Summer 2007): 26–27. 67. It is of critical importance and out of profound respectful remembrance that we point out that the first BGLO, Alpha Kappa Nu, was founded at Indiana University in 1903. That this event took place just forty years after the official end of slavery and within a nouveau social order of sharecropping, Jim Crow, and the rise of white nationalist and supremacist organizations (especially in Indiana) is a stark reminder of the struggles and obstacles these men undertook with the mission to “strengthen the negro voice” on campus and in the community. The roots of this organization stretch back to student literary organizations like the Henondelphisterian Society (in the 1820s), the Athenian and Philomathean Societies (in the 1830s), and the developing white Greek organizations like Phi Delta Theta (1849) that expanded to four fraternities by 1870. Just two decades later, black students started to enroll at Indiana University (the official record shows that three entered in 1890). 68. The “Jena Six” is the name given to a group of six black teenagers who were charged with fighting a white teenager in a high school in Jena, Louisiana, on December 4, 2006 (ironically, the centennial anniversary of Alpha Phi Alpha). The Jena Six case sparked protests by those viewing the arrests and subsequent charges, such as attempted murder, as excessive and racially discriminatory. The protesters believed that white Jena youths involved in other incidents were treated leniently. On September 20, 2007, between 10,000 and 20,000 protesters marched on Jena in what was described as the “largest civil rights demonstration in years.” BGLOs were a large contingent of the protest and were instrumental in raising awareness about their arrest and prosecution.

Chapter One Commentary Lynn Perry Wooten

In this chapter, Hughey and Parks bring to our attention the need for critical and empirical research on BGLOs. They assert that theoretical insights from the social sciences can further advance the legitimacy of BGLOs, especially in a society that is perceived by some as color-blind or post-racial. Moreover, the authors of this chapter contend that critical and empirical scholarship on BGLOs creates a knowledge base for these organizations to analyze its modern-day problems and explicitly capitalize on the lessons learned from its best practices. As an illustration of the applicability of critical theories for studying BGLOs, Hughey and Parks examine how the fields of legal studies and sociology offer pragmatic application for studying BGLOs. Drawing from theoretical insights, the authors contrast the paradoxical tensions of formalism versus realism from a jurisprudence perspective, and the use of professional versus public sociology as lens for producing knowledge on BGLOs. From a jurisprudential school of thought, we learn that the formalism viewpoint suggests that innovations should be reconciled with legal principles. The formalism viewpoint is rigid and does not account for changes in societal values and norms. In contrast, legal realism provides us with a paradigm that sees the law as flexible with permeating boundaries that can transcend to solve current-day problems. Somewhat comparable to legal realism, pubic sociology moves beyond the confines of traditional academic thought to make research accessible for confronting the current challenges of society. In the case of BGLOs, embracing a public-realist approach will enable these organizations to critically examine issues such as the membership intake process, and even their relevancy in today’s society. Take for example the membership intake process of BGLOs and the problematic hazing associated with it. Have leaders of BGLOs looked under the surface of hazing rules and drawn from research to understand the implications of its historical roots, psychological mindset, and sociological behavior? If so, I believe these organizations would 23

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be in a better position to develop sustainable solutions for hazing. Similarly, many research disciplines provide a problem-solution–oriented framework for BGLOs to not only assess their relevancy, but to also develop futuristic thinking programs that live up to the vision of their founders. As we can conclude from the chapter, research can propel BGLOs to move beyond the status quo of existence. Throughout their discourse, Hughey and Parks challenge us to employ research on BGLOs as a vehicle for framing thoughts and empowering actions. To take this challenge seriously, scholars studying topics germane to BGLOs must build a bridge that translates their research into relevant knowledge. However, this bridge is worthless if leaders of BGLOS are not willing to use and diffuse the knowledge throughout their organizations. Thus, it is time for both scholars and BGLOs to work collectively and seize the opportunity that intellectual insights can contribute to building extraordinary organizations.

Part II

BGLOs and the Intersection of Leadership, Religion, and Civil Rights


2. Passive Activism African American Fraternities and Sororities and the Push for Civil Rights

Marybeth Gasman

Black Greek-letter organizations (BGLOs) have a rich history of service, activism, and leadership training.1 These organizations have also been the subject of much critique, including charges of elitism, hazing, and colorism.2 In recent years, intense criticism has overshadowed many important contributions that BGLOs made throughout their history. During the late 1950s and 1960s, for example, members of BGLOs participated in myriad ways in the struggle for civil rights.3 Much of this participation is lost upon contemporary audiences, evident in hard-to-find house histories, BGLO archival papers, and black newspaper articles. Given the intense criticism from black intellectuals such as E. Franklin Frazier, many scholars may assume, at first glance, that BGLOs sat on the sidelines entirely during the turbulent 1960s.4 This is not the case; however, the type of activism demonstrated by BGLOs was often different in form than that associated with the civil rights movement. The purpose of this chapter is to examine the role of BGLOs in the fight for civil rights for African Americans. Using historical methods and sources such as archival papers, newspaper articles, personal narratives, and secondary sources, I will tell the story of black fraternities and sororities in the civil rights struggle, highlighting their activist and leadership roles. A unifying idea in this investigation is that of agency: the ability of historical players to act on their own behalf; they are agents of their own change. I will uncover examples of agency on the part of BGLOs—but also examine charges of passivity: that materialism, elitism, and complacency prevented BGLOs from being advocates of progress and change. After I present a historical backdrop, I divide this chapter into overarching themes culled from the historical data. These themes include challenge to and endorsement of the national government, educating the masses, financial support, and internal and external critique. 27

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Historical Backdrop Beginning in the late 1950s, many African Americans began to listen more closely to national and world politics, taking notice of their role in making change.5 This increased awareness led many blacks to challenge the status quo and the contradictions of Jim Crow segregation. For example, Howard University students, including BGLO members who were labeled “Black Anglo-Saxons” by former Howard professor Nathan Hare, began to identify with fellow blacks of other socioeconomic strata in the struggle against racism.6 According to the historian Charles Smith, white southerners regarded this “change” in blacks as an “unexpected break with traditional patterns of ‘good racial relations.’”7 At the same time, the United States’ Cold War efforts, and particularly its goal of preventing Soviet inroads into the so-called developing world, set the stage for the civil rights movement to succeed.8 The existence of discriminating laws in the South became an increasingly awkward situation for U.S. presidents during the Cold War as they sought to uphold the nation’s standing as leader of the free world, and this hastened segregation’s demise. Numerous scholars have pointed to the confrontations in Birmingham as the quintessential example of how the civil rights movement seized the world stage at a critical point in U.S. history. As the world reacted in horror to Birmingham, Alabama, police commissioner Bull Conner’s dogs and fire hoses, the United States was forced to act on behalf of the black protesters or risk tipping the balance of world opinion toward the Soviet Union.9 Overall, African Americans during the 1960s thought that the United States was in need of radical change and viewed an integrated society as desirable.10 Moreover, many, including BGLO members, felt a sense of racial pride that gave them the ability to overcome obstacles.11

Challenges to and Endorsements of the United States Government Although BGLOs began as a mechanism for social interaction among African Americans, they eventually became active in the fight for civil rights due to the racial inequality in the country.12 Efforts were slow and steady, with the various BGLOs chipping away at the racist policies at the local and national level. Throughout the civil rights movement, BGLOs challenged those government policies and individuals that did not support the African American agenda and lauded those that did. For example, in 1945, the central leadership of Alpha Kappa Alpha (AKA) met in Detroit to expand their national platform on civil rights in response to World War II.13 During this same year, the sorority urged the U.S. Government to open jobs in the Veterans Administration (VA)

Passive Activism: The Push for Civil Rights

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to blacks, noting, “It is of the most urgent necessity that qualified Negroes be placed in positions in the U.S. Veterans Administration where they can assist in shaping and enforcing democratic policies.”14 The AKA statement was made in an effort to ensure that “full benefits of legislation for Negro war veterans and their dependents” were fulfilled.15 Also in 1945, when Harry S. Truman came to the U.S. presidency, a delegation from Omega Psi Phi heralded Truman as “Mr. Civil Rights” and commended his “forthright and unswerving activity to wipe out racial discrimination.”16 Acknowledging Truman’s actions on behalf of African Americans and civil rights in general, the men of Omega Psi Phi proclaimed, “after the tumult and the shouting of this era have ended history will acknowledge your greatest contribution was the reawakening of this generation’s consciousness to the gap between our stated ideals and our day-to-day practices.”17 Truman would go on to desegregate the U.S. military in 1948, coming through on his promises to African Americans.18 The most influential action on the part of BGLOs during the 1950s was the establishment of the American Council on Human Rights (ACHR), which was formed to protest government policies. Alpha Kappa Alpha’s National Nonpartisan Council on Public Affairs created the ACHR, which was made up of six of the BGLOs—Alpha Kappa Alpha, Delta Sigma Theta, Sigma Gamma Rho, Zeta Phi Beta, Alpha Phi Alpha, and Kappa Alpha Psi.19 At the initial meeting of the ACHR, one of the founders of Alpha Phi Alpha, Henry Arthur Callis, reminded the brothers and sisters that they were responsible for carrying “the welfare of 15 million people” on their shoulders whether they “liked it or not,”20 thus, prompting everyone present to acknowledge the obligation that they had to other blacks. The main goal of the ACHR was to push Congress and the federal government to enact policies and laws that improved civil rights for African Americans.21 Members of the ACHR were mainly “middle-class African Americans with bourgeois values.”22 Although ACHR members represented Du Bois’s “talented tenth,” they did not always live up to his revolutionary spirit. However, they did feel “an obligation to set standards of respectability for Black America, especially in interactions with the broader society after the fall of segregation.”23 According to Robert L. Harris Jr., “Education was the ACHR’s chief means to bring about change in civil rights and human relations, and it sought to involve members of black Greek-letter organizations in social and political action. BGLOs had a reputation for being insular and remote from the masses of African Americans.”24 Through ACHR, BGLOs protested many of Dwight Eisenhower’s policies toward African Americans as well as his moderate stance toward desegregation. For example, in 1953, when Eisenhower refused to sign a United Nations covenant on human and women’s rights, the ACHR drafted statements to be

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distributed throughout the country. These statements noted that “the decision not to sign the human rights covenant could be construed only as a setback for the cause of human rights in this country and throughout the world.”25 Although organizations such as the ACHR provided needed support to those protesting, they rarely were seen on the front lines of the civil rights movement. They were more apt to educate those students who did the protesting. For example, between 1956 and 1960, the ACHR, through a series of workshops, educated over five hundred students on voting rights, discrimination in employment and housing, and desegregation issues within schools. The organization was trying to sow the seeds of knowledge and resistance in these young people.26 Interestingly, by 1957, all of the fraternities in the ACHR dropped out. Omega Psi Phi never joined; Phi Beta Sigma left in 1952, Alpha Phi Alpha pulled out in 1956, and Kappa Alpha Psi ended their affiliation in 1957. The fraternities turned their efforts toward organizations such as the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, the NAACP, the Congress of Racial Equality, and the National Urban League; and the ACHR became known as a mostly-female organization. Each of these “male dominated organizations were headed by members of fraternities, which might explain why the sororities continued their support of the ACHR.”27 Interestingly, issues of gender are rarely addressed by scholars studying the history of the civil rights movement.28 One exception is Gender Talk written by Johnnetta B. Cole and Beverly Guy-Sheftal. In this brave book, the authors point to the words of key civil rights and black power leaders, noting the sexism that lay buried in their outlooks and mantras. For example, Cole and Guy-Sheftal’s analysis of the ideologies of Amiri Baraka and Maulana Karenga, founder of the Los Angeles–based organization US, shows that each man envisioned a submissive role for black women. The authors point to the blatant disregard that many mainstream civil rights organizations and their black male leaders had for black females, despite the heroic efforts of these women.29 Some of this disregard may have been present in the ACHR. Although the ACHR had a significant impact during the years of intense civil rights activities, individual fraternities and sororities also pushed back against policy decisions. Putting the government and politicians on notice was a common tactic for moving civil rights to the top of the national agenda. In 1956, the brothers of Kappa Alpha Psi issued a broad proclamation to both the Republican and Democratic parties, making their expectations well known to prominent whites in the country. The Kappas sought for African Americans: protection of the right to vote and elimination of the poll tax, equal use of all tax-supported facilities, integration of schools, fair housing, and employment.30 With great enthusiasm, the men “charged that the political parties of the nation must acknowledge a full responsibility for the establishment and preservation of real democratic principles.”31 Likewise, in 1958, the women of Delta


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Sigma Theta unveiled a five-point plan for increasing African American job opportunities in front of Eisenhower’s Committee on Government Contracts. Their plan included an educational campaign on employment, support of mental health facilities, increased community service, and an emphasis on international aid.32 In 1958, George Flemmings, the past president of Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, served as the keynote speaker for his organization’s forty-fourth annual conclave. Flemmings used the opportunity to chastise the leaders in the United States, both black and white, calling them complacent and “pitiful.” He urged his fraternity brothers to be “eternally vigilant” to the cause of civil rights and reminded them that there is a vast difference between desegregation and integration—integration would take time.33 The BGLOs were pleased with the presidency of Lyndon B. Johnson, by and large, and several of the organizations honored him. Johnson signed and publicly endorsed the 1964 Civil Rights Act, which was the impetus for significant gains for African Americans throughout the nation. In 1965, the women of Sigma Gamma Rho sorority praised Lyndon B. Johnson for his role in enhancing civil rights for African Americans. At their annual convention, they adopted resolutions that supported programs aimed at advancing civil rights, achieving full equality for blacks, and garnering additional support for the NAACP.34 Richard Nixon’s reign as president brought much frustration to the African American community. At their 1969 national convention, for example, Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity chastised President Nixon for his “do nothing, go slow policy where human and civil rights of blacks are concerned.”35 They also accused Nixon of “paying off political debts” at the expense of African Americans. Likewise, at the 1969 Alpha Phi Alpha annual meeting, their president Ernest N. Morial proclaimed, “We are calling upon the Federal Government to lead the way in implementing fair employment practices . . . Equal employment opportunities must become a reality if the Federal Government expects to qualify as an equal opportunity employer.”36 In 1971, the politically active women of Delta Sigma Theta slapped Nixon on the wrists for his stand against school busing. Over eighteen hundred sorors came together at their national convention to chastise the president, noting, As a Southern governor stood at the door barring a Black woman from entering a state university, President Nixon is now standing in the doorway of every school in this nation, refusing free access to all minority children to equal educational opportunities. The President has announced he is against busing and has instructed federal agencies to “hold busing to the minimum required by law” or staff changes will be made. When the President takes his solemn oath of office he swears to uphold the law of the land. His duty is to administer

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the laws on an equal basis to all people. To defy and circumvent the law on a selective basis is to exceed Presidential authority.37 The sorors appealed to the father in Nixon, stating, “He must show that he cares about our children, and about peace and order.”38 By 1973, some of the fraternities and sororities were beginning to assess the gains of the 1960s. Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, for instance, met to discuss “ways for stopping the corrosion of ‘rights’ won by blacks during the 60’s by the present administration in Washington.”39 Specifically, Parlett Moore, the national president, stated that the thrust of the fraternity is to “seriously discuss these inroads on our hard won black rights which are being corroded because of this apparent disregard for ‘Black Rights’ by the Nixon Administration.”40

Educating the Masses Making proclamations and speaking out publicly was not the only way that the BGLOs attempted to make change during the civil rights era. They coordinated highly organized educational efforts throughout the nation. Many members felt that they had an obligation to use their gifts, privileges, and membership in the black middle class to help other African Americans. Although educational efforts manifested in myriad ways—including book drives, mobile health units, and the mentoring of young children—they also included efforts to advance civil rights. The BGLOs were creative in their support of civil rights and integration, often using art and theater to make their point. In 1950, for example, the AKAs put together a traveling theater show that promoted interracial understanding entitled “Deep Are the Roots.” In most cities, the other BGLOs came forth in droves to support the AKA’s performance, raising a considerable amount of money for underprivileged children. The AKAs made a point of giving their proceeds to interracial organizations rather than those that perpetuated segregation.41 In 1956, Kappa Alpha Psi fraternity took a bold step, traveling to many black colleges to spread an important message of change. The Kappa leaders reminded young and old that “in their struggle for freedom since the days of slavery many Negroes have been brainwashed. They don’t want freedom. It is up to Kappa Alpha Psi fraternity to help save our people from this disease . . . Negroes must know that to rebel against discrimination means liberty. To submit means slavery. We must be prepared to save the race in order to save ourselves. No man in this room will be free until every Negro and every other mankind is saved.”42 The Kappas were attempting to prompt civil disobedience campaigns on the part of the black college students, in hopes that they would push against the Jim Crow discriminatory policies in the South.43


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Oftentimes, the black sororities took subtle approaches to advancing civil rights. In 1964, for example, members of Delta Sigma Theta joined with the National Council of Jewish Women, the National Council of Negro Women, the Young Women’s Christian Association, and the National Council of Catholic Women to travel south for a project called “Wednesdays in Mississippi.” Through this program, women from the North were trying to close the gap between themselves and women from the South, finding a solution to racial problems plaguing both the state and the country. Although not traditionally activist in nature, these programs were fundamental to making grassroots change by challenging cultural norms. Of note is the fact that the women traveled in biracial teams, visiting rural and urban Mississippi communities.44 Similarly, the women of Alpha Kappa Alpha held interracial meetings throughout the 1960s in major cities to brainstorm about the ways women in the communities could “unlock the door to the power structure and keep it responsive to local needs.”45 Also in 1961, the brothers of Omega Psi Phi hosted Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy at their annual conclave. The occasion provided a venue for the progressive statesman to launch a new fraternity program entitled “The Fraternity in the Field of Human Rights.” With this program, the fraternity aimed to take on many of the key issues of the decade, building on a fifty-year “crusade for freedom and equality of opportunity for all men.”46 The “Human Rights” program put the Omegas in to local neighborhoods, working hands on with young men on issues of equality.47 In 1964, in response to the impending civil rights legislation, the brothers of Alpha Phi Alpha held a series of public meetings in venues across the city of Chicago to educate local citizens. Bennett M. Stewart, a local chapter president, stated, “Although civil rights is the most important topic in our nation, many persons have only a superficial knowledge of the subject.”48 “Our aim is to enhance general understanding of the various titles comprising the civil rights bill now causing the U.S. Senate such great concern.”49 Many BGLOs spent considerable time registering African Americans to vote and educating black communities about the importance of voting. Phi Beta Sigma, in particular, sent groups of brothers into black communities to teach and consult with African Americans on how to conduct effective political campaigns, the ultimate goal being to identify the best black candidates and vote them into office.50 The hard work of the BGLOs paid off nicely. Motivated by many of the successes of the civil rights movement and the signing into law of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, the sisters of Delta Sigma Theta spearheaded a national campaign aimed at eliminating the “damaging effects of racial isolation in America.”51 The theme of the 1969 initiative, “One Nation or Two?” was a challenge to American citizens. The Deltas went so far as to have the theme engraved on pendants to be worn by Delta members across the country. Of course this gesture was merely symbolic and by itself did little to end racism. Determined to push for

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integration, Frankie M. Freeman, the national president of Delta Sigma Theta, told members of the sorority at their annual meeting, “We convene with a heritage of 56 years of community service for which we are proud. But the problems of hungry children and dispirited adults trapped in poverty since birth remain—problems produced by the ugly disease of racism.”52 In many ways, Delta Sigma Theta’s focus on poverty was similar to Martin Luther King Jr.’s shift in later years from a push for desegregation to the stamping out of poverty as the main focus of protest.53 Although the Deltas’ efforts as well as those of other BGLOs in the fight for integration on a national scale helped move the nation forward, we continue to struggle as a country with this issue; and according to some scholars, we are currently in a period of resegregation.54

Financing the Cause of Civil Rights Although conventional wisdom would lead us to believe that African Americans did not have access to capital during the civil rights era, many middle-class members of BGLOs acquired moderate wealth and used it to support the black freedom struggle.55 BGLOs supported black college students fighting for civil rights through their contributions to individual black colleges and the United Negro College Fund (UNCF). For example, in 1958, Zeta Phi Beta gave $1,000 to the UNCF. In the words of Deborah C. Partidge, grand basileus, “These colleges have an important role to play in the development of an integrated education system in our country. We cannot ask others to give if we haven’t given ourselves.”56 In 1957, during the Little Rock Central High School days of the integration battle, the Deltas became more deeply involved.57 Delta vice president Jeanne Noble decided to go to Little Rock to get a firsthand picture of the events playing out in the segregated city—a bold step for BGLO members who typically supported civil rights in a more passive way. When she arrived, she found the young, polite Deltas concerned but also cautious. Most of the young sorority members in Little Rock were teachers, the occupation of almost 90 percent of the Delta membership at the time. They had not in the past participated in overt confrontations but according to Paula Giddings “a good place to start, it was believed, would be to turn the traditional Christmas parties given by the sorority into a fund—and consciousness—raiser for the Little Rock students and Daisy Bates.”58 This strategy worked and the Deltas were able to raise muchneeded funds for direct intervention in the cause of civil rights in Little Rock. BGLOs also gave money more directly to civil rights causes. In the 1960s, the American Council on Human Rights set up an emergency fund to help African American college students who were in dire financial straits due to their participation in the civil rights movement.59 The organization raised $7,500 for the


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four North Carolina A&T University students involved in the Woolworth lunch counter sit-in of 1960. The ACHR also supported freedom riders in Atlanta.60 Likewise, in 1961, the sisters of Delta Sigma Theta pooled their money to provide tuition, room, and board to over seventy high school students who were expelled from their schools in McComb, Mississippi, for “refusing to sign pledges to discontinue demonstrations.”61 The students demonstrated peacefully against the August 30, 1961, arrest and jailing of fifteen-year-old Brenda Travis, one of their classmates at the high school. Local police jailed Ms. Travis for organizing a nonviolent sit-in at the local Greyhound Bus terminal. She was “sentenced to stay in Oakley Training School for Delinquents.”62 To show its outrage and to bring national attention to the incident, the Deltas asked each of its 181 alumnae to “donate either $70, which would provide one student’s tuition for one semester, or $40, which would provide one month’s room and board for one student.”63 Predictably, the white media paid little attention to the efforts of the Deltas. It was left to the black newspapers to cover the sorors’ activities.64 Although individual members of BGLOs were active in the civil rights movement, opening one’s checkbook was a common option for the larger membership of black fraternities and sororities. In 1967, the sisters of Sigma Gamma Rho used their annual boule as an opportunity to fundraise for the victims of the Detroit race riots. For example, they presented Willie Gibson and his family with a check for $500 (Gibson’s family was burned out of their apartment and lost their belongings). They also presented Mayor Cavanaugh a check for $2,000 for the Detroit Emergency Relief Fund, which provided aid to riot victims.65 On another note, the Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity was angered by the position of the Republican candidate for president, Senator Barry Goldwater, against the civil rights bill in 1964. In an effort to put some muscle behind their fight for equality, the brothers contributed $2,500 to the fight for equality, aiding civil rights organizations at the state and federal level.66 Upon receiving the donation, W. Bryon Rumford, a California state legislator and member of Alpha Phi Alpha, said, “I am pleased to know that my fraternity realizes the significance of the struggle for civil rights, and that this struggle affects not only Mississippi but California as well.”67

Internal and External Critique According to the historian Paula Giddings, many of the platitudes and resolutions passed by black fraternities and sororities “did not go very far beyond commendations.”68 Over the course of the nation’s struggle for civil rights for African Americans, BGLOs experienced both internal critique from leaders and members and external critique from black intellectuals. Although difficult to swallow at times, this critique provided a healthy dose of realism and

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enabled the BGLOs to stay focused on their “stated” missions. According to Robert Harris, “BGLOs had suffered from criticism in the press and elsewhere for their excessive social activities, which might have influenced them to engage in serious social reform programs.”69 Harris also points to a 1952 speech by Mordecai Johnson, then president of Howard University, in which Johnson congratulated the Greek organizations in the ACHR for stepping forward. Specifically, Johnson said, “I am overjoyed and grateful that six Greek-letter organizations have come together under the banner of human rights. I was afraid that our sorority and fraternities would follow the usual pattern, become the intellectual elite, unconcerned about the welfare of the people, and by that sign become morally dead.”70 Despite Johnson’s praise, for the most part, the ACHR was a passive organization, relying more on “letter writing, testimony before Congress, meetings with key government officials, and in a few instances, lawsuits to accomplish its objectives.” Like the BGLOs that made up its membership, the ACHR did not “picket, boycott, strike, or sit in.”71 From time to time one of the BGLO leaders would push the members to act and to throw obsession with material trappings to the wayside. For example, in response to the civil rights uproar of the early 1960s, C. V. Troup, the president of Fort Valley State College and the vice president of Phi Beta Sigma, asserted, in front of an all-Greek retreat, that the BGLOs needed to “either declare ourselves purely social organizations which have no concern for social, civic and economic problems, or we must do something about them. We represent a privileged class. Privileges and responsibilities go hand in hand.”72 Troup urged his brothers and sisters to do something about low voter turnout among African Americans, noting the power of the vote, especially among blacks: “Negroes in the South have the voting potential of 5 million but today there are only about 1½ million Negro voters.”73 He also decried the African American’s economic poverty and urged BGLO members to reach back and pull someone up out of poverty: “Poverty forces us to live in slums where disease is more prevalent, and makes it extremely difficult to feed, clothe, and provide medical care for our families. Poverty keeps Negroes easily exploited (just like a football—anybody can kick us around).”74 Troup reminded the BGLO members at the retreat that they had an obligation to be active in the fight for civil rights and should not sit idly by watching their brothers and sisters fight and suffer. Along the same vein, in 1961, Alvin J. McNeil, the national director of education for Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity warned the fraternity’s members that the “current world revolution is testing the leadership of the Negro elite.”75 He continued, “When revolutions occur, and the elite fails to furnish proper leadership, they (the elite) are eventually trampled by the masses and lose their positions.” 76 McNeil put forth a challenge to black Greek-letter organizations to “shoulder the responsibility of leadership because they are the academically superior and


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privileged. Sit-ins, kneel-ins, and stand-ins are warnings that we must provide the sane leadership necessary to solve the many complex problems facing us.”77 McNeil went even further with his challenge to chastise those members of the Greek organizations that merely joined “just to wear a sweater, a pin, or live on your reputation.” Lastly, he reminded the young people that “schooled or unschooled, Negroes must erase lines of demarcation between members of social classes, and charged that those who join fraternities and sororities for other reasons have “missed the whole idea of being a Greek.”78 In the words of critic Lennox Yearwood, fraternities and sororities “provided a symbol of status and prestige to members. Their fundamental attraction . . . was to organize Blacks for social and cultural activities.”79 In 1966, during the fifty-second annual conclave of the Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Paul F. Lawrence (an African American) of the California State Department of Education, told the brothers that the “middle class Negroes must play an important role and use their influence as the link of understanding between Negroes and the White community.”80 Lawrence urged the Sigmas to step up and lead, noting that if every professional Negro would speak up in his or her professional circles for rights within the circle, this would enhance the Negroes’ fight for progress as much as the marches and demonstrations in the streets. When a Negro becomes the best in any field he is in he demonstrates something more effective than any one shot moment like a protest. Demonstrations and protests are essential to our breakthrough, but we need our artisans and professionals to hold all the gains made.81 And, speaking to the burgeoning black power movement, Lawrence said, “Black power is needed. But black power should be the use of your talents and techniques. When all this talent and technique is pooled, gains will be made.”82 The brothers also heard from Lieutenant Governor Glenn M. Anderson at their conclave and, like Lawrence, he urged them to “serve as a link between the white majority and the ghetto.”83 He explained, I believe we are entering a phase of the civil rights movement where the educated, middle-class Negroes must play a far more decisive role than has been true in the past. He must become living evidence—a symbol, of what can be accomplished in our society, and that this can only be achieved under law and order. I think we are going to have to educate not only the uneducated, lowincome Negro but the white community as well. I tell you frankly that many Caucasians, with the best intentions in the world, with a sincere desire to see an end to racism in the United States, have become frustrated and baffled and sometimes fearful. They simply don’t know what to do. They once thought, perhaps naively, that passing civil rights legislation and anti-poverty programs

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would solve the problem. Well it hasn’t. And now they must look to the Negro for intelligent, responsible leadership in this crisis. We have to expose and counterattack the subtle poison of “white backlash”—and those who hope to benefit from it; and we have to teach angry young men in the ghetto that a well-aimed ballot is a greater weapon than a Molotov cocktail.84 Likewise, members of Kappa Alpha Psi were urged by their leadership to remember those in the inner cities, stating, “Many residents in ghettos today have lost their identification with middle class leadership . . . in many urban neighborhoods, blight and poverty has effected [sic] generations of blacks and for many escape and improvement no longer seems likely. The slums have become ingrown and their residents increasingly isolated through lack of education, skills and opportunities.”85 Perhaps the most famous critique comes from E. Franklin Frazier in his seminal book Black Bourgeoisie.86 Despite being a member of Alpha Phi Alpha, Frazier wrote, “The weekly accounts in the Negro press of the activities of Negro ‘society’ are invariably stories of unbridled extravagance. These stories include a catalogue of the jewelry, the gowns, and mink coats worn by the women often accompanied by an estimate of the value of the clothes and jewelry, and the cost of the parties which they attend. One constantly reads of ‘chauffeured’ Cadillac cars in which they ride to parties and of the cost of the homes in which they live. . . . For these top ‘social’ and intellectual leaders, the fraternities and sororities represented their most serious interest in life.” Frustrated with this “black elite,” Frazier wrote that membership in exclusive organizations served to “differentiate the black bourgeoisie from the masses of poorer Negroes.”87 Moreover, according to Frazier, BGLOs “are especially important in molding the outlook of the black bourgeoisie. In the Negro colleges, membership in these organizations indicated that the student has escaped from his working-class background and achieved middle-class status. In their social activities these societies foster all the middle-class values, especially conspicuous consumption.”88 He claimed that Washington, D.C., the birthplace of several BGLOs, was the center of black “society”; it was here that the black professional class was the largest. Howard University stood at its core. According to Frazier, “The Negro ‘society’ which developed in Washington was composed of the upper-class mulattoes who, in fleeing from persecution and discrimination in the South, brought to Washington the social distinctions and color snobbery that had been the basis of their ascendancy in the South.”89 Frazier pointed to a well-documented problem. Prior to World War I, family background and skin complexion were important components of selection for elite black organizations. However, black social mobility and physical migration after the war led to changes in the requirements for membership. “Family background and color snobbishness based upon white ancestry became less


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important for membership among social elites.”90 Instead, occupation and education became the keys to admission. This transition, according to Frazier, brought on a black obsession with income level and professional stature. Frazier paid homage to the volunteer work and philanthropy undertaken by the black elite but points out that in many cases BGLOs spent extravagant amounts of money creating an atmosphere in which to raise money. Frazier gives the following example, which appeared in a February 25, 1954, issue of Jet magazine: “There appeared . . . under the section labeled ‘People Are Talking About,’ the statement that $1,500 was raised by a group of . . . society women who wore over $500,000 worth of furs and gowns.”91 Frazier looked at the philanthropic efforts of BGLOs as a justification for their exclusive nature, which he claimed resulted from their members being shunned by the white middle class.92 That is, since whites shunned elite blacks, the elite blacks then shunned low-income blacks. External critique of the BGLOs was often stinging in nature. Like Frazier, Claude A. Barnett was also critical of BGLOs. Barnett was the president of the Associated Negro Press (ANP), which was the largest black press service in the United States.93 In 1951, Barnett sent a letter to the Zeta Phi Beta grand basileus Nancy McGhee, informing her that he would no longer publicize events that were exclusively social. Barnett wrote similar letters to the presidents of other BGLOs, warning them that the tradition of merely celebrating social accomplishments was over.94 These indictments came on the eve of the nascent civil rights movement as a wake-up call to the BGLO members. Some members heeded the critique, while others continued to see their membership as a pathway to social advance. But the BGLOs as a whole would never be the radical or front-lines fighters as Frazier and the other critics wanted. Individual members played vital roles in the civil rights movement but the organizations themselves were, with few exceptions, usually guarded in their approach. So disgruntled with his brothers in Omega Psi Phi that the famed civil rights leader James Farmer dropped out of the fraternity and created an anti-Greek organization through which to challenge the fraternities and sororities on Wiley College’s campus.95 In Farmer’s own words, “the objective [was] removing fraternities and sororities from Wiley. How could blacks ever unite against the common enemy of racism when they were victims of such fratricidal insanity as that fostered by the fraternities and sororities at Wiley?”96 On occasion BGLOs would jump on the bandwagon of a new theme in the black freedom struggle, but they did not quite measure up to the expectations of the most radical members of the black community. For example, the brothers of Alpha Phi Alpha selected “Black Power” as the theme of their sixty-third annual convention. But, not the black power of Malcom X or Stokely Carmichael—instead they were talking about “Black Power—A Creative Force

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in America’s Complete Development” and their aim was to increase white America’s understanding of the middle-class contributions of blacks across the country.97 Of course, this less-than-revolutionary rhetoric of showcasing the black middle class fed into E. Franklin Frazier’s critique of the BGLOs. Chiding members of BGLOs, Frazier stated, “One Greek letter sorority has established health projects for Negroes in the South and another maintained for a while a lobby in Washington to watch federal legislation affecting Negroes. But the real spirit of these societies is best represented by the Greek letter fraternity which conducts a campaign for ‘Better and Bigger Negro Business.’”98 Some BGLOs, in fact, spoke out against the more radical efforts of the black nationalists. For example, the women of Iota Phi Lambda Sorority welcomed speakers who extolled the virtues of embracing integration rather than supporting separation. In 1969, Clarence Mitchell Jr. addressed the Iotas at an annual luncheon and was received with rounds of applause when he stated, “reject the forces loose in this country which are trying to establish the same racism among us that we have fought against all our lives. We must not let this happen.”99 And some BGLO leaders were angered by the tactics used by civil rights protesters. In 1965, for example, the president of Alpha Phi Alpha, Lionel H. Newsom, also president of Barber-Scotia College in North Carolina, criticized civil rights demonstrators in Chicago who were fighting against school desegregation. Specifically, Newsom stated that the civil rights protestors were “risking victory in the war for human rights.” He also noted that the leaders of daily marches “have lost sight of the basic principles for which they fought.”100 In this case Newsom had more concern with the leader of the Chicago protests—Albert Raby; noting that Chicago’s white leaders, including Mayor Daley, would not react favorably to protesters in their neighborhoods. Of Raby, Newsom said, he “is obviously a man who considers human beings to be machines without feelings and does not realize that these people can be as stubborn as he can.”101 Not all of the BGLOs fell prey to their critics’ words, however. The women of Delta Sigma Theta sometimes put themselves at risk and have engaged in the most direct forms of activism of any of the BGLOs. For example, in 1962, the sisters of Delta Sigma Theta came to the aid of civil rights activists. At first glance their efforts appear in line with the other BGLOs, however, the women’s indirect support led to civil disobedience. In particular, they raised money for black families in Albany, Georgia, “whose means of income have been cut off due to their efforts to obtain the right to vote.”102 They provided money, clothes, and food for children whose parents were active in the civil rights movement. In the city of Albany, over 1,100 citizens were arrested for such “offenses as sitting in the front of the bus, entering a restaurant, and seeking to attend a church service.”103 In Albany, the women of Delta Sigma Theta were caught in the middle of civil rights turmoil. Police officers hit Delta chapter president, Mrs. Marion King, knocking her to the ground, and kicked her when she


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brought food to the hundreds of teenagers who were marching peacefully on the town’s city hall. Mrs. King was six months pregnant at the time and lost the baby as a result of the fall and severe kicking. The Delta Sigma Theta national president, Jeanne Noble, urged her Delta sisters to come to the aid of the blacks in Albany, Georgia, the city where she was reared. She proclaimed, “Albany— where Negroes have worked hard and suffered much to have their humanity recognized . . . is a scene of mass disorder.”104

Conclusion BGLOs have provided ample and much-needed support of civil rights activities throughout their histories. Much of this support has been in the form of verbal proclamation or condemnation, education for the black masses, and monetary support—but rarely direct action or risk-taking protest. Many individual members of BGLOs, such as Martin Luther King Jr., John Lewis, Thurgood Marshall, and Rosa Parks, were leaders in the civil rights movement; however, these people were not acting on behalf of their fraternity or sorority. Of course, the stakes were high during the 1950s and 1960s and oftentimes the sheer terrorism lodged at African Americans and black organizations was enough to stop them in their tracks; still many persisted and resisted. Perhaps the biggest contributions made by the BGLOs were their efforts to fund protest and the black freedom struggle and their very important role in educating the young people who were the brave fighters in our nation’s war for civil rights.

Notes 1. See, for example, Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips, African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005); Annie Lawrence-Brown and Pearl S. White, The Legacy Continues (Chicago: Sigma Gammo Rho, 1994); Marjorie Parker, Alpha Kappa Alpha: In the Eye of the Beholder (Washington, D.C.: Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, 1978); Lullelia Wittarrison, Torchbearers of a Legacy: A History of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc. 1920–1997 (Washington, D.C.: Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, 1998); Paula Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood: Delta Sigma Theta and the Challenge of the Black Sorority Movement (New York: William Morrow, 1988); Herman Dreer, The History of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity: A Brotherhood of Negro College Men, 1911–1939 (Washington, D.C.: Omega Psi Phi Fraternity, 1940); W. S. Savage and L. D. Reddick, Our Cause Speeds On: An Informal History of the Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity (Atlanta: Fuller Press, 1957); John Slade, The Centaur Rising: Iota Phi Theta Fraternity, Inc. (Washington, D.C.: Nations Capital Pub., 1999).

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2. Cynthia Shelton, “We Are What We Do: The National Program of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated. A Post-modern Corporatist Interpretation of African American Women’s Philanthropy” (Ph.D. diss., University of Kentucky, 2003); Marybeth Gasman, “Sisters in Service: A History of Black Sororities and Education,” in Women, Philanthropy, and Education, ed. Andrea Walton (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2004); Walter Kimbrough, Black Greek 101: The Cultures, Customs, and Challenges of Black Greek Fraternities and Sororities (Madison, N.J.: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2003); Bianca Taylor, “Color and Class at HBCUs: The Promulgation of Elitist Attitudes at Black Colleges,” in Historically Black Colleges and Universities: Triumphs, Troubles and Taboos, ed. Marybeth Gasman and Christopher Tudico (New York: Palgrave, 2008). 3. John Naisbitt, “In the Tradition of Black Women’s Clubs: Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority and Civil Rights” (Syracuse University, thesis, 1992); William Crump, The Story of Alpha Kappa Psi (Philadelphia: Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, 1991); Everett Ladd, Negro Political Leadership in the South (New York: Athenaeum, 1969); Charles H. Wesley, The History of Alpha Phi Alpha: A Development in College Life (Chicago: Foundation Publishers, 1961); Carrington Davis, A Brief History of Sigma Pi Phi Fraternity (Xenia, Ohio: Aldine Publishing, 1947); Robert Gill, The Omega Psi Phi Fraternity and the Men Who Made Its History (Washington, D.C.: Omega Psi Phi, 1963); Andre McKenzie, “Fraters: Black Greek-Letter Fraternities at Four Historically Black Colleges, 1920– 1960” (Ph.D. Diss., Teachers College, Columbia University, 1986); Parker, Alpha Kappa Alpha; Pearl S. White, Behind These Doors—A Legacy: The History of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority (Chicago: Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, 1974); Marjorie Parker, Alpha Kappa Alpha: Through the Years (Chicago: Mobium Press, 1990); Linda Elliot, “Black Sororities: The Involvement is Real,” Contact New York 3, no. 6 (1972): 47–48, 69; H. Canady, “Black Women Leaders: The Case for Delta Sigma Theta,” Urban League Review 1, no. 1 (1985), 92–95; Ola Adams, Zeta Phi Beta: 1920–1965 (Washington, D.C.: Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, 1965); Dreer, The History of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity; Joseph Ferry, The History of African American Civic Organizations (Philadelphia: Chelsea House Publishers, 2003); Lawrence-Brown and White, The Legacy Continues; Savage and Reddick, Our Cause Speeds On; Welton Scott, History of Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity (Savannah, Ga.: Savannah State College, 1970); Mary Vroman, Shaped to Its Purpose: Delta Sigma Theta, the First Fifty Years (New York: Random House, 1964); Carroll Harris, “The Social Activism of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity Incorporated, 1911–1957” (Master’s thesis, Howard University, 1992); Herbert King, “The Philosophy and Aims of Alpha Phi Alpha, the First Fraternity of Black College Men: A Catalyst for Socio-economic and Educational Progress, 1906– 1970” (Ed.D. Diss., University of Sarasota, 1977); Deborah Whaley, “The Cultural and Counterpublic Sphere Work of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority” (Ph.D. Diss., University of Kansas, 2002); Helen G. Edmonds, “The History of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority,” unpublished manuscript, 1954. 4. Gasman, “Sisters in Service”; Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood. 5. Cornel West, “The Paradox of the Afro-American Rebellion,” Social Text 9/10 (Spring–Summer 1984): 44–58; Marybeth Gasman, Envisioning Black Colleges: A History of the United Negro College Fund (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2007). 6. Charles U. Smith, “The Sit-Ins and the New Negro Student,” in Student Unrest on Historically Black Campuses, ed. Charles U. Smith (Tallahassee: Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University, 1994). 7. Smith, “The Sit-Ins and the New Negro Student,” xi.


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8. Mary L. Dudziak, Cold War Civil Rights: Race and the Image of American Democracy (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000); Thomas Borstelmann, The Cold War and the Color Line (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2001); and John D. Skrentny, “The Effect of the Cold War on African-American Civil Rights, 1945–1968,” Theory and Society 27, no. 2 (April 1998): 237–85. 9. See also, Melvyn P. Leffler, “The Cold War: What Do ‘We Now Know,’” American Historical Review 104, no. 2 (1999): 501–24; Jonathan Rosenberg and Zachary Karabell, Kennedy, Johnson, and the Quest for Justice (New York: W. W. Norton, 2003); Gary Gerstle, American Crucible: Race and Nation in the Twentieth Century (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2001). 10. Patricia Gurin and Edgar Epps, Black Consciousness, Identity, and Achievement (San Francisco: John Wiley & Sons, 1975). Of course, black students at predominantly white institutions also had these concerns. See Joy A. Williamson, Black Power on Campus (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2003). 11. Gurin and Epps, Black Consciousness. 12. Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood; Brown et al., African American Fraternities and Sororities. 13. “16 AKA Directors Hold Meeting in Motor City,” Chicago Defender, January 13, 1945, 14. 14. “Asks Top Jobs for Negroes in Vets Administration,” Chicago Defender, January 27, 1945, 3. See Alpha Kappa Alpha papers for additional stories and memos on this topic, Moorland-Spingarn Collection, Howard University, Washington, D.C. (herein cited as AKA papers). 15. “Asks Top Jobs for Negroes in Vets Administration,” Chicago Defender, January 27, 1945, 3; AKA papers. 16. “Mr. Civil Rights Hailed,” New York Times, November 25, 1952, 20. 17. Ibid. 18. John Egerton, Speak Now Against the Day: The Generation before the Civil Rights Movement in the South (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1995). 19. Robert L. Harris Jr., “Lobbying Congress for Civil Rights: The American Council on Human Rights, 1948–1963,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities, ed. Brown et al. 20. Harris Jr., “Lobbying Congress for Civil Rights,” 211. See also “Significance of Joint Action by Fraternities and Sororities,” December 29, 1952, Henry Arthur Callis Papers, Moorland-Spingarn Research Center, Howard University, and Charles H. Wesley, Henry Arthur Cassis: Life and Legacy (Chicago: Foundation Publishers, 1977). 21. Ivy Leaf, February–March 1964, 40, 1, Ivy Leaf on microfilm, ISBN 1-55655-773-6. 22. Harris Jr., “Lobbying Congress for Civil Rights,” 224. 23. Ibid. 24. Ibid., 216. 25. “U.N. Charter Hit at Senate Hearing,” New York Times, April 12, 1953, 39. “Negro Fraternal Groups Meet,” New York Times, December 27, 1952, 11. 26. Harris Jr., “Lobbying Congress for Civil Rights.” 27. Ibid., 221. 28. For discussions of gender and race, see Johnnetta Betsch Cole and Beverly GuySheftal, Gender Talk: The Struggle for Women’s Equality in African American Communities (New York: Random House, 2003); Marybeth Gasman, “A Historiography of Gender and Black Colleges,” American Education Research Journal 40, no. 3 (2007); Florence Bonner,

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“Addressing Gender Issues in the Historically Black College and University Community: A Challenge and Call to Action,” Journal of Negro Education 70, no. 3 (Summer 2001): 176–91. 29. Cole and Guy-Sheftal, Gender Talk. Other examples of texts that pertain to women in the civil rights movement include Vickie Crawford, Jacqueline Rouse, and Barbara Woods, Women in the Civil Rights Movement: Trailblazers and Torchbearers, 1941–1965 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993), and Bettye Collier-Thomas and V. P. Franklin, eds., Sisters in the Struggle: African-American Women in the Civil Rights–Black Power Movement (New York: New York University Press, 2001). 30. Crump, The Story of Kappa Alpha Psi. 31. “Ask Both Parties to Back Rights,” Daily Defender, August 14, 1956, 7. 32. “President Ike’s Committee Hears Portion Deltas 5-Point Program,” Daily Defender, January 27, 1958, 15. See also, 1958 issues of the Delta Journal and Harris Jr., “Lobbying Congress for Civil Rights” for a discussion of this matter. 33. “Sigma Men Take Over Chicago,” Daily Defender, December 31, 1958, 4. 34. “LBJ, King Cited at Sorority Conference,” Daily Defender, August 16, 1965, 9. 35. “Sigmas Rap Nixon’s Do Nothing for Blacks,” Chicago Defender, September 27, 1969, 5. 36. “Alpha Phi Fraternity stand on racism,” Daily Defender, November 16, 1971, 18. See Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Chapter Records, 1910–2005, Cornell University. 37. “Angry Deltas Slap Nixon,” Daily Defender, August 23, 1971, 13. 38. Ibid. 39. “Sigmas to assess black rights loss,” Daily Defender, October 9, 1973, 9. 40. Ibid. See also 1973 Proceedings, Moorland-Spingarn Library, Howard University. 41. “AKA’s in Race Relations Role, Present Famed Play,” Chicago Defender, January 21, 1950, 9. See also 1950 issues of Ivy Leaf, on microfilm. 42. “Kappa Leaders Call ’56 Year of Negro Decision,” Daily Defender, April 11, 1956, 8. 43. Crump, The Story of Kappa Alpha Psi. 44. “Mississippi Visit Helps in Accord,” New York Times, September 3, 1964, 7. See Delta Journal as well. 45. “Black Women Hold Power Pow Wow,” Chicago Defender, October 11, 1969, 22. 46. “Kennedy, Weaver to Speak at Omega Psi Phi Conclave,” Daily Defender, August 10, 1961, 19; “Omegas Pledge to Keep Up Fight for Freedom,” Daily Defender, August 28, 1961, 7. 47. Gill, The Omega Psi Phi Fraternity. 48. Alpha Phi Alpha Chapter Records, 1910–2005, Cornell University. 49. “Alphas Set Rights Talk,” Chicago Defender, June 13, 1964, 3. 50. “Sigmas Rap Nixon’s Do Nothing for Blacks,” Chicago Defender, September 27, 1969, 5. 51. “One Nation or Two: Black Sorority Campaign,” Chicago Defender, May 31, 1969, 18. 52. Ibid. 53. David Garrow, Bearing the Cross: Martin Luther King Jr. and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (New York: HarperCollins, 2004). 54. Gary Orfield and John Yun, Re-segregation in American Schools, report of the Civil Rights Project at the University of California, Los Angeles.


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55. Marybeth Gasman and Katherine Sedgwick, eds., Uplifting a People: African American Philanthropy and Education (New York: Peter Lang, 2005). 56. “Zetas Give $1,000 to UNCF Appeal,” Chicago Defender, May 24, 1958, 15. 57. Georgia Dortch-Tiger, “Central High Thrown in National Spotlight as it Faces Integration,” The Tiger [Little Rock Central High School Newspaper], September 19, 1957. 58. Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood, 244. 59. Harris Jr., “Lobbying Congress for Civil Rights.” 60. Ibid. 61. “Deltas Open Drive to Aid Freedom Fighters,” Daily Defender, December 26, 1961, 6. 62. Ibid. 63. Ibid. 64. Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood. 65. “Sigma Sorority Aids Detroit Riot Victims,” Daily Defender, September 6, 1967, 22. 66. “Alphas Hit Barry, Give $2500 to Housing Fight,” Chicago Defender, September 5, 1964, 1. See Alpha Phi Alpha Chapter Records, 1910–2005, Cornell University. 67. Ibid. 68. Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood, 248. 69. Harris Jr., “Lobbying Congress for Civil Rights,” 219. 70. See Harris Jr., “Lobbying Congress for Civil Rights”; see also American Council on Human Rights Minutes of Board of Director’s Meetings, October 20, 1951, AKA Papers. 71. The American Council on Human Rights: An Evaluation (Washington, D.C.: American Council on Human Rights, 1954). 72. “Urge Negro Frats Unite for Progress,” Chicago Defender, January 23, 1960, 1. 73. Ibid. 74. Ibid. 75. “Says ‘Masses’ Will Trample Negro Elite. Current Problems Need Sane Guidance,” Chicago Defender, January 28, 1961, 21. 76. Ibid. 77. Ibid. 78. Ibid. 79. Lennox Yearwood, “National Afro-American Organizations in Urban Communities,” Journal of Black Studies 8, no. 4 (June 1978): 423–38. 80. “Negro Middle Class Urged to Join Movement,” Chicago Defender, September 3, 1966, 36. 81. Ibid. 82. Ibid. 83. Ibid. 84. Ibid. 85. “Leaders Give Alpha Delegates Insight on Race Problems,” Chicago Defender, August 15, 1970, 25. 86. E. Franklin Frazier, Black Bourgeoisie (Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1957). 87. Ibid., 195. 88. Ibid., 94. 89. Ibid., 198.

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90. Lawrence Ross, The Divine Nine: The History of African American Fraternities and Sororities (New York: Kensington, 2001). 91. Frazier, Black Bourgeoisie, 206. 92. Ibid. 93. Claude A. Barnett Papers, W. E. B. Du Bois Institute, Harvard University. 94. See folders 332–33, series G, Philanthropic and Social Organizations, 1925–1966, Claude A. Barnett Papers, Chicago Historical Society, Chicago, Illinois. 95. James Farmer’s Lay Bare the Heart: An Autobiography of the Civil Rights Movement (New York: Arbor House Press, 1985). 96. Ibid., 125. 97. “Alphas Confab to View ‘Black Power,’” Chicago Defender, June 21, 1969, 5. Alpha Phi Alpha Chapter Records, 1910–2005, Cornell University. 98. Frazier, Black Bourgeoisie, 95. 99. “At Sorority Convention, NAACP Head Warns Blacks to Reject Reverse Racism,” Chicago Defender, August 16, 1969, 19. 100. “Negro Educator Assails Picketing,” New York Times, August 11, 1965, 20. 101. Ibid., 20. 102. “Deltas Aid Georgia Civil Rights Victims,” Daily Defender, December 24, 1962, 13. 103. Ibid. 104. Ibid.

Chapter Two Commentary Rochelle Parks-Yancy

BGLO’s made contributions and experienced contradictions during the height of the civil rights movement. Certainly, in terms of increasing the beliefs in black solidarity (although not necessarily racial exclusion), promotion of economic empowerment and other community service activities designed to improve the welfare of African Americans were the hallmark of their contributions. Accordingly, this chapter addresses how highlighting of social activities was also a regular part of public communiqués about those organizations. Those social activities demonstrated how other African Americans, as well as whites, had their own high-brow culture and were not simply the downtrodden masses, criminals, or buffoons that were so often the only images that blacks saw of themselves, particularly in white media outlets. Additionally, this chapter observes the seeming contradiction between BGLO’s promotion of middle-class values as means for blacks to improve themselves socioeconomically and their adoption of said values that were fomented by the same white America that sought to oppress blacks’ civil rights. In other words, how could BGLO’s fight racism while holding on to the same value systems as the oppressors’ themselves? If they were unwilling to be “on the front lines” of the civil rights movement, how could they claim to support the movement at all? Nevertheless, some BGLOs were, indeed on the front lines, at great risk of severe injury and/or death. And while many BGLOs were not willing to serve at the visible forefront of the struggles they were actively involved in the political scene to enact changes and, importantly, serve as teachers of the students who were more vociferous in their protests for change. It is also noteworthy that the contribution of women to these struggles were not publicly acknowledged nearly to the degree as were the men’s contributions, suggesting that while racism was intolerable to many of the BGLO male (and female) leaders, sexism was viewed as less heinous an act. 47

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In sum, Marybeth Gasman provides a compelling account of the contributions and contradictions of BGLOs during the civil rights movement. In so doing, Dr. Gasman frames the beginning of a scholarly and practitioner discourse on the role of BGLOs today, given the global economy, the increase in numbers of educated blacks, and the recent election of an African American president.

3. Alpha Kappa Alpha, Community, and Professionalism Constructing the Significance of BGLO Involvement in the Life of Loraine Richardson Green Yolanda Y. Johnson

Written works about black Greek-letter organizations (BGLOs) often discuss the success of their members. In addition, BGLOs invite prominent members of society to join their prospective societies as honorary members. For example, Coretta Scott King is an honorary member of Alpha Kappa Alpha. Nevertheless, there is a considerable dearth of information on how BGLOs— specifically, Alpha Kappa Alpha—directly affected the character, ideology, and success of individual members. Additionally, there is little empirical research about the interconnectivity between BGLO membership, professionalism, and community activism. This chapter examines the life of Loraine R. Green, Alpha Kappa Alpha’s second national president, in order to illuminate the synergistic relationship described above. While there are numerous accounts of negative outcomes of BGLO involvement, such as the myriad hazing incidents chronicled, few empirical studies specifically link BGLO involvement to the construction of members’ prominence, career, and/or moral choices. In this paper, I systematically analyze the life of Loraine R. Green to ascertain the connectivity between her Alpha Kappa Alpha affiliation, the realization of her unique sociology, as well as her life’s passion and ultimate career as a community servant and activist. Green became president of AKA in 1919, the same year that she received her M.A. from the University of Chicago (UC),1 and served as president through 1923.2 Green was an influential president and the AKA influenced Green as well. For example, under Green’s lead, national circulation of the Ivy Leaf magazine was established, scholarship programs were implemented, and vocation programs set up. She continued attending UC in the sociology department in 49

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pursuit of her Ph.D. while simultaneously working with the Chicago Urban League.3 Consequently, her leadership of AKA was greatly influenced by her sociological and volunteerist endeavors. She also practiced pragmatic feminism.4 For example, she seemed at odds with many goals of the male-dominated African American community in Chicago, yet she clearly advocated patriarchal values in her personal life. Therefore, I consider how her UC training as a pragmatist and her AKA affiliation gave her a unique perspective. Specifically, I ask whether Green’s continued relationship with these organizations allowed her to negotiate conflicting beliefs and strategies between groups? Furthermore, did membership in various organizations create a synthesis of ideals focused on the elevation of blacks through educational advocacy? In keeping with the rich tradition of Green’s epistemological reference point, I reconstruct her life’s work, emphasizing her understanding of liberal values, education, and democracy. The remainder of this chapter is arranged as follows: The first section is devoted to Green’s sociology. In specific, her paradigm of feminist pragmatism. Moreover, since methodologies and theories are intimately connected, this section explicates one of the methods used in conjunction with feminist pragmatism. The second section reviews the literature on Green in four stages: (1) her association with AKA, (2) her employment with the Chicago Board of Education, (3) her affiliation with the Chicago School of Sociology (CSS), and (4) her volunteer work and activism in the community. In the third and final section, the connectivity between Green’s AKA affiliation, her sociology, and her many roles in community activism to include her position on the Chicago public school board are illuminated.

Sociobiography: A Feminist Pragmatism Method The prominent social theorist Mary Jo Deegan positions Green’s ideological reference within feminist pragmatism.5 According to Deegan, feminist pragmatism is “an American theory uniting liberal values and a belief in a rational public with a cooperative, nurturing, and liberation model of the self, the other, and the community.6 Of course, the theory’s roots lay in pragmatism proper. Pragmatism was developed by William James and rearticulated by John Dewey, and later amended by Dewey’s protégés. A few of the fundamental tenets of pragmatism follow: There is a middle ground between philosophic dualisms (facts versus values), research conclusions are not held as absolute truths, human inquiry is parallel with scientific inquiry, practical empiricism is endorsed, and there is a preference for action, rather than philosophizing.7 Contemporary proponents of pragmatism embrace these views. For example, Cornel West views pragmatism as a practical bridge from mindless

BGLO in the Life of Loraine Richardson Green

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philosophizing to a philosophy that engages real and current needs.8 In that vein, the feminist philosopher Charlene Seigfried rejects the notion of philosophizing as an intellectual game that has no means to an end. Instead, she endorses a pragmatic approach to feminist philosophy.9 Similarly, although Richard Rorty does not fit in the line of Chicago or feminist pragmatism, he contends feminists could use pragmatism to construct a new female reality via a new future identity.10 Nevertheless, he has been criticized by Seigfried and other feminists for suggesting that reinventing the female identity is the only usefulness that pragmatism has for feminist philosophy as well as the mere implication that there is a need to reinvent the female identity. Deegan does not engage in the conversation of the usefulness of pragmatism to feminist philosophy. Rather, she defines an alternative pragmatism promulgated by Jane Addams, feminist pragmatism. Feminist pragmatism is a blend of cultural feminism (the belief in women’s values as superior to the values of men) and critical pragmatism (which emphasizes liberal values, education, and democracy as a means to secure social equality).11 Unlike Addams, Green appreciated the value system of both men and women as evidenced by her decision to put her husband’s career before her own. Nevertheless, like Addams, Green operated within traditional women’s spaces in community activism, the development of her sociology, and her involvement in Alpha Kappa Alpha. Cornel West posits that John Dewey put pragmatism on a global stage while simultaneously Americanizing history.12 I contend that Adams’s feminist pragmatism put pragmatism on a co-ed stage and to some degree feminized or at the least added feminist rhetoric to American history. Although Addams and other Hull-House sociologists engaged in research about African Americans, just as Dewey Americanized the research question, here, I submit that Green African Americanized the agenda (her agenda) of feminist pragmatism. Green’s unique brand of feminist pragmatism furthers knowledge in this area by putting pragmatism on a diverse stage as well as diversifying the telling of sociological history. Consistent with the general characteristics of pragmatism listed earlier, feminist pragmatism offers precise pathways for making methodological choices.13 An area of concentration within feminist pragmatism is the qualitative method of “sociobiography,” which I employ in this study.14 Sociobiography is a case method, life-history method that begins with the dynamics of culture.15 Since it does not hold the life of the individual distinct from the groups that influence the individual, it also illuminates the time in which the individual lived.16 Judy Long first considered this method as a viable sociological method in her study of women’s lives. In regard to the biography, she stated, “the sociological perspective is the only one that links the contingency of the individual behavior . . . to the incentive structures that surround her.”17 Here, I use the sociobiography of Green to illuminate the influence particular group associations have on

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individual members, more specifically, I use Green’s biography to explicate the social role of the early-twentieth-century AKA soror. Very little academic research about Loraine Green exists, making it necessary to reconstruct her story. Thus, in the construction of her biography I used a triangulated methodology. For example, I analyzed personal interviews Professor Deegan conducted with Green, Green’s M.A. thesis, her college transcripts, newspaper articles, archival data analysis, and other personal interviews.18 The crux of my research design involves the use of electronic archives; in particular, I examine an extensive library of newspaper articles about Green. Below, I discuss the usefulness of each data source. There is much information in school records. For example, I used a copy of Oliver Cox’s official college transcripts to determine the influence of the Chicago School on the Marriageable Male theory that established Cox’s theory as a precursor to William J. Wilson’s Marriageable Male Pool Index (MMPI).19 Similarly, I analyzed Green’s college transcripts to search for potential links between her AKA affiliation, her life’s work, the CSS, and sociology in general. A potential weakness to this method is that taking a class does not connote espousal of the theories posited in the class. For example, Cox studied race relations with Park and later accused Park of not following scientific protocol in his appraisal of race.20 Without the benefit of a literature authored by Green to substantiate her acceptance or nonacceptance of her mentors’ positions, it was necessary to fill in the information in her official records to her own sociology via an alternative source. In this case, I used personal interviews of Green’s family members, associates, and antagonists to help interpret her position. There are limitless examples of researchers using personal accounts of surviving intimate contacts of their subjects to reconstruct the lives, philosophies, and works of research subjects. This method was used in much of the literature that directly links Green to the CSS. For example, both Deegan in her account of the evolution of Hull House and Chicago schools of race relations and Baldwin in his account of black Chicago sociologists’ work, engaged in this type of fieldwork. Hunter conducted personal interviews in his account of Cox’s sociology.21 I also used personal interviews in my treatise on Cox.22 After identifying living family members and friends of Green via public records (specifically, newspaper obituaries). I made initial contact with these individuals (hereafter referred to as participants) by phone. I informed the participants of my intent to write Green into formal Sociology history, and enlisted their assistance by way of interview. To maintain ethical integrity, I also notified the participants that their cooperation was strictly voluntary and gave them the option to maintain confidentiality. In addition, I outlined in the informed consent form how their confidentiality will be maintained. I conducted the interviews in various locations of the participants’ choice, including the business


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office of one participant and a public library. I conducted individual face-toface conversational interviews with each participant. I took notes on and transcribed each interview. Although Deegan established that Green was a sociologist, this will be the first scholarly treatise on Green’s life and career.23 Consequently, I relied heavily on nonsynthesized data found in Green’s official school records. Nevertheless, encountering participants with poor and/or selective memory weakens the reliability of the information collected.24 Thus, I used newspaper accounts for evaluation and to provide a broader analysis of the events in question. I considered the entire population of over three hundred articles in the ProQuest electronic database of Historical Newspapers, including the Chicago Tribune and the Chicago Defender (1880–present) that reference Green to reconstruct her life as it relates to her AKA participation and sociology. To avoid selections bias, I used the entire population, rather than random or some other selection process. Still, there are other potential weaknesses in using newspapers as a key data source. For example, newspapers often commit selection bias in events they choose to report.25 Additionally, reporters may commit description bias by using erroneous information.26 To combat the effects of the potential bias errors I incorporated a system of redundancy as well as triangulation via the use of two main newspaper sources with conflicting views. Additionally, I categorized the articles by source topic (i.e., community relations, AKA involvement, and sociology/UC). Finally, other complexities of archival methods remain the employment of presentism as well as diachronic and synchronic reliability issues.27 For the present research, since the data will be interpreted and there is no test or experiment, diachronic reliability would only present a problem in the form of correctly interpreting the perspective of the past. Similarly, for this research, synchronic reliability depends upon the perspective of the author. For example, any outcome of Green’s life could be attributed to her sociology, AKA involvement, sociocultural status, or family background. In other words, although each variable in her life is distinct, the outcome produced is the same.

The History of Alpha Kappa Alpha International, Incorporated AKA was founded in 1908 on the campus of Howard University, in Washington, D.C., by nine seniors. The title “Alpha Kappa Alpha” was chosen because they are the first Greek letters of the three Greek words of their motto: “by culture and by merit.” The organization remained a local entity until 1913. An insurrection from within the organization prompted members to pursue incorporation,

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when in autumn of 1912 their president, Myra Davis, led a coup to reorganize the sorority, which included a plan to change the name and fundamental purpose of the society.28 Davis envisioned an organization that would take an active role in the issues of the day rather than serve as merely a club to meet and form bonds with like-minded students.29 The social issue of the day that fueled the passions of dissenters was the women’s suffrage movement. Additionally, the rebel group comprised of the majority of AKA’s members and all of its younger undergraduate members sought incorporation, thus nationalization of the group.30 Although all twenty-two undergraduate members of AKA resigned their memberships to form Delta Sigma Theta, the coup ultimately strengthened AKA, as it forced Nellie Quander to expand, charter, and incorporate AKA as well.31 It is important to note, however, although Delta Sigma Theta members envisioned incorporation first, AKA achieved it first. In fact, AKA was the first black Greek organization, male or female, to incorporate.32 Subsequently AKA became a national organization and opened the door for its second president, Loraine R. Green.

The Green Presidency Years: The Making of a BGLO Leader Green became president of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated, in 1919, the same year she received her M.A. from UC and served through 1923.33 Until recently, Green’s presidency was summed up as the president who instituted the Ivy Leaf magazine. However, Green was a very influential president who also established scholarship and vocation programs.34 A closer look at Green’s presidency reveals that she financed and typed the first edition and ensured its sustainability by seeking out its first publisher, R. R. Donnelly Brothers.35 In addition to pioneering what would become the main vein of the organization (membership), Green produced greater growth in AKA than did any previous or successive president. In fact she and the other contributors to the first Ivy Leaf envisioned a global AKA. Unlike many other BGLO members, Green did not spend most of her time with other BGLO members.36 She continued attending UC in the sociology department in pursuit of her Ph.D., while working with the Chicago Urban League.37 Consequently, her leadership of AKA reflected these facets of her life. An example of her leadership is seen in Green’s address in the Ivy Leaf when she argued that improving the social status of African Americans and educational proficiency in the African American community were the goals of the organization.38 The statement is also an early revelation of her chosen sociological and community activist paradigm as education and democracy are the


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cornerstones of pragmatic feminism. Green focused the agenda of that school of thought on the African American community. Her actions within AKA were even more indicative of her life view.

Chronicled Activities of Green in the Organization and Her Subsequent Honors Green remained very active within the sorority after her tenure as president ended. For example, in 1925 Green and her husband attended their respective Greek organization annual meetings in different cities. Green went to New York to attend an AKA meeting and her husband went to St. Louis to attend the Kappa Alpha Psi meeting.39 The organization also continued to recognize Green’s efforts within and outside the Ivy Leaves. In January 1932 Green was given honorable mention for her continued work on the Ph.D. at AKA’s annual meetings held in Cincinnati, Ohio.40 The organization bestowed an even greater honor upon Green when they located their headquarters on Loraine Green Street in Chicago, Illinois.41 Following in the tradition of many regional meetings, the Beta Beta Omega Chapter of AKA in Charleston, Virginia, honored Green at their Founders’ Day celebration. The meeting also hosted an NAACP meeting of which Green was the guest speaker representing the NAACP.42 Green’s role was not limited to honors and speaking engagements. In keeping with AKA’s political activism stance, Green also attended the nonpartisan lobby the organization held for Mississippi health care.43 Her political involvement did not begin or end with community issues; Green was very outspoken within the ranks of AKA as well. She attended an AKA meeting in Chicago in which the first vice basileus spoke. The meeting was held to initiate new procedures in the organization that would transcend those of a mere social club. Green stressed that the organization must begin to act as it talked. Green stated that looking good on paper is not nearly enough.44 Green’s attendance at the fourteenth annual regional conference in Carbondale, Illinois, was indicative of her reluctance to miss opportunities to speak at AKA conferences.45 Nevertheless, she did miss the fiftieth anniversary celebration among very few others. In the following letter, she expressed her deep sorrow and regret for not being able to attend a boule as late as 1994 when she was 104 years old: My Dear Soror Mary: I want so much to be there with you. I can’t remember how long it has been since I missed a Boule. You are my life blood and my heart will be with you. I wish for you the best Session we have ever had and for each soror joy and happiness. With much love, Second Supreme Basileus.46

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Indeed, AKA was one of Green’s life forces, and she was sustenance to the organization as well. She attended numerous Founders’ Day celebrations. In 1953 she was the historian for the organization’s Beta and Theta chapters’ Founders’ Day celebration.47 At eighty-seven, she attended the Sixty-seventh Founders’ Day anniversary of the same chapters. Five months later, Green was chosen as woman of the year by the Theta Omega chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha.48 As seen in her many accomplishments and accolades within AKA, Green’s core beliefs benefited the sorority. Nevertheless, her paradigmatic-driven actions eventually caused her to be loathed within the greater African American community when she sought to serve as a member of the Chicago School Board (CSB). Still, AKA and many of its members stood by Green during the tumultuous years in which she was a member of CSB. In fact, at one point, Green was honored by AKA for her reappointment to the board.49 In the following sections I explicate Green’s controversial role on the board as well as infuse her sociology into her contentious stance on the issue of the day, busing.

Standing in Her Integrity: The Busing Issue Although Green did not teach during her tenure as an AKA soror, and though neither of her degrees was a teaching degree, she (like the original nine AKA sorors) found her professional niche in education. In fact, Green’s involvement in the Chicago education system positioned her to become the first African American member of the CSB.50 Green’s period in office as a CSB member lasted for fifteen years during the height of the civil rights movement. This reign would become part of Green’s legacy and today offers a glimpse into her sociological principles. Green taught elementary school two years in Kansas City before moving to Chicago; yet, she did not intend to become a professional educator. In fact, she once proclaimed that she was a professional housewife. Her nephew, Frank Vincent, asserted that Green chose sociology as a discipline only after inquiring about how she could best serve her husband. In addition, Vincent attests that Green eventually ended her pursuit of the Ph.D. degree because she thought that she overshadowed her husband’s celebrity.51 As late as 1959, she received the “Housewife of The Year” award from Chicago’s Housewife Association.52 Nevertheless, she eventually followed in the footsteps of Alpha Kappa Alpha’s first members in the realm of education.53 She began as a volunteer in 1944 speaking at a PTA meeting on the subject “A World We Want to Live In.”54 She continued to speak at various CSB functions on various subjects. In 1954 Green spoke to Bardwell’s PTA. The title of her speech was “Living Together: What Do We Mean by Brotherhood?”55 The


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speech title served as an indication of Green’s ideology of race consciousness as well as a precursor to her eventual stance on the school busing issue. Green’s speaking flair was so great that her husband, Judge Wendell Green, was often invited to be the guest speaker at events as a ploy to have her speak.56 Yet, it was her husband’s prominence, having been an assistant public defender, civil service commissioner, and Chicago’s first African American circuit court judge, that ingratiated her with the political fabric in Chicago as well as with the school board.57 In fact, the noted historian Timuel Black suggests that Judge Green’s conservatism was integral in the polity’s decision to court and groom Loraine Green for the school board position.58 He further asserts that the polity well understood that the brewing civil rights movement would soon affect Chicago. Choosing Green as Chicago’s first black school board member integrated the board as well as ensured that its black member shared similar political views with the current political machine.59 When the board faced the issue of integration, she became a key part of the committee that voted on the human relations policy: It involves belief on the rights of man and our attitude towards fellow human beings. We teach for the purpose of developing behaviors that are exemplary in both personal and group living, in a representative society where responsibility and duties are corollaries of privileges and rights, and respect for the worth and dignity of the individual is fundamental.60 The statement sounds like the board was preparing to serve the black community. However, the CSB’s policy would go on to ignore the rights of a multitude of individuals from the black community. Nevertheless, the alternative policy of forced integration via busing eventually served as a precursor to Massey and Denton’s theme of “American Apartheid,” in that only the black community was negatively affected by both policies.61 Green was caught in a quagmire. On the one hand, she deeply valued racial pride and a positive race consciousness in the black community.62 On the other hand, various members within the black community did not take pride in the manner in which Green envisioned school integration. Green wanted the board to provide quality schools in the black neighborhoods,63 while various black communities wanted immediate quality education via busing its youth to underpopulated white schools.64 She struck out against many of the dominant wishes within the black community. Although Green disapproved of the mobile classrooms that were put on nearly every corner in black neighborhoods (the boards only attempt to lessen overcrowded conditions of the black schools), she consistently voted against busing measures.65 In addition, she resisted every attempt of the community to oust Benjamin Willis, the CSB’s director for whom

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the mobile classrooms were nicknamed “Willis Wagons.” Finally, black teachers were guaranteed the right to transfer to all-white schools, but many were reluctant because they feared reprisal.66 Green suggested that an authority figure get individual cases of teachers who would like to change schools, but feel they would be harassed, and ensure them of their security.67 On the surface, one would think that Green was working against various black communities. In fact, members of the Negro American Labor Council claimed that “she is the type of Black that allies with the white power structure and helps maintain systems such as Jim Crow.”68 Green was also picketed by the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People for the conflicting stance that she took in school integration issues.69 In addition, her haste to aid black teachers could be construed as Green protecting the elite class and her fellow sorors’ ways of life. However, a closer look into her worldview—her sociology if you will—reveals an alternative assessment of her choices.

Sociology Green’s choices as a CSB member may have been a direct reflection of her sociological training.70 Green was trained and mentored by Albion W. Small (University of Chicago, 1930), the first chair of the sociology department at UC.71 She joined the Ph.D. program at the insistence of Robert E. Park and Earnest W. Burgess, two of the Chicago School of Sociology’s most renowned professors. Green’s relationship with the most influential members of the Chicago School was unique. She and Park were friends.72 She was good friends with Burgess and his sister spoke at her funeral.73 She adored Burgess and Park, and they seemed to adore her.74 This mix of personal and professional relationship between Green and her mentors may have created a unique sociological outlook in Green. For example, their theories of race relations (in particular, Park’s assimilation theory, explicated below) may have become a hegemonic ideological reality for her, rather than a set of theories. Park posits that social distance is the level of intimacy experienced between diverse racial groups or the etiquette of knowing one’s group’s place in the social order. Additionally, compromised social distance etiquette or conflict between groups for space and life’s rewards disturb the moral order.75 Park’s race relations treatise addresses interactions between racial groups. However, I submit that Green’s actions seem to align with his theory, but within groups with class as the object of conflict.76


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Whether or not Green exercised Park’s assimilation theory of race relations, race relations did not encapsulate Green’s sociology. This precept can be examined using the busing issue as well. For example, a major tenet of pragmatism is finding a middle ground between philosophic dualisms (i.e., subjectivism versus objectivism and facts versus values).77 Green waffled between Booker T. Washington’s notion of separate but equal education and W. E. B. Dubois’s conception of providing for a “Talented Tenth.” Ironically, such a balancing act supports another principle of pragmatism; research conclusions are not viewed as absolute truths.78 The pragmatism standard most notably present in the busing issue is that action is preferred to philosophizing.79 Though she was a dynamic speaker, Green never tried to persuade or pacify the masses. Additionally, unlike her foes, Green did not attempt to agitate the opposition. Subsequently, she neither offered an explanation nor apologized for her actions, though this incensed many blacks in Chicago as well as around the nation. In keeping with that tradition, rather than present my truth, I merely present the facts of both sides of the argument. At first glance, Green does not seem to harbor the belief that women’s values are superior to those of men. After all, she gave up her career to support her husband’s and volunteered in women’s spaces. Yet, she stood toe to toe in opposition to a male-dominated civil rights movement.80 She also sought social equality via education. Future research will have to determine the reason that she leaned the way that she did in the busing issue, but Green worked tirelessly for the CSB. In fact at the age of seventy-six she was inducted into the Senior Citizens Hall of Fame and received a gold pin for her service with the CSB past the age of retirement.81 Her service did not stop there. She was also very active in the community at large well into her senior years.

Speaker and Community Activist As mentioned previously, Green was a powerful orator. She once gave twentyfive speeches in five days and lost a pound a day.82 When she was not in an activist role in the community, she was often asked to be the guest speaker of disparate venues that will not be exhausted here. As early as 1920 she spoke at the University Society on the topic of “Race Psychology.”83 Keeping with the race theme and UC affiliation, Green spoke at Hull House with Jane Addams addressing the topic “What is the Race Problem.” In many ways, Green’s training in race relations at UC guided her in her choice of speaking engagements. Six years later, Green began to speak on behalf of the Northern District Association of Women.84 Green continued to honor the community with her oratory skills until her last speech at age eighty-eight, when she spoke at a Woman’s Day

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celebration.85 Still, her speaking engagements were thwarted by her community activism. Green was active in many community forums. Like her speaking engagements, her community service and events were vast and cannot be exhausted here. Activities that mirror the actions of other BGLO members as well as activities that were indicative of a leader will receive mention. Green was involved in the AKA-sponsored Mississippi Health Care Project in which primary health care was provided for six years to rural residents of the state.86 Similarly, she and fellow AKA members actively fought against the war during WWII.87 She staunchly advocated for unification, or at least friendly relationships, between Jewish and Christian adherents during WWII.88 Moreover, Green volunteered in more traditional political forums, including hosting President John F. Kennedy’s family on several occasions.89 Her service was not limited to attending and/or entertaining at politically tinged events. She dedicated her time and energy to a multitude of unpaid positions throughout the Chicago area. While maintaining her activism with AKA, Green simultaneously held memberships and offices in the Chicago Urban League; the state and county boards of the League of Women Voters; the Douglas League; the Public Affairs Committee of the South Parkway YWCA; the Human Relations Department of Women’s City Clubs and Women’s Division of the Chicago Church Federation; the City Recreation Department; the Chicago Board of Health; the Commission of Human Relations; and the Chicago Board of Education.90 I submit that she earned the right to vote as she pleased on the CSB. She knew the city in intimate detail. Astonishingly, this list of services that Green provided the city of Chicago virtually mirror the service records of fellow AKA presidents in their respective cities.91

Conclusion Green had a vision for the AKA organization; consequently, she multiplied the growth of the group exponentially, as well as developed a mechanism of communication to ensure sustainability of the organization.92 She learned from her predecessors and in turn, she led by example. She learned how to stand in the face of adversity from Nellie Quander. Quander saved a floundering AKA and continued to respect the mutinous members of the newly formed group as evidenced by her early participation in several joint ventures with the Deltas.93 Similarly, Green walked with integrity. The school busing issue took the lead within the media with both popular white and black newspapers reporting on most of Green’s voting activity. In fact her stance graced the first and third page of the Chicago Tribune and the Chicago Defender, respectively, for nearly three consecutive years. Nevertheless, Green was loathed by many, yet


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she did not acquiesce to their demands. She located her truth and walked in it. Although Green’s struggle took place outside the confines of the Ivy Leaves, Nellie Quander’s example undoubtedly helped Green negotiate the above-mentioned terrain. This chapter has focused on one individual in one BGLO. Yet, many of Green’s characteristics are transferable to leadership within the overall BGLO community at large. For example, Green’s community activism and commitment to education is indicative of former as well as contemporary BGLO indoctrination.94 The previous description of the training of a leader is not sufficient to actualize the image, however. One’s career choice contributes to molding the final persona. This is seen in Green’s sociological training and feminist pragmatism worldview. She was educated by the progenitors of the science of race relations.95 Jane Addams, the mother of social work, was her mentor and friend.96 I contend that Green’s career choice and worldview guided her various life missions as her BGLO training guided her through them. Notes 1. University of Chicago, “Loraine R. Green Student Transcripts” (1930). 2. Marjorie Parker, Alpha Kappa Alpha through the Years 1908–1988 (Chicago: Mobium Press, 1990). 3. Mary Jo Deegan, The New Woman of Color: The Collected Writings of Fannie Barrier Williams (Dekalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2002); University of Chicago, Loraine R. Green Student Transcripts. 4. Ibid. 5. Ibid. 6. Mary Jo Deegan, “‘Dear Love, Dear Love’: Feminist Pragmatism and the Chicago Female World of Love and Ritual,” Gender and Society 5, no. 10 (1996): 590–607. 7. R. Burke Johnson and Anthony J. Onwuegbuzie, “Mixed Methods Research: A Research Paradigm Whose Time Has Come,” Educational Research 33, no. 7 (2004): 14–26. 8. Cornel West, The American Evasion of Philosophy: A Genealogy of Pragmatism (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1989). 9. Charlene Seigfried, Pragmatism and Feminism: Reweaving the Social Fabric (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996). 10. Richard Rorty, “Feminism and Pragmatism,” Michigan Quarterly Review (Spring 1991): 3–14. 11. Mary Jo Deegan, Jane Addams and the Men of the Chicago School: 1982–1918 (New Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction Books, 1990). 12. West, The American Evasion of Philosophy. 13. Johnson and Onwuegbuzie, “Mixed Methods Research.” 14. Michael R. Hill, “Roscoe Pound and American Sociology: A Study in Archival Frame Analysis, Sociobiography, and Sociological Jurisprudence” (Ph.D. diss., University of Nebraska-Lincoln), 1–929.

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15. Jack K. Campbell, “Inside Lives: The Quality of Biography,” Qualitative Research in Education: Focus and Methods (East Sussex: Falmer Press, 1988), 59–75. Sherri Cavan, 20th Century Gothic: America’s Nixon (San Fransico: Wigan Pier Press, 1979). 16. Cavan, 20th Century Gothic. 17. Judy Long, Telling Women’s Lives: Subject—Narrator—Reader—Text (New York: New York University Press, 1999). 18. Mary Jo Deegan, Deegan and Green Interview, 1992. Loraine R. Green, “The Rise of Race Consciousness in the American Negro” (M.A. thesis, University of Chicago). I received Institutional Review Board approval for the interviews June 2005. 19. William J. Wilson, The Truly Disadvantaged: The Inner City, the Underclass, and Public Policy (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987). 20. Johnson, Oliver C. Cox and the Chicago School of Sociology, 99–112. Oliver C. Cox, Race: A Study in Social Dynamics (New York: Monthly Review Press, 2000). 21. Deegan, The New Woman of Color; Mary Jo Deegan, Race, Hull-House, and the University of Chicago: A New Conscience Against Ancient Evils (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 2002); Mary Jo Deegan, Women in Sociology (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood, 1991); Baldwin, The Place of Race in U.S. Social Thought, 397–450; Herbert M. Hunter and Sameer Y. Abraham, Race, Class, and the World System: The Sociology of Oliver C. Cox (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1987). 22. Johnson, Oliver C. Cox and the Chicago School of Sociology, 99–112. 23. Deegan, Race, Hull-House, and the University Of Chicago. 24. Charles M. Judd, Eliot R. Smith, and Louisa H. Kidder, Research Methods in Social Relations (San Diego, Calif.: Harcourt Brace Jovanivich College Publishers, 1991). 25. Pamela E. Oliver and Daniel J. Myers, “How Events Enter the Public Sphere,” American Journal of Sociology 105 (1999): 28–87. 26. John D. McCarthy et al., “Electronic and Print Media Representations of Washington D.C. Demonstrations, 1982 and 1991,” American Sociological Review 61 (1999): 478–99. 27. Jerome Kirk and Marc L. Miller, Reliability and Validity in Qualitative Research (Beverly Hills, Calif.: Sage Publications, 1986). Michael R. Hill, Archival Strategies and Techniques (Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage Publications, 1993). 28. Andre McKenzie, “In the Beginning: The Early History of the Divine Nine,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005), 181–210. 29. Paula Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood: Delta Sigma Theta and the Challenge of the Black Sorority Movement, 1st ed. (New York: Morrow, 1988). 30. Andre McKenzie, “In the Beginning: The Early History of the Divine Nine,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005), 181–210. 31. Ibid. 32. Gloria H. Dickenson, “Pledged to Remember: Africa in the Life and Lore of Black Greek-Letter Organizations,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005), 11–35.


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33. “Alpha Kappa Alpha: A Legacy of Sisterhood and Service,” Alpha Kappa Alpha Incorporated, http://www.aka1908.com/past/nationalpresidents (accessed September 20, 2006). 34. Ibid. 35. Loraine R. Green, “Letter from the Editor,” The Alpha Kappa Alpha Ivy Leaf, 1921, 4. 36. Deegan, The New Woman of Color; Barbara J. Risman, “College Women and Sororities: The Social Construction and Reaffirmation of Gender Roles,” in Women and Symbolic Interaction, ed. Mary Jo Deegan and Michael R. Hill (Winchester, Mass.: Allen and Unwin, 1987), 25–140. 37. University of Chicago, Loraine R. Green Student Transcripts; Deegan, Race, HullHouse, and the University of Chicago. 38. Green, Letter from the Editor, 4. 39. “Chicago Society,” Chicago Defender, January 3, 1925. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 40. “New Year’s Greetings to all Sorrors,” Chicago Defender, January 2, 1932 (accessed September 10, 2006). 41. Alpha Kappa Alpha: A Legacy of Sisterhood and Service. 42. “Charleston AKAs Have Celebration,” Chicago Defender, January 22, 1949, 8. 43. “Observe Women’s Week at Chicago Celebration,” Chicago Defender, November 15, 1941. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 44. “AKA Greeks Meet in Chicago,” Chicago Defender, February 9, 1963. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 45. “Picture,” Chicago Defender, July 10, 1948. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 46. Loraine R. Green, “Letter to a Friend” (1994). 47. “Dynamic Chicago Sorors Give Banquet at Sherman,” Chicago Defender, February 28, 1953. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 48. “Faces and Places,” Chicago Defender, October 18, 1975. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 49. “Theta Omega Chapter, AKA, Honors Members for Year’s Achievements,” Chicago Defender, July 4, 1959. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 50. “Name Murray, Mrs. Green to School Board,” Chicago Daily Tribune, sec. A, April 25, 1958. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Tribune (1849–1985) (accessed September 10, 2006). 51. Frank Vincent, Interview, January 21, 2006. 52. “Chicago Housewives Set Up Far-Reaching Program,” Chicago Defender, December 12, 1959. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 53. The first nine members of AKA were teachers. In addition, Margaret Hill and Beulah Burke were college instructors/professors, and Lucy Stow organized the first junior high school in D.C. (Parker, Alpha Kappa Alpha through the Years 1908–1988.). 54. “Kozminski PTA to Hear Songs by 8th Graders,” Chicago Daily Tribune, sec. S, December 17, 1944.

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55. “South Shore PTAs to Mark Founders Day,” Chicago Daily Tribune, sec. S, February 14, 1954. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Tribune (1849– 1985) (accessed September 10, 2006). 56. Vincent, Interview. 57. Sylvia H. Washington, “Mrs. Block Beautiful: African American Women and the Birth of the Urban Conservation Movement, Chicago, Illinois, 1917–1954,” Environmental Justice 1, no. 1 (2008): 13–23; Timuel D. Black, Bridges of Memory: Chicago’s First Wave of Black Migration (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 2003). 58. Timuel D. Black, Personal Interview, July 31, 2007. 59. Black, Bridges of Memory. 60. “Education Board Gets New Policy,” Chicago Defender, January 24, 1959. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 61. Douglas Massey and Nancy Denton, American Apartheid: Segregation and the Making of the Underclass (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1998). 62. Green, The Rise of Race Consciousness in the American Negro. 63. Vincent, Interview. 64. “Parents, School Officials to Hold Panel Discussion,” Chicago Daily Tribune, sec. W, September 27, 1964. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Tribune (1849–1985) (accessed September 10, 2006). 65. “Picture,” Chicago Defender, January 13, 1962. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). Audrey T. Weaver, “Board Ignores Protest, Buys Mobile Classrooms,” Daily Defender, January 25, 1962 (accessed September 10, 2006); “Article 3,” Los Angeles Times, February 29, 1968 (accessed September 10, 2006). “Onion for the Day,” Daily Defender, February 29, 1968 (accessed September 10, 2006). Casey Banas, “School Board Rejects Austin Bus Plan, Wants 2d Revised,” Chicago Tribune, February 29, 1968 (accessed September 10, 2006). “Bus Block Angers Parents,” Chicago Defender, March 2, 1968 (accessed September 10, 2006). 66. “Mrs. Green Defends Willis: Supreme Effort Says Lone Negro Board Member,” Chicago Defender, April 7, 1962. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006); “Board Ignores Negroes in its New Pact for Dr. Willis,” Chicago Defender, July 15, 1961 (accessed September 10, 2006). 67. “Okays Negro Teachers for all-White Schools,” Daily Defender, November 21, 1962. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 68. “City Hall Sit-in to Begin Today,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 22, 1963. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Tribune (1849–1985) (accessed September 10, 2006). 69. Dave Potter, “Two More Groups Blast Mrs. Green on Schools,” Chicago Defender, June 18, 1964. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006); “Racial Unrest Alerts Chicago by a Staff Correspondent of the Christian Science Monitor,” Christian Science Monitor, June 19, 1963 (accessed September 10, 2006). 70. There are many theories and explanations for why Green voted as she did on the CSB that go beyond the scope of this chapter. 71. University of Chicago, Loraine R. Green Student Transcripts Anonymous, 1930; Lee Harvey, Myths of the Chicago School of Sociology (Brookfield, N.Y.: Avebury, 1987).


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72. Deegan, Deegan and Green Interview. 73. “Other People’s Business,” Chicago Defender, February 6, 1960. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 74. Deegan, Deegan and Green Interview; Vincent, Interview. 75. Robert Park, Race and Culture (New York: Free Press of Glencoe, 1964). 76. Although the race/class debate goes beyond the scope of this section and chapter, it deserves mention, given the disparate positions that Green took when voting against the masses on the busing issues while simultaneously protecting African American teachers (her peers) when they integrated the teaching staff of the very schools that she sought to bar black children from attending. 77. Johnson and Onwuegbuzie, Mixed Methods Research, 14–26. 78. Ibid. 79. Ibid. 80. Belinda Robnett, How Long, How Long?: African American Women in the Struggle for Civil Rights (Oxford, N.Y.: Oxford University Press, 1997). 81. “Mayor Welcomes 51 Senior Citizens to Hall of Fame,” Chicago Tribune, sec. N, May 24, 1970 (accessed September 10, 2006). 82. “Congratulations to the Mayor’s Choice,” Chicago Defender, April 28, 1958. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 83. “Mrs. Green in Lecture,” Chicago Defender, October 23, 1920. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 84. “Mrs. Green Talks on Student Scholarship,” Chicago Defender, April 16, 1932. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 85. “New Testament M.B. Woman’s Day Sunday “ Chicago Defender, October 14, 1972. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 86. “Observe Women’s Week at Chicago Celebration,” Chicago Defender, November 15, 1941, 4. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 87. “Discuss Negro’s Place in War at Church Sunday,” Chicago Daily Tribune, sec. S, May 24, 1951. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910– 1970) (accessed September 10, 2006). 88. “Round Table to Give 4 South Side Meetings,” Chicago Daily Tribune, sec. S, February 4, 1945. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Tribune (1849–1985) (accessed September 10, 2006). “Hold Goodwill Tea Thursday in West Suburb,” Chicago Daily Tribune, sec. W, April 29, 1945. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Tribune (1849–1985) (accessed September 10, 2006). 89. “Kennedy Kin in Chicago to Aid Campaign,” Chicago Daily Tribune, September 16, 1960 (accessed September 10, 2006). “Kennedy Lady,” Chicago Defender, October 5, 1960. Available at ProQuest Historical Newspapers Chicago Defender (1910–1970) (accessed September 10, 2006); “Parents Air School Views at Chopin Budget Hearing,” Chicago Daily Tribune, sec. WA, October 6, 1960 (accessed September 10, 2006). 90. Parker, Alpha Kappa Alpha through the Years 1908–1988. 91. Ibid.

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92. “Up Close and Candid,” The Alpha Kappa Alpha Ivy Leaf, (Winter 1987): 12–15. 93. Parker, Alpha Kappa Alpha through the Years 1908–1988. 94. Lawrence C. Ross, The Divine Nine: The History of African American Fraternities and Sororities (New York: Kennsington Publishing, 2000) 95. Deegan, Race, Hull-House, and the University of Chicago. 96. Ibid.; Deegan, Deegan and Green Interview.

Chapter Three Commentary Laura Morgan Roberts

This chapter illuminates the role that black Greek-letter organizations play in shaping the leadership agendas and fueling the leadership initiative of their members. It offers a unique perspective on the interplay between BGLO membership and involvement in extra-organizational (i.e., non-BGLO) endeavors. Johnson provides a rich description of the life of Loraine R. Green, the second national president of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated. Green served as president of Alpha Kappa Alpha from 1919 to 1923, but her career of public leadership and civic engagement continued for several decades beyond her official leadership tenure for Alpha Kappa Alpha. This account of Green’s leadership reveals the ever-present interplay between Green’s sociological views and her civic engagement, especially in the Chicago community. Green’s most prominent leadership role in the Chicago community was as a racial minority member of the Chicago School Board during contentious debates about school integration. Johnson analyzes how Green’s resistance to school busing as a means for increasing equal access to public education may have represented a confluence of her pragmatism (as shaped by faculty mentors at the University of Chicago), feminism (as reflected in her deep commitment to women’s pursuit of higher education and leadership), and her deep engagement around African American issues (a key emphasis of the leadership agenda for Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc.). Green’s stance toward busing drew severe, widely publicized criticism from African Americans in Chicago and beyond. Green did not appear to publicly defend her beliefs, but she also did not appear to waver from them. While she experienced this leadership crucible, Green remained affectionately attached to her sorority and involved in local, regional, and national sorority activities. She received accolades from the sorority for her civic engagement, which suggests that the respect was mutual. By focusing on the life of one BGLO president, Johnson invites us to consider how BGLOs provide a “secure base” from which members are able to fully engage in multiple life domains in ways that they experience as personally 67

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authentic. Many accounts of Greek life emphasize how fraternities and sororities serve as strong sources of identification that force conformity of action and uniformity of thought. In contrast, this chapter offers a more-nuanced, complex account of how BGLOs support members’ unconventional professional (and extra-organizational) pursuits. More important, we can envision how BGLOs serve as a base of social support that energizes members to meet adversity with resilience. As such, we can learn from this life history about the sociological imprint of BGLO involvement on extra-organizational leadership, particularly around issues of race and justice, as well as the psychological strengthening resulting from collective identification with BGLOs. Holistic accounts of African American leaders such as this are valuable in enriching our scholarship about career development, leadership, and social support.

4. Faith and Fraternalism A Doctrinal and Empirical Analysis Kenneth I. Clarke Sr. and Tamara L. Brown

Black Greek-letter organizations (BGLOs) have been accused of being antiChristian. Though not a wholly original critique of college-based fraternities and sororities, Christian critics of BGLOs are either becoming more vocal or increasing in number.1 In the early twenty-first century, a number of anti-BGLOs—and, by extension, anti-secret societies—Web sites and writings surfaced, in many instances authored by former BGLO members. A consistent thread in the fabric of their arguments is that BGLOs are inherently incompatible with Christianity because they demand allegiance to an organization in a manner that supersedes a commitment to Jesus Christ. Anti-BGLO activists claim that secret societies are demonic in nature because members share privileged information that serves as a smokescreen for polytheistic worship, and they cite information allegedly culled from the secret rituals of these organizations to bolster their claims. Since anti-BGLO activists believe polytheism is at the root of black fraternities and sororities, they demand that Christians (monotheists) repudiate association with such organizations.2 The anti-BGLO movement has caused a stir on several college campuses, and some undergraduates have repudiated membership in their fraternities and sororities, in some cases having been persuaded to do so by anti-BGLO rhetoric. Some of these students have stated their decision to leave their Greekletter organization arose from a need to resolve a conflict of faith precipitated by their Greek membership.3 While it is impossible to discern, and imprudent to judge, the personal motives of these individuals, what seems clear is that the anti-BGLO contingent has targeted undergraduates in the embryonic stages of their organizational involvement.4 Given the lack of uniformity in membership intake processes, some of these BGLO members may not have been grounded sufficiently in their organizational history or in the broader historical context that gave rise to BGLOs.5 These young people may not be aware, for example, 69

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that the Christian experiences of African Americans influenced the development of BGLOs. In this chapter, we examine the veracity of the claims made by anti-BGLO activists regarding the incompatibility of faith and fraternalism.

A Misrepresentation of the Facts We wondered about the veracity of claims that BGLO members have abandoned their faith. Is it true that BGLO members are more committed to their Greek organizations than they are to their Christian faith? Is BGLO membership incompatible with faith in Jesus Christ? To find the answers, we conducted a national survey of BGLO members. We asked them a series of questions about their faith and whether it was central in their lives or whether it was relegated to the back burner due to their BGLO membership. We obtained approval to conduct the study from a university Institutional Review Board (IRB), a board that authorizes and monitors all research to ensure it is done in an ethical way and in a way that does not harm participants.6 After obtaining approval to do the study, we distributed an e-mail survey to BGLO members via national BGLO email lists and listservs, allowing for a two-week response time. Members from all nine BGLOs responded. Our findings show that the anti-BGLO rhetoric is a misrepresentation of the facts about the faith and spirituality of BGLO members. Our findings are as follows. BGLO Religious Orientation

As seen from Chart 1, the vast majority of BGLO respondents consider themselves a part of an organized religion. Of the 394 people who responded to this question, 347 were part of an organized religion. Only 5 were atheists, 21 were agnostic, and 22 were unsure. Clearly, BGLO members do not feel their Greek membership precludes their membership or involvement in an organized

Faith and Fraternalism

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Table 1: BGLO Religious Denominations Religious Denomination

Frequency

Baptist

119

Non-Denominational

54

Methodist

51

Catholic

33

Pentecostal

18

Church of Christ

9

Episcopal

8

Lutheran

4

Presbyterian

4

Christian/Disciples of Christ

4

Seventh-Day Adventist

3

Protestant

3

Jehovah’s Witness

1

Brethren

1

Congregational

1

Hebrew

1

religion. Further, nearly all (93 percent) of those in the “organized religion” group were Christians. Since those in this latter category—the 347 respondents that are both Greek and Christian—are most relevant for the current discussion, we asked that subset further questions about their faith. These BGLO Christians are diverse denominationally (see Table 1), but most are Baptist (38 percent), Nondenominational (17 percent), Methodist (16 percent), or Catholic (11 percent). Many of the criticisms made by anti-BGLO Christians pertain to the impossibility of being Greek and Christian. The central argument is that being a BGLO member does not allow for one’s faith to be central in one’s life because allegiance to the sorority or fraternity supersedes allegiance to God. To determine if such an assertion is true, we asked BGLO members about the centrality of their faith. Seventy-nine percent reported having had a “born again” experience, a turning point in their lives where they committed themselves to Jesus Christ, and 97 percent reported the experience was “still important” to them today. We also asked them how often they attend church, participate in other religious activities, and spend time in personal religious activities, and we asked questions about the salience of their faith in everyday life. In response to the question “How important to you are your religious beliefs?” 63.8 percent reported “extremely important” and 26.1 percent reported “very important.” Very

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few reported their religious beliefs as “fairly important” and almost no one (2.4 percent) reported their religious beliefs as “unimportant.” As Table 2 shows below, BGLO members do not just espouse religious belief; they are actively involved. Most attend church and participate in Bible studies, prayer groups, and other religious discussions at least once a week. Moreover, when we inquired about personal religious activities, 66 percent reported they engage in personal prayer, meditation, and Bible study at least once a day and 15.6 percent said they engage in these personal religious activities two or more times a week. Less than 10 percent said they never engage in such activities. Table 2: BGLO Religious Involvement Religious Participation Once or more each week

A few times a month

A few times a year or less

Never

How often do you attend church, synagogue, or other religious meetings

60.4%

18.7%

19.7%

1.2%

How often do you attend Bible studies, prayer groups, religious discussions, etc.

40%

16.4%

36.9%

7.7%

True

Not true

Unsure

In my life, I experience the presence of God

93.8%

2.4%

3.7%

My religious beliefs are what really lies behind my whole approach to life

88.3%

6.1%

5.5%

I try hard to carry my religion over into all other dealings in life

85.9%

7.9%

6.1%

Centrality of Faith

Why are BGLO members so involved in the church and in personal religious activities? They are so involved because, despite being BGLO members, their faith is central to their lives. Their faith (not their BGLO membership) is what gives their lives meaning: 88 percent reported that their religious beliefs lie behind their whole approach to life, 93.8 percent reported that they experience the presence of God in their lives, and 85.9 percent reported that they carry their religious beliefs over into other dealings in life. Thus, rather than Greekdom corrupting their faith, just the opposite is true; their faith influences their Greek involvement and all other areas of life. Indeed, when we asked about the importance of their religious standards of behavior, only 8.1 percent reported that such conformity was “unimportant.” Only 6.8 percent reported that they do not contribute financially to their church. When we asked about the role of scripture in their lives, only 2.2 percent reported that it is “not important” to obey scripture.


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These numbers are consistent with national averages for African Americans in general. Data from the National Survey of Black Americans show that roughly 70 percent attend religious services at least a few times a month (compared to 79.1 percent in our study), and data from the National Survey of American Life, a survey of the U.S. population, show that 80 percent of black respondents said religion is very important in their lives (compared to 85 percent in our study).7 Rather than being aberrant, the level of religious involvement among BGLO Christians and the centrality of their faith to their daily lives are actually consistent with, even slightly higher, than that of African American Christians as a whole. The level of religious devotion and involvement we found among BGLO members is not surprising when one considers the historical context of African American religious participation in general. As Taylor, Chatters, and Levin make clear in Religion in the Lives of African Americans, African American theological orientations and religious practices emanated from the unique and dynamic social, political, and historical contexts that characterized their position within American society . . . Because black religious expression also occurred within the context of a hostile larger society, the aims and purposes of religious belief and expression were uniquely oriented and adapted toward addressing life conditions that were deleterious to the well-being of African Americans. Historically, African American religious traditions have necessarily reflected the salient issues of emancipation, individual and community enfranchisement, civil and human rights, and social and economic justice.8 Indeed, their faith in Christ led African Americans to develop organizations (BGLOs and others) that allowed them collective engagement in social activism, racial uplift, and justice work. For African Americans, religious participation and social activism are two sides of the same coin, a behavior modeled in various interpretations of the life of Jesus Christ. When this historical context of African American religious participation is considered alongside the fact that BGLOs were founded upon, and strongly influenced by, Christian principles, it becomes clear that the maintenance of the Christian faith is actually consistent with BGLO membership; a lack of faith is aberrant. While anti-BGLO activists would have us believe faith and fraternalism are inconsistent, a brief look at history and the actual levels of BGLO religious participation makes clear that a lack of faith is inconsistent with fraternalism. We also asked the BGLO Christians in our survey to offer their opinions and perspectives on this raging debate. Specifically, we asked: “Some people believe that being in a fraternity or sorority is inconsistent with religious faith, that fraternities and sororities become idols that members worship rather than

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God. What do you think about this? Do you agree or disagree?” By way of this open-ended question, we allowed the BGLO Christians in our sample to write as much or as little as they wanted in response. Representative responses are included below. Some of the respondents described their Greek affiliation as deepening their faith and credited their Greek affiliation for providing a vehicle for Christian ministry. Two respondents wrote: “I disagree. My respective sorority if anything has been a great catalyst at times propelling me to seek God even more. I have met many women in my faith through the organization who have helped build my faith. I have never felt that my faith has wavered because of my affiliation to my organization.” “I disagree. They are just additional platforms to fulfill the Great Commission (Jesus Christ’s command to his disciples to spread the Gospel to all nations). They are [sic] other vehicles in which we can minister to people and do good in our communities.” Others argued there was no inconsistency between faith and Greek affiliation, pointing out that the organizations were founded upon Christian principles and some of the BGLO founders were themselves religious leaders. Three respondents wrote: “Delta Sigma Theta was founded on Christian principles and remains at the core of the sorority. I strongly disagree with anyone who believes that we worship our organization over God.” “I strongly disagree simply because we have fraternity and sorority members that are heavily involved in the church and are very spiritual and religious. One of the founders of Phi Beta Sigma, L. F Morse, was a minister.” “I have heard the statement but disagree [. . .] because we are founded on Christian principles and our oath and traditions point out conduct becoming just like the bible.” Still others acknowledged that some BGLO members do worship their organizations, but they lay the blame for this idolatry at the feet of those individual members and not the organizations. Four respondents wrote at length: “To an extent, I can agree with the statement. Some people join fraternities and sororities for the ‘glam’ of it all—for the letters/colors, party hop, get the girl, get the star athlete, be the center of attention, etc. These are the people who will fall victim to worshipping the organization more than God. It is the


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people who join BGLOs for their commitment to the community; for the service through national programs; and, for the leadership they provide for the Black community that don’t idolize the organization over God.” “I disagree that being in a fraternity or sorority is inconsistent with religious faith. However, I do agree that some members idolize their organizations so much so that they prioritize this above honoring and worshiping God, just as some members as well as non-members do the same with other facets, such as relationships with other people, friends, food, drugs, alcohol, etc. We are all subject to free will and each individual decides how they prioritize what is important to them.” “I disagree. Much like other institutions, fraternities and sororities are made of people. Consistency with values occurs when members know who they are [and] choose or not choose to live their values.” “Fraternity and sorority were never intended by founders and early pioneers of the respective organizations to become idols that members worship rather than God. Unfortunately, that does not prevent a small number of members from giving their fraternity or sorority affiliation such idol status. But it’s a small number and should reflect more on the individual members’ religious beliefs and/or faith (or lack thereof) rather than on the fraternity or sorority.” As seen from these representative comments, our survey respondents do not believe BGLO membership is inconsistent with faith. Indeed, some describe their BGLO membership as deepening their faith and providing a way for them to live out Jesus’ commandment as expressed in the “Great Commission.” There is a general belief that people can make idols out of anything including their Greek organizations, houses, money, people, et cetera, and scripture certainly affirms tendencies to turn people, positions, organizations, and objects into idols. Although some people give their BGLOs idol status in their lives, there is nothing endemic to the organizations that make them idolatrous for all members. Anecdotal evidence exists to support these claims as well. At a recent step show, members of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Incorporated, chanted about themselves: “To her, the love of God is a must.” Another example is found in the paraphernalia of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Incorporated. The front of one of their T-shirts (see Images 1 and 2 below) proclaims the wearer to be a Delta Sigma Theta-chosen ambassador for Christ, and the back affirms membership in the sorority as a way to fulfill the “Great Commission.” Such images are vivid illustrations of the way many members interpret an essential consistency between Christianity and Greekdom.

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Other researchers have also underscored the importance of involvement in civic organizations as a way to live out one’s faith. Lincoln and Mamiya, in The Black Church in the African American Experience, point out that the link between religion and volunteerism is consistent with the civic orientation of the black church and that, for many African Americans, civic and charitable involvements are essential aspects of devotional life.9 Other researchers argue that religiosity is a potent predictor of volunteerism among African Americans.10 From the aforementioned data and extant literature, we conclude that the claims made by anti-BGLO activists are untrue and are misrepresentations of the facts. Anti-BGLO activist claims seem based on the overblown accounts of a handful of people. We interpret our data to show that BGLO Christians hold strongly to their faith after initiation, remain active in their churches both in person and financially, practice their faith personally through prayer, meditation, and Bible study, and incorporate their religious beliefs into their whole approach to life. Moreover, the BGLO Christians in this survey point out how BGLOs are not only founded on Christian principles, but (as evidenced in one


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of the aforementioned quotes) BGLOs also foster the faith of their members. Indeed, BGLO members proudly display their faith, not only in religious contexts, but also in Greek contexts such as in step shows and on their paraphernalia. In these ways, they adhere closely to the religious practices and perspectives of their Christian ancestors and to those of African American Christians today.

A Misrepresentation of Scripture From the standpoint of college student development, during a period of life when students often experience significant intellectual, existential, and spiritual shifts, a certain vulnerability to the type of religious zealotry exemplified by the anti-BGLO cohorts may be operative.11 Anti-BGLO advocates reflect this zealotry in inaccurate biblical interpretations and misappropriations of scripture. A favorite distortion of scripture by these activists is that Christians cannot be sorors or fraters with persons who are not Christian, based on texts such as II Corinthians 6:14 (Amplified Bible): “Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers [do not make mismated alliances with them or come under a different yoke with them, inconsistent with your faith]. For what partnership have right

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living and right standing with God with iniquity and lawlessness? Or how can light have fellowship with darkness?” One reason why this is a misappropriation of scripture is that the findings from our empirical study show that the vast majority of BGLO members are Christians. Thus, being a member of a BGLO does not mean one is unequally yoked with unbelievers because the majority of BGLO members are, in fact, believers. Another reason this is a misappropriation has to do with inaccurate biblical analysis. Careful biblical analysis reveals that in Paul’s correspondence with the Corinthian church different answers are given at different times as to how Christians should relate to the world around them. A literal examination of the II Corinthians 6 text, as given by anti-BGLO activists, leaves one to conclude that associations and linkages with anyone who does not share one’s faith is sin against God. However, Paul, in his I Corinthians correspondence, asserts that the influence of a Christian spouse may have a positive spiritual impact on the non-Christian spouse as well as their children (I Corinthians 7:14, 16). Paul credits holiness with its own power to cross over the border and influence so as to change unbelievers. This perspective is a different take on Christian interaction with non-Christians than the notion of II Corinthians 6:14 (a “protection” of holiness point of view). Additionally, in I Corinthians 10:27, Paul affirms Christian social involvement with non-Christians: accepting a nonChristian’s invitation to dinner constitutes no ethical or spiritual dilemma for the Christian, particularly one with a clear and spiritually grounded identity. Further, Paul allows that there may be instances in which non-Christians may venture in where the church gathers, which may permit an opportunity for Christian witness (I Corinthians 14:23–25).12 Indeed, the Delta Sigma Theta tshirt described earlier (see Images 1 and 2), as well as responses from those surveyed, show that many see their BGLO membership as an opportunity to share their faith with others. Beyond Paul, an exegetical analysis of the life of Jesus Christ makes clear that association with nonbelievers is the way to spread the Gospel message. Similar to the way BGLO members are criticized for associating with nonbelievers today, two thousand years ago Jesus was frequently criticized by the religious leaders of his day for spending time with “outsiders”—those whom the religious elite of his day deemed unclean, sinful, and unworthy of association. Interestingly, Jesus considered such people his followers, and as the reason for his ministry on earth. In Mark 2:15 NIV, it reads “while Jesus was having dinner at Levi’s house, many tax collectors and sinners were eating with him and his disciples for there were many who followed him.” And when Jesus was questioned about this behavior by the religious leaders of his day, he responded, “it is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick . . . I have not come to call the righteous but sinners” (Matthew 9:12–13, NIV). The passage makes clear Jesus’ concern is less about secluding oneself with the religious elite, rather, it seems


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to praise those that make meaningful connections with those in need of the message of the Gospel. It is important to note that the word “sinner” had a different meaning when Jesus spoke it than it does now. Two thousand years ago, the term sinner referred to toll collectors and others who were presumed not to observe the God’s Torah, . . . [those who were] judged to have dishonored God by their observable behavior or way of life. In effect, “sinner” is a designation for members of the out-group, ostracized from the community by Torah transgressions believed to shame God.13 Thus, when the Bible uses the term sinner, the reference is not confined to one that has violated Torah laws—regarding ritual purity, for example—but extends to anyone considered an outsider/outcast to, the social community, regardless of reason. Jesus not only ate with such sinners (outsiders), he also recruited them as his disciples (see Mark 2:13–14). Jesus allowed a woman of ill-repute to anoint him and wash his feet and then praised her for having more faith than his religious host (Luke 7:36–50), and he touched lepers to heal them (Luke 5:13). In all these instances, Jesus was not made “dirty” or somehow “unholy” by his association with sinners. Just the opposite happened: people once deemed unclean became holy through their association with Jesus. It was intimate contact—not separation from Jesus, as the religious leaders thought—that facilitated transformation. Peter Littleford sums up well the great difference between Jesus and the religious leaders of his day (and, to some extent, those of today) in their attitudes toward associating with “sinners”: The scribes and the Pharisees felt that those who had broken the religious and moral laws of Judaism were beyond the pale: they were to be excluded, ostracized, and rejected. Their attitude was not only judgmental, not only condemnatory, but was also self-righteous. It was as though they had established a stockade with the righteous safely on the inside and sinners outside. The righteous would be safe from becoming contaminated by the unrighteous. How different this was from the attitude of Jesus. Luke tells us that, without condoning sin, Jesus welcomed sinners and offered them forgiveness and love, and gave them understanding and care. Like a magnet, he drew the most despised members of society towards himself and valued their friendship. But, of course, he did more than that! Jesus not only welcomed sinners when they came to him, but he took the trouble to seek them out and meet them . . . For Jesus, God’s love was more concerned with forgiveness and reconciliation and new life, a fresh start, than with condemnation, punishment and retribution

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. . . In our society, where we quickly categorize people, this is hard to accept . . . When his opponents called Jesus “the friend of sinners” they intended it to be an insult, but he took it as a compliment. His mission was prospering! . . . We need to commit ourselves actively to the community around us and so proclaim the gospel in word and deed.14 Thus, it seems BGLO members are on target when they view their sorority or fraternity membership as a means to live out Jesus’ command to spread the Gospel. The segregationist view which anti-BGLO activists often hold leads them to consider association with nonbelievers as inappropriate or even sinful, and appears to run completely counter to Jesus’ message. Jesus makes the point unmistakably clear in sermons in which he chastises the religious leaders of his day for cloistering themselves away from people they deemed sinners. Jesus states, “I tell you the truth, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the Kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to show you the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him” (Matthew 21:31, NIV). Thus, the interpretation anti-BGLO activists make of Paul’s writings—and the biblical mandate in general—must be inaccurate, as it flies in the face of Jesus’ own life and ministry (the bedrock of Paul’s teachings). Both Jesus and Paul make clear that the way to faithfulness is not to forego contact with “outsiders,” as many anti-BGLO activists claim. The point of this exegetical study is to illustrate why one cannot simply isolate a biblical text as to validate one’s theological or ideological point of view. What is needed is an in-depth study that places the biblical text in historical context. The Reverend Jesse Jackson,15 a member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity, stated, “text, without context, is pretext.”16 Jackson’s words emphasize that when people take a passage of scripture out of context, their aim is not to illuminate what the scripture says; rather, their aim is to make scripture support already preconceived views and opinions. As relates to the anti-BGLO cohort’s use of texts such as II Corinthians 6:14, the life of Jesus and the writings of Paul clarify that Christians “do not take their clues or values from the world in which they perforce live. They live in the world, but not by it.”17 Living in the world means engagement with persons who have different orientations to living. One cannot avoid such interactions or relationships. The argument of anti-BGLO activists does not accord with the exegetical analysis of scripture, and it is impossible to live out practically. If the anti-BGLO line of thought about disengagement with non-Christians were followed and applied broadly, Christians would not work in largely secular environments or speak to neighbors who are members of other faiths or are secular in their orientation to life. Christians would live cloistered lives instead of engaging in spiritually transformative action based on values distinct from the prevailing


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culture. Anti-BGLO insistence that Christians should disengage from nonChristians is but one of many inconsistencies in their scriptural interpretation. More will be said below about the problems with a disengagement approach. That some undergraduate BGLO members choose to renounce their membership based on religious grounds raises questions about their understanding of faith—that is, their theology—as related to scripture. Given the brief exegetical analysis above, one wonders how they might be swayed to reject their BGLO. In other words, what is happening in the faith development of these students in their ever-fluctuating college contexts that influences such decision making? The decision to renounce membership in a BGLO by an undergraduate or graduate chapter member for religious reasons is a personal choice that should be respected. However, problems ensue when this personal, contextual choice is mandated as the choice all others must also make, and when those who do not choose to rescind their membership are demonized. This unfortunate method of misinterpretation has been the modus operandi of the antiBGLO movement.

A Contest over Spheres of Influence, Power, Secrecy, and Values The nexus of BGLO life and religion, assumed complimentary at the inception of BGLOs in the early twentieth century, has now become an increasingly contested space. At the heart of the contest lay the intersection of secular social influence and Christian practice. This crossroad is where the locus of the debate about the appropriateness of Christian involvement in BGLOs is operative. The history of the emergence of black churches and black secret societies, developments often concurrent with each other, makes clear that multiple spheres of influence and power in African American life have always been present. That there is a nexus, for instance, between black Christians who are also members of BGLOs, is problematic for a segment of the black Christian population—the anti-BGLO contingent. At the heart of this debate are issues of influence and power. The reality of this historic and contemporary intersection between sacred and secular is problematic for certain conservative Christians who prefer that the sole locus of influence and power in black life is within the sacred sphere. The assumptions from which anti-BGLO adherents operate correspond, for example, with one classic model for understanding divine revelation: the “God-Church-World” paradigm. In other words, God’s revelation to humankind comes primarily through the church, which then communicates it to the world. Conversely, the founders of black fraternities and sororities— many of whom were persons of faith—and many of those who followed in their steps, operated from a set of assumptions more compatible with a “God-World-

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Church” model in which God’s revelation is received through the world order, even amid its secularity, and is made manifest uniquely in the church.18 Black Christians of an earlier time were not conflicted about their faith commitments and their fraternal or sorority commitments. A history of struggle against racism and its closely related companion, capitalist exploitation, made it imperative for black people to be involved in multiple communities and organizations. These varied communities/organizations served as countervailing entities against the prevailing status quo. In contemporary times, however, a biblically and theologically conservative subset of the African American Christian community takes umbrage to these multiple allegiances. This subset in black Christendom reflects the implicit if not explicit influence of a brand of white, conservative, evangelical Christianity that has enjoyed recent public ascendancy. Their version of Christianity, however, offers little to the ongoing black struggle for justice and exhibits even less historical appreciation of that struggle and its byproducts (e.g., black fraternal and sororal organizations). Further, their brand of evangelicalism is often anti-intellectual— lacking in well-reasoned critical analysis that informs, supports, and expands one’s spiritual convictions—and reactionary, tendencies replete in anti-BGLO dogma.19 The influence of white conservative evangelicalism, often dualistic in its theological and sociological assumptions, compartmentalizes life from religion in a way that permits racism to run rampant, and is at variance with Africaninfluenced sensibilities.20 Such sensibilities perceive life as organic and interrelated and understand God as operative in the entire created order, thereby allowing for no division between sacred and secular spheres while respecting what each offers humanity.21 Therefore, multiple spheres of influence can intersect one’s life and facilitate the collective struggle of the African American community to experience what Jesus of Nazareth termed “the abundant life” (John 10:10b). The anti-BGLO contingent does not seem to evince a spiritual breadth, intellectual grasp, or substantive historical consciousness regarding the black church, black religion in American life, and the intertwining of black Christianity and BGLOs. The Christian critics of BGLOs are either unaware of, or by volition ignore, the virulent racist social conditions of the early twentieth century that gave rise to black Greek life. These were the conditions these organizations and their individual members opposed, sought to improve, and continue to address through the implementation of national and local outreach programs of these organizations. Many of these same individuals also worked in the context of their faith communities to address the challenges facing black people. It is apparent that anti-BGLO individuals miscomprehend the role or obligation of black Christianity in the contemporary struggle for justice. Their focus on the perceived deception and idolatry of BGLOs, based on literalist


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interpretations of the symbolic language of the rituals of Divine Nine organizations (references to gods) and self-references of BGLOs (e.g., “Alpha Phi Alpha: The light of the world”),22 seems to reinforce the concerns expressed by Robert M. Franklin, social ethicist, public theologian, and president of Morehouse College. Franklin—a member of Sigma Pi Phi Fraternity (also known as The Boulé)—cites concerns about the black church’s “crisis of mission” made manifest in the narrowly focused, privatized spirituality of the anti-BGLO cohort.23 Rendering to oblivion the historical and contemporary understanding of the black church and its role in the personal and social transformation of people, communities, and the nation (i.e., its prophetic task), the anti-BGLO activists claim one cannot be a member of a fraternity or sorority and a Christian. One such individual contacted one of the authors of this chapter by e-mail, in response to comments the author made supporting the involvement of Christians in black fraternities and sororities, stating that God does not approve of Christian participation in secular organizations. To do so, wrote the individual, violates the teachings of Colossians 3:17: “And whatever you do in word or in deed, do ALL in the name of Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him” (capital letters added for emphasis). God, according to this view, is not glorified by the community service done by these organizations because the individual members give such service in the name of their organization, not the name of Jesus. It is an erroneous biblical and sociological assumption to declare that involvement in secular organizations or, by extension, secular activity is forbidden by Christian practice. Jesus of Nazareth, the founder of the Christian faith, was himself a carpenter by trade. The disciples of Jesus, later the apostles of the early church, engaged in professions such as fishing and tax collection. Paul, the author of one-third of the New Testament and most prolific and influential theologian and exegete of early Christianity, was a tentmaker by trade. It was in Paul’s name the dictum was given to the church at Thessalonica, “If a man will not work, he shall not eat” (II Thessalonians 3:10). Anti-BGLO individuals who assert their faith prohibits them from engaging in secular pursuits would do well to reexamine the scriptures and avoid selective and out-of-context prooftexting to support their claims. An assessment of the current lives of the anti-BGLO Christians—not to speak of others who share their viewpoint—would likely reveal their own engagement with secularity. Many of those who would begrudge participation in secular fraternities or sororities are themselves employed in secular workplaces. They are members of secular professional organizations and attend secular professional conferences. They shop at supermarkets and malls that, in many instances, encourage a materialism driven by what Cornel West, member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, has called “market values” antithetical to the “nonmarket” values of “commitment in relationships, solidarity, community, care,

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sacrifice, risk, and struggle,”24 values and norms affirmed by biblical scriptures. Participation in the aforementioned activities is not a violation of Colossians 3:17 unless one places one’s faith in one’s profession (leading to a vulgar form of careerism) or material acquisition (materialism) in a manner that displaces the centrality of the divine in one’s life. Paul Tillich, one of the most influential theologians of the twentieth century, described faith as consisting of one’s ultimate concern, irrespective of whether one places faith in God, possessions, career, nationalism, and so forth. The critical question Tillich raised is whether the subject of one’s faith is worthy of one’s ultimate concern.25 Legitimate criticism may be levied toward members of BGLOs whose commitment to their organizations leads to its own unbounded zealotry that is faith-like in nature—a point cited by anti-BGLO activists— placing Tillich’s caveat in bold relief. But it is inappropriate to assume all BGLO members have such commitments. Conversely, could it not also be said that the obsessive preoccupation of many anti-BGLO activists with demonizing these organizations and individuals based on faulty biblical premises with little, if any, basis in legitimate biblical research may also reflect misplaced faith? There are a plethora of issues BGLOs and faith communities are attempting to address in black neighborhoods in every sector of the United States: the mentorship of young black males and females, poverty, homelessness, HIV/AIDS, teenage pregnancy, illiteracy, and voter apathy, among others. Could not more productive spiritual energy be spent by those opposed to BGLOs in prioritizing these issues as part of the mission of the church? Further, as referenced previously, the anti-BGLO Christian contingent often contends that the secrecy of BGLOs—regarding their rituals of initiation, confidential means of communication by which brothers or sorors identify one another, passwords, organizational symbolisms, and the like—constitute a realm of demonic activity antithetical to Christian values. In other words, this type of secrecy is perceived as concealing what these Christians believe and is the underlying raison d’être for Greek organizations: the worship of the organization itself or polytheistic worship. The anti-BGLO activists make references to aspects of rituals of these organizations they have “uncovered” to make the aforementioned claims. It is one thing to participate in an organization where members are privy to a closely held set of rituals, symbols, gestures, language, and other information known only to those members. It is another thing to claim that the private nature of that information is a breeding ground for sin. Further, there is no evidence to validate the claim that fraternal or sororal involvement is a gateway for polytheistic practice or worship of the organization by all, if any, of its members. The citation of the alleged language of rituals that presumably exemplify polytheism is taken out of the context of the larger ritual and without


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knowledge of the meanings of such symbolism. This is an exercise in isegesis— interpreting a text out of context to fit one’s desired meaning. Isegesis is the obverse of exegesis, which means to extract the meaning of the text within its appropriate context or contexts. The isegetical work of anti-BGLO activists discredits their argument that members worship, so to speak, their organizations. Again, while some fraters and sorors do make a secular or civil religion of their organizational involvement in ways that leave little or no room for the divine, this is not the case with most BGLO members, as the aforementioned survey of BGLO members makes clear. There appears to be a woeful ignorance, or willful obfuscation, of historical fact on the part of anti-BGLO entities regarding the initial purposes of secret societies. The purpose of such societies in general was to promulgate “values of sobriety, thrift, temperance, piety, industry, self-restraint, and moral obligation.” Said values are not out of synchronization with the biblically based Christian principles cited by the anti-BGLO contingent. These goals, drawn from the black cultural experience and white secret societies from which African Americans were previously banned, were adapted and reworked for the sociopolitical context of black people in their struggle against racism. As has been illustrated in this article and other literature, the influence of black and white secret societies was manifest in the black Greek movement of the twentieth century. These ideals yet guide the trajectory of BGLOs. Irrespective of the inevitable question about the degree to which any of these organizations fully live up to their ideals—a question implicit or explicit in the critique of BGLOs—the fact remains that these ideals represent standards that are invoked and pursued by these organizations. They represent a constellation of values to which these organizations, however imperfectly, aspire. While Christian anti-BGLO critics may argue BGLOs do not live in accordance to the principles for which they were founded—and may be partially correct—the same can be said for any organization or entity in which humans participate, including the church, founded by Jesus Christ. Church history is replete with crusades to win “holy wars” against Muslims, the banishment of Jews from Spain, the effort to validate the enslavement and segregation of Africans on biblical and theological assumptions, and support of the social initiative to encourage or coerce the sifting of the diverse cultural and religious traditions of eastern Europeans into a white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant melting-pot during the massive immigration movement between 1880 and 1920. These actions represent another set of instances in which there was clear separation between the practice of Christianity and what Howard Thurman called “the religion of Jesus.”26 The religion of Jesus affirmed love, forgiveness, interrelated human community, the right ordering of relations (justice) and right relations between human beings and between humans and God (righteousness). The ethical gap between what is and what ought to be, between ideals and the real, between

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aspiration and implementation, represents the creative tension with which all humans live and struggle. Clearly, there is an ethical gap between the righteousness espoused by anti-BGLO persons and some of the methods they use to pursue their agenda. One such method is their citations of portions of what they allege are the secret rituals of the Divine Nine organizations on the World Wide Web.27 The public posting of the alleged private information of these organizations against their will is a fundamental violation of integrity and ethics. Opposition to BGLOs is a choice that may be exercised freely by those who hold such conviction. However, it is difficult if not impossible to claim moral and ethical high ground—allegedly exposing BGLOs in the service of Jesus Christ—while at the same time violating the integrity of these organizations by making public secret rituals held dear by their members, simply to prove a point. Martin Luther King Jr.—a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity—said the means one uses (e.g., in the pursuit of truth) must adhere with one’s ends (truth) because the ends are inherent in the means.28 Illegitimate means are not justified by presumably legitimate ends.

Conclusion Some BGLO members may rightly discern that they are unable to be both Christian and Greek. Certainly, there are some Christians who, rather than agents of influence, become themselves unduly influenced by the non-Christian culture around them. This most certainly happens among BGLO members just as it happens among non-Greek Christians. The struggle to resist idolatry and to remain faithful to the cause of Christ is age old and is not limited to BGLO members. Jesus’ frequent and repeated criticisms of the religious leaders of his day make clear that even today’s staunchest Christians and most exalted religious leaders are not immune. Yet, both Jesus and Paul express that the way to faithfulness is not to forego contact with “outsiders,” as anti-BGLO activists may claim. Moreover, it must be remembered that the weaknesses in faith and vulnerabilities to idolatry people have are as individual and varied as are the people, and the same applies to the actions that need to be taken to maintain faithfulness. Thus, the view that the personal actions some need to take—for example, renouncing BGLO membership—are mandatory for everyone is flawed, as is the maligning of BGLOs as a whole due to the difficulties and weaknesses of a few. While BGLOs were founded on Christian principles and for many provide a means to live out their commitment to Christ, the fact remains that individuals animate these organizations and the credit for faithfulness or blame for faithlessness lies with individuals, not organizations.


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Irrespective of whatever Christian influence may have shaped (or continue to shape) black fraternities and sororities, such organizations are not religious entities. Hence, they should not be judged negatively for what they are: secular entities that pose no threat to faith. While the interpretation of the meaning of these organizations by their members may reflect a type of faith in the Tillichean sense of the term, it is a matter of personal interpretation, not organizational flaw. Nor do these organizations serve their communities primarily animated by Christian principles. Such motivation may be operative in individual Christian members of these organizations, coupled with fraternal and sorority commitment. Nonetheless, a cursory reading of the publicly available histories of these organizations and an emerging BGLO scholarship clearly illustrates Christian influences in the service orientation of black fraternities and sororities. It is unfortunate that the critics of black Greek-letter organizations are unable to come to grips with that history or spend their efforts in a more productive fashion by focusing on more pressing contemporary challenges facing black communities. The inability of these critics to engage in the holistic work of personal and social transformation illustrates a failure to take seriously the incisive caveat of Martin King: “any religion that professes to be concerned about the souls of men and is not concerned about the social and economic conditions that scar the soul is a spiritually moribund religion only waiting for the day to be buried. It has been well said: ‘A religion that ends with the individual ends.’”29 At their best, BGLOs, through their community service to improve the black condition, may represent a more legitimate application of the values of faith than the actions of members of the faith communities that castigate them. Notes 1. Clyde Sanfred Johnson, Fraternities in Our Colleges (New York: National Interfraternity Foundation, 1972), 218, is an example of the fact that the anti-Christian argument is not new. 2. In a 2005 podcast from Milwaukee, former Alpha Kappa Alpha soror Gail Gray hosted a three-part series “to discuss several Biblical contradictions regarding ‘Greek’ societies” (http://gailgray.podbean.com/). Also see the blogsite on the Web site of “The Impact Movement,” an organization focused on developing Christian discipleship among African American college students, for an interesting debate regarding BGLO membership (http://www.impactmovement.com/apps/messageboard/default.asp?cat egoryid=124&replyid=608). Finally, the Web site of minister Fred Hatchett, a former member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity, is also representative of the anti-BGLO movement (www.dontgogreek.com/). 3. See Jameka Merriweather, “Is Greek Life Incompatible with Christianity?” Black College Wire (http://www.blackcollegewire.org/studentlife/070622_greek-christianity/).

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4. What is apparent, from a cursory review of anti-BGLO writings in print and writings/podcasts on the World Wide Web, is that their polemics reflect the beliefs of persons who may also be in embryonic and/or literalist stages of Christian faith. This appears to be the case with the interviewee on Gail Gray’s podcast, who is a former member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority (http://gailgray.podbean.com/). 5. Gregory S. Parks and Tamara L. Brown, “In the Fell Clutch of Circumstance: Pledging and the Black Greek Experience,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Gregory S. Parks, Tamara L. Brown, and Clarenda M. Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005), 451. 6. We developed the survey in Survey Monkey, an online survey engine that formats surveys and collects data confidentially via the Internet. 7. Data from these and other national studies are summarized in Robert Joseph Taylor, Linda M. Chatters, and Jeff Levin, Religion in the Lives of African Americans: Social, Psychological, and Health Perspectives (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage Publications, 2004), 13–14. The statistics quoted in this chapter can be found on pages 33–36 of this landmark book. 8. Ibid., 13–14. 9. C. E. Lincoln and L. H. Mamiya, The Black Church in the African American Experience (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1990). 10. Taylor, Chatters, and Levin, Religion in the Lives of African Americans, 57. Other researchers who have made this point as well include Marc Musick, John Wilson, and William Bynum Jr., “Race and Formal Volunteering: The Differential Effects of Class and Religion,” Social Forces 78 (2000): 1539–71, and Jacqueline Mattis, Kimberly Hearn, and Robert Japers, “Religiosity, Communalism and Volunteerism among African American Men: An Exploratory Analysis,” Journal of Community Psychology 28 (2002): 391–406. 11. The renowned student development specialist Arthur Levine highlighted the existential shifts impacting contemporary college student life in a message delivered at Cornell University’s Sage Chapel in October 2006: the pervasive collapse of nuclear families; the testimony of many young adults that they have never witnessed a successful romantic relationship among older adults; distrust of social institutions such as government and churches, regardless of ideological leanings; the sense among young people that they are the inheritors of massive social and political problems from their parents’ generation that they cannot ignore; “the launching of lone individuals into cyberspace by way of their computers”; and an all-encompassing consumer culture offering an endless stream of products. These shifts have influenced and fed a wandering, seeker spirituality of students who choose among many religious options. Student self-descriptions of themselves as spiritual as opposed to religious connote the idea of a quest, a journey, something not yet completed. See Arthur W. Levine, “Tikkun Olam,” sermon delivered at Cornell University, Sage Chapel [cassette], October 29, 2006, and Conrad Cherry, Betty DeBerg, and Amanda Porterfield, Religion on Campus: What Religion Really Means to Today’s College Students (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2001), 275. 12. The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume XI (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 2000), 104. 13. Bruce J. Maline and Richard L. Rohrbaugh, Social Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels (Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress Press, 2003), 154–55. 14. These are excerpts from a sermon preached by the Reverend Peter Littleford on September 16, 2001, entitled “Jesus’ Attitude to Sinners.” This sermon can be found in its entirety at http://www.thisischurch.com/sermon/sinners.htm.


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15. Reference is made throughout this chapter to the fraternity affiliation of several theologians and ministers cited as references. These are or were persons of faith, religiously based social activists, scholars and/or scholarly pastors who exemplify the fact that Christian faith and fraternal affiliation can coexist. Their ministerial contributions and cumulative, publicly accessible written record will not reveal polytheistic leanings due to fraternal membership. Rather, one will find theological and spiritual insights grounded in sound Christian spirituality and scholarship informed by the black religious, cultural, and sociopolitical experience. 16. Sheldon R. Gawiser and G. Evans Witt, A Journalist’s Guide to Public Opinion Polls (Santa Barbara, Calif.: Greenwood Publishing Group, 1994), 111. 17. The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. XI, 104. 18. Dr. James H. Evans Jr., Class Lecture, Third World Theologies, Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School, Fall 1985. Dr. Evans, also president emeritus of the Divinity School and a pastor in Rochester, New York, is a member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity. 19. Intellectualism can refer to rigorous scholarly engagement but in its most basic sense may be best defined by Malcolm X. Malcolm described a type of critical thinking, accessible to grassroots persons and scholars as the capacity to “See for yourself, listen for yourself, think for yourself.” Malcolm X, Malcolm X Speaks to Young People (New York: Pathfinder Press, 1993), 48–82. 20. Howard Thurman, member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity and a visionary cleric, theologian, and mystic of the twentieth century, illustrates how the division between religion and life permit racism to flourish. During a 1935–36 visit to India, Thurman was told by one of the hosts of his visit that the host read an article reporting the dismissal of a worship service by a congregation in the southern United States to join a lynch mob hunting for a black man. After the man was lynched the church resumed its worship. Thurman replied by making “a careful distinction between Christianity”—which in this instance of lynching was indistinguishable from white supremacy—“and the religion of Jesus,” which “projected a creative solution to the pressing problem of survival for the minority of which he was a part in the Greco-Roman world.” Howard Thurman, With Head and Heart: The Autobiography of Howard Thurman (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1979), 114. 21. This worldview reflects a West African religio-cultural retention in black American life, indicative of the integration of religion and life. West African religious and philosophical systems assume that one is born into religion and that the whole of one’s existence is religious. Sacred and secular are not separate but interrelated realities. Dr. Lewis V. Baldwin, class lecture, Historical and Theological Dimensions of the Black Experience, Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School, January 17, 1984, and Harold A. Carter, The Prayer Tradition of Black People (Valley Forge, Pa.: Judson Press, 1976), 24–57. Dr. Baldwin, now on the religious studies faculty at Vanderbilt University, is a member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity; Dr. Carter, pastor of New Shiloh Baptist Church in Baltimore, is a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity. 22. Jesus refers to himself as “the light of the world” in John 8:12 and John 9:5. AntiBGLO adherents would perceive Alpha Phi Alpha’s use of that term as a symbolic selfreference as supplanting the claim of Jesus and therefore reflective of idolatry. 23. See Robert M. Franklin, Crisis in the Village: Restoring Hope in African American Communities (Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress Augsburg Press, 2006), especially ch. 2, “Churches: A Crisis of Mission.”

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24. Cornel West, The Cornel West Reader (New York: Basic Civitas Books, 1999), 295. 25. See Paul Tillich, Dynamics of Faith (New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1957), particularly 1–41. 26. Thurman, With Head and Heart, 114. 27. An example of the use of citations, allegedly from rituals of BGLOs, is found on minister Fred Hatchett’s Web site, http//www.dontgogreek.com/. 28. Clayborne Carson, ed., The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr. (New York: Warner Books, 1998), 20. 29. Clayborne Carson, ed., The Papers of Martin Luther King, Jr., Volume IV: Symbol of the Movement, January 1957–December 1958 (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2000), 474.

Chapter Four Commentary Corey D. B. Walker

The dawning of the twenty-first century has been met with a resurgence of religion on a global scale. Questions such as the increasing secularization of modern societies and the diminished influence of religion in public life have been replaced by inquiries into the seemingly exponential growth, diffusion, and persistence of religious practices, ideas, and rituals. The permanence of religion not only exposes the gaps and silences of heretofore dominant theoretical frameworks and methodological assumptions, but also forces new questions about culture and politics, conceptions of the political, and forms of solidarity. In the United States, the resurgence of religion is made infinitely more complex in light of the historical and contemporary social, political, and intellectual protocols of race. The imbrication of race and religion confronts scholars with significant intellectual challenges in comprehending the institutional and ideological arrangements of American democracy. In order to come to grips with these manifold challenges, scholars must unravel the intricate logics and technologies of race and religion. The complex associational ecology of African American social and civic life represents one of the most opportune areas to investigate the interactions between race and religion. To be sure, the mix of African American civic associations, professional societies, religious institutions, and cultural groups represent not only a diverse panoply of civic life, but also a critical space in civil society to develop, define, and refine various social and political ideas and ideologies. The various associations developed by African Americans not only confront the contradictions of the American experiment with democracy, but also the contestations within African America over questions of political tactics and strategy, social and cultural ideology, and moral and political philosophy. It is within this richly complex milieu where African American collegiate fraternal groups have confronted competing claims regarding the religious character of these organizations. To some, the ritual practices and moral languages used by these organizations to describe their mission, frame their 91

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organizational structure, and articulate their cultural and political visions are ambiguous with respect to the specific doctrines of organized religion in general and Christianity in particular. While these fraternal groups—like a great many fraternal organizations in America—have been influenced by religious ideas, languages, and institutions, the less than direct and absolute reflection of particular religious tenets has lead some critics to charge these organizations as being antireligious. The antireligious charge has gained increasing attention in light of the pivotal role of organized religion in the African American life and culture and the resurgence of the presence of religion in American public life. As questions of race and religion continue to challenge American society, so too will they continue to test the protean diversity within and among African American collegiate fraternal organizations. Indeed, nothing less should be expected within the complex and contested space that is civil society.

Part III

The Gender Politics of Black Fraternalism


5. Becoming Men in Burning Sands Student Identity, Masculinity, and Image Construction in Black Greek-Letter Collegiate Fraternities T. Elon Dancy II

Across college campuses, African American men who gather in crowds, groups, assemblies, and organizations like fraternities frequently draw interest and suspicion and often face questioning from nonblack “Others.”1 Many African American college men are no strangers to these anxieties associated with such scrutiny. Before African American men join collegiate fraternities, they may serve as a source of bewilderment for many student peers, faculty, and staff.2 As these men move within and between collegiate spaces, nonblacks often perceive them with a combination of fear and desire, envying their physical abilities but sanctioning their behaviors.3 As African American fraternity men frequently evoke in others a similar sense of fear and admiration as that attributed to African American gang members, their perceived and proclaimed identities merit further examination.4 Periodicals like the New York Times consistently and pathologically construct African American male identities as “endangered,” “dangerous,” or “in crisis.”5 As a result, stories about the collegiate experiences of African American men in black Greek-letter fraternities (BGLFs) are eclipsed by media pundits’ coverage of African American boys with disciplinary issues and/or African American men in “ghettos” and prisons. Meanwhile, researchers avoid the study of African American fraternity men, choosing instead to focus on the cognitive maladjustment and disengagement of African American boys and men in school and collegiate contexts.6 While in college, many African American men join BGLFs, perceiving these organizations as meaningful outlets by which one gains cultural connections, support, as well as self, social, and civic awareness. Membership in collegiate fraternities generally facilitates social and academic engagement in college.7 Research reveals that membership in collegiate fraternities contributes 95

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to stronger racial identities.8 In fraternities, African American men have the opportunity to engage with other African American men and develop meaningful relationships built from a collective commitment to community and campus service. As Walter Kimbrough describes, BGLFs work to clarify the social, economic, and political issues that challenge African Americans in college and across communities.9 BGLFs aspire to make their members better men from the moment the fraternity initiation process begins.10 Meanwhile, colleges largely perceive fraternities as “party organizations” although positive outcomes are associated with fraternity membership.11 In today’s milieu, there are emerging questions regarding the intersection between college-enrolled African American men’s identities and masculinity, especially as this population is influenced by colleges and the sociocultural spaces of BGLFs. The purpose of this chapter is fourfold: (1) to map the broader literature pertaining to student identity development as it informs the college experiences of African American men in BGLFs; (2) to map the parameters of masculine identities as these identities provide institutions of higher education and fraternities with additional and more fulsome lens through which both the collegiate environment and choices of African American men can be interpreted and understood; (3) to highlight findings from year-long research conducted on African American men in fraternities in the extant literature; and (4) to offer new directions for how colleges and BGLFs can shape the construction of African American men’s identities as both students and African American men.12

Student Development of African American College Men in BGLFs: A Brief Context At best, BGLFs confer tremendous feelings of accomplishment and belonging upon members, while at worst, they present their members with deleterious challenges such as emotional and physical stress or trauma, cognitive issues, and sociocultural policing.13 Faculty, administrators, and other college personnel often reference and integrate an understanding of student identity development into conversations about African American college men in BGLFs. Conversations about the masculine identities of African American men in BGLFs are often pushed to the periphery in the higher education literature. Collegiate personnel therefore miss valuable insight into a more complete understanding of this group’s identity, choices, and movements. The complex experiences of African American men in collegiate BGLFs require a more powerful, multifocal lens through which to view the ways this group of students is perceived and addressed in college. Investigating issues of masculinity alongside the formation of student identity sharpens and focuses this lens.

Identity, Masculinity, and Image Construction

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Extant research and scholarship on student identity development in college argue that membership in student organizations and extracurricular activities benefit African American students’ collegiate experiences.14 Since the inception of collegiate BGLOs in 1906, fraternities have sought to foster a sense of collective social support, collegiate engagement, and life purpose in members.15 As BGLFs proliferated, like other Greek-letter and student organizations, they exposed members to experiences that positively impacted members’ academic and cognitive outcomes.16 Students belonging to BGLFs assume a unique place in the college student organization landscape. One characteristic that distinguishes BGLFs from other collegiate student organizations is that membership in the governing body of BGLOs, the National Pan-Hellenic Council, is lifelong. 17 Thus, the potential for building a lifelong reputation nuances what it means to be an African American member of a fraternity. Fraternity membership may anchor a great deal of an individual’s student life as well as his social engagement after college. Scholars also find that African American men often think about or become differently influenced by BGLF membership across historically both black and white collegiate contexts.18 These pressures powerfully shape both student identity and student experiences in ways that contribute to successful or maladaptive academic achievement and collegiate engagement.19 For decades, scholarly inquiry rarely focused on African American college students’ identity development. The following text traces how much student identity research loosely applies to African American college students, requiring additional theorizing and empirical work about these students’ psychosocial and cognitive identities. These identities, and the experiences of African American male collegians who belong to BGLFs, are often interpreted through these traditionally used lenses. Widely accepted research on college student identity development sought to understand the factors that shape a healthy student identity.20 These works posit stages and dimensions through which the identity development of African American fraternity collegians may be loosely understood. For example, Arthur Chickering and L. Reisser theorize that student identity is developed in seven stages, or vectors. These vectors serve as parameters of identity development, or more specifically, student thinking, feeling, believing, and relating to others.21 According to Chickering and Reisser, students move through the seven vectors at different rates, and vectors interact and challenge one another, bringing students to places of reexamination or reconsideration of how they think, feel, believe, and relate.22 The vectors include (1) developing competency (confidence in one’s abilities), (2) managing emotions (tempering aggressions like anger and sex), (3) moving through autonomy toward interdependence (independence and dependence on others besides parents), (4) developing mature interpersonal relationships (ability to interact with culturally diverse others),

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(5) establishing identity (developing sense of self, often inwardly known and outwardly apparent), (6) developing purpose (development of plans and organization of priorities), and (7) developing integrity (a set of beliefs that guide behavior). Other traditional student development theories describe processes in which students enhance and improve intellect, ethics, morality, ego, and knowledge. These theories further describe the ways in which individuals change or respond in various environments.23 Another student development theory, Perry’s Scheme of Intellectual and Ethical Development, offers nine domains that describe the ways in which humans assign value to the world around them. The domains include “dualism modified” (knowledge is absolute and known to authorities), “relativism discovered” (knowledge is relative and contextual), and “commitments in relativism developed” (developing specific commitments and establishing identities in a world in which there are many ideas, values, and norms). However, student development theories do not completely dominate conversations about how to best serve African American Greek-letter or nonGreek-letter men. When paired with other widely cited research that considers students’ achievement, and involvement, student development theory offers a compelling explanation for how many faculty, administrators, and policy makers view college students’ experiences.24 These additional lines of research identify five primary influences on college students’ identity development: (1) students’ characteristics prior to enrollment, (2) environmental norms and values, (3) students’ academic experiences, (4) students’ social experiences, and (5) the interactions of these influences. Despite significant research on the identity-shaping processes of the general college student, such research is comparatively scant in terms of collegiate African American males. Few studies examine how influences shape the psyche of African American men and correlate with the norms and values unique to various college environments, and more specifically to BGLFs within colleges.25 Scholars therefore argue that thinking about African American college men’s identity development through the theoretical lenses discussed above are insufficient when attempting to serve African American college men.26 Mary Howard-Hamilton, citing M. K. McEwen and colleagues, highlights nine dimensions that must be applied or considered, when existing or developing student development paradigms reference African American male collegians.27 The following nine dimensions, posited to inform the interactive work of collegiate personnel, include (1) ethnic and racial identity is developed, referencing literature on African self-consciousness development, (2) interactions with the dominant culture take shape, (3) cultural aesthetics become assigned and awareness shaped, (4) a unique identity is developed/enhanced, (5) interdependence is developed, (6) unique social affiliation needs are fulfilled, (7)


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intellectual survival is developed, (8) spirituality is developed, and (9) social responsibility is developed. Howard-Hamilton’s work recognizes a need for more culturally grounded student identity development theories. She offers a synthesis of theoretical approaches that facilitate a clear understanding of student identity development among African American men enrolled in college.28 This work includes four theories that, either independently or with modification, may prove useful in enhancing the student development of African American men who also may be or may become collegiate fraternity members. The first of these theories, Cross’s Nigrescence Theory, is widely utilized in research to explain and describe the steps through which African Americans internalize racial identity.29 The second theory, Robinson and Howard-Hamilton’s Africentric Resistance Model, combines Africentric (connection with/knowledge of an individual’s cultural, racial, and historical roots) paradigms with resistance modality paradigms. Resistance modality paradigms describe the psychological and personal resistance to constructs (i.e., stereotypes) that potentially threaten one’s personal growth, perception of self, and sense of community.30 Erikson’s (1980) Identity Development Model, the third theoretical framework, identifies phases, or psychosocial crises, of a socialization process that transition individuals from childhood to adulthood.31 Last, Bandura’s (1977) Social Learning Model depicts how individuals observe and model the behaviors, attitudes, and emotional reactions of others according to sundry sources of stimuli.32 Juxtaposing more culturally sensitive theoretical frameworks with traditional models of student development and involvement reveals a clearer understanding of the best ways to serve African American college men.33 Despite such developments, challenges to serving African American men in BGLFs persist in the realm of higher education for two main reasons: (1) student identity development, racial identity development, and psychosocial development largely dominate conversations about the development of African American male collegians, which fundamentally ignores masculine identity development, and (2) groups of African American men in college, like BGLFs, often form group-wide identities that require additional understanding for higher education to serve them more effectively. Shareholders in higher education miss salient opportunities to serve African American men in BGLOs when they reference only student development or “blackness” development but neglect gender (and the different ways in which race and gender intersect with class, spirituality, and sexual orientation). Meanwhile, groups of African American men like those in BGLFs, articulate rules for thinking, being, and doing. These effectively engender and solidify borders between themselves and the colleges in which they are situated. These in turn define masculine parameters that potentially inform African American men choices, experiences, and outcomes in college. The following section examines this more closely.

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(Patho)Logical Constructions of Masculinity and Image in Collegiate Black Fraternities The changing gender identities, how gender is perceived, and the meanings ascribed to and negotiated by African American men demand attention.34 Unlike one’s sex which is biological, gender is shaped in men and women in their social interactions with others.35 Conversely, sex refers to chromosomal patterns resulting in the presence of organs that labels one male or female.36 In other words, male is biological, and man is sociological. Subsequently, masculinity refers to how one behaves, performs, or otherwise enacts one’s gender.37 Moreover, men possess a kind of “gender capital,” which can be understood as “the value afforded [to] contextually relevant presentations of gendered selves. It is interactionally defined and negotiated. Thus, gender capital—similar to both cultural capital and hegemonic masculinity—is in a state of continuous (though often subtle) transformation.”38 As a man moves within and between social spaces, his own gendered construction and its behavioral extensions (masculinity) are informed, shaped, affirmed, and contested by those around him. Fraternities, particularly BGLFs, provide compelling locales for research on the construction of masculine identities.39 Men who join fraternities typically establish a sense of brotherhood, forge deep connections, and build camaraderie with other men.40 Though the link between fraternity membership and the development of strong familial ties between men are clearly articulated across most fraternity literature, and more or less echoed by fraternity member testimony and behavior, BGLFs are unique in the American fraternal world. These groups emerged as “[responses] and [contestations] to white privilege, racism, and elitism” in American society.41 In collegiate environments, as in society, normative gender ideals that dictate what men (and women) are supposed to be, become, think, and do are policed according to cultural scripts that contour social interactions and sanctions those who fail to align their behaviors with these scripts. African American men’s race marginalizes them; African American people are often underprivileged and disenfranchised relative to whites. In response, African American men are increasingly instructed by urban community and culture-focused programs to act in ways deemed more Afrocentric.42 The socially constructed ideals of African American manhood demand masculine behaviors reflective of those ideals (behavior code). Robert Rhoads characterizes the behavior code concept as “cultural borders” and writes that cultural borders divide people and separate “us” from “them.”43 He adds that these same borders enable individuals to connect or identify with others in similar positions.


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Cultural borders inform a rigid and hegemonic masculine blueprint guiding how BGLF members relate, interact, and engage one another, other African Americans, and other non-BGLF individuals. Hegemonic masculinity refers to the behaviors, performances, and actions reflecting the ideals of patriarchy— domination of men and subordination of women.44 Hegemonic masculinity, for example, may reflect the following types of thinking: (1) homophobia or the fear or hatred of gay, bisexual, or transgender (GBT) men, (2) devaluing femininity, (3) increasing masculine bravado, and (4) claiming masculine space within spaces deemed feminine or feminized.45 Fraternities often encourage men to treat women as sexual objects in order to affirm heterosexuality; conversely, this message threatens the establishment of true intimacy between fraternity men and women.46 Accordingly, African American men face difficulty expressing their vulnerabilities, grievances, and emotions in the fraternal contexts that purport to offer a space for safe expression of these emotions.47 Channels for African American men’s emotional constructions are often underground in keeping with social demands that men conceal their emotions.48 One perspective Lyman offers is that the ways in which men communicate in fraternities resemble joking.49 Joking refers to the indirect expressions “of the emotions and tensions of everyday life by ‘negotiating’ them, reconstituting group solidarity by shared aggression, and cathartic laughter.”50 According to P. Lyman, joking relationships between men materialize contexts for acceptable vulnerability. Lyman argues that joking paralyzes men’s orthodox rules and responsibilities of everyday life relative to the intimate male bonding in fraternities. Lyman adds that men in fraternities use joking relationships to create a serial and “safe” intimacy through which they negotiate any hidden tension or aggression they feel toward one another. Lyman concludes that joking relationships (e.g., banter, sexual humor, lewd demonstrations) among men provide socially acceptable spaces for men to disclose personal thoughts and foster emotional closeness. Men may also employ joking to evade confrontations in which their masculinity is questioned (e.g., “Man, I was just playing. You actually believed me?”). This behavior serves as a coping mechanism and also fulfills men’s socialized desire to be perceived as “cool” by their fellow fraternity members.51 Because Lyman’s study minimally focuses on African American men specifically, it therefore incompletely captures the complex struggle to construct a fraternal masculinity in a collegiate BGLF context.52 In Black Haze, Ricky L. Jones posits that African American fraternity men participate in ritualized aggression with one another to shape and define masculine identity among aspiring members. Fraternity rituals, which are largely similar to ancient sacred rituals in civilizations like Africa, the Orient, and Greece, work to solidify individual and collective black male identity.53 BGLFs also endorse an ideal image of African American men as in control, unemotional, and

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invulnerable. Furthermore, African American men in BGLFs are pressured to adapt to a four-dimensional model of masculinity that is (1) “cool” (postures or gestures of calmness and detachedness particularly in anxious moments), (2) “hard” (hypermasculine and aloof), (3) “down” (defending issues, realities, and concerns across African American communities), and (4) “real” (culturally authentic to a social construction that is “black” and “man”).54 Much of the work in this chapter finds this rigid model of masculinity connected to the histories of social exclusion and racism in America. Contemporary conceptions of idealized masculinity in BGLFs are not far removed from the historical constructions of African American men as “beasts,” “bucks,” and “sambos.”55 A belief system that is collectively articulated in this way often valorizes, rewards, and reveres the salience of violence and struggle, and conversely sanctions and punishes docility and nonviolence. Such is the dynamic of fraternity hazing.56 At the same time, the public creates little difference in meaningfully distinguishing between “unacceptable” groups of African American men (e.g., gangs) and “acceptable” groups of African American men (e.g., fraternities).57 In both groups, fraternal manhood is defined and solidified through the expression of verbal and physical violence.58 The literature on BGLFs appears to indicate that BGLFs expose aspiring members to rituals that are historically rooted in tribal rites of passage from boy to manhood.59 Jones’s work adds necessary nuance to this argument, suggesting that African American men bring an authentic self (their core identity) to a fraternity that uses rituals to imbue these men with a sense of fraternal self. Following initiation, the fraternity claims that its members are better men, or in other words, learners of lessons focused on developing men who are socially respected, admired, and desired. BGLFs often use father figure symbolism, as coined by Jones, to make men better.60 The father figure symbolism represents a masculine ideal that members of fraternities (the “fathers”) ritualistically present in front of aspiring members (the “sons”). Such rituals include elements of tension, hostility, and pressure to aid the “father’s” facilitation of his “son’s” journey toward this masculine ideal. These tensions, hostilities, and pressures reach their culmination in which father and son embrace each other as brothers.61 Jones elaborates, The premise of these [fraternity rituals] is that even in life, fathers discipline their sons to “show them the correct way to live,” and fraternities attempt to create this dynamic. The fatherly discipline often becomes physically violent in the black case because, as we have seen, this is the only way that many black men felt they could assert some measure of power and prove themselves as men.62

Nonheterosexual African American men negotiate membership in fraternities with extreme caution. Fraternity men perceive homosexuality and


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bisexuality as threats to fraternity men’s social status because they associate with weakness and immorality and represent social and sexual vulnerability.63 Ironically, recent research finds similarities of many fraternity practices and the practices of sexually diverse cultures.64 In Black Greek 101, Walter Kimbrough interrogates scholarship regarding nonheterosexual American men who join BGLFs. Kimbrough argues that nonheterosexual African American men largely join fraternities for the same reasons heterosexual men do: they seek friendship, social activities, and a sense of belonging.65 Nonheterosexual men may also use fraternity membership to disguise or conceal their sexual orientation, as they fear social sanctioning.66 Research reveals that nonheterosexual men work with extra tenacity within fraternities.67 D. Case found that fraternity members who identified themselves to the researcher as homosexual were high achievers, with 80 percent of the sample holding executive-level positions within their chapters, and 20 percent holding the office of president.68 Kimbrough reemphasizes Case’s position that many sexually diverse men may possess tendencies to overachieve, lead, and adopt pleasing postures as a coping mechanism.

BGLFs: Influences, Perspectives, and Contexts on Manhood and Masculinity A study recently emerged that connects the work this chapter reviews.69 In recent work, Dancy merged the theoretical power of three race-constructing and gender-constructing theories with collegiate engagement and experience theory to investigate how African American male collegians who also held membership in a collegiate BGLF constructed their masculinity. Using a threefold qualitative research approach, Dancy conducted rigorous analysis to more acutely understand the lived experiences of these men. More specifically, face-to-face interviews were conducted to gather data from twenty-four traditional college-aged (eighteen to twenty-four) African American men who were members of a black Greek-letter collegiate fraternity. Average interviews lasted over two hours, and the interview instrument was comprised of over thirty-three multidimensional questions on masculine identity, fraternity, and college life. Questions about the influence of the fraternity were asked directly. For example, participants responded to the following question, “In what ways does your membership in a fraternity influence you as a man? How were you drawn to this fraternity?” Dancy interviewed men from twelve 4-year colleges located across the nineteen southern and border states of the United States.70 More specifically, Dancy selected the twelve institutional sites according to Carnegie Commission classification as doctorate-level, masters-level, and baccaulaureate-level, historical and predominant student population (HBCUs and HWIs), and institutional

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funding (public, private). Research site selections resulted in a four-collegesper-Carnegie classification matrix. In short, membership in a BGLF fundamentally shapes African American men’s construction of masculine identity.71 Specifically, the Dancy study reveals several ways in which fraternity influences conceptions of manhood and masculinity: (1) community connectedness (2) discovering individual and cultural purpose and (3) stereotypical images. Community connectedness emerged as a prominent theme across the interviews. The importance men placed on community engagement echoes historical emphasis African American males placed on community. Community patriarchy refers to the posture African American men historically adopted during the Reconstruction era; they provided for the families of the sick or saviors of the indigent in the broader, nonfraternal African American community.72 Most of the men Dancy studied agreed that the fraternity increased their autonomy, indulged their imaginative tendencies, and exposed them to experiences that clarified their understanding of their life purposes.73 Many African American men explain that fraternity membership gave them a more Afrocentric view of American society.74 Dancy argues that this perspective not only influences many African American men’s perspectives on community connectedness but also shapes their broader sociocultural understanding about the African American people, and at times, the African diaspora. Participants in the study insisted that fraternity membership shaped, or aided in shaping, their interest in “learning about their culture” or “respecting past struggles.”75 In many BGLFs, African American men learn how to strengthen, elevate, articulate, and contextualize African American people’s history and trials within American society. Lastly, many African American men in black Greek-letter fraternities feel stereotyped as hyperaggressive, hypersexual, and violent, and believe that these perceptions become more prominent after initiation.76 In Dancy’s work, many African American BGLF men felt pressure to conform to popular media portrayals of African American men (e.g., rap artists, athletes, criminals) that the African American community believes epitomize masculinity. Such masculine constructions often counter the identities they are trying to construct as African American men in college. Pressures to conform to socially constructed expectations of African American men complicated men’s ability to develop healthy images of masculinity. Many African American BGLF men posit that society views African American men as both oppressors and oppressed.77 Dancy’s study highlights the ways in which African American fraternity men’s masculinity is often engaged in an ideological tug-of-war between Afrocentric models of masculinity; a white-articulated model of capitalism, and present-day urban models more or less emergent from historical, dehumanizing, and constrained stereotypes about African American men. This study’s


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findings reinforce those of other studies about African American men who join BGLFs.78 The study further highlights the incarcerating nature of BGLF’s construction of masculinity and deconstructs how masculinity gains meaning within familial, community, cultural, and collegiate arenas. Paradoxically, the African American men who participated in the Dancy study admit they lack control over the sociocultural beliefs that dictate masculine constructions. However, most of them are aware of the ways in which others enact, criticize, and contest masculinities in African American fraternal contexts, collegiate institutions, and beyond. Additionally, analyses of participant narratives that span geographic regions and institutional contexts add lenses for investigation that are often missing from scholarship on African American men in BGLFs.

Conclusion This chapter argues that fraternities play a seminal role in constructing masculine identities for many African American men. Related empirical scholarship by Kimbrough, Jones, and McClure augment and reinforce Dancy’s findings. Each study describes the unique pressures thrust upon African American men in BGLFs. The Kimbrough, Jones, and McClure studies point to largely racialized cultural tensions that college-enrolled African American BGLF members negotiate in the construction of masculine identities. The commitment to prevalent issues and significant conversations about the African American community is also largely identified by these studies.79 Dancy’s three-pronged qualitative analysis also highlights the nuanced experiences, influences, and contexts to address empirical questions about manhood, masculinity, and college fraternities. In turn, Dancy establishes a more holistic framework to guide thinking in these areas. Dancy also offers a multidimensional perspective into the interactions between African American men as they foster fraternal, friendship, fathering, mothering, and other relationships. All-male support affirms many African American men in BGLFs who feel they need a private masculine space to share intimate conversations in a society that otherwise oppresses such expressions.80 These conversations and relationships positively influence African American men’s personal growth, practical competency, and life trajectory.81 Many African American men in BGLFs articulate being perceived as campus celebrities but cite pressures to fulfill traditional ideals of masculinity.82 At all times, many African American men perceive expectations to be physically strong, intelligent, and athletic (in reality or in appearance), and to provide leadership, entertainment, and quiet emotional strength to their families and their communities. Media-produced images of African American men, others in the African American community, and traditional fraternity masculine “standards” shape

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these expectations of African American men, particularly those in black Greekletter fraternities. These expectations are often rooted in monolithic models of manhood and masculinity. There is no place in the collegiate atmosphere for the myriad stereotypes that demand that BGLF members conform to stereotypical ideals. Such stereotypes only fuel the divisiveness that African American men in this study perceive between fraternities, organizations, and others. These stereotypes include but are not limited to former gang member, soft, hard, hypersexual and sexually endowed, nerd, sell-out, dangerous, pimp, athlete, player, stupid, lazy, criminal, thug, or, as many interviewees in recent work describe, collegiate thugs.83 Fraternity membership needs to broaden and diversify the images of acceptable masculinity that are lauded within African American communities. An African American man who constructs masculinity in orthodox ways (e.g., being emotionless, cool, no “sissy stuff ”) is not necessarily a “brother’s brother” because he is a “man’s man” (see Dancy’s work). BGLFs may benefit from individuals who engage different activities, bring different pre-college and family experiences, and different, sundry, and multilayered consciousnesses to college. As it stands, the fraternity is comprised of African American men who represent different masculinities. These institutions must serve, aid, and enlighten all of its members, not just some, lest others be pushed to the margins of brotherhood. BGLF members may choose to participate in institutional lecture series, “men’s sessions,” or “rap sessions,” purporting to promote honest social dialogues between African American men. These endeavors need to diversify to recognize the multiple identities of African American men. Speaker panels, which often include college personnel and students, must represent a diverse group of African American men if speaker panels are all male. These all-male programs assume critical places in college as they heighten awareness about the unique masculine, cultural, and educational issues that Greek and non-Greek African American men experience. Higher education institutions must maintain and support such programs. Other implications also emerge for college and university policy. Colleges must bring together institutional stakeholders (e.g., administrators, faculty, staff, students, and [potentially] parents) to investigate cultural tensions and work to foster a climate of inclusion. In cultural awareness workshops, open dialogues should focus not only on race, but these conversations should consider also the intersections of race, gender, sexual orientation, spirituality, skin color, and other identities and consciousnesses. Faculty, staff, student group representatives, and other students should be required to participate in such workshops. These and similar efforts must include conversations about the manhood, masculinities, and influences of the African American male group dynamic. Open and courageous dialogues about diversity must


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inform institutional conversations about recruitment, enrollment, retention, and persistence strategies. These conversations should occur often to ensure institutional accountability for and commitment to serving the needs of ever-changing institutional student populations, particularly as these involve African American men in fraternities, and potentially all African American male students, who are enrolling in and graduating from college at dire rates. Such institutional efforts work to shape worldviews more culturally open than closed. Notes 1. Matthew W. Hughey, “Brotherhood or Brothers in the ‘Hood?’ Debunking the ‘Educated Gang’ Thesis as Black Fraternity and Sorority Slander,” Race, Ethnicity, and Education 11, no. 4 (December 2008): 443–63; Matthew W. Hughey, “‘Cuz I’m Young and I’m Black and My Hat’s Real Low?’: A Critique of Black Greeks as ‘Educated Gangs,’” in Black Greek Letter Organizations in the Twenty-First Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, ed. Gregory S. Parks (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008), 385–417. 2. T. Elon Dancy and M. Christopher Brown, “Unintended Consequences: African American Male Educational Attainment and Collegiate Perceptions after Brown v. Board of Education,” American Behavioral Scientist (2008): 984–1003; T. Elon Dancy, “Boys to Men: Manhood, Masculinity, and Behavior Codes in the Education Pipeline,” in Manly Deeds and Scholarship: Strategies for the Academic and Social Development of African American Males, ed. James Earl Davis and Vernon Polite (Alexandria, Va.: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development Press, 2008). 3. James Earl Davis, “Negotiating Masculinity in College: African American Males and Academic Engagement,” paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Educational Research Association, Montreal, Canada, April 2005; Richard Majors and Janet M. Billson, Cool Pose: The Dilemmas of Black Manhood in America (New York: Lexington Books, 1992). 4. Ricky L. Jones, Black Haze: Violence, Sacrifice, and Manhood in Black Greek-Letter Fraternities (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2004); Walter Kimbrough, Black Greek 101: The Culture, Customs, and Challenges of Black Fraternities and Sororities (Madison, N.J.: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2003); Hughey, “‘Cuz I’m Young and I’m Black and My Hat’s Real Low?’” 385–417; Hughey, “Brotherhood or Brothers in the ‘Hood?’” 5. Mark Anthony Neal, New Black Man (New York: Routledge, 2005); Andrea Hunter and James Earl Davis, “Hidden Voices of Black Men: The Meaning, Structure, and Complexity of Manhood,” Journal of Black Studies 25, no. 1 (1994): 20–40. 6. James Earl Davis, “Black Boys in School: Negotiating Masculinities and Race,” in Educating Our Black Children: New Directions and Radical Approaches, ed. Richard Majors (New York: Routledge Falmer, 2001); James Earl Davis, “College in Black and White: The Academic Experiences of African American Males,” Journal of Negro Education 63, no. 4 (1994): 620–33; Vernon Polite, “When ‘at Promise’ Black Males Meet the ‘at Risk’ School System: Chaos!” in Black Sons to Mothers, ed. M. C. Brown and J. E. Davis (New York: Peter Lang, 2000).

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7. D. A. Guiffrida, “African American Student Organizations as Agents of Social Integration,” Journal of College Student Development 44 (2003): 304–19; G. D. Kuh, K. B. Douglas, J. P. Lund, and J. Ramin-Gyumek, Student Learning Outside the Classroom: Transcending Artificial Boundaries (Washington, D.C.: George Washington University Press, 1994); Shaun Harper and M. A. Wolley, “Becoming an ‘Involving College’ for African American Men: Strategies for Increasing African American Male Participation in Campus Activities,” Association of College Unions International Bulletin 70, no. 3 (2002): 16–24; E. T. Pascarella, M. Edison, E. J. Whitt, A. Nora, L. S. Hagedorn, and P. T. Terenzini, “Cognitive Effects of Greek Membership During the First Year of College,” NASPA Journal 33 (2006): 254–59; E. M. Sutton and W. M. Kimbrough, “Trends in Black Student Involvement,” NASPA Journal 39, no. 1 (Fall 2001): 30–40. 8. C. M. Taylor and Mary F. Howard-Hamilton, “Student Involvement and Racial Identity Attitudes among African American Males,” Journal of College Student Development 36, no. 4 (1995): 330–35. 9. Walter M. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101: The Culture, Customs, and Challenges of Black Fraternities and Sororities (Madison, N.J.: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2003). 10. Herman Mason, The Talented Tenth: The Founders and Presidents of Alpha (Winter Park, Fla.: Four-G Publishers, 1999); Jones, Black Haze, 2004. 11. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101, 2003. 12. The year-long research discussed later in the chapter is T. Elon Dancy, “Manhood Constructions among Engaged African American Male Collegians: Influences, Experiences, and Contexts” (Ph.D. diss., Louisiana State University, 2007). 13. Jones, Black Haze, 2004; Kimbrough, Black Greek 101, 2003. 14. M. Cuyjet, African American Men in College (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2006); Dancy and Brown, “Unintended Consequences”; Jacqueline Fleming, Blacks in College (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1984); Guiffrida, “African American Student Organizations as Agents of Social Integration”; Shaun Harper, Lauretta Byars, and T. B. Jelke, “How Greek Membership Affects College Adjustment and African American Undergraduate Student Outcomes,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and C. M. Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005); Harper and Wolley, “Becoming an “Involving College” for African American Men”; Mary Howard-Hamilton, “Theory to Practice: Applying Developmental Theories Relevant to African American Men,” in Helping African American Men Succeed in College, ed. M. Cuyjet (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1997); E. T. Pascarella and P. T. Terenzini, How College Affects Students (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1991). 15. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory Parks, and Clarenda Phillips, African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005); Lawrence Otis Graham, Our Kind of People: Inside America’s Black Upper Class (New York: HarperCollins, 1999); Shaun Harper and Frank Harris, “The Role of Black Fraternities in the African American Male Undergraduate Experience,” in African American Men in College, ed. M. Cuyjet (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2006). 16. Pascarella et al., “Cognitive Effects of Greek Membership During the First Year of College.” 17. Brown, Parks, and Phillips, African American Fraternities and Sororities.


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18. Dancy and Brown, “Unintended Consequences,” 984–1003; Harper and Harris, “The Role of Black Fraternities in the African American Male Undergraduate Experience,” 128–53. 19. Dancy and Brown, “Unintended Consequences.” 20. Alexander Astin, What Matters in College?: Four Critical Years Revisited (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1993); Arthur Chickering and L. Reisser, Education and Identity, 2nd ed. (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1993); Vincent Tinto, “Dropouts from Education: A Theoretical Synthesis of Recent Research,” Educational Research 45 (1975): 89–125. 21. Chickering and Reisser, Education and Identity. 22. Ibid. 23. J. Loevinger, Ego Development: Conceptions and Theories (San Francisco: JosseyBass, 1976); L. Kolhlberg, “Stage and Sequence: The Cognitive-Developmental Approach to Socialization,” in Handbook of Socialization Theory and Research, ed. D. A. Goslin (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1969); W. Perry, Forms of Intellectual and Ethical Development in the College Years: A Scheme (New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1970). 24. Astin, What Matters in College? 25. Mary Howard-Hamilton, “Theory to Practice: Applying Developmental Theories Relevant to African American Men,” in Helping African American Men Succeed in College, ed. M. Cuyjet (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1997), 17–30. 26. S. M. Harris, “Psychosocial Development and Black Male Masculinity: Implications for Counseling Economically Disadvantaged African American Male Adolescents,” Journal of Counseling Development 73 (1995): 279–87; Howard-Hamilton, “Theory to Practice,” 17–30; M. K. McEwen, L. D. Roper, D. R. Bryant, and M. J. Langa, “Incorporating the Development of African American Students into Psychosocial Theories of Student Development,” Journal of College Student Development 31 (1990): 429–36. 27. Howard-Hamilton, “Theory to Practice,” 17–30. 28. Ibid. 29. William Cross, Shades of Black: Diversity of African American Identity (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1991). 30. Howard-Hamilton, “Theory to Practice,” 17–30. 31. E. Erikson, Identity and the Life Cycle (New York: Norton, 1980). 32. Albert Bandura, “Self-Efficacy: Toward a Unifying Theory of Behavioral Change,” Psychological Review 84 (1977): 191–215. 33. Dancy and Brown, “Unintended Consequences,” 984–1003; Shaun Harper and Stephen Quaye, “Student Organizations as Venues for Black Identity Expression and Development Among African American Male Student Leaders,” Journal of College Student Development 48 (2007): 127–44; Howard-Hamilton, “Theory to Practice,” 17–30. 34. R. W. Connell, Masculinities (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1995); C. Franklin, Men and Society (Chicago: Nelson-Hall, 1988); Michael Kimmel, “Toward a Pedagogy of the Oppressor,” in Progressive Black Masculinities, ed. A. Mutua (New York: Routledge, 2006), 63–72; Michael Kimmel and Michael Messner, Men’s Lives, 7th ed. (Boston: Pearson/Allyn and Bacon, 2007). 35. Franklin, Men and Society. 36. Ibid.

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37. B. K. Alexander, Performing Black Masculinity: Race, Culture, and Queer Identity (Lanham, Md.: AltaMira, 2006); Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (New York: Routledge, 1990). 38. Tristan S. Bridges, “Gender Capital and Male Bodybuilders,” Body & Society 15, no. 1 (2009): 83–104, 84. 39. Jones, Black Haze; Stephanie McClure, “Improvising Masculinity: African American Fraternity Membership in the Construction of a Black Masculinity,” Journal of African American Studies 10, no. 1 (2006): 57–73. 40. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101. 41. Jones, Black Haze, 25. 42. Afrocentricity is defined as a worldview that emphasizes the importance of African people, taken as a single group and often equated with “Black people,” in culture, philosophy, and history. Henry Louis Gates and Kwame Anthony Appiah, Africana: The Encyclopedia of the African and African-American (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 111. 43. Robert Rhoads, Coming Out in College: The Struggle for a Queer Identity (Westport, Conn.: Bergin & Garvey, 1994). 44. Connell, Masculinities; Martin Summers, Manliness and Its Discontents: The Black Middle Class and the Transformation of Masculinity, 1900–1933 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2004). 45. E. Anderson, “Orthodox and Inclusive Masculinity: Competing Masculinities Among Heterosexual Men in a Feminized Terrain,” in Men’s Lives, ed. Michael Kimmel and Michael Messner (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 2007), 208–22. 46. R. L. Capraro, “Why College Men Drink: Alcohol, Adventure, and the Paradox of Masculinity,” in Men’s Lives, ed. Michael Kimmel and Michael Messner (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 2007), 182–95. 47. Jones, Black Haze. 48. Dancy, “Manhood Constructions among Engaged African American Male Collegians.” 49. P. Lyman, “The Fraternal Bond as a Joking Relationship: A Case Study of the Role of Sexist Jokes in Male Group Bonding,” in Men’s Lives, ed. Michael Kimmel and Michael Messner (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 2007), 153–62. 50. Lyman, “The Fraternal Bond as Joking Relationship,” 154. 51. Majors and Billson, Cool Pose. 52. Jones, Black Haze. 53. Ibid. 54. Ibid, 108. 55. Patricia H. Collins, “A Telling Difference: Dominance, Strength, and Black Masculinities,” in Progressive Black Masculinities, ed. A. Mutua (New York: Routledge, 2006), 73–98. 56. Jones, Black Haze; Kimbrough, Black Greek 101. 57. Jones, Black Haze. 58. Ibid. 59. Jones, Black Haze; Kimbrough, Black Greek 101. 60. Jones, Black Haze, 116. 61. Ibid. 62. Ibid., 116.


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63. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101; Lyman, “The Fraternal Bond as Joking Relationship.” 64. Michael Kimmel, “Ritualized Homosexuality in a Nacirema Subculture,” in Men’s Lives, ed. Michael Kimmel and Michael Messner (Boston: Pearson/Allyn and Bacon, 2007), 174–81. 65. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101; D. Case, “Breaking the Cycle of Invisibility,” in Out on Fraternity Row, ed. S. L. Windmeyer and P. W. Freeman (Los Angeles: Alyson Books, 1998), xxiii–xxxvii. 66. Case, “Breaking the Cycle of Invisibility”; Kimbrough, Black Greek 101, xxiii– xxxvii. 67. Case, “Breaking the Cycle of Invisibility.” 68. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101. 69. Dancy, Manhood Constructions. 70. Nineteen states continued to operate dual systems of higher education despite Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 barring legalized segregation: Alabama, Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maryland, Mississippi, Missouri, North Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia, and West Virginia. M. Christopher Brown, The Quest to Redefine Collegiate Desegregation: Black Colleges, Title VI Compliance, and Post-Adams Litigation (Westport, Conn.: Bergin & Garvey, 1999). 71. Dancy, “Manhood Constructions.” 72. Summers, Manliness and Its Discontents. 73. Dancy, “Manhood Constructions.” 74. Ibid. 75. Ibid. 76. Ibid. 77. Ibid. 78. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101; Jones, Black Haze; and McClure, “Improvising Masculinity.” 79. Ibid. 80. Ibid. 81. Ibid. 82. Ibid. 83. Ibid.

Chapter Five Commentary Marc Lamont Hill

As we near the end of the twenty-first century’s first decade, black males remain in crisis. From overrepresentation in prison to underrepresentation in college, the terms “black” and “male” continue to collectively operate as a social demerit that obstructs access to basic citizenship rights such as housing, education, employment, and equal protection under the law. These conditions demand not only a rigorous interrogation into the forces of structural inequality, but also a critical examination into the ways that black masculinity is imagined, constructed, performed, and negotiated within the public sphere. Among the most intellectually rich sites for inquiry are black Greek-letter fraternities, which provide extraordinary insight into the complexities, contours, and contradictions of black masculinity. In their nascent days, BGLFs were imagined as breeding grounds for the archetypal “race man” who was (and remains) central to the social aspirations of the black community. Due to his access to higher education, as well as black bourgeois social networks, the black male Greek was responsible for offering redemptive representations of blackness to the broader public sphere, as well as providing intellectual, moral, and political leadership within the community. As such, BGLFs have operated as epicenters for racial advancement and the maintenance of patriarchal authority. More recently, the function of BGLFs has shifted considerably within the public imagination. From the caricaturesque representations of popular film and television to the sensationalized headlines of mainstream newspapers, BGLFs are routinely constructed as sites of violence, hypersexuality, anti-intellectualism, and unrealized manhood. As with the “race man” narrative, such framing fails to account for the range of roles, purposes, and functions that BGLFs serve, as well as the complex ways that BGLFs shape and are shaped by the imperatives of black masculinity. In this chapter, T. Elon Dancy responds to these lacunae by examining the complex relationships of race, gender, and student identity within the context of BGLFs. 112

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Wisely, Dancy does not endeavor to provide incriminating or exculpatory analyses of black Greek fraternities. Instead, he offers sophisticated and theoretically robust insights into how black Greek-letter organizations operate as fecund spaces for complex forms of identity work. In particular, Dancy spotlights the ways in which BGLFs operate as sites for locating, contesting, and reinscribing a range of racialized and gendered identities. Such an analysis allows us to eschew the superficial, romantic, and dismissive narratives that have too often governed the scholarly and popular conversations about BGLFs. By framing BGLFs as productive spheres, Dancy helps to forge a necessary connection between scholars of higher education, critical education theory, and masculinity studies. Through the use of qualitative data, both his own and that of other scholars, Dancy lends empirical texture to the theoretical work of scholars like Henry Giroux, Lawrence Grossberg, and Roger Simon, who have pointed to schools as crucial terrains upon which knowledge, power, and identity are contested and negotiated. Such work is also instructive to scholars of black masculinity, whose heavy focus on popular culture texts comes at the expense of other sites of cultural production. In particular, Dancy’s analysis of the relationships between masculinity and educational processes—formal and informal, public and counter-public—exposes new sites of possibility for studying the lives of black men. Given the urgency of the moment, and the value of Dancy’s intellectual offering, the insights of this chapter must not be ignored.

6. Black Greek-Letter Fraternities and Masculinities Reynaldo Anderson, Paul M. Buckley, and Natalie T. J. Tindall

The essential tragedy of being Black and male is our inability, as men and as people of African descent, to define ourselves without the stereotypes the larger society imposes upon us, and through various institutional means perpetuates and permeates within our entire culture. —Manning Marable

Although various black student communities have a relatively young existence in higher education, black student movements in America flow from movements in the African American community.1 Black student communities came into existence during Reconstruction when land-grant colleges and universities were established for “colored” people.2 Whether it is a Black Student Association, the college chapter of the National Council of Negro Women, 100 Black Men, or black Greek-letter organizations, black student organizations are important social settings for African American college students. These organizations’ meetings and activities serve as spaces for the discussion of topics relevant to their interests, a place where feelings hidden from public may be expressed freely, an opportunity to date, and a point of communion between African American male and female students.3 Frequently, a collective sense of purpose permeates the activities that these organizations conduct and sponsor.4 For many African American students, black student organizations represent an extended family where worldviews are reinforced while the student is away from home. BGLOs serve as points of refuge, networking, and pride, and have given thousands of men and women a sense of purpose and mission. BGLOs are an important part of the social fabric of various black communities as well as within the larger American society. Although previous research focuses on the historical development of BGLOs, little research exists on the social exigencies 114

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and stigmas that influence the perceptions of these organizations or the identities and the behaviors of individual members in these organizations. Rather, focus and interest has largely concentrated on the stereotypical behaviors associated with BGLOs (such as elaborate pledging membership processes, hazing, or partying) as portrayed in films like School Daze or Stomp the Yard. Recently, BGLOs have come under increasing scrutiny for certain public behaviors that affects the image of the organizations, and it becomes necessary to understand the meaning of the social phenomena surrounding black Greek-letter fraternities. Shaun R. Harper and Frank Harris note the decline in the reputation and perception of black fraternities: The practices of illegal pledging and hazing have created warranted concern. And although academic excellence is a core principle for each of the five Black fraternities, their members’ performance in the classroom has been average at best—especially when compared to chapters in other Greek councils. As a result, the public perception of Black fraternities has declined steadily, thereby leading potential aspirants to pursue membership in alternative Black male social networks.5 A need and a call to examine the social exigencies and stigmas that influence the identities of the members of BGLFs exist in the higher education, sociological, and communication fields of inquiry. The purposes of this study are to illuminate how BGLFs interpret black manhood, to understand how African American males construct identities, and to illustrate how black men survive in a cultural situation that can sometimes be hostile. In this research, we examine the representations of the social identities of three BGLFs: Alpha Phi Alpha, Kappa Alpha Psi, and Omega Psi Phi. We present a review of literature on the historical formation of BGLFs, social identity, and stigma. Following the review of relevant literature, we explain the research methods employed during the research (in-depth interviews and content analysis of fraternity-related documents). Finally, the case-study findings on each individual fraternity are presented in alphabetical order in order to highlight the implications for BGLFs, as well as present new research opportunities.

Review of Relevant Literature Historical Formation of the Fraternities

The formation of BGLFs in the United States straddles many eras and issues. Four of the predominately intercollegiate BGLFs were founded in the early twentieth century. Alpha Phi Alpha, Kappa Alpha Psi, Omega Psi Phi, and Phi Beta Sigma were founded during the era of what the scholar Hazel Carby

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referred to as the era of “race men”: a time in which there was an increase in the diffusion of various public, black masculine intellectuals as they engaged in activism at the supposed behest of “the race.”6 However, in contrast to Carby’s focus on the metaphors in black intellectual texts, other scholars have defined race men as black men who were committed to the advancement of African peoples and the protection of black womanhood. For example, Alpha Phi Alpha member W. E. B. Du Bois noted the black community had to overcome ignorance, anti-intellectualism, and poverty, and in regard to the protection of black women he noted: “The red stain of bastardy, which two centuries of systematic legal defilement of Negro women had stamped upon his race, meant not only the loss of ancient African chastity, but the hereditary weight of a mass of corruption from white adulterers, threatening almost the obliteration of the Negro home.”7 The overt racism and discrimination that denied black male access to white fraternities cemented the organizations in their fight against Jim Crow and their involvement with the burgeoning civil rights movement of the twentieth century. The founders of the two fraternities begun on predominantly white campuses (Alpha Phi Alpha at Cornell University and Kappa Alpha Psi at Indiana University) and other African American students encountered segregation at recreational facilities and in social settings. Hence, the frequent meetings of the new fraternal groups allowed members to develop friendships and find relief from the pains of a limited social life on campus.

Alpha Phi Alpha

In December 1906, Alpha Phi Alpha was formed. The seven founders of the fraternity—Henry Arthur Callis, Charles Henry Chapman, Eugene Kinckle Jones, George Biddle Kelley, Nathaniel Allison Murray, Robert Harold Ogle, and Vertner Woodson Tandy—are known as Jewels. The origins and structures of Alpha Phi Alpha and subsequent BGLFs had roots in the fraternity movement and literary societies of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.8 In the 1860s and 1870s, fraternities formed on the Cornell campus, and the predominantly white fraternities barred enrollment and membership from “colored” students. The founders of Alpha Phi Alpha formally remained outside of the campus’s predominant fraternities; however, two of the founders—Callis and Kelley—were informally exposed to the ideas and values of the fraternity due to their waiting jobs in two fraternity houses. Student literary and debating societies where students developed oratorical and rhetorical skills “were integral parts of the learning environment, approved and supported by the faculty and its trustees.”9 Prior to the formation of Alpha Phi Alpha, the Jewels and several other members of the black Cornell University campus community were active members in a literary society that served as the catalyst for the creation of the fraternity.10 Today, Alpha Phi Alpha is the oldest, continuous collegiate BGLF


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and continues to achieve its stated mission of developing leaders, promoting academic excellence, and providing service to the community. To date, the fraternity has more than 150,000 members and over 750 chapters in the United States, Canada, Asia, and Africa.

Kappa Alpha Psi

Kappa Alpha Psi is the second of the intercollegiate BGLFs established. According to William Crump, who wrote the fraternity’s history, Kappa Alpha Psi was founded as Kappa Alpha Nu on January 5, 1911, at Indiana University as an effort to survive the fierce isolation faced by African American male students.11 Shortly after the organization’s founding, the fraternity provided impressive social functions that were open to other African Americans in Bloomington, Indiana. Kappa Alpha Nu officially changed its name to Kappa Alpha Psi in 1915. This change was primarily made to provide the organization with distinct Greek letters after members of the fraternity overheard white students making a derogatory racial spin on the name.12 Currently Kappa Alpha Psi is an international fraternity with over 338 undergraduate and 337 graduate chapters in the United States and parts of the Caribbean, Europe, Asia, and Africa.

Omega Psi Phi

Omega Psi Phi was the first BGLF whose founders were students and faculty at a historically black college or university. Three undergraduate liberal arts students at Howard University—Edgar Love, Oscar Cooper, and Frank Coleman—and one faculty member, Dr. Ernest E. Just, established the fraternity on November 17, 1911.13 Consistent with the era in which African Americans struggled to succeed in a segregated American society and the African American cultural and societal norms that tried to unify the race, the Omegas adopted manhood, scholarship, perseverance, and uplift as cardinal principles of the organization. Today, Omega Psi Phi is an international fraternity with 750 chapters.

Social Identity, Representation, and Fraternities Social identity

Social identity is the method that people use to classify themselves and others in the social world. The categories others use to define who is inside or outside of select grouping depend upon “prototypical characteristics abstracted from the members.”14 Social identity mirrors the individual’s belonging or assimilation into social groups, and the individual’s personal identity is re-formed and reshaped through continuous social interactions.15 An individual’s social identity is derived from group membership; it radiates from the idea of “oneness with

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or belonging to human aggregate.”16 Therefore, people can define who they are, accepting or rejecting the social labels that groups or society places on them.17 Ascribed identities are those socially constructed identities given to an individual upon birth.18 Avowed identities are accumulated over one’s lifetime as that individual becomes self-directed and aligns with careers and organizations. As individuals move between interactions with others, certain individuals must pivot between identities, thus rearranging personal identity markers to accommodate the situation.19 Understanding the relevance of these dynamic processes and how they affect an individual’s life cannot be understood unless a researcher acknowledges and understands the context in which they are achieved and accomplished.20

Representation and Black Fraternities

Representation connects meaning and language to culture, which allows us to refer and distinguish between “real” world people, places, things, or fictional objects, people, places, and events. Ferdinand de Saussure identified two elements in the meaning-making process that help us to understand signs: the “signifier” and the corresponding concept known as the “signified.”21 For example, red (signifier) triggers a visual image in our minds (the signified) that lets one know the word or the signifier is not green, purple, blue, or black (as well as connotations of the word such as “stop,” “danger,” “anger,” etc.). Certain fraternity-linked or affiliated terms trigger visual or conceptual elements. For example, the word “Nupe” has no specific relevance or meaning to the general public, but it has an explicit meaning to brothers of Kappa Alpha Psi, just as the phrase “the black and old gold” is significant to members of Alpha Phi Alpha. Especially in the fraternity/sorority world, signs and symbols are important communicators of codes that display precise meanings regarding identities, behaviors, ways of speaking and being, and social understanding.

Alpha Phi Alpha

The founders and early leaders in Alpha Phi Alpha took pride in the cultural and historical linkage to Africa.22 As Gloria H. Dickinson noted, the legacy to Africa has been maintained and reiterated by BGLOs: “the college students of that era were very much aware of their connection to an Africa that was quite different from the mythologized (and often demonized) continent depicted by turn-of-the-century European and U.S. historical texts, media, and popular culture.”23 During a fraternity convention in 1911, the fraternity adopted an official design for a shield that featured a sphinx head. In the early twentieth century, the pledge club for Alpha Phi Alpha was named the Sphinx Club.24 Although other African and particularly Egyptian references are connected with the organization, the sphinx is the official and most prominent symbol.


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Kappa Alpha Psi

For members of Kappa Alpha Psi, the “playboy” and “pretty boy” brands and monikers continue to serve as signifiers for the organization—both on a national level among nonaffilates as well as within the BGLO community. For many years, the “Playboy Enterprises” bunny was used on campuses as an unofficial sign of the fraternity chapter’s presence.25 The iconic bunny decorated fliers, banners, and paddles, as well as clothing of members, thus reinforcing a pretty boy or playboy image. According to the official Web site of Kappa Alpha Psi, the bunny’s use was officially banned by the national organization in 2003 (primarily for legal compliance). However, the legacy of its use still persists in the culture of fraternity and sorority life. Also, Kappa Alpha Psi brothers are recognized by their trademark “cane” (or “kane”). The cane serves as both a symbolic and functional device as it is both a recognizable trademark and is often one of the props of distinction for members’ use in step shows.

Omega Psi Phi

The concept of being a “dog” in BGLF life is unique to Omega Psi Phi. For example, the song “Atomic Dog” by George Clinton resonates with many members of the fraternity; also, the barking of the rapper DMX is attractive to many Omegas. To perpetuate the dog image, some members wear dog collars.

Understanding the Raced and Gendered Identities of Black Men

According to the “social constructionist” and “intersectional” approach, gender and race do not exist in a vacuum separated from each other. These markers simultaneously occur with each other and impact each other as they combine to form one’s identity. Racial and gendered categories are sociohistorical concepts that are “created, inhabited, transformed, and destroyed.”26 These concepts are elaborate fluctuations across social structures, discourses, time, and continents. Although both race and gender are visible identities, these identities are social categories that are enacted through structures and representations. The range of cultural identities and practices held by blacks in general and black men in particular are not all defined by the dominant culture. Black men demonstrate agency in their identity and self-expression, creating their own “varied and resistive meanings and practices out of the material and symbolic resources available to them.”27 Respectability and reputation are two practices of masculinity that are used to shape identities. These practices are especially important for black men whose pathway to dominant and normative paradigms of masculinity is often stymied by various manifestations of racism. Rooted in African patriarchy, the idea of respectability manifested during the American enslavement as black men sought to retain their personal integrity by rising to positions of leadership.28 Hence, the values expected to accompany

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their leadership, such as strong work ethic, independence, activism, dedication, religious faith, and mutual help, demonstrated honorable and trustworthy status and positioned these men for greater involvement and participation in black civic organizations, religious groups, educational institutions, lodges, and social clubs. The countercultural practice of reputation also traces roots to the enslavement. However, rather than the accommodationist stance of respectability, reputation is resistant. At its roots, reputation was characterized by the maintenance of (real or perceived) African practices and styles. Contemporary practices include acts of sexual prowess, trickery and wit, rejection of white authority, and gratuitous violence. Reputation is established in a number of ways, including dominance and exploitation of women, aesthetic ability, domination of other men, and rejecting authority—especially white authority.

Research Methods In the exploration of the connections and interplay of identity and representation in historically BGLFs and the examination of how members make meaning of those concerns, the resulting product is descriptive data that must be unraveled, understood, clarified, and then connected to the relevant theories. Therefore, qualitative methods—particularly interviews and qualitative content analysis—were the best ways to recognize how practitioners interpret their experiences in organizations. Robert C. Bogdan and Sari Knopp Biklen believed the goal of the qualitative researcher was “to group the processes by which people construct meaning and to describe what those meanings are.”29 According to John Lofland, the purpose of qualitative research is that “of delineating forms, constitution of meaning in everyday phenomena; of documenting in loving detail the things that exist.”30 Specifically, the researchers created cases studies for each organization: Alpha Phi Alpha, Kappa Alpha Psi, and Omega Psi Phi. Through prolonged and intense contact with public organizational documents and with members, case studies allow researchers to develop an understanding of how people make meaning of common occurrences.31 The case-study method emphasizes detailed analysis and multiple sources.32 This method is well suited to the study of BGLF because, as Mary F. Hoffman suggested, “a case study not only offers insight into the established rules and structures of the organization, but more importantly into how members use and make sense of them.”33 To develop the case studies for each organization, the researchers employed individual indepth interviews and document analysis to collect sufficient data and provide an understanding of the organization and its members. In-depth interviews with members of these organizations and other NPHC organizations formed a significant foundation for understanding the perceived


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identities of these organizations. The researchers use a flexible interviewing instrument that allowed for semi-formal interview questions and for the appropriate follow-up questions. Rhetorical episodes were reconstructed from personal recollections and fragmented documentation. According to Alessandro Portelli, the goal of oral history is to collect individual recollections and connect them within the larger context of history.34 Oral history emphasizes the recorded oral interviews as archival sources that other scholars may want to examine in the future. Finally, Portelli noted, “we can see how each individual text negotiates the interplay of the personal and the social, of individual expression and social praxis. This negotiation varies with each text and each performance.”35 Another component of a case study is the analysis of the organization’s presentation of itself and its membership. Therefore, the researchers performed document analysis. The purpose of this method is to reaffirm already collected evidence and to interrogate trends and patterns found in the artifacts created by an organization.36 According to Thomas R. Lindlof, the documents created by organizational members dictate members’ behaviors, classify decision rules and structures, preserve organizational actions—past and present—memorialize history and achievement, validate certain behaviors, and reflect organizational procedures.37 The units of analysis were visual and textual documents: more than eighty Web pages from undergraduate and alumni chapters from different regions of the country, BGLF-associated links, and the group pages and profiles of social networking sites. On these pages, the authors looked for and analyzed a variety of elements, including the music on the page (audio construction), photographs and videos (visual construction), use of language, and other textual content. The videos reviewed include step shows, new initiate “coming out” shows, and member strolls and hops.

Alpha Phi Alpha Web Presence: Understanding Iconography on Chapter Web Sites

Most Web sites were collegiate chapter home pages that contained the standard components for an organization or institution: the history of Alpha Phi Alpha, chapter history, photo albums, list of prominent members, information about becoming a member, and a listing of events. A small number of sites had a feedback loop (i.e., comments section, e-mail icons) that allowed communication between the external public and the chapter. Almost all of the chapter sites were intuitive, yet several sites from the collegiate chapters had tools and graphical representations that might hinder visitors. Regarding the visual images used on the sites, the African influence was a prominent feature of most sites. On the undergraduate Web sites, the pages

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contained African-related motifs as backgrounds or African-themed graphics and photos. For example, undergraduate Web sites of Alpha Phi Alpha prominently displayed graphics and photos included the Sphinx, busts of pharaohs, and pharaoh sarcophagi. However, all of the reviewed alumni chapter sites had photos of the chapter conducting work, and the alumni chapter sites retained similar color schemes and featured the Greek letters and the crest. Yet, the Egyptian icons displayed on the undergraduate sites were not used on the alumni sites. Within the undergraduate chapter sites, the Egyptian dynasty and institutions were referenced in line names: Sons of King Tut, Four Sons of Horus, Guardians of Luxor, Oracles of Akhenaton, 4 Kings of Kemet, Suns of the Nile, Two Pharoahs of Eternal Darkness, Six Suns of Kurnugia, Four Mystic Elements of the Nile, and 5 Pillars of the Egyptian Throne. In light of the Egyptian iconography used by Alpha Phi Alpha, Dickinson wrote that “these titles affirm pride in their African ancestry and a desire by these young men to remember their forbearers’ greatest accomplishments.”38

Man Enough: The Expressed Hegemonic Masculinity and Heterosexual Affirmations in Fraternity Life

Ricky L. Jones noted that black fraternities have created and developed identities that the members project and reaffirm through actions and dialogue. He wrote: “Although many individuals in these fraternities do not fit their organization’s personality or phenotypical profile, it is not unusual to hear, ‘You look (or act) like a Kappa (Q, or Alpha).”39 Regarding Alpha Phi Alpha, the typical labels and identities surrounding the members are men who are career-oriented, bookish, safe, and reserved.40 The identified symbols and identities as scholarly and refined led some persons to consider members of Alpha Phi Alpha as gay or feminine.41 Alan D. DeSantis and Marcus Coleman found that within the BGLO community, the members of Alpha Phi Alpha are maligned for being bookish and smart: “Being too intellectual, refined, or well-spoken cast doubt on both their commitment to the race (i.e., they were perceived as selling out to the white culture) and their heterosexual status.”42 Stigmas exist within BGLFs. A person who belongs to a stigmatized group, according to Jennifer Crocker, Barbara Major, and Claude M. Steele, is “a person whose social identity or membership in some social category, calls into question his or her full humanity—the person is devalued, spoiled, or flawed in the eyes of other.”43 The sociologist Erving Goffman considered a stigma an attribute that made an individual different from others, “especially when its discrediting effect is very extensive; sometimes it is also called a failing, a shortcoming, a handicap.” A stigma is a social construction with two key components: the evaluation of a flaw or difference. Following that acknowledgment, there is subsequent devaluation of the individual from society.44


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The most common stigma within BGLFs is homosexuality, which is pinned onto those who do not fit the norms and traditional expectations of black masculinity. Walter Kimbrough asserted that within black fraternities, the acknowledgment of gay men inside the fraternities’ membership is a “culture shock.”45 The homophobia exhibited in the African American community is replicated and intensified inside black fraternal organizations since these institutions are reshaped and recreated by members who embody and live the cultural values and norms of the community in which they exist. Being labeled as gay is an identity that is in opposition to the heterosexual functions and norms of black fraternity life. Many chapters and members project images that are marbled with elements of hegemonic masculinity and the “cool pose” that maintain a balance between masculine identity and scholarly actualities. The manifest functions of fraternities, including Alpha Phi Alpha, “make men” through the construction and reproduction of hegemonic masculinity.46 Hegemonic masculinity is social, gendered practices that allow boys and men to reinforce patriarchy, ascribe a higher value to masculinity over femininity (women), and dominate other men who do not meet the contextual requirements of being a man.47 This form of masculinity is defined by the socially constructed binaries of male/female and feminine/masculine. On the surface, the binaries can be viewed as differentiated oppositions, yet the binaries are twisted intricately together because the definitions and boundaries of one side of the binary define the other. Hegemonic masculinity is transmitted through culture and socialization as males learn that “manhood” is often defined by toughness, sexual promiscuity, and dominance. For black men, one of the ways that hegemonic masculinity emerges and is reproduced is through the “cool pose.” Richard Majors and Janet Mancini Billson defined “cool pose” as a ritualized masculine identity “that entails behaviors, scripts, physical posturing, impression management, and carefully crafted performances that deliver a single, critical message: pride, strength, and control.”48 The cool pose is a performance that allows men to express a stylish and impressive identity while remaining detached, emotionless, aloof, and stoic. For the members of Alpha Phi Alpha, references to cold (e.g., coldness, icy, ice cold) were scattered across the undergraduate Web presence. One chapter proclaimed itself among the “phrozen phew.” Lines names included “Four Frozen in Time,” “Four Dimensions of Ice,” “Three Frozen Prophecies,” “Frozen Disciples of Justice,” and “Frozen Trilogy.” Choosing to shroud and represent themselves using cool terminology, Alpha men create themselves as haughty, hard, and stern. In BGLO life, discourse and action of this manner helps to reproduce the cool pose as a functional identity management strategy. Dominance is exerted through the listing of prominent African American figures that are members of the organization, the claim that significant portions of

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the professionals in the black community are members, and the use of language (poems and narrative) and visuals (photos). Emphasis on service and leadership were echoed across many undergraduate sites. Chapters boasted of their achievements in the classroom and as leaders in the campus community, city, region, and fraternity while using adjectives such as awesome, aristocratic, and arrogant.

Ape/Gorilla Imagery

The word “ape” is significant to Alpha Phi Alpha’s former pledge process.49 Yet, the implicit and explicit use of gorillas was found across many undergraduate chapter sites. Several pages had graphic images of an ape/gorilla figure. On one chapter site, the face of a gorilla filled the background of the main Web page. The words “ape” were found in line names (e.g., “The Last A.P.E.S. Standing”— Sigma Delta, Elon University). The homonym “guerilla” was used in ship or line names (e.g., “6 Survivors of Guerilla Warfare”—Alpha Chi, Fisk University), and the actual word “gorilla” was used also as line names (e.g., “10 Untamed Gorillas of The Cold War”—Delta Eta, Savannah State University) and in party and week names (e.g., “Gorilla Warphare Week”—Delta Delta, South Carolina State; “Gorilla Warphare party”—Alpha Mu, Northwestern University; and ”Gorilla Thrilla party”—Beta Nu, Florida A&M University). The ape/gorilla imagery used by some members of Alpha Phi Alpha is problematic, based on the fraternity’s history and dissonance with the other representations and identities presented by the organization. Gregory Parks notes the contradictory tensions between the fraternity’s scholar identity and the ape imagery: “[W]hen progressive Black organizations project such images, they may be doing significant damage to their image. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with the ‘ape’ stage in my fraternity’s old pledge process. What is problematic, however, is when brothers use ape imagery to promote their events to the public.”50 Historically, the black person-ape association and inferences were in vogue and prevalent during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries in film and minstrel shows.51 The justification for the comparison was based in scientific racism that presupposed that “peoples of African descent were innately lazy, aggressive, dim, hypersexual, and in need of benevolent control.”52 Other researchers add to the list of derogatory adjectives: lack of self-restraint, uncultured, limited cognitive capabilities, and immoral sensibilities. The labels feed into the dominant perception noted by Nick Haslam: “The savage has brutish appetites for violence and sex, is impulsive and prone to criminality, and can tolerate unusual amounts of pain.”53 More recently, the uproar over the April 2008 Vogue cover with LeBron James and Gisele Bundchen was raised because of the racial cues and stereotypes embedded in the image. The magazine’s cover is similar to the 1933 movie poster for King Kong, a theatrical release that scholars believe


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is a cautionary tale about interracial relationships (the black, pugnacious beast and the fair, delicate white beauty). Phillip A. Goff and colleagues found that the black-ape metaphor is subtle yet present in American society. Over six experiments, the researchers found that people had cognitive associations between blacks and apes: “That Whites and apes are negatively associated is also consistent with early biologically racist accounts of evolution that rendered Blacks as least evolved (ergo closest to apes) and Whites as most evolved (ergo farthest away from apes).”54 Additionally, the association between blacks and apes is linked to in-group and out-group associations and can influence judgments of black men.55 Thus, the dehumanization of blacks—reducing black men to primates—can lead to racial bias. This subtle, indirect, and rationalized racial bigotry that relies upon historical connotations and denotations is modern racism.56 With modern racism, the focus is more on the racial symbols, beliefs, and stereotypes. Those who perpetuate the ideology of modern racism do not see themselves, their beliefs, or their ideals as racist, and present themselves as nondiscriminatory. After analyzing several studies, David O. Sears considered the content of symbolic racism to fall upon the same lines: resentment, antagonism, and a disavowal of continued discrimination.57 This historical backdrop of race and ideology ground this exploration of the fraternity’s identity and image. The current representations of apes and gorillas in text and deeds appear harmless. Yet, the implicit associations between blacks and apes are real, and these images and associations were the dominant depictions that the founders of Alpha Phi Alpha were revolting against as students and leaders in the fraternal movement. From the start of the literary society to the creation of the fraternity, the founders of Alpha Phi Alpha were concerned with writing a new cultural history for African Americans and fought to create an alternate reality and identity for African American men. In popular culture, black men in the white mind were largely Uncle Toms and coons and one of the few values for black bodies were limited to performances—shucking and jiving, dancing, singing. According to Ronald L. Jackson, the perceived inferiority of the black body was linked to an ideology of whiteness: “the body is forced to hold the contradictions and anxieties laced within the inscribed meanings because it inescapably exists in a social habitat preoccupied with these meanings.”58

Kappa Alpha Psi I’m so pretty on my left, I’m so pretty on my right, I said I’m so so pretty I can’t sleep at night. —Kappa Alpha Psi chant

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A review of the textual data presents broad and fluid ideas of what it means for a man, particularly a fraternity man, to be pretty.

Playboys and Playas: Representations of the Kappa as a Ladies’ Man

In Web site texts, step show chants, and random social commentary, Kappas assert that women want them because they are “pretty.” One reviewed step show began with a brief introduction of the founding date and purpose of the national organization, founding date of the chapter, and then statements asserting that Kappas were “taking” all the ladies and “controlling the yard.” They ask: “Is it the stylish clothes we wear? Is it the way we go ‘yo yo’?” Then the chant is completed with: “Ask your girl, I bet she knows.” This step show chant challenges the sexual prowess of all men in the audience, presumably except other Kappas. The chant condemns other men, asserting that the woman who should be looking at them is looking at a Kappa and that the Kappa has taken her. Additionally, such chants presume or admit to a narcissistic view that positions the gaze of all other males on the Kappa man. This at once reinforces and positions the Kappas’ prettiness, whether it is their presentation in fashion or something inherently shared by members of the fraternity (such as their fraternity call “Yo-Yooo”) that is presumed desirable for both nonaffiliated men and women. The narcissism of the pretty boy “Nupe” (a nickname for members of Kappa) can best be seen in their step show performance when the brothers pause to pose for a “Nupe flik” or one brother simulates holding a mirror up while the other brother grooms or checks himself with adoration. Such displays are frequent and popular elements in a Kappa step show, both a site for entertainment and reinforcement of the fraternity’s social positioning and meaning. Interestingly, during these performances, “achievement in every field of human endeavor” moves to the back seat. Although achievement is still a productive part of the signifying of the fraternity, the target is social achievement. It is within the public space of performances that reputation takes over. While stepping, Kappa members affirm their aesthetic qualities or projections, demonstrate dominance, exploit women’s sexuality, and assert their own competitive edge over other fraternities and other non-Greek-affiliated men.

Representations of Kappas as Pretty (yet) Masculine

What it actually means to be “pretty” is not often defined by the Kappas. The definition is left to the audience for interpretation and is taken for granted as a statement of fact when proclaimed by members of Kappa Alpha Psi. The subtitles of several photos of Kappa Alpha Psi members included the adjective “pretty,” even “oh so pretty.” However, being pretty is a problematic condition because hegemonic masculinity defines real men as being what women are not—and women are pretty. For example, real men are not soft, not as hairless


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as women, and not as pretty. Yet, to be pretty in our society means taking on several “feminine qualities,” including a sense of fashion and style, color coordination, cleanliness, and an aesthetic quality of softness. To maintain prettiness as a male then requires negotiation with dominance over women. Kappas assert their prettiness in conjunction with explicit affirmations of active heterosexuality in their chants and simulations. The problematic prettiness intensifies with the rise of metrosexuality as well as an increase in the frequency of and more open discussions regarding homosexuality in the African American community. Only the friction of intention to associate with hegemonic masculinity, which opposes black and gay men, problematizes this prettiness. This friction between hegemonic masculinity and prettiness is one that is witnessed and shared by women who are both drawn to and increasingly suspicious of this manifestation of men’s sexuality.

Language and Other Textual Content

Web sites are creative spaces where the content is strategic, targeted, and intentional. Most of the chapter Web sites utilize a standard set of links: organization history, chapter history, a photo gallery, and calendar of events or programs. Some add links to other chapters or organizations of interest to the chapter. Within that standard framework were creative manipulations of spellings to emphasize Kappa (e.g., “flik,” “kookout,” “kolours,” “kuming”). However, that was just on the surface. Most undergraduate chapter sites use other adjectives along with their chapter name, including “originator,” “detrimental,” “big money maker,” “rough,” and “rugged.” These heavily coded words demonstrate hegemonic masculinity in terms of status and opposition to femininity. Few chapters demonstrate the prominence of the organization as a leader in service to the community. For example, Theta chapter’s Web site garners attention with a dramatic opening that focuses on the fraternity’s founding principle of achievement. The high quality of Web page format presents the history and purpose of the fraternity as a special mission. By listing prominent member achievers in various fields, which most chapters did, a viewer’s predominant reception of the fraternity is supposed to fit with founding purposes of the organization. This respectability of the organization in cyberspace at once hails the average viewer to respect and “admire” the organization for its social weight and signals a mature organization.

Omega Psi Phi This section illuminates patterns of social interaction established among African American fraternity members of Omega Psi Phi within a context that

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does not define their behavior as “ghetto specific” or deviant. Several members of Omega Psi Phi (between the ages of thirty-nine and fifty and who lived in the Midwest) were interviewed.59 Interviewees were asked to share information they wrote in personal letters, diaries, or communication during their membership in the organization. The oral accounts of members were triangulated with online archival materials to gain a clearer picture of what happened and in what context certain events occur. News accounts were obtained from local newspaper material that had been archived.

The Omega “Dog”

Although the “dog” imagery has long been disavowed by the national organization, some members associate the image with strength and determination. For example, one member we called “John” noted: Against this backdrop, we must consider that the girls of today love “bad boys.” Some Omegas have aspired to be the baddest of the bad. In today’s upsidedown world, they are on top. Last, it cannot go without saying that some brothers have taken the virtue of the Bulldog symbol and all it represents to a somewhat base level. The fraternity has long recognized this unfortunate fact and sought to correct it. Some have even suggested changing this noble symbol as a result. I am not in favor of a change. A review of Web sites and other archival data reveals that while the “Dog” may be disavowed by the national organization, it remains an informal symbol for the Omega Psi Phi fraternity.

A “Man’s Man”

The hypermasculine image of the members of Omega Psi Phi has historical roots in what Hazel Carby refers to as “race men.”60 Historically, black men were denied positive role models and the result has been a struggle to define black masculinity. This image is related to the founding of Omega Psi Phi and their cardinal principles. For example, one member stated: Of course, not all stereotypes are negative. I never realized or regarded this as a stereotype but if it is, I suppose I would welcome it. In truth, each of the socalled “Divine Nine” Black Greek Letter Organizations has both negative and positive stereotypes for which they are known. I opine that the young men and women of these organizations at times pander to the stereotypes, even some of the less flattering ones. Manhood is one of Omegas four cardinal principles. The fraternity expects its brothers to embrace manhood in their lives daily. If “hyper-manliness” is a stereotype, I suppose its basis is in members of the organization striving to manifest this cardinal principle.


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These hypermasculine behaviors and patterns have their drawbacks. In this vein, such possible negatives beg more than a few questions: For example, what are the ramifications of hypermasculinity when relating to women? Does the emphasis on heterosexual black hypermasculinity come at the expense of black women, black gay men, or other heterosexual men? In contemporary BGLO life is it time to reassess the normalization of the dog images among members? A cursory review of Web content indicates that expression of a certain type of black masculinity is very important to Omega Psi Phi fraternity. However, it is important to keep in mind that Omega Psi Phi fraternity was founded in response to an antiblack racist society.

Taking It All Off

The act of stripping by some members of Omega Psi Phi fraternity at parties, step shows, or clubs is not indicative of the overwhelming majority of the members. However, as an aspect of social ritual or interaction it is worthy of study or comment. The act of stripping as social commentary or ritual seems to be generational in expression. For example, a member of Omega Psi Phi we call “Bill” noted: It is easier to create stereotypes when there is a clearly visible and consistent attribute that can easily be recognized. This is why people of color, police and women are so easily stereotyped. Stereotypes are not accurate representations of groups, rather they arise as a means of explaining and justifying differences between groups. So, stripping and humping each other in public is not an accurate representation of all men of Omega. However, an older member commented on the generational aspect of stripping: In my opinion, some brothers behave this way in part because these are the times in which we live. It is important to look at the historical contexts. Omegas in the early years until the cultural revolution of the sixties behaved at social gatherings with all of the genteel grace expected of college men of their day. As the cultural norms of society changed, members of the fraternity changed. Young people regardless of ethnic identity or organizational affiliation behave in ways that my generation never did even as young college students. Quite frankly, I thought we pushed the envelope but the youth of today were born after 2 Live Crew, whereas we discovered them after our characters had long been shaped. A generational divide between younger members versus older members exists in the representation of the fraternity and the expression of particular identities.

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In response to stigmatization, members of Omega Psi Phi engage in interaction rituals that explicitly transmit certain values of manhood to the broader BGLO community and to potential members. These values are also transmitted in cyberspace via social members. However, there are also drawbacks when such interaction rituals—implicitly media entities like Facebook and YouTube—call into question how black men relate to various black communities.

Conclusion Human beings are social creatures. We make meaning of our world and ourselves as we interact with it and one another. In those interactions, we change how we behave and highlight a particular role or identity to encourage or dissuade that interaction. We enter every interaction with expectancies about the partner’s personality, attitudes, and behavior, in addition to expectancies about the context of the interaction and anticipated communication exchange. One such variable that can influence this interaction is that of stigma. The strategies employed by members of BGLFs help to confront, create, foster, and preserve the stigmas associated with fraternities, thus influencing perceptions and judgments among other NPHC-affiliated members and those outside these organizations. The social conditions that influenced the founding of Alpha Phi Alpha, Kappa Alpha Psi, and Omega Psi Phi reflect a parallel to which black men developed their individual identities and nurtured their ambitions within the U.S. context. That has meant negotiating patriarchy while surviving within and resisting the oppressive structure of white racism and hegemony. The development of BGLFs in the early twentieth century is a demonstration of this fact, as collegiate black men utilized a framework available to them (the fraternity) to assist them in their own educational and social endeavors; thus redefining the purpose and function of a college fraternity. E. T. Gordon notes that the African American community reflects a “particularly strong” patriarchical ideology that in turn reflects the hegemonic masculinity that bestows high status on males who exercise dominance over women, maintain active heterosexual identity, are recognized leaders, or portray dominance over other men within public spaces, and can use material ostentation to demonstrate success.61 Each organization examined in this study demonstrates their patriarchal leanings yet also reveal other aspects of organizational identity that resist white notions of the male “other.” Projections of intellectualism, nobility, cultural dignity, and some sense of power among BGLFs defy notions of black men as docile, imbecilic or anti-intellectual, disordered, and culturally inferior. Members of the organizations studied utilized multiple identity strategies to express various needs. Some identity strategies employed codes that


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proclaimed the reputation of the chapter, thus signaling an organization concerned with the pleasures of college days and the credibility earned in peerto-peer, campus relationships. Some identity strategies allow the members to push away the ascribed identities, create avowed identities that some members affirm through behaviors and activities, and challenge the perceived notions through risk-taking strategies that contradicted the stereotypes and stigmas of the organization. These tensions between the various avowed and ascribed identities—gay and feminized, cool and collected brothers, accommodationistic respectability, ladies’ man, dogs, pretty boys, scholars—position each organization to represent and attract varying models or elements from the black masculine repertoire. Members of Alpha Phi Alpha exert a bookish scholar image that may be considered feminine or gay; they are goal-focused and career-oriented men who also have another side that is identified with the “ape” image and cool pose that is a common signifier of black masculinity. The notion of being “pretty” in fraternity life is unique to the brothers of Kappa Alpha Psi, though “pretty boy” masculinity can be observed in the black male culture repertoire generally. However, for Kappas, prettiness is a brand that is used to demonstrate ability to be successful with women, narcissism, and performativity in competitive space. Members of Omega Psi Phi pivot their identities around behaviors associated with machismo and hypermasculinity, sometimes projecting an image of black men as dangerous, sexist, and misogynistic. This image has served them by affirming a problematic masculine image that has generally kept them from homosexual stigma while producing misogynist stereotypes that some members struggle to fend off. This versatility with identities among the fraternities is reflective of the broadening masculinities discussed by K. Harris in Boys, Boyz, Bois, in which a unifying of subjects could become the next challenge for all BGLFs to address.62 Black fraternity men have generally contributed to the evolving definition of black masculinity in the United States. However, organizational identity and stigma threaten to limit and deny the diverse repertoire of masculinity that exist within the membership of each BGLF explored in this chapter. This has ramifications for how men from the different fraternities relate to one another. The study was limited because it is impossible to generalize from small samples to an entire organization. However, the study has several implications for educators, scholars, and members of the three fraternities. This research suggests that black males should be provided positive outlets to express their manhood and the behaviors of a few members should not be allowed to stereotype an entire organization. Further, black men must continue to challenge notions of masculinity, resisting hegemonic manhood within various black cultures in healthy and productive ways. Black masculinity is deeply connected to the accepted ideologies of manhood among black women. Hence more research

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should be conducted to understand these ideologies and how they are developed. The results of this study suggest a number of future directions for research aimed at understanding how stigma impacts the relationships and social interactions of BGLF members. For example, researchers should examine how generational and class differences between members of BGLFs influence organizational identity and representations. Ultimately, researchers need to examine the social interaction between members of different BGLOs due to stigma and representation. Notes Epigraph. Manning Marable, “The Black Male: Searching beyond Stereotype,” in Men’s Lives, ed. Michael S. Kimmel and Michael A. Messner, 18–24 (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 2001). 1. Maulana Karenga, Introduction to Black Studies (Los Angeles: University of Sankore Press, 1993). 2. Ibid. 3. James A. Geschwender, “Marxist-Leninist Organization Prognosis Among Black Workers,” Journal of Black Studies 8 (1978): 279–98. 4. Ibid. 5. Shaun R. Harper and Frank Harris, “The Role of Black Fraternities in the African American Male Undergraduate Experience,” in African American Men in College, ed. Michael Cuyjet, 128–53 (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2006). 6. Hazel Carby, Race Men: The W. E. B. Du Bois Lectures (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2000). 7. W. E. B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk (New York: Penguin Classics, 1989), 9. 8. Morris Bishop, A History of Cornell (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1962); Richard Mansfield Rose, “For Our Mutual Benefit: Antebellum Georgia College Student Organizations” (Ph.D. diss., University of Georgia, 1984); Edwin Arthur Hollatz, “The Development of Literary Societies in Selected Illinois Colleges in the Nineteenth Century and Their Role in Speech Training” (Ph.D. diss., Northwestern University, 1965); Lowell Simpson, “The Little Republics: Undergraduate Literary Societies at Columbia, Dartmouth, Princeton, and Yale, 1753–1865” (Ph.D. diss., Columbia University Teachers College, 1976). 9. Cally L. Waite, “Permission to Remain among Us: Education for Blacks in Oberlin, Ohio, 1880–1914” (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1997), 114. 10. Stefan Bradley, “The First and Finest: The Founders of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity,” in Black Greek-Letter Organizations in the 21st Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, ed. Gregory S. Parks, 19–39 (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008). 11. William Crump, The Story of Kappa Alpha Psi (Philadelphia: Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, 1983). 12. Ibid. 13. http://www.omegapsiphifraternity.org/about.asp; Walter Kimbrough, Black Greek 101: The Culture, Customs, and Challenges of Black Fraternities and Sororities (Madison, N.J.: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2003), 29, 33.


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14. Blake E. Ashforth and Fred Mael, “Social Identity Theory and the Organization,” Academy of Management Review 14 (1989): 20–39. 15. Ibid.; Timothy J. Owens, “Self and Identity,” in Handbook of Social Psychology, ed. John Delamater, 205–32 (New York: Kluwer, 2003). 16. Ashforth and Mael, “Social Identity Theory and the Organization,” 21. 17. Henri Tajfel, Human Groups and Social Categories: Studies in Social Psychology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981); Owens, “Self and Identity.” 18. Richard Jenkins, Social Identity (New York: Routledge, 1996). 19. Ronald L. Jackson II, Scripting the Black Masculine Body: Identity, Discourse, and Racial Politics in Popular Media (Albany: State University of New York, 2006). 20. Candace West and Sarah Fenstermaker, “Doing Difference,” Gender and Society 9 (1995): 8–37. 21. Stuart Hall, Representation: Cultural Representation and Signifying Practices (London: Sage, 1997), 37. 22. Gloria H. Dickinson, “Pledged to Remember: Africa in the Life and Lore of Black Greek-letter Organizations,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips, 11–35 (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005). 23. Ibid. 24. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101, 43. 25. Hugh Hefner started Playboy magazine in 1953. The magazine is the best known entity of Playboy Enterprises, Inc., a media and entertainment company. The Playboy logo—an image of a bunny wearing a bowtie and collar—is used by Playboy and was used by members of Kappa Alpha Psi. 26. Michael Omi and Howard Winant, Racial Formation in the United States: From the 1960s to the 1990s (New York: Routledge, 1994), 55. 27. E. T. Gordon, “Cultural Politics of Black Masculinity,” Transforming Anthropology 6 (1997): 36–53. 28. Ibid. 29. Robert C. Bogdan and Sari Knopp Biklen, Qualitative Research for Education: An Introduction to Theory and Methods (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1998), 38. 30. John Lofland, Analyzing Social Settings: A Guide to Qualitative Observation and Analysis (Belmont, Calif.: Wadsworth, 1971), 13. 31. Robert K. Yin, Case Study Research: Design and Methods (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 1994). 32. Mary F. Hoffman, “Do All Things With Counsel”: Benedictine Women and Organizational Democracy,” Communication Studies 53 (2002): 203–18. 33. Hoffman, “Do All Things With Counsel,” 207. 34. Alessandro Portelli, The Battle of Valle Guilia: Oral History and the Art of Dialogue (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1997). 35. Ibid., 82. 36. Catherine Marshall and Gretchen Rossman, Designing Qualitative Research (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 1998). Thomas R. Lindlof, Qualitative Communication Research Methods (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 1995); W. James Potter, An Analysis of Thinking and Research about Qualitative Methods (Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1996); David Silverman and Amir Marvasti, Doing Qualitative Research: A Comprehensive Guide (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 2008).

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37. Thomas R. Lindlof, Qualitative Communication Research Methods (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 1995). 38. Harper Dickinson, “Pledged to Remember,” 28. 39. Jones, Black Haze, 35. 40. Lawrence Otis Graham, Our Kind of People: Inside America’s Black Upper Class (New York: HarperCollins, 1999); Alan D. DeSantis and Marcus Coleman, “Not on My Line: Attitudes about Homosexuality in Black Fraternities,” in Black Greek-Letter Organizations in the 21st Century, ed. Gregory S. Parks, 291–312 (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008). 41. Ibid. 42. DeSantis and Coleman, “Not on My Line,” 299. 43. Jennifer Crocker, Barbara Major, and Claude M. Steele, “Social Stigma,” in Handbook of Social Psychology, ed. Daniel T. Gilbert, Susan T. Fiske, and Gardner Lindzey, 504–53 (Boston: McGraw-Hill, 1998). 44. John F. Dovidio, Brenda Major, and Jennifer Crocker, “Stigma: Introduction and Overview,” in The Social Psychology of Stigma, ed. Todd F. Heatherton, Robert E. Kleck, Michelle R. Hebl, and Jay G. Hull, 1–28 (New York: Guilford Press, 2000). 45. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101, 173. 46. King-To Yeung, Mindy Stombler, and Renee Wharton, “Making Men in Gay Fraternities: Resisting and Reproducing Multiple Dimensions of Hegemonic Masculinity,” Gender & Society, 20 (2006): 5–31. 47. R. W. Connell, Masculinities (Cambridge: Polity, 2005). 48. Richard Majors and Janet Mancini Billson, Cool Pose: The Dilemmas of Black Manhood in America (New York: Touchstone, 1992). 49. Gregory Parks, “Alpha Phi Alpha: Image (Un)conscious,” http://gregoryparks .blogspot.com/2008/03/alpha-phi-alpha-imageunconscious.html (accessed June 7, 2009). 50. Ibid. 51. Stephen Jay Gould, The Mismeasure of Man (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1981); Nick Haslam, “Dehumanization: An Integrative Review,” Personality and Social Psychology Review 10 (2006): 252–64; Phillip A. Goff, Jennifer L. Eberhardt, Melissa J. Williams, and Matthew Christian Jackson, “Not Yet Human: Implicit Knowledge, Historical Dehumanization, and Contemporary Consequences,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 94 (2008): 292–306. 52. Nick Haslam, “Dehumanization: An Integrative Review,” Personality and Social Psychology Review 10 (2006): 252–64. 53. Ibid. 54. Goff et al., “Not Yet Human,” 304. 55. Giulio Boccato, Dora Capozza, Rossella Falvo, and Federica Durante, “The Missing Link: Ingroup, Outgroup and the Human Species,” Social Cognition 26 (2008): 224–34. 56. Arthur P. Brief, Joerg Dietz, Robin Reizenstein Cohen, S. Douglas Pugh, and Joel B. Vaslow, “Just Doing Business: Modern Racism and Obedience to Authority as Explanations for Employment Discrimination,” Organizational Behavior and Human Decision Processes 81 (2000): 72–97. 57. David O. Sears, “Symbolic Racism,” in Eliminating Racism, ed. Phyllis A. Katz and Dalmas A. Taylor, 53–84 (New York: Plenum Press, 1988). 58. Jackson, Scripting the Black Masculine Body, 12.


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59. Oral histories were collected from several fraternity members. Pseudonyms were use to protect the identity of research participants. The in-depth interviews were structured in a conversational format covering select topics to uncover meaning. Because oral histories were used to collect data, IRB approval was not required because the sample size was small and the data collected does not contribute to generalizable knowledge. 60. Carby, Race Men. 61. Gordon, “Cultural Politics of Black Masculinity.” 62. Keith M. Harris, Boys, Boyz, Bois: An Ethics of Black Masculinity in Film and Popular Media (New York: Routledge, 2006).

Chapter Six Commentary Caryn E. Neumann

Long denied the status and privileges generally associated with masculinity, black men have struggled to form a definition of black manhood. Does the ideal black man focus on intellectual pursuits or on being cool? Should a black man show sexual prowess or sexual restraint? Must a tough man be a bad boy? The following essay considers stereotypes of the “Man’s Man, the Ladies’ Man, and the Gentleman/Scholar” and how they map onto stereotypes of members of Alpha Phi Alpha, Kappa Alpha Psi, and Omega Psi Phi. The study of masculinity began to blossom in the 1990s as the field of gender studies expanded. The vast majority of research has focused on white men. In his 1993 book, American Manhood, the historian E. Anthony Rotundo identified three different definitions of the ideal man. In colonial America, manhood emphasized social bonds and a man’s place as the head of the household. Men showed sexual restraint because they were expected to be in control. In the nineteenth century, the self-made man became the model with a stress on competition and fusing man’s identity to the workplace. In the twentieth century, a “passionate manhood” emerged which emphasized aggression, combativeness, and sexual desire. Obviously, these definitions do not quite fit the course of African American history. Slavery and racism prevented black men from fitting the ideal image. A new historical narrative is needed that includes black men. The authors of this chapter contribute a critical element to this narrative by exploring the paradoxes of black manhood. They note a shift in the meaning of black masculinity since the 1960s that suggests that the self-made man held as the black male ideal for most of the twentieth century until being replaced by the passionate man. As the authors point out, this new ideal is deeply problematic because of its connection to racist images of African American men as animal-like. This chapter is part of what should become an extended discussion in BGLOs about whether fraternities have or have not drifted away from the goals of the founders. 136

Part IV

Racial Identity and Racism


7. Transforming Racism Asian Pacific American Women in African American Sororities Edith Wen-Chu Chen

African American sororities at “Pacific Coast University” were founded in the context of legalized segregation in which African American women as other women of color were excluded from joining Panhellenic or historically white sororities.1 Among the sixteen sororities at Pacific Coast University (PCU), four are currently African American sororities. Pi Zeta Mu, the first African American sorority established at PCU, was chartered in 1923, followed a year later by Beta Tau. University policy did not officially ban the discriminatory policies of historically White sororities and fraternities until 1964. Despite the decline of legalized racial barriers, Pi Zeta Mu and Beta Tau continue to exist to this day. In addition to these two sororities, Gamma Phi Alpha and Kappa Phi Kappa are the two newest African American sororities at PCU, both established within the past two decades. There is a dearth of scholarship on nonblack membership in black Greekletter organizations, sororities in particular. We know little about the social process of members’ experiences in the organizations, how they are perceived by their African American “sorors,” their motivations, and how race impacts their dynamic with other African American sisters. The majority of current scholarship on individuals’ experiences within black Greek-letter organizations, in fact, focuses almost exclusively on those of white members. Although rare, whites have joined BGLOs since at least 1946.2 Marjorie T. Ware and Miss Olive Young are two such early white members of black Greek sororities, who joined Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority in 1949.3 Their desire to join the organization stemmed from their moral convictions in human rights issues, particularly racial integration. Early honorary members of black Greek-letter sororities include humanitarian and former first lady Eleanor Roosevelt4 and assistant secretary of labor in the Kennedy administration, 139

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Esther Peterson.5 In 1969, Delta Sigma Theta inducted La Donna Harris, noted Native American civil rights leader, as an honorary member.6 African American sorority history is largely one of nonwhite membership, yet, whites, as well as Asian Americans and Latinas hold membership in today’s African American sororities and fraternities.7 African Americans comprise approximately 7 percent of the total female student population at PCU. Approximately 5 percent of these women join African American sororities. During the 1996–1997 school year, an estimated fifty women belonged to one of the four African American sororities at PCU.8 Ninety percent of these women were of African American ancestry. At least ten Asian American women belonged to African American sororities at PCU from 1992 to 1997. Their experiences illustrate another form of incorporation that departs from the classical model of assimilation. Asian American women’s participation in African American sororities reveals social processes that underlie one form of incorporation, in which minority members become integrated into another minority community that is not socially defined as their own. Although their stories are few in number, they fundamentally sharpen our understanding of race in this post–civil rights era. A study on Asian Americans who belong to African American sororities furthers our understanding of today’s growing multicultural reality and provides deeper insight regarding minority-minority relationship dynamics. Much of the popular discourse on this issue focuses on African-American-Asian conflict. This attention overrides the much more complex and the lesser-known scholarship on Asian African relationships, cooperation, and collaboration.9 This chapter examines five Asian American women’s experiences in African American sororities. In order to comprehend their voices and actions, their experiences require social context. Prior to my main analysis, I provide an overview of African American sororities’ social structure at Pacific Coast University. I pay particular attention to the relationship between African American sororities and the larger African American community, those perceived as “mainstream” or white Americans, and Asian American women. I then proceed to my main analysis, which examines the social processes underlying the incorporation of the five Asian American women. I argue that by participating in African American sororities, Asian American women further develop their identities as women of color and directly challenge racial hierarchies.

Methodology I obtained access to the informants in this study through various ethnographic methods. Because there are so few Asian American women in African American sororities, obtaining participants was challenging. At the time of this

Asian Pacific American Women in BGLOs

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study, there were three Asian American women in the African American sororities at PCU—all of whom I interviewed. By speaking with the president of the National Pan-Hellenic Council (the governing body of BGLOs), the presidents of each of these sororities, current members, and alumni, I identified ten women of Asian descent who joined African American sororities during the years 1992–1997. Of these ten women, five had no African American ancestry, one woman had a Japanese and European American background, two were Filipinas,10 one had a Korean, white, and Native American background, and another was East Indian. The other five had one African American and one Asian American parent: two women of Japanese heritage, one of Vietnamese heritage, one of Hawaiian heritage, and one I did not identify with a particular racial group. Most of these women were alumni and difficult to locate. Yet, I located five of these women. Once contacted, they willingly shared their experiences with me, due in part, perhaps, to a sense of obligation to their perceived sororal and racial obligations. As one woman said, “Anything to help the community.” Table 1. Ethnic Background of Informants Name

Ethnic/racial background

Anna

Japanese and European American

Cameron

Asian Pacific and African American

Karen

Filipina

Mary

Korean, Native American, and European American

Tamara

Japanese and African American

African American Sororities at Pacific Coast University I describe here the African American sororities at PCU including their goals and ethos, climate regarding those of non–African American ancestry, membership recruitment and intake processes, fees and requirements, activities, and the espoused and potential benefits of joining a sorority. I also provide a brief discussion on the participants.

Goals and Ethos

BGLOs are historically rooted in and driven by their principled commitment to various black communities and the notion of racial uplift.11 Black sororities are more than social organizations; they are politically oriented, as evinced by events sponsored during “Black Greek Week.” For example, preceding new black fraternity and sorority members’ main presentations or “probates” to

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campus,12 the week begins with presentations from other African American student organizations including programs about Minority Tutoring, the Campaign to Preserve Affirmative Action, and the Minority Mentorship Program. These programs emphasized the need for African Americans to support one another and to struggle collectively to strengthen both their group and individual identities. As one presenter asserted, “I would not be here [at PCU] if it were not for Dr. Martin Luther King.” Presenters encouraged everyone to get involved in minority focused organizations regardless of their decision to join a black Greek organization. During Black Greek Week, black sororities also held a dance, participated in a step show,13 and sponsored Angela Davis, a well-known African American feminist scholar and activist, to speak at a rally protesting policies that would eliminate affirmative action. African American sororities in general highly value community service. Activities in this vein typically focus on issues of inequality in terms of race, class, and/or gender. Examples include hosting a Christmas party for children in the “Head Start” program, raising money for the Judy Davis bone marrow program, tutoring students in low-income neighborhoods, sponsoring a singleparenting summit, and other social, economic, and political activities that affect African Americans in disproportionate rates. Like other African American organizations,14 the African American Greek system fosters black pride in its members. Black pride involves the rejection of white hegemonic definitions of African Americans as inferior and calls for selfdefinition and self-determination. African traditions and themes are embedded in many sorority and fraternity rituals. In some ways, these organizations reflect the ideologies of nation-based paradigms15 that insist on “the autonomy of culture, values, aesthetic standards, and so on.”16 African American sororities’ definitions of beauty illustrate the emphasis placed on self-definition. Mainstream American beauty standards emphasize characteristics typically attributed to white, Western women, such as blonde straight hair, blue eyes, and a thin frame. This valorized ideal simultaneously denigrates classical African features characterized by “dark skin, broad noses, full lips, and kinky hair.”17 Sorority sisters often use the term “beautiful” or “lovely” when describing their members in a public forum as in “The Beautiful Women of Gamma Phi Alpha present . . .” or “The Lovely Ladies of Pi Zeta Mu invite you to . . .” Given that their selection process emphasizes “strength” and “character” and includes a wide variety of physical appearances (see membership intake process below), this standard of beauty not only sees black women as physically beautiful but also emphasizes their persona as well. This ethos is similar to Patricia Hill Collins’s Womanist perspective on beauty in which “women’s beauty is not based solely on physical criteria because mind, spirit, and body are not conceptualized as separate, oppositional spheres.”18


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Membership Recruitment

Nearly all of the women who participated in this study were involved with the African American community prior to joining a BGLO. Until recently, unlike Asian American and “mainstream” sororities, African American sororities did not hold open invitations to participate in rush at PCU.19 Black sororities traditionally hold events, whether social, informational, or related to community service, where active members and prospective members become acquainted with one another. African American sororities vary in their relative willingness to consider Asian American women and other nonblacks as potential members. The data, while limited, suggest that the more established and perhaps more prestigious African American sororities, Beta Tau and Pi Zeta Mu at PCU, are less willing to accept Asian American women, or any nonblack woman, into their organization. While these sororities do not limit their membership to black women according to formal policies, they effectively exclude nonblack women through more informal methods. For example, “Karen,” a second-generation Filipina, recalls her experience at one of the more established sorority’s socials: There was a social at the Beta Tau house, out in another part of town. And you had to dress up. They called it a tea but we didn’t have any tea [laughs]. I stood out like a sore thumb. I was the only one who wasn’t black. I was the only one. One thing happened that I kinda thought I was dog’d. I felt a little dissed [disrespected], like completely ignored. What happened was I was the first one to show up. And it turned out that they gave prizes. And one of the door prizes was for the first person who showed up. They didn’t give it to me. I didn’t say anything. You know, I wasn’t like, “Hey wait a minute.” But I think, it would’ve been embarrassing to give it to someone who wasn’t black. Ultimately, Karen was granted membership in the organization. Later, a member accidentally revealed to her that she was rejected partially due to her race. Perhaps the Beta Taus’ hesitancy to grant Asian Americans and other nonblack membership stems from anxiety that some African Americans feel regarding nonblacks possible commitment to BGLO ideals, “black pride” in particular. The Beta Taus are notorious for preferring light-skinned African American women; in fact, many African Americans have been historically criticized for their prejudice against darker-skinned African American women. 20 Other BGLO members seemed to view such a preference for lighter-skinned women as an acceptance of white hegemonic definitions of beauty.21 In fact, friends encouraged both participants of African and Asian ancestry, and often of lighter complexion, to join Beta Tau. In addition, they tended to prefer

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African American women from middle- and upper-class backgrounds, much more so than other black sororities. Given these color and class preferences, maintaining an all-black membership allowed the sorority to claim a sense of black pride. Their hesitancy to include nonblack members may therefore be a way to negotiate the tension between maintaining a level of elitism that has been somewhat influenced by predominant white cultural standards at the same time attempting to maintain notions of black pride, struggle, and racial obligation. The other more established organization, Pi Zeta Mu, has a reputation for its “pro-black” stance and is said to comparatively more “militant” than other sororities. Compared to the Beta Taus, their members tended to have darker skin tones. Unlike Karen’s experience with Beta Tau, Pi Zeta Mu’s members openly shared their feelings regarding Asian Americans and nonblacks joining their organization: The Pi Zeta Mus are impossible to get into if you are not black. It’s like “Don’t even think about it.” Like a lot of my girlfriends who are Pi’s did not hesitate to tell me, “Oh, no. There will never be an Asian girl in my sorority,” or “there will never be a white girl in my sorority.” Conversely, two later established organizations, Gamma Phi Alpha and Kappa Phi Kappa, seem to more openly accept Asian Americans and other nonblack women. As one sorority member reassured Anna, who is of Japanese and European ancestry and a was prospective member at the time, “Don’t even worry; it’s not a color thing. It’s about who you are comfortable with.” Nine out of the ten Asian American women who belonged to black sororities during 1992–1997 belonged to one of the two newer sororities. The one woman who had belonged to one of the earlier established sororities also had African American ancestry. This is not to say that all members in the two later established organizations agreed in allowing Asian Americans to participate. Anna reveals that despite the general acceptance of her membership, a few members questioned her presence within the organization: I’ve had people come back to me and say, “I’m not going to tell you who said it but I overheard someone say, ‘What can she do for a black organization’ or ‘Who is she trying to be?’” I guess they think that I’m a perpetrator, I guess kind of like, “Oh, she just wants to be black.” And that’s not even the case. . . . Like I said I agree with them [other sorority sisters who say] that it’s just probably ignorance. Because I’m doing a lot to help out the black community. And some people who make comments don’t do anything, so that’s why it hurts me when they say that because I’m trying to help their community, help out and


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their culture out. And a lot of these people . . . it makes me mad too . . . is that half of these people are half black and half white. And they have white mothers and they’re like, “Oh what is [she] trying to be, like nonblack in this organization.” So there is people that I hear that have said stuff. Generally speaking, Asian American women, in particular those with no African American ancestry, struggled more to be accepted in black sororities than those who had some African American ancestry.

Membership Intake Process

The sorority membership selection process is based upon a series of interviews, socials, transcripts, letters of recommendations, and prospective members’ letters of intent articulating why they hope to join the sorority. While mainstream Greek sororities tend to value good looks (based upon European American definitions) in potential members, African American sororities tend to place greater importance on character. Often describing desirable candidates as “strong women,” potential members stressed the importance of maturity, inner strength, intelligence, loyalty, leadership, and racial consciousness and other characteristics that can contribute to the organization in the greater struggle for racial and gender equality. The emphasis sororities place on character is evinced by extensive interview processes, which may last several weeks and often include questions such as “Give me a definition of sisterhood,” “What can you contribute to our organization?” “What do you hope to get out of this organization?” “What are your strengths?” and “What is your biggest weakness?” Mary, who is of Japanese and African American descent, discusses the qualities she looked for in a potential member: It was just about character. Were you a flaky person? Are you the type of person who’s going to run and tell every little business that we have? What type of person are they? Are they trustworthy? When it comes to standing up to your sorority sisters, are you going to pick a guy, are you going to have a catty fight over some guy? . . . Is this someone I can trust and really call my sister? Furthermore, unlike the mainstream sororities, women in the black sororities had a variety of body types, looks, and class backgrounds. Beta Tau is a notable exception, which was notorious for preferring middle- and upper-class lightskinned African American women. While they seemed to value external images, they also purported to value strength and character. If prospective members were deemed worthy to join an organization, they go “on line,” an illegal, and on account secretive and grueling, pledge process during which new members are mentally and physically tested for three to eight weeks. This testing process includes asking pledges to accurately and precisely

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recite the organization’s history along with the history of the other BGLOs, and requiring pledges to work together as a cohesive group. Most individuals interviewed gave vague answers about this secretive process, but one member described injuries and a near-death experience.

Results Construction of a Nonwhite Identity

As mentioned earlier, these Asian American women participated in various endeavors connected with African Americans prior to their interest in joining an African American sorority. They differ from Asian American women in the mainstream and Asian American sororities in their ability to articulate the many ways that white racism shaped their lives. For these women, affiliating with a black sorority as opposed to a white sorority was a continuation of their construction of an identity that was in opposition to whiteness. Two women grew up in minority-dominated communities with a significant number of African Americans. Perhaps their neighborhood environments laid the foundation for developing a nonwhite identity. However, their repeated interactions with whites at schools and public places crystallized their understanding of racial hierarchy and an identity opposed to whiteness. “Mary,” who is of Korean, American Indian, and white ancestry, cites her negative interactions with whites as the reason she did not join a mainstream, predominately white sorority: My father’s half-white, half American Indian. His mom’s American Indian. I was born in North Carolina. He’s quote, unquote a redneck. And he married my mom in Korea and brought her here. And then didn’t want to educate her, didn’t want to help her at all. And then he left her for a white woman. I remember when I was younger, he treated the white woman much better than he treated my mom and I think one of the reasons is because she was Asian. And I hear how he talks about Asian women—how we’re weak, things like that. And I’ve seen the way other white men, when I see them with Asian girls—how they treat them. And I don’t trust my father because of that. I have a white sister—an all-white sister. She’s my half-sister and I saw the difference in the way that he treated me and the way that he treated her. And it’s because I’m Asian. And because of that and the way that I’ve seen white people treat minorities, I’m very, very hesitant to trust white people and it’s odd because I am a quarter white. And maybe that’s why I never pledged a white sorority. If there weren’t a black sorority, or [pause] and if there weren’t an Asian sorority, I wouldn’t have been in a sorority at all. There’s no way.


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I then asked her to elaborate on what she meant by how “white people have treated minorities.” “Mary” continued to recount in great detail, without much pause, the conferred privileges whites possess. Okay. [Because of a busing program] I went to an all-white high school. There were thirteen minority students when I first entered that high school. Whenever there was trouble, it was always all of us minority students that were questioned. That first year, for example, my biology class kept these photo albums. When some photo albums were missing, the first people that were questioned were my friends and I. Any time there was trouble, it was us. We all tend to dress alike—big baggy pants and stuff. We’re from housing projects. We were sent home to change our clothes because it was, um, it was “distracting,” it was somewhat “gang attire” and it was “inappropriate.” At the same time, you would see white girls wearing the same kind of jeans—big, baggy jeans. They would never be sent home. I was told that I should go to trade school. I shouldn’t go to college, I should go to trade school to help my mom because immigrants can’t, or they’ll never get to the status of other people. I’ve never seen that happen to white people. Even the white people from the housing projects—they were told go further. Why was I told to go to a trade school? Things like that. Teachers were hard on us. In the beginning, they talked down to us. At that time, there had never been a minority [in a top student body position]. I held a student body position called pep commissioner. I was the emcee of all the rallies and stuff like that. I was the first minority to ever hold that position. And then I came to PCU, I was a theater major. Asians were always cast in that round about role [not race specific]. There was never roles for Asians. Never. Whenever there were Latino roles, they always had a stereotype. Black people always spoke with slang. But the white people always got the good roles. Always got the good roles. Um . . . things like in our school, we audition behind the screen. I can sing and you would never expect [that voice from the way I look]. I’ve been told I have a black voice. I was raised in a gospel church. So the whites would first say, “Oh this girl [Mary] sings better, this girl sings better” and it’d be an all round about role, which means not race specific. And then they would look at me and they looked at this [white] girl who was auditioning with me and they said, “Oh, but we can do more with her,” meaning it’d be hard to match make-up, stage make-up, to my skin, compared to hers, which was fair. I just saw a lot of that kind of thing. Being Asian is hard because people say, “Well, her eyes are too slanted” at times. When my hair was straightened, all the white people were like “You look too Asian, you need to let your hair go back” and things like that. And it’s just [pause] I got tired of it. I got really tired of it. More importantly, I saw how people treated my mom. Cause my mom speaks with an accent and they talk down to her like

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she’s dumb and the thing is my mom was very educated in Korea. She’s one of the smartest people in the south part of it [Korea]. And she understands what they’re saying, just because she doesn’t pronunciate it right. Or they’d laugh and not take her seriously. Because of that, my distrust [for whites] just kept growing and growing. Mary’s testimony exemplifies the participants’ level of racial awareness and their cognizance of their position within the white power structure. For these Asian American women, Panhellenic sororities typify many of the predominantly white organizations that perpetuate race and class hierarchies. Similarly, Anna, who is of both Japanese and European American ancestry, remarked that she had little desire to associate herself with organizations that are elitist, “discriminatory,” and indifferent to issues of inequality. Several women grew up in predominantly white suburbs where they internalized messages that degraded their difference. These messages were oftentimes subtle, but nevertheless systematically defined these women as the “other.” Several women coped or reacted by attempting to “pass” as white; they downplayed their cultural identity, attempting to alter their physical features to look more like whites. “Karen,” a second-generation Filipina, reflects back on her high school days on the subtle and not-so-subtle forms of racism she faced:

Like most of my high school friends were white. But I had always felt—and this is really vivid—I’d always felt out of place. I remember coming home one time, and crying, telling my mom because I didn’t have long blonde hair [laughs] and wishing I was white. Thinking that I could dye my hair and it would turn blonde. And it actually turned orange instead. Things like that. And the fact that I had really thicker lips than most people. In junior high, I had this really big overbite, and so my lips were just, or so I thought, they were enormous. And people commented on that which made me very self-conscious. Things like my hair, people, even my closest friends, would say that I had pubic hair, that I was wearing pubic hair, or whatever. So I knew I was different. And my friends made it clear that I was different. Their decision not to identify with whites came after high school. Attending college where they were exposed to ethnic organizations and ethnic studies courses for the first time led them to critique whiteness and embrace their ethnic and racial heritages. “Tamara,” who is both Japanese and African American, recalls the pivotal role the Black Student Union and a multicultural environment played in her reinterpretation of her high school experiences: Getting involved in BSU [Black Student Union] and other ethnic organizations were critical points for me. They totally opened my eyes to something I had no


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idea of. I look back and think, “I carried around that shame for so long.” I was just afraid to be me. Now, I don’t care. I really had serious self-esteem problems coming out of high school. It wasn’t until college and exposure to cultural identity in general . . . like Filipino, religious groups . . . . I realized people are different and proud to be who they are. I never saw that before. We never had like ethnic groups or cultural identity or pride festivals. All of sudden it was like “wow.” It’s hard to believe that I grew up 30 minutes from here and I lived in such a shell. I think it’s really important for people to be proud of who they are and to identify with that . . . not to just shut people out . . . just take what they have and be proud of it. Both Karen and Tamara grew up in predominantly white neighborhoods and reflected angrily upon several childhood experiences. These women reported that they grew away from their white friends after going to college. They viewed severing ties with their previous high school friends as a healthy step toward their personal development and emancipation from the white hegemony they once internalized. All interviewees consciously avoided predominately white organizations such as Panhellenic sororities not to identify with the white power structure.

Identifying with Other Racial Minorities

When I explain my project to others, most are unsurprised that there are Asian Americans in mainstream sororities or in Asian American sororities. Most people are, however, frequently confounded to know that there are “Asian American women in black sororities.” Perhaps the notion of Asian American women in Panhellenic or mainstream sororities is not surprising since these organizations are not race specific, and at least in theory, open to all regardless of race, ethnicity, or national origin. More convincingly, whiteness continues to be seen as the desired norm. Therefore, the idea of Asian Americans affiliating with a predominately white organization is understandable. At the same time, most people are not surprised that Asian Americans would be in Asian American sororities. But the fact that it is unusual is telling of U.S. race relations dynamics in which the norm continues to be one of Anglo-Saxon cultural superiority and racial segregation. In addition, despite some improvement with regard to racial ideology, essential notions of race that view these categories as different, distinct, and real continue to pervade dominant understandings of race. Some scholars argue that African Americans have been at the bottom of the racial hierarchy while Asian Americans reside in the middle—above that of African American and Latinos but below that of whites.22 Hence people who ask, “Asian American women in black sororities?” may wonder why Asian Americans would want to affiliate with the bottom of the racial hierarchy. Growing up in an affluent white community, Tamara, a light-skinned African

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American and Japanese American woman, discusses white hegemony and racial hierarchy: Before I went to college, I remember when people would ask me what my heritage was, I felt that Japanese was more acceptable than black so there were times when I would tell people that I was Japanese and American or Japanese American. I wouldn’t mention my father was black . . . to me when I grew up, that was nothing to be proud of and that I was more ashamed of it. I hate that I was like that. I was more ashamed of my black side of my heritage. Because my father is light-skinned, I could pass as Japanese American. My hair wasn’t as curly then. So when people would put me on the spot and ask me, I would think that saying I was Japanese would be ok because there were other Japanese and Asians in Pacific Beach. But being Asian wasn’t necessarily ok. Sometimes people would say jokes and talk about Asian drivers or talk about slanted eyes. It made me not proud of who I was. You just had to laugh and go with it and not really speak out. I might even think that they weren’t necessarily talking about me because I was only half. Then I would get mad because I would be like they’re making fun of my mom. I couldn’t express that to anybody. I wouldn’t be in the “in” group. Hence this white hegemony often made Tamara ashamed of both identities, but she was often more willing to claim her Japanese side given its better, although still stigmatized image in the racial hierarchy of the United States. The notion that Asian Americans are the “better” minority as illustrated in Tamara’s experience has been part of the public discourse on race relations during this post– civil rights era. Popular accounts often depict Asian Americans as the “good” or “model” minority while portraying African Americans as the “bad” minority and thereby deflecting issues of institutionalized inequality and white privilege.23 The normative narrative on Asian and African Americans in popular discourse rarely discusses their shared history of racial oppression despite their differences.24 These Asian American women deviate from normative perceptions of race by participating in African American sororities. Unlike the Panhellenic and Asian American sororities, African American sororities place racism at the center of many of their conversations, public events, and service efforts. These Asian American women developed a sense of racial awareness prior to joining an African American sorority, and therefore felt connected to the sororities’ ethos. As one woman stated, “I felt like I could relate.” Rather than viewing their struggles as unique and separate, they all identify with other racial minorities in the larger struggle for racial equality. “Mary,” who is of Korean, Native American, and European descent, passionately discusses her heritage and how she relates to African Americans and other minorities in their struggles.


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My ethnicity is my strength. It’s my pride. I am three things if you ask me. I am Christian, I am Korean, and I am Indian. And I take very much pride in that. I take very much pride in my community, not just as a Korean woman or not just as a Creek woman, but as a minority woman. So for those minority groups, I would do my damnedest to work to help better those communities because I see how people are treated. And I’m not going to come out like my mom was [who has been mistreated by the larger society], you know, and I don’t want anybody else to have to be like that either. So I believe that talk is cheap and I really believe in action so that’s why I get so involved in community things. Like that’s why I do the tutoring and I do the bus buddies and those groups like that. Especially in my sorority; our motto is “Greater service, greater progress.” And that’s what I base my life around. So it’s kind of second nature for me to become involved and I’ve never not had enough time. I’ve never not had enough time.

The women recognized that Asian Americans, African Americans, Latinos, and American Indians experience interconnected struggles. Commitment to the community and racial uplift are neither superficial community service efforts nor side hobbies. Their community work is, rather, a lifestyle and ethos they live by. In fact, Asian sororities’ relatively low involvement in the community and dedication to racial consciousness was one reason these women joined African American sororities instead. As they told members in the black sororities during the recruitment process, participants were drawn to the organization because of their commitment to community service, ability to speak against racism, and the ideals of collective struggle. “Karen,” a second-generation Filipina, recalls her response at an interview to a member who asked, “So why do you want to join a black sorority?” While at the same time I was trying to answer it for somebody else, I was also trying to answer it for myself, you know. “Why did I want to be in a black sorority?” Because to me, the sorority exemplified the strength that I wanted in women. That I actually desired to see and be around women. The fact it was a black sorority, I don’t know if that made it any different. But it wasn’t something that I saw from the Asian and white sororities. Whatever they wanted from me, in terms of community work, I already had tons of community work to my credit. So that was not a problem for me. In fact, that’s what I wanted to do. Commitment to the black community, I was willing and ready to give that as well as commitment to the sorority. Similarly, “Mary,” who is Korean, Native American, and white responds to a member’s question:

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I would say, “I’m not here trying to join a black sorority, I’m here trying to join a sorority.” And that’s all I would ever say. And that was sufficient for them. You know, I was asked, “Why not an Asian sorority?” And then my whole thing was “Because the Asian sororities don’t do the community service work that you do. Asian sororities don’t show me the sisterhood that you do.” I joined an organization. I didn’t join a black organization. That’s not why I joined it. And that’s what I explained to them. I didn’t join your organization or try to join your organization because you’re black women. I joined it because of the organization. Asian Americans who openly discussed and condemned racism went against conventional norms to preserve the status quo, but also defy Asian ideals of femininity, which require that they be passive, agreeable, pleasant, and happy. “Karen,” a second-generation Filipina, drew contrast between the “strong women” in black sororities and the “cutesy” women in Asian American sororities: [These women were] strong in the sense that they were always putting events on. The focus was very community and politically oriented. What I saw with the Asian sororities was that it was really social. That annoyed me. I mean, they did all these, like cutesy things, you know, like Big Sister/Little Sister day. And they had all these ads. Oh, what really bugged me were those ads in the back of the campus newspaper! You know, “Love you, Big Sis” and all these hearts around. To me, it was like playing with dolls. It was too cute. But with the black sororities, they were very community oriented, very politically oriented, very much into the preservation of the black family by way of being economically strong and politically strong. So that totally attracted me. I was already coming from the mindset of political activism, especially concerning race relations. I was really involved with student government, tutoring minority students, very much into Affirmative Action, and Ethnic Gender Studies. So to me just being in a black sorority, being in Beta Tau, was just another way to further that. None of this cutesy stuff. I didn’t have time for that. Similarly, another respondent critiqued Asian sororities, saying, “They were a white sorority except they just had Asian eyes. I’m not down for assimilation like that.”

Articulation of an Asian American Identity

Although these women participated in African American sororities, they highly valued their ability to claim, express, and reaffirm their Asian Pacific American identities. Every woman interviewed emphasized the importance of spending time with their families. Anna, who is of both Japanese and European descent, gladly took time off from her busy work schedule to spend time with her


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cousins who were visiting from Japan. “Cameron,” who is often mistaken for only African American, underscored the importance of keeping in touch with her Hawaiian relatives and attending her cousins’ hula performances. In addition, several publicly displayed their Asian ethnicities through the use of symbols. For example, “Tamara” wore a necklace every day with her Japanese name written in kanji characters. A Japanese good-luck charm also hangs from her car’s rearview mirror. “Anna” chose “Asian Spice” as her sorority nickname, a name that adorned the majority of her sorority’s attire. Two other interviewees were also heavily involved in both on- and off-campus Asian Pacific American organizations. Beyond participating in various Asian Pacific American activism and cultural organizations, Mary taught Sunday School at a Korean church. “Karen,” a second-generation Filipina, was very active in the Pilipino student organization. These women therefore continued to articulate their Asian Pacific ethnic identities while participating in African American sororities. By further exploring and claiming their identities as women of color, their participation in an African American sorority complemented rather than displaced their Asian Pacific ethnic identity. Clearly, these women struggled to assert and articulate their Asian and Pacific identities, given that some of their sorority sisters so heavily emphasized the need to maintain essential notions of “blackness.” For “Karen,” who often is mistaken to have African American ancestry, her admission of being Filipina kept her from becoming a member of Beta Tau, one of the more established African American sororities. For other women, their preference about which organization they wished to join was in part influenced by the different organizations’ notions of blackness. With the exception of “Karen,”25 all the women preferred the newly established sororities to the older and seemingly more exclusive sororities. Perhaps the women had little choice but to join the newer established sororities due to strict notions of blackness held by the more-established sororities. However, even those women of African American ancestry who were more likely to be accepted by the more-established organizations preferred the newly established organizations because they were relatively open toward potential members in general, especially in terms of racial backgrounds. Cameron, who is of African American and Hawaiian ancestry, discusses her rationale for joining Kappa Phi Kappa, one of the newly established organizations: I always knew I wanted to join an African American sorority. The organizations that I heard of were the Beta Tau and Pi Zeta Mu [the more-established black sororities]. And I met the Pis. And they were way stuck up and cold shoulder. I didn’t have time. I don’t have time if I’m trying to pursue something in your organization. The Beta Taus were stuck on color and stuff like that. Everyone kept telling me, “Well, you’re light skinned. You’re gonna be in

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Beta Tau.” And I was like, “I’m not joining anything that’s gonna define me by my color. I have enough problems.” And with Kappa Phi Kappa, there were so many different arrays of women. We have track runners, artists, people in the school of film and television, business majors, history, English, just way diverse. All different shapes, sizes, and colors. There were people who were Indian, as in people from India. You have African American, Asian, Latino. There’s so many different people. I could just really relate to that. Cameron therefore joined Kappa Phi Kappa in part because it gave her the space to include her Hawaiian identity. Although the more newly established organizations may have been more open to women of different racial groups, the women still faced occasional resistance when they expressed their Asian Pacific ethnic identities. Cameron, who was readily accepted by her sorority sisters in part because she “passes” as African American, refuses to deny her Hawaiian ancestry despite pressure from her sorority to impose an all-black identity. The sorority doesn’t see me as different [from other African Americans] because they don’t know my family background. . . . Whereas I know that I’ve grown up primarily with African American friends and that’s my niche. But at home, among family [from my mother’s side] there’s that Asian background that I will not let die. . . . One of my sorority sisters met my grandfather. He came from Hawaii about two weeks ago. And she was like, “Whoa, you really are Hawaiian.” Cuz they think it’s just something I say. I’m like, “Yes, I was born there.” But they’re like, “No, no, you’re black.” I’m like, “Look, there’s more to me than that. Don’t just classify me to that because you’re really slapping my mom in the face when you do that.” ’Cuz she has no African American in her at all. . . . I will tell you what I am. I’m not afraid to admit to my culture. Although most of the time the women not easily identifiable as black were “given as much love as anybody else,” their sorority sisters frequently treated them negatively, ranging from suspicion to outright physical and verbal abuse. Cameron, the only interviewee phenotypically African American, did not experience such negative treatment. Given their numerical minority status within the organization, these women were surprisingly forthright in claiming their Asian identities despite the occasional hostile attitudes they faced regarding their ethnicity. “Mary,” who was perhaps the most bold in asserting her racial identity, discusses the difficulties she faced while “on line”: While I was on line [going through the pledge process], I was hazed the hardest. They tried to beat me off line to see if the Asian girl would drop. That’s why my sands [pledge sisters] tried to protect me because they realized that I


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would get punished the hardest ’cause I’m not the black person. But it made me stronger. And that’s the whole point. They’re not going to be easy on anybody. They are total bitches when you’re on line. They make you hate them. They are mean. In some ways, they are cruel. And it’s to shed out the weak link because . . . if I fall, I have to be able to trust that my sands is going to catch me. And that’s what they did. Actually what it did to me was take more pride in my Asian culture because “Yes, I am Asian. Yes, my skin is yellow. And I’m damn proud of that and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let another woman or another person make me feel guilty because of that. And I will stand stronger.” And it was more like I stood stronger because I took my strength from the fact that they were giving me a hard time because I’m Korean. Well, I’m going to use my Korean, my ethnicity, to keep me up. Although Mary’s experience may be an extreme example of negative hostility toward Asian Pacific American women, particularly those of nonblack ancestry, it nevertheless is consistent with reports from other interviewees. More significantly, her experience highlights these women’s insistence that they assert their Asian and Pacific racial identities despite any hostility they experienced because they were not black. For some of the interviewees, the articulation of their Asian identities was in part inspired by the ethos embedded in the black sororities. The women expanded the framework of oppositional consciousness that was rooted in the black struggle to include aspects of the Asian American experience. “Tamara,” who is of black and Japanese ancestry, translated the ethos of taking pride in “black culture” to also include taking pride in her Japanese culture: I think that being culturally identified being black also made me proud of being part of any culture in general. Joining the black sorority and being involved with BSU also made me prouder of both. Anytime you’re involved around pride in a culture, any other culture you have going on, those are going to lift too. Having swayed so far to the right from my cultural identity [in trying to fit in with whites], once I hit college, I really swung the other way and really got involved in those groups. For Mary, her rearticulation of an oppositional consciousness enabled her to relate that pride to other members of her sorority as well. As “Mary” details below, her sisters expand on the original meaning of sisterhood, which originally was informed by the collective struggle of African American women, in such a way that it recognizes and claims her Asian American identity: The friendships I have now are stronger than I’ve ever seen. They’re stronger than I’d ever imagined. I have sisters now. And the fact that I’m Asian—in a

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way, my sands have told me it makes them proud because they can say, “You know, I have a Korean sister.” And when we say, “This is my sister,” we really mean it. They have stood up for me when people have questioned my race or you know, whether they joke around or not before people got to know me. For example, when we stepped at a competition, someone asked one of my sorority sisters, “Is she black?” and she’s like, “No, my sands is . . .” and she broke it down for them. And there were times when we’d go anywhere and I’m introduced to anyone and they’ll say, “She’s half Korean, she’s this, she’s that and she’s the Rock of her line.”26 You know. It’s kind of like they’re very proud of that or they’ll be the first to say, “We did not discriminate on the basis of race. Mary’s half-this, you know, or she’s that.” So in that respect, they always have my back. They’ve wanted to come to Koreatown, taste Korean food. You know they’ve met my mom. It’s all working out. Mary also taught her sisters Korean American cultural customs and raised awareness regarding issues in the Asian American community such as Asian immigrant garment workers’ plight and stereotypes that pervade their university community and society in general.

Conclusion Minority-dominated organizations may be safe havens against racism, but they are not inherently oppositional, as evinced by many Asian American fraternities and sororities.27 African American sororities serve both social- and service-oriented purposes and provide members an opportunity to engage in organized collective resistance. Asian American women who join these sororities are therefore able to foster their oppositional ideologies, described here as a woman of color sensibility. This includes constructing an identity that is in opposition to whiteness and identifying with other racial minorities. Moreover, these women did not simply adopt the given oppositional ideology within their African American sororities, but interpreted it to fit their women of color identities. Hence the original oppositional ideology of “Black Pride,” community empowerment, and self-determination for many African Americans went hand in hand with Asian pride, American Indian pride, Hawaiian pride, Japanese pride, Filipino pride, the struggle for Garment Workers Rights, and expressions of Asian cultural identities. To what extent the sororities adopted and embraced the Asian American experience is unclear. For the purposes of this chapter, it is the women’s persistence to maintain and articulate their Asian ethnicities despite occasional sentiments from other members to maintain essential notions of blackness that is significant.


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Asian Americans’ choice to join predominately African American arenas makes for an interesting case study regarding post–civil rights race relationships, as Asian Americans more commonly affiliate in predominately white arenas or predominately Asian American arenas when given the choice. Departing from the classic assimilation model, the affiliation of Asian American women in African American arenas illustrates one alternative chosen by some Asian American women in light of continuing racism. Their participation directly challenges racial hierarchies in several ways. First, the organizations that they chose to participate in are ones whose ethos and goals are to fight inequality. Second, as individuals, they break ranks with traditional understandings of race by refusing to adopt notions of Anglo-Saxon superiority, which often pits Asian Americans against African Americans.28 Instead, they choose to embrace and in some ways redefine an oppositional consciousness. By challenging these racial hierarchies, their participation in African American sororities was not one that negated their Asian Pacific ethnic identities, but rather complemented them. The women challenge not only racial hierarchies but also mainstream and Asian concepts of appropriate female behavior. Speaking out against inequality goes against traditional notions of femininity characterized by being pleasant, agreeable, submissive, and uncontroversial. Although some members of African American sororities contest the presence of Asian Americans as members, it is the oppositional ideologies of African American sororities that provide the terrain to allow these women to hone their definitions of resistance, one that is rooted in a woman of color sensibility. Asian American women and African Americans further their identities as women of color and align themselves with other racial minorities. In doing so, they play a role in dismantling white supremacy.

Notes 1. The names of the university, organizations, and people have been changed to maintain the anonymity of informants. 2. Matthew W. Hughey, “Crossing the Sands, Crossing the Color Line: Non-Black Members of Black Greek-Letter Organizations,” Journal of African American Studies 11, no. 1(June 2007): 65. 3. Ibid., 55–75. 4. Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., http://www.aka1908.com/present/membership/ (accessed February 7, 2008). 5. Paula J. Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood: Delta Sigma Theta and the Challenge of the Black Sorority Movement (New York: William Morrow Publishing, 1988), 275. 6. Ibid., 275. 7. Kelly Starling, “Whites in Black Sororities and Fraternities,” Ebony, December 2000, 172–76.

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8. Data from the registrar is incomplete regarding the number of women in African American sororities. The estimated numbers reported here are based on information provided by informants. 9. For further reading on ways Asian American and African Americans have been intertwined, see the excellent work of Gary Y. Okihiro, “Is Yellow Black or White,” in Margins and Mainstreams: Asians in American History and Culture (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1994); Marjorie Lee, Audee Kochiyama-Holman, and Akemi Kochiyama-Sardinha, eds., Passing It On—A Memoir by Yuri Kochiyama (Los Angeles: UCLA Asian American Studies Press, 2004); Scott Kurashige, The Shifting Grounds of Race: Black and Japanese Americans in the Making of Multiethnic Los Angeles (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2007). 10. There is considerable debate among scholars and activists of F/Pilipino ancestry about the use of the term Filipinos or Pilipinos to refer to people who can trace their ancestry to the Philippines. For more reading on this subject, see Allan Aquino’s article, “To ‘P’ or not to ‘P’? That is the question: whether ‘tis more correct to use ‘Pilipino’ instead of ‘Filipino,’” in The Philippine Post Magazine http://www.philpost.com/0599pages/ porf.html (accessed February 15, 2008). 11. Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood. 12. Unlike the Asian American and Panhellenic membership recruitment drives at PCU, African American sororities held their informational jointly with their fraternal counterpart at the time of this study. 13. Step shows have been a tradition of black fraternities and sororities since the 1960s. These group performances involve stomping, clapping, chanting, verbal play, singing, and precise sharp body movements in a rhythmic and coordinated fashion. While stepping may be an African American invention, its roots can be traced back to West African dance. For more discussion on the history and art form of stepping, see Jacqui Malone’s, “Stepping: Regeneration through Dance in African American Fraternities and Sororities,” in Steppin’ on the Blues: The Visible Rhythms of African American Dance (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1996). 14. Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment (New York: Routledge, 1991). 15. Michael Omi and Howard Winant, Racial Formation in the United States: From the 1960s to the 1980s (New York: Routledge, 1994). 16. Ruth Frankenberg, White Women, Race Matters: The Social Construction of Whiteness (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993), 14. 17. Collins, Black Feminist Thought, 78–79. 18. Ibid., 88–89. 19. During the 1996–1997 school year, the African American sororities and fraternities held a Black Greek Week for the first time. This allowed anyone to find out more about black Greek organizations without an invitation from an African American fraternity or sorority member. In previous years, membership recruitment depended upon being acquainted with current members, thereby excluding those who did not know any black Greeks. 20. The interviewees implied that it was common knowledge that the Beta Taus discriminated against darker-skinned African American women when seeking new members. While other African American Greeks may have criticized this biased selection process privately to one another, no organized effort to modify this process was mentioned.


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21. For further discussion on how dominant racial ideologies shape beauty standards and its effects on black women, see Collins, Black Feminist Thought, 78–89. 22. Andrew Hacker, Two Nations: Black and White, Separate, Hostile, Unequal (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1992); Mari Matsuda, Where Is Your Body? And Other Essays on Race, Gender, and the Law (Boston: Beacon Press, 1996); Gin Pang, “Attitudes toward Interracial and Interethnic Relationships and Intermarriage among Korean Americans: The Intersections of Race, Gender and Class Inequality,” in New Visions in Asian American Studies: Diversity, Community, Power, ed. Franklin Ng, Judy Yung, Stephen S. Fugita, and Elaine Kim (Pullman: Washington State University Press, 1994). 23. Keith Hiroshi Osajima, “Breaking the Silence: Race and the Educational Experiences of Asian American College Students,” in Readings on Equal Education, vol. 11, Qualitative Investigations into Schools and Schooling, ed. Michele Foster (New York: AMS Press, 1991); Bob H. Suzuki, “Education and the Socialization of Asian Americans: A Revisionist Analysis of the ‘Model Minority Thesis,’” Amerasia Journal 4, no. 2 (1977). 24. Robert Blauner, Racial Oppression in America (New York: Harper and Row, 1972); Ronald Takaki, A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1993). 25. She preferred Beta Tau because it was one of the African American sororities that she was more familiar with due to her acquaintance with friends who were already members. While she was also friends with members in Pi Zeta Mu, another established organization, they told her outright that their organization would not consider anyone who did not have any African American ancestry. While she interviewed for Beta Tau, a member of Gamma Phi Alpha, one of the later established sororities, asked her to consider joining their sorority. However, she declined because it wasn’t proper protocol to express interest in more than one African American sorority. 26. In African American sororities, the title “Rock of the Line” is given by senior members of the sorority to one of the newly inducted sisters who has demonstrated the most physical and mental strength during the oftentimes grueling pledge process. She is seen as the strongest force behind the success of the line. 27. Jachinson Chan, “Asian American Interest Fraternities: Competing Masculinities at Play,” in Asian Pacific American Genders and Sexualities, ed. Thomas K. Nakayama (Tempe: Arizona State University, 1999); Edith Wen-Chu Chen, “The Continuing Significance of Race: A Case Study of Asian American Women in White, Asian American, and African American Sororities” (Ph.D. diss., University of California, Los Angeles, 1998). 28. Although the contemporary media often sensationalizes conflicts and differences between African Americans, in reality, there have also been times when African Americans and Asian Americans have fought together against white hegemony. For further discussion, see Okihiro, “Is Yellow Black or White.”

Chapter Seven Commentary Sherry L. Martin

Edith Wen-Chu Chen’s exploration of Asian American women’s experiences in black Greek-letter organizations redirects attention from much publicized conflict between African American and Asian American communities to examples of successful efforts of cooperation, reconciliation, and empowerment. Asian American women voice an underrepresented perspective that deepens our understanding of how “minority members become integrated into another minority community that is not socially their own,” a process attaining increasing salience in our “multicultural reality.” This chapter, a significant contribution to our knowledge of BGLOs, speaks to broad questions about how organizations based on the primacy of race and/or gender evolve to meet the challenge of bridging multiple and overlapping identities for the collective pursuit of common goals. Chen finds that the Asian American women she interviewed who joined historically black sororities voiced a common narrative about how white racism shaped their lived experiences. Past discrimination has led these women to construct an identity “in opposition to whiteness,” an enterprise that they share with African American women. The women interviewed recognize that development of ethnic and cultural pride while subverting multiple and interlocking structures of social inequality demands a collective struggle. Among the many experiences that Chen uncovers, we learn that Asian American women seeking admission to BGLOs encounter cleavages within the African American community around class and skin color. Chen observes that these cleavages are more sharply defined between organizations than within them. Consequently, Asian American women found that entry to older sororities was difficult whereas more recently established sororities were more open to recruiting a diverse membership. While some might find these observations disheartening, I found them encouraging. To what extent do the “strict notions of blackness” that older sororities adhere to reveal institutional rigidity that is common across a variety of established organizations? New organizations, in 160

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contrast, must distinguish themselves from and compete with existing institutions; recruiting a diverse membership is one means of doing this. When nonblacks seek membership in BGLOs, they challenge us to reexamine our own practices of identity construction and reproduction. Continued research on the experiences of other groups in BLGOs promises to enrich our understanding of how the tensions that emerge and their resolution contribute to the vitality of a community that is evolving new strategies to address increasingly complex identity issues.

8. The Realities and Consequences of Unconscious Antiblack Bias among BGLO Members Shanette C. Porter and Gregory S. Parks

“As a man thinketh, so is he.” Proverbs 23:7

During the twentieth century, African American men and women founded and propelled black Greek-letter organizations. The broad principles upon which these organizations stand are three-fold: personal excellence (e.g., high academic achievement), brotherhood/sisterhood (e.g., creation and maintenance of fictive-kinship ties), and racial uplift (e.g., campus and community programming, civic action, community service, and philanthropy). Though there is little known about the racial attitudes of African American BGLO members, some have suggested that African American BGLO members develop stronger explicit racial identities than their nonmember counterparts.1 Indeed, given recent research on explicit racial identity and behavior, it seems likely that these strong racial identities provide a driving force behind the implementation of the principles upon which these organizations were founded and are maintained.2 To date, however, there has been no research on BGLO members’ implicit racial attitudes or the potential implications of those attitudes. An implicit attitude is, broadly speaking, a positive or negative evaluation (of a group, belief, object, etc.) whose existence may be unknown to the attitude holder. Likewise, the expression of implicit attitudes may occur outside of voluntary control and/or be unidentifiable as an expression of that attitude by the attitude holder.3 Thus, implicit cognitions are difficult or impossible to introspect, and as a result, people are often unable to report them. Even in cases in which individuals are fully capable of reporting their attitudes, they may be unwilling to reveal them if these attitudes conflict with other, consciously held values or beliefs, or if revealing such attitudes would be socially undesirable.4 162

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For example, a person may have a negative attitude toward a particular racial group, but feel uncomfortable revealing that bias because (s)he believes, or wishes for others to believe, that (s)he is egalitarian. During the early years of attitude research, explicit or self-report measures were the sole tool used to study people’s racial preferences. Explicit measures generally contain a series of questions to which people respond, using scales to indicate the degree of attitude strength (e.g., on a scale of 1–7, “How much do you enjoy interacting with African Americans?”). As might be obvious by now, accurate measurement of implicit attitudes cannot be accomplished by simply asking people to report their beliefs. Thus, within the last few decades, a number of implicit (or indirect) measures have been developed to assess attitudes.5 These measures have several comparative advantages over explicit measures. First, implicit measures allow for the assessment of attitudes that individuals are unable to access explicitly. Second, implicit measures are in practice covert, indirect, or both, to allow for attitude measurement even in situations where individuals possess the motivation and opportunity to conceal their attitudes. Finally, implicit measures are superior to self-report measures in the prediction of certain types of behavior. The issue of attitude-behavior consistency is complex. However, there is some agreement that implicit measures are particularly valuable predictors of behaviors that are difficult to voluntarily control (e.g., nonverbal, as opposed to verbal, behavior in an interaction).6 There are a number of available implicit attitude measures.7 Much of the following will focus on just one: the computerized Implicit Association Test (IAT). The IAT is perhaps the most prevalent tool used in the study of implicit attitudes. It is a measure of the relative strength of associations between pairs of concepts, and, of particular interest, the association of positive versus negative with different races.8 In a computerized IAT task, individuals are given two concept categories (e.g., black and white) and two attribute categories (e.g., good and bad), with one concept category and one attribute category paired on each side of the computer screen (e.g., black/good). Over the course of the task the pairings change, such that for half of the time black/good-white/bad are paired, and for the other half white/good-black/bad are paired. People are shown exemplars from each of the categories (e.g., a picture of a black or white person; the word “terrible”), and they must attempt to quickly categorize the exemplars correctly, according to the specified concept/attribute pairing given. Implicit racial bias is evidenced to the extent that it is easier for individuals to categorize exemplars for one pairing (e.g., white/good-black/bad) than it is for the other (e.g., black/good-white/bad).

Whites’ Implicit Racial Attitudes

That implicit racial bias is an issue within the United States is undeniable. According to one estimate, approximately 70 percent of whites harbor an

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antiblack/pro-white bias.9 Moreover, one study found that white children as young as six years old demonstrated both implicit and explicit pro-white/antiblack bias. In the same study, the researcher showed that while white tenyear-olds’ self-reported bias dissipated in comparison with six-year-olds, their observed implicit bias did not.10 In fact, the measured implicit bias of ten-yearolds was similar to that of adults. These data are all the more disconcerting when one considers the ever-growing body of evidence documenting implicit race bias in adults. Studies employing the IAT have consistently found that whites hold an implicit preference for their racial in-group. Anthony Greenwald and his team of researchers conducted the first of these studies. They found that whites displayed an implicit preference for whites over blacks on the IAT task, manifested as faster responding to the white/pleasant-black/unpleasant pairings than to the black/pleasant-white/unpleasant pairings.11 Members of the same team of researchers created a Web site that allowed people to complete an IAT from their personal computers. In 2007, with a total of nearly 380,000 Web site participants (351,204 adults and 28,816 children) who completed at least one IAT remotely, the researchers published a report summarizing the data from the Web site. Overwhelmingly, white was associated with good and black with bad; light skin was associated with good and dark skin with bad; and white was associated with harmless objects and black with weapons.12 There have been a multitude of studies by these and other researchers that corroborate and expand upon these basic findings.13 Perhaps the most unsettling finding is that in one of these studies, even whites who explicitly self-reported egalitarian attitudes, and who knew that the IAT measured bias, found it difficult to control expressing their implicit bias.14 Though this finding is encouraging for implicit attitudes researchers—it suggests that the IAT cannot be faked—it is anything but for those concerned with race relations within the United States. As noted earlier, the IAT is one of the most utilized tools in implicit attitudes research: however, other methods of measuring implicit attitudes have yielded similar findings. In another task, researchers by the names of Samuel Gaertner and John McLaughlin subliminally primed people with the word “white” or “black,” and then immediately replaced the word with a string of letters that were sometimes actual words and sometimes nonsensical. The actual words were positive and negative words associated with stereotypes of either whites or blacks. As quickly as possible, individuals had to identify whether the strings of letters were, in fact, words. Among the results of the study, the researchers found that participants were faster at recognizing positive stereotype words (e.g., “smart”) if they were primed with the word “white” instead of “black.”15 This finding is often interpreted to mean that for some, whites were associated with positivity—that is, that some individuals were demonstrating bias on this task. It is quite possible that the research just described simply suggests that


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the participants had knowledge about white stereotypes, rather than that they were biased, per se. That is, participants in the study may have been quicker to respond to positive stereotypes about whites because they were familiar with the white stereotype. Thus, “white” was more easily associated with “smart,” though the participants may not have necessarily endorsed this stereotype. Even still, this work has important implications given evidence that under the right set of circumstances, mere knowledge of a stereotype can have substantial consequences for blacks, though not exclusively, particularly. Patricia Devine’s research, for example, revealed that subliminal priming with words stereotypically associated with blacks lead individuals to interpret ambiguous behavior as more aggressive.16 One might imagine that this could pose an issue if say, a playful tap is interpreted as a shove while at school, or if a tackle is mistaken for an aggressive act on the football field. Moreover, studies employing different implicit attitudes tasks have demonstrated that for whites, a link between blacks and negativity (not just negative stereotypes) exists, though this link is likely due to known negative stereotypes, at least in part.17

Blacks’ Implicit Racial Attitudes

The pro-white/antiblack implicit bias is not unique to whites. In fact, research suggests that some African Americans demonstrate the same bias—amounting to racial in-group devaluation of blacks, racial out-group preference for whites, or both. By one account, indications that blacks’ and whites’ attitudes differ toward their respective racial in-groups are evident as early as age thirteen. Andrew Scott Baron and his colleagues found that at this age, blacks did not show the in-group preference that is the hallmark of whites as young as six years of age.18 Indeed, it is estimated that between 50 and 65 percent of blacks show a significant preference for whites over blacks.19 It should be noted, however, that the findings for such a bias among blacks are less consistent than are those for whites. That is, an implicit antiblack bias among blacks has been found in some studies, but not others. The potential explanations for this lack of consistency are many: the magnitude of the bias might be smaller, the manifestation could be more nuanced, and/or some groups of blacks may be more likely than others to show antiblack bias.20 In any case, a number of rather cogent and rigorous studies have evidenced such a bias among blacks, suggesting that even if bias among blacks is in some way tempered, it still exists—and at alarming levels. Like research on racial implicit bias among whites, research on racial bias among nonwhite groups has centered on determining the extent of the effect and the conditions under which it is likely to occur. In one of the research articles based on the data from the IAT Web site described earlier, responses from white and black participants who completed both a race attitudes IAT and an explicit measure of race attitudes, between October 1998 and April 2000, were analyzed. Some of the results were unsurprising: both blacks and whites self-

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reported pro-in-group attitudes on the explicit measure. On the implicit measure, however, both blacks and whites showed a preference for whites; thus, only whites maintained a pro-in-group race attitude. There are other notable findings in this study.21 First, the black implicit pro-white “score” was smaller in magnitude than that of whites’ pro-white score, but nevertheless represented a real and quantifiable preference for whites over blacks. Second, blacks actually showed a greater explicit preference for their in-group than did whites. This same pattern of results—wherein whites show a greater implicit in-group preference and blacks show a greater explicit in-group preference—is also reported in at least one laboratory study.22 The question of why blacks might hold implicit negative in-group attitudes has been pondered for decades. Gordon Allport—widely renowned as one of the most influential personality psychologists, and indeed, Anthony Greenwald’s former advisor—noted a half century ago that black Americans have so long been exposed to stereotypes “that they may half believe the accusations.”23 Dr. Leslie Ashburn-Nardo and her colleagues echoed this sentiment recently when they suggested that, because of the prevalence of positive societal images associated with whites and negative societal images associated with blacks, some uniformity across whites’ and blacks’ implicit associations about race should be expected.24 While there is little available data that tests these conjectures directly, some work does suggest that blacks know negative in-group stereotypes and are influenced by them.25 Robert W. Livingston suggests that blacks’ attitudes are shaped not by mere awareness of stereotypes, but rather by a belief that others have formed a negative opinion about African Americans, perhaps based on these stereotypes. Dr. Livingston examined variability in blacks’ attitudes on two implicit measures of bias toward blacks and whites. Blacks in two different samples reported high levels of explicit pro-black in-group bias, but significantly less evidence of pro-black implicit bias was obtained, regardless of which implicit measure was employed. Importantly, Dr. Livingston discovered that this latter finding was due largely to only one subset of blacks. Namely, blacks who had limited contact with whites were more likely to believe that others (i.e., whites) undervalued their group and were prejudiced toward it. In turn, this group of blacks was more prone to favor the out-group (whites) over the in-group (blacks).26 These explanations for blacks’ attitudes are provocative, but seem incomplete. Presumably, whites, too, are aware of both negative stereotypes and negative opinions about their race in-group. Yet, this awareness has not translated into antiwhite in-group devaluation, nor out-group pro-black preference. It may be, as Ashburn-Nardo suggests, that the sheer imbalance in the prevalence of positive white stereotypes and negative black stereotypes, creates a situation in which both blacks’ and whites’ attitudes toward blacks are


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disproportionately influenced by negativity. This idea might best be considered in the context of the social order in the United States. System justification theory offers a potential explanation for the existence, propagation, and institutionalization of antiblack attitudes among blacks. John Jost and Mahzarin Banaji define system justification as the “psychological process by which existing social arrangements are legitimized, even at the expense of personal and group interest.”27 In other words, people, whether they are members of low– or high–status groups, attempt to justify the social hierarchy observed within their society. As a result, both low– and high–status group members should endorse negative stereotypes regarding the low–status group. Moreover, members of both groups might exhibit a preference for the high– status group relative to the low–status group, with those at extreme ends (either high or low) exhibiting the strongest preference. The researchers argued that evidence for these biases is especially likely to emerge with measures that tap into implicit associations.28 Recent findings support this argument. In one study, the implicit race attitudes of four minority groups were measured: Jews, Asians, overweight people, and people low in socioeconomic status. Based on system justification theory, it was predicted that minorities would show increasing evidence of in-group devaluation as a function of their relative status; the lower the rung occupied in American society, the more minorities would implicitly prefer the dominant group over the lower status minority. The results from the study supported these central tenets of the theory. On the implicit measure, the highest status groups (Jews and Asians) showed evidence of a positive in-group bias, while the lowest status groups (overweight and poor people) showed ingroup devaluation and a positive out-group bias. Own-group devaluation as a function of relative status was not, however, evidenced on explicit measures. In fact, self–report measures produced results that were counter to the in-group devaluation hypothesis.29

Methodology and Results The implicit racial attitudes of BGLO members have, until now, remained unexamined. To explore whether the implicit and explicit intergroup attitudes of BGLO members differ from those of other blacks, we collected data using an Internet survey. Participants were recruited via an e-mail sent to a number of BGLO mailing list servers and BGLO members on Facebook, which included a link to the study. African American members of the “Divine Nine” BGLOs completed the survey. Of the 201 participants, 67 percent were female and 33 percent were male; they ranged in age from nineteen to seventy-two. Every Divine Nine BGLO was represented: 23.5 percent were members of Alpha

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Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., 22 percent were members of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., 17 percent were members of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc., 12 percent were members of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Inc., 9 percent were members of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., 6 percent were members of Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc., 5.5 percent were members of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., 3 percent were members of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity, Inc., and 2 percent were members of Iota Phi Theta Fraternity, Inc. Participants who were not born in the United States were excluded from analyses. Participants completed measures of both implicit and explicit racial attitudes. The participants first completed an IAT30 and then reported their results on the online survey form. They then responded to two explicit measures of race attitudes: the Feelings Thermometer31 and the Modern Racism Scale.32 The Feelings Thermometer assessed participants’ explicit affective evaluations of blacks and whites on a 100-point scale (i.e., “On a scale of 1–100, please rate the extent to which you generally feel warm toward [blacks, whites]”). The Modern Racism Scale included seven items about subtle forms of racism that may exist in America. Participants rated their endorsement of each item on a 5-point Likert scale, ranging from Strongly Agree to Strongly Disagree. The results were largely in line with research on blacks’ intergroup attitudes. Nearly 23 percent of the BGLO members reported an implicit preference for whites over blacks. While the size of the effect was less than what typically has been found for blacks, it should not be taken lightly. The effect is significantly different from zero both statistically and conceptually. Moreover, 40 percent of college-aged BGLO member and nonmember students (aged nineteen to twenty-two) demonstrated this preference. In contrast, no participant expressed a preference for whites over blacks on the Feelings Thermometer that measured explicit racial attitudes. In fact, there was a 20-point difference between groups, on average, such that African American BGLO member participants favored blacks over whites. Likewise, no participant expressed an overall negative attitude toward blacks on the Modern Racism Scale, also an explicit measure of racial attitudes.

Discussion While differences exist among the organizations, BGLOs have long strived to achieve three basic goals: personal excellence, kinship, and racial uplift. In spirit, stereotyping blacks, holding a negative attitude toward blacks, and/or maintaining a preference for whites over blacks would seem rather obviously at odds with those goals. Less obvious might be how influential these implicit attitudes are and to what extent. As it turns out, there is instructive research on the impact of stereotypes and implicit race attitudes in situations relevant to BGLOs.


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In terms of personal excellence, in general, early evidence suggests that a positive in-group attitude could buffer the mal-effects of prejudice.33 Specifically, in terms of academic achievement, there is strong evidence to suggest that knowledge of a stereotype—without a congruent explicit attitude—is enough to impact academic performance. Indeed, an effect termed “stereotype threat”—a group’s fear that they will perform poorly and thus reinforce a negative stereotype of their group—appears to rely merely on knowledge of that negative stereotype. In the studies reported in the seminal work in this area of research, one group of African Americans was reminded of their racial identity, while another group of African Americans was not reminded.34 All participants then took a difficult test that included questions taken from Graduate Record Examination study guides. The researchers found that the group that was reminded of their racial identity performed worse on the questions task relative to those who were not reminded. Much work has found that this performance deficit occurs because a negative stereotype about blacks’ intellectual performance is activated when African Americans are reminded of their race. Activating these stereotypes causes anxiety, which disrupts African Americans’ performance on the test.35 As noted earlier, researchers found that in order for this phenomenon to occur, blacks need not explicitly endorse the relevant negative stereotype.36 The research regarding the impact of implicit attitudes on kinship and racial uplift is informative, if limited. To date, there are only a few studies that measure the impact of blacks’ implicit attitudes on behaviors relevant to one’s commitment to kinship and racial uplift. One study, done by Leslie AshburnNardo employed the IAT and several explicit measures. Ashburn-Nardo found that, among blacks, IAT scores and work partner preferences were significantly and positively related.37 That is, increasing implicit in-group preference scores corresponded to increasing in-group partner preference, such that those with negative implicit attitudes were less likely to choose a black versus a white partner. This relationship between implicit attitudes and partner choice held, even when explicit attitudes toward partners were taken into account. It should be noted that this study was placed in an academic context, and participants were motivated to choose the partner with whom they thought they would perform best. In a rather clever set of experiments, Joshua Correll created a video game that placed photographs of a white or black individual holding either a gun or some other object (e.g., wallet, soda can, cell phone) in diverse photographic backgrounds.38 Participants in the experiments were instructed to decide as quickly as possible whether to shoot the target. The results were overwhelmingly in support of a negative black implicit bias, or as the researchers termed it, a “shooter bias.” White and black participants were both more likely to mistake a black target as armed (false alarms) when the target was in fact unarmed, and to mistake a white target as unarmed when the target in fact was armed

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(misses). Moreover, the magnitude of the shooter bias was equal for blacks and whites. At face value, these results add fuel to recent alleged police aggression toward blacks. Indeed, in recent cases both black and white officers have mistaken an unarmed black person for one carrying a weapon.39 More generally, however, these results offer evidence that there are real, behavioral consequences of implicitly associating blacks with danger, or violence. The findings from this study may reflect implicit attitudes, or alternatively, simple familiarity with a black stereotype. In either case, taken in concert with the work described here by, for example, Patricia Devine and Ashburn-Nardo and their colleagues, there are implications for BGLO members’ behavior. Namely, blacks who know and/or endorse negative in-group stereotypes may be less inclined to carry out various racial uplift components of the organizations. Furthermore, they may be less committed to fostering and maintaining substantive relationships with other black BGLO members. The bottom line is that it is unlikely that the upholding of BGLOs’ organizational principles hinges solely on implicit attitudes. Nonetheless, the qualitative manner in which organizational goals are met, as well as the very self-esteem and well-being of BGLO members, are undoubtedly and inextricably tied to implicit attitudes.

Conclusion Black Greek-letter organizations are unique institutions. Though they have been rightly compared to honor societies, secret societies, and civic organizations, BGLOs are more than the sum of these groups’ identities. Their principles of personal excellence, brotherhood/sisterhood, and racial uplift are influential in the black community—and, it is argued here, impacted by members’ implicit racial attitudes. Any group of blacks that is predicated upon robust racial identity, but contains a significant amount of its membership harboring antiblack sentiments, is hamstringed in its efforts. Though it goes beyond the scope of this study, such a group, if it wishes to remain viable and relevant, should engage in some degree of targeted de-biasing of its members. Individuals need not be fettered by their implicit biases. Individuals may reduce their implicit biases when they are (1) aware of those biases; (2) motivated to change their responses because of personal values, contrition, compunction, or self-insight;40 and (3) possessed of cognitive resources needed to develop and practice correction.41 Moreover, individuals who are more internally motivated (i.e., by a personal desire) to reduce their levels of race bias show less implicit prejudice, whereas those who are more externally motivated (i.e., by a desire to appear as unbiased to others) display more implicit prejudice.42 In light of this and other work, BGLOs might consider ways in which they could counter the


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implicit antiblack biases among some of their members. Given that the membership intake process is the juncture at which BGLOs have the greatest influence over the selection and training of members, it is during this period that de-biasing activities might be most effective. For example, one de-biasing tactic is to actively engage in counterstereotypic mental imagery about race. Doing so could produce substantially weaker implicit stereotypes vis-à-vis those who engage in neutral, stereotypic, or no mental imagery.43 Negative representations of blacks heighten implicit antiblack attitudes.44 Therefore, providing just the opposite, such as during a mini-course on black history, may militate against implicit antiblack biases. In order to de-bias implicit attitudes, however, more clever, indirect methods might be used. For example, the stereotype threat literature shows that increasing performance expectancies (of the individual and the group) has been a successful technique for reducing the effects of stereotype threat on performance.45 BGLOs should consider assigning academic deans to groups in order to keep track of prospective members’ academic performance and intervene where needed. Notes Epigraph. Holy Bible, Proverbs 23:7. 1. Shaun R. Harper, Lauretta F. Byars, and Thomas B. Jelke, “How Black Greek-Letter Organization Membership Affects College Adjustment and Undergraduate Outcomes,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005), 393–416. 2. Cleopatra Howard Caldwell, Laura P. Kohn-Wood, Karen H. Schmeelk-Cone, Tabbye M. Chavous, and Marc A. Zimmerman, “Racial Discrimination and Racial Identity as Risk or Protective Factors for Violent Behaviors in African American Young Adults,” American Journal of Community Psychology 33 (2004): 91–105; Linda D. Halgunseth, Jean M. Ispa, Annamaria Csizmadia, and Kathy R. Thornburg, “Relations Among Maternal Racial Identity, Maternal Parenting Behavior, and Child Outcomes in Low-Income, Urban, Black Families,” Journal of Black Psychology 31 (2005): 418–40; Charlton D. Mcllwain, “Racial Identity, Ideology, and the Youth Vote: Observations from the 2004 Presidential Campaign,” American Behavioral Scientist 50 (2007): 1231– 38; Duane E. Thomas, Tiffany G. Townsend, and Faye Z. Belgrave, “The Influence of Cultural and Racial Identification on the Psychosocial Adjustment of Inner-city African American Children in School,” American Journal of Community Psychology 23 (2003): 217–28. 3. Anthony G. Greenwald and Mahzarin R. Banaji, “Implicit Social Cognition: Attitudes, Self-Esteem, and Stereotypes,” Psychological Review 102 (1995): 4–27; Brian A. Nosek, Anthony G. Greenwald, and Mahzarin R. Banaji, “The Implicit Association Test at Age 7: A Methodological and Conceptual Review,” in Social Psychology and the Unconscious: The Automaticity of Higher Mental Processes, ed. John A. Bargh (London: Psychology Press, 2007), 266.

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4. Greenwald and Banaji, “Implicit Social Cognition,” 4; Nosek et al., “The Implicit Association Test at Age 7”; John F. Dovidio and Russell H. Fazio, “New Technologies for the Direct and Indirect Assessment of Attitudes,” in Questions about Questions: Inquiries into the Cognitive Bases of Surveys, ed. Judith M. Tanur (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1994), 306. 5. James H. Neely, “Semantic Priming and Retrieval from Lexical Memory: Roles of Inhibitionless Spreading Activation and Limited-Capacity Attention,” Journal of Experimental Psychology: General 106 (1977): 226–54; Russell H. Fazio, David M. Sanbonmatsu, Martha C. Powell, and Frank R. Kardes, “On the Automatic Activation of Attitudes,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 50 (1986): 229–38; Bernd Wittenbrink et al., “Evaluative versus Conceptual Judgments in Automatic Stereotyping and Prejudice,” Experimental Social Psychology 37 (2001): 244–52. 6. Alan J. Lambert, Keith B. Payne, Suzanne Ramsey, and Lara M. Shaffer, “On the Predictive Validity of Implicit Attitude Measures: The Moderating Effect of Perceived Group Variability,” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 41 (2005): 114–28; Michael A. Olson and Russell H. Fazio, “Discordant Evaluations of Blacks Affect Nonverbal Behavior,” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 33 (2007): 1214–24. 7. Neely, “Semantic Priming,” 226–54; Russell H. Fazio et al., “Automatic Activation of Attitudes,” 229–38; Bernd Wittenbrink, Charles M. Judd, and Bernadette Park, “Evaluative versus Conceptual Judgments,” 244–52. 8. Kristin A. Lane, Mahzarin R. Banaji, Brian A. Nosek, and Anthony G. Greenwald, “Understanding and Using the Implicit Association Test: IV: What We Know So Far About the Method,” in Implicit Measures of Attitudes, ed. Bernd Wittenbrink and Norbert Schwarz (New York: Guilford Press, 2007), 62. 9. Brian A. Nosek, Frederick L. Smyth, Jeffrey J. Hansen, Thierry Devos, Nicole M. Linder, Kate A. Ranganath, Colin Tucker Smith, Kristina R. Olson, Dolly Chugh, Anthony G. Greenwald, and Mahzarin R. Banaji, “Pervasiveness and Correlates of Implicit Attitudes and Stereotypes,” European Review of Social Psychology 18 (2007): 36–88. 10. Andrew Scott Baron and Mahzarin R. Banaji, “The Development of Implicit Attitudes: Evidence of Race Evaluations from Age 6 and 10 and Adulthood,” Psychological Science 17 (2006): 53–58. 11. Anthony G. Greenwald, Debbie E. McGhee, and Jordan L. K. Schwartz, “Measuring Individual Differences in Implicit Cognition: The Implicit Association Test,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 74 (1998): 1464–80. 12. Lane et al., “Understanding and Using the Implicit Association Test,” 62. 13. Baron and Banaji, “The Development of Implicit Attitudes,” 55–56; Greenwald et al., “Measuring Individual Differences,” 1474; Lane et al., “Understanding and Using the Implicit Association Test,” 62. 14. D. Y. Kim and Anthony G. Greenwald, “Voluntary Controllability of Implicit Cognition: Can Implicit Attitudes Be Faked?” Paper presented at the annual meeting for the Midwestern Psychological Association (May 1998) (cited in Nilanjana Dasgupta, Debbie E. McGhee, Anthony G. Greenwald, and Mahzarin R. Banaji, “Automatic Preference for White Americans: Eliminating the Familiarity Explanation,” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 36 (2000): 316–28. 15. Samuel L. Gaertner and John P. McLaughlin, “Racial Stereotypes: Associations and Ascriptions of Positive and Negative Characteristics,” Social Psychology Quarterly 46 (1983): 23–30.


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16. Patricia G. Devine, “Stereotypes and Prejudice: Their Automatic and Controlled Components,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 56 (1989): 5–18. 17. Russell H. Fazio, Joni R. Jackson, Bridget C. Dunton, and Carol J. Williams, “Variability in Automatic Activation as an Unobstrusive Measure of Attitudes: A Bona Fide Pipeline?” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 69 (1995): 1013–27; B. Keith Payne, Clara Michelle Cheng, Olesya Govorun, and Brandon D. Stewart, “An Inkblot for Attitudes: Affect Misattribution as Implicit Measurement,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 89 (2005): 277–93. 18. Andrew Scott Baron, Anna Shusterman, A. Bordeaux, and Mahzarin R. Banaji, “Implicit Race Attitudes of African American and Hispanic Children.” Poster presented at the Annual Meeting of the Society for Personality and Social Psychology (January 2004) (cited in Baron and Banaji, “The Development of Implicit Attitudes,” 57). 19. John J. Jost, Mahzarin R. Banaji, and Brian A. Nosek, “A Decade of System Justification Theory: Accumulated Evidence of Conscious and Unconscious Bolstering of the Status Quo,” Political Psychology 25 (2004): 881–919 (citing C. Vincent Spicer and Margo J. Monteith, “Implicit Outgroup Favoritism Among Blacks and Vulnerability to Stereotype Threat” (unpublished manuscript, 2001, on file with author); Leslie AsburnNardo, Megan L. Knowles, and Margo J. Monteith, “Black American’s Implicit Racial Associations and Their Implications for Intergroup Judgment,” Social Cognition 21 (2003): 61–87. 20. C. Vincent Spicer, “Effects of Self–Stereotyping and Stereotype Threat on African Americans’ Intellectual Performance” (unpublished Ph.D. diss., University of Kentucky, 1999, on file with William T. Young Library, University of Kentucky); Jost et al., “A Decade of System Justification Theory,” 902; Brian Nosek, “The Politics of Intergroup Attitudes: Implicit Cognition and Political Orientation,” presentation at Duke University’s The Psychology of Voting and Election Campaigns (October 20–21, 2006). 21. Brian A. Nosek, Mahzarin R. Banaji, and Anthony G. Greenwald, “Harvesting Implicit Group Attitudes and Beliefs from a Demonstration Website,” Group Dynamics 6 (2002): 101–15. 22. Mahzarin R. Banaji, Anthony G. Greenwald, and Marshall Rosier, “Implicit Esteem: When Collectives Shape Individuals,” paper presented at the Preconference on Self (1997) (cited in Anthony G. Greenwald, Mahzarin R. Banaji, Laurie A. Rudman, Shelly D. Farnham, Brian A. Nosek, and Deborah S. Mellott, “A Unified Theory of Implicit Attitudes, Stereotypes, Self-Esteem, and Self-Concept,” Psychological Review 109 [2002]: 3–25). 23. Gordon W. Allport, The Nature of Prejudice (Indianapolis, Ind.: Addison–Wesley, 1954), 152. 24. Ashburn-Nardo et al., “Black American’s Implicit Racial Associations,” 61–87. 25. Claude M. Steele and Joshua Aronson, “Stereotype Threat and the Intellectual Test Performance of African Americans,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 69 (1995): 797–811. 26. R. W. Livingston, “The Role of Perceived Negativity in the Moderation of African Americans’ Implicit and Explicit Racial Attitudes,” Journal of Experimental and Social Psychology 38 (2002): 405–13. 27. John T. Jost and Mahzarin R. Banaji, “The Role of Stereotyping in System– Justification and the Production of False Consciousness,” British Journal of Social Psychology 33 (1994): 1–27. 28. Ibid.

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29. Laurie A. Rudman, Joshua Feinberg, and Kimberly Fairchild, “Minority Members’ Implicit Attitudes: Automatic Ingroup Bias as a Function of Group Status,” Social Cognition 20 (2002): 294–320. 30. Https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/. 31. Charles M. Judd, Bernadette Park, Carey S. Ryan, Markus Brauer, and Susan Kraus, “Stereotypes and Ethnocentrism: Diverging Interethnic Perceptions of African American and White American Youth,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 69 (1995): 460–81. 32. John B. McConahay, “Modern Racism, Ambivalence, and the Modern Racism Scale,” in Prejudice, Discrimination, and Racism, ed. Samuel L. Gaertner and John F. Dovidio (New York: Academic Press, 1986). 33. Leslie Ashburn-Nardo, Margo J. Monteith, Sreven Arthur, and Amber Bain, “Race and the Psychological Health of African Americans,” Group Processes & Intergroup Relations 10 (2007): 471–91. 34. Steele and Aronson, “Stereotype Threat,” 797–811. 35. Ibid. 36. Ibid.; Claytie Davis III, Joshua Aronson, and Moises Salinas, “Shades of Threat: Racial Identity as a Moderator of Stereotype Threat,” Journal of Black Psychology 32 (2006): 399–417. 37. Asburn-Nardo et al., “Black American’s Implicit Racial Associations,” 75. 38. Joshua Correll, Bernadette Park, Charles M. Judd, and Bernd Wittenbrink, “The Police Officer’s Dilemma: Using Ethnicity to Disambiguate Potentially Threatening Individuals,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 83 (2002): 1314–29. 39. Shaila Dewan and Brenda Goodman, “Atlanta Officers Suspended in Inquiry on Killing Raid,” New York Times, November 28, 2006, U.S. section, Online edition; http:// www.amadoudiallofoundation.org/lifehistory.html; Brian Jenkins, “Three White Police Officers Charged in Death of Black Man,” CNN, November 27, 1995, U.S. News section, Online edition; Cara Buckley and William K. Rashbaum, “A Day After a Fatal Shooting, Questions, Mourning and Protest,” New York Times, November 27, 2006, U.S. section, Online edition. 40. Nilanjana Dasgupta, “Implicit Ingroup Favoritism, Outgroup Favoritism, and Their Behavioral Manifestations,” Social Justice Research 17 (2004): 143–69; Nilanjana Dasgupta and Anthony G. Greenwald, “On the Malleability of Automatic Attitudes: Combating Automatic Prejudice With Images of Admired and Disliked Individuals,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 81 (2001): 800 (citing Gordon W. Allport, The Nature of Prejudice (New York: Addison-Wesley 1954); Patricia G. Devine, Margo J. Monteith, Julia R. Zuwerink, and Andrew J. Elliot, “Prejudice With and Without Compunction,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 60 (1991): 817–30; Gunnar Myrdal, An American Dilemma: The Negro Problem and Modern Democracy (New York: Harper, 1944). 41. Dasgupta and Greenwald, “On the Malleability of Automatic Attitudes,” 800; Irene V. Blair and Mahzarin R. Banaji, “Automatic and Controlled Processes in Stereotype Priming,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 70 (1996): 1142–63; Susan T. Fiske and Steven L. Neuberg, “Motivational Influences on Impression Formation: Outcome Dependency, Accuracy-Driven Attention, Intention, and Individuating Processes,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 53 (1987): 431–44; Kerry Kawakami, John F. Dovidio, Jasper Moll, Sander Hermsen, and Abby Russin, “Just Say No (to Stereotyping):


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Effect of Training in the Negation of Stereotypic Associations on Stereotype Activation,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 78 (2000): 871–88. 42. Leslie R. M. Hausmann and Carey S. Ryan, “Effects of External and Internal Motivation to Control Prejudice on Implicit Prejudice: The Mediating Role of Efforts to Control Prejudiced Responses,” Basic and Applied Social Psychology 26 (2004): 215–25. 43. Irene V. Blair, Jennifer E. Ma, and Alison P. Lenton, “Imagining Stereotypes Away: The Moderation of Implicit Stereotypes Through Mental Imagery,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology (2001): 828–41. 44. Laurie A. Rudman and Matthew R. Lee, “Implicit and Explicit Consequences of Exposure to Violent and Misogynist Rap Music,” Group Processes & Intergroup Relations 5 (2002): 133–50. 45. Rusty B. McIntyre, René M. Paulson, and Charles G. Lord, “Alleviating Women’s Mathematics Stereotype Threat Through Salience of Group Achievements,” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 39 (2003): 83–90.

Chapter Eight Commentary Kira Hudson Banks

The discussion of implicit attitudes is important in this age of race relations where individuals often claim to be color-blind. The recent election brought us a president who is multiracial and identifies as African American. We are beyond race, right? Many people would say “yes” and claim we live in a postracial society. Since the level of overt racism has decreased, those who choose not to see it claim it has disappeared. However, covert, less obvious, and subtler acts of racism remain. In fact, research suggests that these everyday hassles can be more detrimental to mental and physical health compared to blatant forms of discrimination. This chapter highlights ways in which racial attitudes might affect a specific population of African Americans. Individuals involved in black Greek-letter organizations have presumably joined a group to aid in the uplift of African Americans. However, this study questions how effective these groups can be in that quest if the members show a preference for whites over blacks on implicit attitude measures. The results suggest that these members of BGLOs are not immune to the dynamics of our society. Furthermore when examining the stereotype threat literature it could be that this group is at increased risk for experiencing this phenomenon due to their strong explicit affiliation with their racial group. In many ways we should not be surprised—albeit we might very well be disappointed—that this bias exists for African Americans. Even for those who have chosen to identify with a BGLO, it seems that the scripts of racism are influential. Racism is like pervasive smog that we all breathe. We cannot escape its effects. We must be cautious, however, not to assume that these implicit attitudes, which seem problematic, correlate with internal or behavioral variables. We can recall the multiple explanations given for the findings of the famous Clark doll studies. The children’s choice of the white doll was less about selfdeprecation, as was often hypothesized, but rather it was indicative of being an astute observer of the racial stratification in society. Perhaps we will find in 176

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future literature which personality and environmental factors buffer and exacerbate the bias found on implicit measures and how these variables relate to behavioral outcomes. Today, limited research exists, and studies like the one to follow help to inform the literature and encourage us to critically examine our biases.


Part V

Representin’ Images of BGLOs in Popular Culture


9. Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., as Filmmaker The Making and Demise of Countdown at Kusini Robin Means Coleman

About all this film directed by Ossie Davis has going for it is progressive politics. [. . .] Clearly one of the problems with the film is inadequate financing. [. . .] Go see it if you have a chance, but do so with no illusions. —D. G.

Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., was founded in January 1913 at Howard University as an organization for college-educated women. Delta’s founders established, as part of its charter, a service agenda with the goal of assisting blacks of the diaspora in achieving their political, social, and economic objectives. Today, Delta has approximately 200,000 members, making it the largest black sorority in the world. Delta’s history of public service, including, support for the Anti-Lynching Bill of 1922, bookmobiles, scholarship funds, and voter registration, took a different turn under Lillian Pierce Benbow, its fifteenth national president. Benbow believed that media images of blackness—particularly those found in blaxploitation films—were largely negative and that the organization could effect positive change by addressing stereotypical imagery in its social action goals. Benbow elaborated on the sorority’s position in a 1975 interview: “[W] e saw that with movies, and any of the media, you have the usual stereotype presentation of Black women [. . .] either she’s got a handkerchief on her head, humming her song, ‘Jesus, I’ll be home by and by,’ or she’s somebody’s prostitute or in some other way dehumanized.”1 Wrote Holly, “The [depiction] problem will begin to be solved when blacks gain control over the making of their own films.”2 The sorority also had the ideological support of other black 181

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organizations. For example, the president of the Hollywood chapter of the NAACP stated in 1972: now that the movie industry has discovered the black market, we have the obligation to insist that the door be opened all the way. We must work in the creative and production part of the industry, as well as participate in the distribution of films. Our contribution must be more than consumption at the box offices to see a few black actors. Our rewards in return should be strong images of a proud people and increased purchasing power from our investments, our creative energies, and our employment.3 Delta would attempt its most ambitious public service project with the production of the full-length, Hollywood-style feature, Countdown at Kusini. Starring Ossie Davis, Ruby Dee, and Greg Morris, the film was to have “[the] political import to counter the influence of the ‘blaxploitation’ movies that offered little but stereotypical images of Blacks.”4 The film possessed both a novel plot and a creative approach to securing financial backing. Countdown at Kusini was a pan-African melodrama that centered on a rebellion against a corrupt colonialist government in the fictional African nation of Fahari. To finance the film, 85,000 members of the sorority contributed approximately $100 each to the endeavor, for a total contribution of $800,000. Benbow boasted: our film marks a first-time effort in the history of this country that a Black women’s organization has said, “not only are we concerned with the negative images of black people on film, but we are willing to put whatever resources we have on the line to do something about it.” This film represents women around the country committing themselves, not in terms of pledges but in terms of hard dollars!5 It was believed that the film could also solve a number of other image problems. Ideally, the film would not only work to repair the media’s treatment of blacks and, by extension, repair their social image, but it would also improve the public profile of black sororities and fraternities that seemed to only generate press attention during hazing scandals. With the unique arts and media expertise of some of the sorority members—Leontyne Price (singer), Lena Horne (entertainer), Ruby Dee (actress), Nikki Giovanni (writer), Roberta Flack (singer), Ethel Payne (journalist), and Charlayne Hunter Gault (journalist)—it was also presumed that the organization was well positioned to “expose the [media] ‘system’ that was designed to denigrate [blackness].”6


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The Making and Demise of Countdown at Kusini Delta made the most of its relationship with those in the media and entertainment industries by asking them to look for viable scripts. Two notables approached by the sorority were actors Dee, a Delta, and Davis, her husband. Regarding the selection of the film, Davis stated, “they came to us [. . .] I happened to have a son-in-law [Ladi Ladebo, a Nigerian] at that time who was interested in filmmaking and he had rights to a story called Countdown at Kusini” (Berry and Berry 2001, 165). Davis appeared to be uniquely positioned to deliver the imagistic and profit rewards the sorority desired. Davis’s direction credits included the famed Cotton Comes to Harlem in 1970 and the praised Black Girl in 1972. Ultimately, Davis would cowrite the Countdown at Kusini screenplay (with actor Al Freeman Jr. and Ladebo), as well as direct and star in the film that would be shot in Lagos, Nigeria. For Davis, the commitment to a pan-African effort had long been on his personal agenda. In 1935, when he was an eighteen-year-old student at Howard University, he had imagined himself fighting alongside the Ethiopians against Mussolini. In 1942, Davis was stationed in Liberia as a soldier in the U.S. Army.7 In 1970, Davis had assisted in the direction of Kongi’s Harvest, the first Nigerian feature film, which starred Wole Soyinka. At first, Davis believed that he had the resources that would make Countdown at Kusini a success, Not only did my son-in-law, the company manager [of the Davis family corporation Rolling Ventures], promise us the benefit of his kinship and connections in Nigeria, but also I was chairman of the American Delegation to the Black and African Festival of Arts and Culture, known as FESTAC, soon to be held in Nigeria, which gave me access to power in high places. Surely things would go well. The hell they did!8 By late 1974, filming in Nigeria proved to be a significant, costly obstacle. Davis recounts, “When the crew arrived in Nigeria and saw the working conditions, they insisted on more pay. [. . .] On another occasion, we were to film a scene in a village some distance from Lagos. We set up for the shot; then we were told we had to wait for the arrival of the chief, which took half a day. When the chief came, he refused to give his permission until he had been paid.”9 Costs began to mount, and Nigerian backers failed to provide their promised financial support. Davis soon realized his $800,000 estimate for the film—the sum raised by the sorority—would not be nearly enough, and tried to make up the shortfall with his own money. Countdown at Kusini, he said, “was a labor of love, but love ain’t the right way to make a motion picture.”10 Even greater difficulties regarding the film were ahead.

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As investors in a film, the membership demanded regular updates regarding its progress. When the reports indicated delays or rising costs, Delta’s leaders were bombarded with suggestions from members on how best to proceed or calls to withdraw from the project. Benbow detailed her challenges: Since financing a film is so different from our past activities, we had to impress upon the psyche of the membership a different kind of capability. [. . .] The members say, “we’ve always been service oriented. We’ve always given [book] baskets, so why are we now in the movies?”11 In addition, Benbow’s term as president of Delta would end in 1975, a year before the film’s scheduled premiere. Thus, Benbow needed to be sure the film project would continue to move ahead under new leadership. A year before the film’s completion, Jeanne Noble, Benbow’s predecessor, revealed her fears: if Countdown does make money, even by being a “sleeper,” then we’re in business. [. . .] If it doesn’t, there’d be no question about the fact that it would all be over. We have the new administration coming in this August, but I wouldn’t even wait until then to resign. I feel that when I said, “Let’s go,” along with it went our credibility as leaders of the sorority, win, lose, or draw.12 In 1974, Davis was still optimistic about the film’s potential, stating, “for the first time, a black film has black funding, producers, directors, writers, and technical people working together,” with nonblack participation occurring mainly through postproduction jobs.13 He also hoped to obtain a black distributor for the film, understanding that the right distributor was crucial to a film’s success. Davis’s earlier film, Kongi’s Harvest, encountered distribution problems because, he argued, black films without sex and violence do not get advertising, promotion, and distribution from the white-controlled media industry.14 Nevertheless, as much as the sorority and Davis wanted the film to be, from beginning to end, an all-black production, there were the realities of 1970s filmmaking—nonblacks controlled much of the business end of the media industry, particularly the arenas of distribution and exhibition. Davis and the sorority eventually conceded that the distribution of the film had to come from a major film studio. Eventually, David Begelman, thenpresident of Columbia Pictures, agreed to distribute Countdown at Kusini. Nevertheless, it was apparent to Davis as well as others on the production team that such an agreement was a catch-22. The film, without the backing of a major film distributor, would be a guaranteed failure. However, evidence showed that film companies lacked a commitment to fully distribute black films. Ladebo, armed with a business/marketing degree from New York University and experience in marketing, lobbied for a target marketing plan for Countdown


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at Kusini’s distribution. In a 2006 interview, Ladebo explained his marketing strategy for Countdown at Kusini: “To start, you zero in on the top fifty markets in Black neighborhoods. Then you lease the movie houses, because there weren’t many multiplexes and theaters in malls in those communities at that time. [. . .] Put the movie in there; book it for a good run; you raise your money.”15 Instead, the sorority pursued a more novel marketing approach, which, as Ladebo recalls, was a strategy that the film industry was not prepared to support: “the film was not taken seriously by theater owners. They did not believe Whites would be interested in Kusini, and they weren’t going to tie up a screen on a Saturday and lose profits. So they put it on once, on one screen, on a Wednesday.” Likewise, Davis speculated that Columbia Pictures had to package Countdown at Kusini with bigger films to entice theaters to screen it: “[. . .] in order for you to get this film, you have to also take these dogs here.”16 Davis maintains, “it could have made money for the Deltas [. . .] . But the exhibitor? What do they care about the Deltas trying to build up a Black audience?”17 Expectations were high for the film’s March 30, 1976, celebrity gala screening in Washington, D.C. The screening followed a party at the Museum of African Art with several hundred guests, including congresswoman Barbara Jordan (DTX), Countdown at Kusini stars Dee, Davis, and G. Morris, Bob Powell of Kraft Foods, several senators, and Benbow. In a portent of the film’s critical reception, Dorothy Gilliam, a reporter for the Washington Post, noted that Morris “seemed visibly nervous as guests were leaving the museum for the theater.”18 With sorority members’ attendance, Delta had hoped the first week’s national box office for Countdown at Kusini would be approximately $450,000, a sum that would have been record-breaking for an independently produced black film. However, the film encountered daunting competition. On April 7, 1976, when Countdown at Kusini was released nationally to the general public, it faced a formidable film line-up: All The President’s Men (Academy Award nominee Best Picture; Academy Award winner Screen Play Based on Material from Another Media), Family Plot (Edgar Award winner Best Motion Picture), The Bad News Bears (Writers Guild of America Award winner Best Comedy Written Directly for the Screen), Taxi Driver (Academy Award nominee Best Picture) and the black drama/musical Sparkle. In addition, the reviews of the film did not help Delta’s cause. Vincent Canby’s New York Times review of Countdown at Kusini was particularly flaccid: “it’s a movie that wants to be ‘serious’ about African political aspirations while also being entertaining. Though it tries hard, it’s neither [. . .] .”19 Another New York Times review was far more scathing, describing Countdown at Kusini as a “subpar adventure” and possessing a script that “invite[s] the use of nearly constant music to drown out the dialogue.” Worse, according to the same review, “compounding the troubles are the occasional mismatched shots, and, in effect an epilogue that vitiates its educational strivings.”20 Joel Dreyfuss, a

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critic for the Washington Post, offered a similarly negative review that included passages such as “the viewer may begin to wish the actors in this melodrama about revolution in Africa would get out of the way,” and “while its intentions are good, its results are primarily boring and pointless.”21 Alice Walker, a Delta member, was especially pointed in her critique: Nearly all the flaws in Kusini are both obvious and instructive: [. . .] Ruby Dee’s Leah, Motapo’s tough, beautiful corevolutionist, is often distractingly over-dressed for her role in a poor, embattled country. [. . .] The film’s major flaw is the casting of Greg Morris (who in his plasticity is reminiscent of Richard Nixon) [He] is so awkward and jerky [. . .] that the audience, both times I saw the film, chuckled at his efforts. Another flaw is the obligatory put-down of “the ugly honky woman.”22 Unfortunately for the sorority, exhibitors pulled Countdown at Kusini within days of the film’s arrival, quickly replacing it with bigger films. It was hoped that the film would ultimately gross 7 to 10 million dollars. The final box office take was a paltry $145,322 (50 Top Grossing 24). Countdown at Kusini’s critical and box office failure has left many, over the years, to speculate where the sorority went wrong. Lynnette Taylor, a former Delta executive director, opines: [. . .] the problem was that we were all novices. We didn’t have the margin of funds needed when problems arose. We really didn’t understand distribution. [. . .] I think that it should be accepted as historical fact that we made the effort. We were the only group that I know of who attempted to deal with a film that talked about issues such as the effect of multinational corporations and cartels in Africa. It was a courageous thing to do.23 Ladebo recalls that although “I was deeply proud of them and what they accomplished; it was the general national release of the film” that posed a problem.24 In the end, gone were Delta’s $800,000, Davis’s uncharted contributions, and $500,000 from Johnson Products, an African American–owned hair care and cosmetics company, and an anonymous civil rights organization.25 Decades after the film, Dee holds herself personally accountable for letting down herself and her sorority: I try to forgive myself for not shouting, “Hold on! I can tell you what we need to do. We must find a much simpler story, one close to the sensibilities and concerns of black women. [. . .] In this brave first effort, let us [. . .] get permission from the city for a vacant corner lot— [. . .] getting the unions to do waivers, and perhaps contribute. Furthermore, it can be accomplished with


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the original investment” [. . .] I try to forgive myself for throwing up my hands and going all faint, whispering, “Oh, no, not me. [. . .] Let my husband, let my son-in-law, let the men do it.”26 Despite the failure of Countdown at Kusini Delta believed the project fulfilled its fostering mission of educational and political enlightenment, economic empowerment, and self-sufficiency. Still, it may be questioned if Delta’s response to blaxploitation came just a bit too late. Just two months before the premiere of Countdown at Kusini, the Washington Post reported, “the blaxploitation film is ebbing as a major staple of Hollywood fare. [. . .] Black-white confrontations are being replaced by blacks interacting among themselves, or with whites. And the latter are being portrayed as complete human beings—good and evil, rich and poor, smart and dumb.”27 In the same article, Sidney Poitier, director and Academy Award–winning actor, also was predicting the genre’s demise: [. . .] but to get a constant diet of black super heroes beating up on white Mafia guys is infantile, and it doesn’t address itself to our intelligence. The expectations of black audiences have been expanded considerably over the last few years, expanded and dimensionalized. They want to see the honest struggles they can recognize as being in part symbolic of their lives. It’s time to move on.28

However, the Washington Post and Poitier may have been premature, given the 1975–79 releases of blaxploitation films such as Bucktown, Mandingo, Petey Wheatstraw, and Soul Vengeance. These movies barely registered on film critics’ radar. As such, Countdown at Kusini encountered greater critical scrutiny than its far less narratively and ideologically ambitious counterparts. In the end, Rob Cohen, producer of The Bingo Long All-Stars and the Motor Kings, best explains the fate of films such as Countdown at Kusini: “people aren’t going to buy [social themes]. They want a shark marauding off the coast of a vacation spot or ‘The Sting.’ If there’s one thing an audience doesn’t want, it’s a message. If there’s one thing beyond that, it’s a black message.”29 Notes This chapter is a redacted version of Robin Means Coleman, “Delta Signma Theta as Filmmaker: The Making and Demise of Countdown to Kusini,” Journal of Popular Film and Television 32 (2007). Reprinted by permission of Heldref Publications. Epigraph. D. G., “Countdown at Kusini.” Cineastec (Winter 1976), 52. 1. M. Peterson, “On the Aisle. Part II: Deltas Go Hollywood,” Essence, May 1975, 30. 2. Ellen Holly, “Where Are the Films about Real Black Men and Women?” New York Times, June 2, 1974, 127.

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3. Junius Griffin, “Black Movie Boom—Good or Bad?” New York Times, December 17, 1972, D19. 4. Paula Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood: Delta Sigma Theta and the Challenge of the Black Sorority Movement (New York: Perennial, 1988), 9. 5. Peterson, “On the Aisle,” 30. 6. Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood, 288. 7. Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, With Ossie and Ruby: In This Life Together (New York: Morrow, 1998). 8. Ibid., 370. 9. Ibid. 10. Ibid. 11. Peterson, “On the Aisle,” 30, 32. 12. Ibid., 32. 13. A. Terrell, “Filmmaking—A New Field for a Black Sorority,” Washington Post, August 9, 1974, D9. 14. Torriano S. Berry and Venise T. Berry, 50 Most Influential Black Films: A Celebration of African-American Talent, Determination, and Creativity (New York: Citadel, 2001). 15. Ladi Ladebo, Personal Interview, May 24, 2006. 16. Berry and Berry, 50 Most Influential Black Films, 167. 17. Ibid., 168. 18. Dorothy Gilliam, “‘Kusini’ Countdown,” Washington Post, March 31, 1976, F1. 19. Vincent Canby, “Are Black Films Losing Their Blackness?” New York Times, April 25, 1976, 79. 20. L. Van Gelder, “Film: African Adventure. ‘Countdown at Kusini’ about Political Plot,” New York Times, April 17, 1976, 10. 21. Joel Dreyfuss, “‘Kusini’: Away from Blaxploitation,” Washington Post, April 15, 1976, Sec. B. 22. Alice Walker, “Black Sorority Bankrolls Action Film,” Ms., June 4, 1976, 45. 23. Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood, 292. 24. Ladi Ladebo, Personal Interview, May 24, 2006. 25. Berry and Berry, 50 Most Influential Black Films. 26. Davis and Dee, With Ossie and Ruby, 373. 27. Hollie I. West, “Black Films: Crossovers and Beyond Blaxploitation,” Washington Post, February 8, 1976, G9. 28. Ibid. 29. Ibid.

Bibliography Berry, S. Torriano, and Venise T. Berry. 50 Most Influential Black Films: A Celebration of African-American Talent, Determination, and Creativity. New York: Citadel, 2001. Canby, Vincent. “Are Black Films Losing Their Blackness?” New York Times, April 25, 1976, 79. Countdown at Kusini. Dir. Ossie Davis. Perf. Ruby Dee, Davis, and Greg Morris. Columbia Pictures, 1976.


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Davis, Ossie, and Ruby Dee. With Ossie and Ruby: In This Life Together. New York: Morrow, 1998. D. G. “Countdown at Kusini.” Cineastec (Winter 1976): 52. Dreyfuss, Joel. “‘Kusini’: Away from Blaxploitation.” Washington Post, April 15, 1976, sec. B. 50 Top Grossing Films. Variety, May 12, 1976, 24. Giddings, Paula. In Search of Sisterhood: Delta Sigma Theta and the Challenge of the Black Sorority Movement. New York: Perennial, 1988. Gilliam, Dorothy. “‘Kusini’ Countdown.” Washington Post, March 31, 1976, F. Griffin, Junius. “Black Movie Boom—Good or Bad?” New York Times, December 17, 1972, D3, D19. Holly, Ellen. “Where Are the Films about Real Black Men and Women?” New York Times, June 2, 1974, 127. Kongi’s Harvest. Dir. Ossie Davis. Perf. and writ. Wole Soyinka. Calpenny Nigeria, 1970. Ladebo, Ladi. Personal Interview. May 24, 2006. Peterson, M. “On the Aisle. Part II: Deltas Go Hollywood.” Essence, May 1975, 30, 32, 77. Terrell, A. “Filmmaking—A New Field for a Black Sorority.” Washington Post, August 9, 1974, D9. Van Gelder, L. “Film: African Adventure. ‘Countdown at Kusini’ about Political Plot.” New York Times, April 17, 1976, 10. Walker, Alice. “Black Sorority Bankrolls Action Film.” Ms., June 4, 1976, 45. West, Hollie I. “Black Films: Crossovers and Beyond Blaxploitation.” Washington Post, February 8, 1976, G.

Chapter Nine Commentary Derek Fordjour

African American women’s media representation is a subject wrought with disappointment and devaluation. Countdown to Kusini provides much-needed perspective to this tale of exclusion that spans several decades without ever seeming to inevitably reach an otherwise favorable turning point. The Kusini debacle is a story that increases in value with the years. The fact that Delta’s missteps in developing Kusini are obvious to the most casual reader today is evidence of both progress and the benefit of retrospection. The social context in which this story unfolds is as meaningful as the story itself. In the year that Lillian Benbow proposed Kusini there were no African American studies programs, no affirmative action, no talk of diversity. There was only one handful of black millionaires and even fewer in the economic middle class. More profoundly, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was recently assassinated (a historical tragedy that today’s generation can now imagine more vividly in light of the Obama presidency). Black women were routinely cast in roles somewhere between subservience and deviance. The two top-rated black television shows that year starred a singing, dancing Flip Wilson and Red Foxx as an uneducated, drunken, junk dealer with an adult son living at home. A call to Oprah would have been answered in a Tennessee State dormitory. Essence magazine was a fledgling enterprise operating in massive debt, controlled by four men. Spike Lee was a senior at Morehouse. Bob Johnson, the eventual founder of BET, had recently completed graduate school. Denzel Washington was a freshman at Fordham University, Halle Berry was ten, and Jada Pinkett Smith was unborn. As time passes, history will judge Delta’s efforts by more value-centric metrics than box office receipts. As it stands, a survey of the time alone reveals Delta’s greatest misfortune as a matter of timing.

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10. “You Make the Letters. The Letters Don’t Make You” The Construction of Memory and Identity in Stomp the Yard Matthew W. Hughey

The 2007 release of Stomp the Yard, by director Sylvain White and distributor Sony Pictures, helped to usher black Greek-letter organizations into the mainstream milieu. Opening at number one with a first-weekend gross of just over $22 million, and produced on a budget of $13 million, the film eventually grossed over $61 million in the United States and $75 million worldwide. Audiences flocked to witness the story of protagonist “DJ Williams” (Columbus Short)—a new college student at the fictional historically black college/university not so subtly named “Truth University.” Upon his arrival at Truth U., DJ pledges a fictional BGLO named “Theta Nu Theta.” He brings his street and savvy style to the conservative and conventional fraternity, and in doing so learns a valuable life lesson about bridging the past and the present. Hollywood sentimentalism aside, many professional film reviewers stressed how the film relied on the personal expertise of producer Will Packer (himself a veteran member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc.) to make BGLO “authenticity” a top priority: “‘I was on the set every day screaming about how everything had to be real,’ Packer says. ‘I went and put up all my old pictures, paddles and paraphernalia so that everybody could get a feel for this.’”1 Modern film technologies also enabled the film to intimately reproduce many of the sights, sounds, and sophistication of “stepping.” Additionally, the film frequently references the history of the formal civil rights movement to which BGLOs are intimately connected vis-à-vis the intellectual and physical labor of BGLO members like Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, A. Philip Randolph, Fannie Lou Hamer, W. E. B. Du Bois, and Huey P. Newton. The film’s plot device is the drive to convince protagonist DJ Williams (and the audience) that BGLOs are more than elitist social clubs that “step,” but 191

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are vehicles for the realization of civil rights and personal responsibility. As other film reviewers suggest, the movie offers the mainstream audience a unique opportunity to learn about BGLOs: “Walter Kimbrough, author of ‘Black Greek 101,’ said . . . ‘Outside of [a hazing incident], black Greeks don’t make the news. We have to use stepping as a vehicle to get a message out.’”2 In many ways, the film attempts to counter the ignorance regarding BGLOs, outside of a rendering of them as little more than “educated gangs” who step.3 While Stomp the Yard aims to represent BGLOs through stepping, it selectively retells history and constructs a narrative that immerses its audience in a particular mythology of BGLOs. Combining historical photos, traditions of “stepping,” and romanticized aspects of HBCU culture, the film presents a specifically tailored and narrow history of BGLOs that invites a critical blindness to the role of race and resistance, both historically and in the present. As one of the prescient examples of such historiography, the film ends with a still shot of the triumphant Theta Nu Theta fraternity as they celebrate a step show victory. The still shot slowly fades to black and white as the camera pans out to reveal that it is framed alongside canonized photos of other famous BGLO members on the walls of Truth University’s esteemed “Heritage Hall.” Underneath the photo, a plaque reads: “You make the letters. The letters don’t make you.” While such memorializing visual rhetoric might actually be found in any of the BGLOs’ national headquarters, the film delivers a message to unsuspecting audience members that equates a step show victory with the labors of Dr. King’s Poor Peoples Movement, Dr. Newton’s Black Panther Party, and Dr. Du Bois’s NAACP. The point is that films are catalysts for memorializing. Moreover, the symbolic exchange of meanings in the theater resonate with dominant ideology and official, state-sanctioned memories. Such a dynamic remains at the heart of the social and collective practices of remembering—and these are hardly matters of individual valuation or construction. Thus, Stomp the Yard’s images, especially the last frame of the black-and-white photograph in “Heritage Hall,” are sustainable because film gestures toward a particular sense of history and identity that is engineered for our collective consolation. BGLO activists challenged society’s laws, customs, and structure in ways that were often perceived as unpleasant and uncouth. Retelling their contributions on the silver screen anaesthetizes their actions and makes them into pleasant signifiers of nonconfrontational racial victories that were won as easily as a step show. Such a dynamic is reminiscent of V. I. Lenin’s observations nearly a century prior: During the lifetime of great revolutionaries, oppressing classes constantly hounded them, received their theories with the most savage malice, the most furious hatred and the most unscrupulous campaigns of lies and slander. After their death, attempts are made to convert them into harmless icons, to canon-

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ize them, so to say, and to hallow their names to a certain extent for the “consolation” of the oppressed classes and with the object of duping the latter, while at the same time robbing the revolutionary theory of its substance, blunting its revolutionary edge and vulgarizing it.4 In this light, film is a participatory public memorial that assists in constructing both our memories and our identities. The film’s cultural significance turns on the fact that it works as a “consolation of the oppressed classes” that “canonizes” BGLOs and their resistive elements within the scope of Hollywood cinema. Stomp the Yard reproduces many of the constraints that some might argue their writers, producers, and directors are attempting to displace; it facilitates an understanding of BGLOs and their significance in the struggles for equality and justice as “vulgar,” “blunted,” and “harmless” iconography. The film decontextualizes stepping’s roots and cultural import so that it functions instead as a one-dimensional spectacle. Finally, it portrays racism, classism, and sexism as individual personality quirks or fraternal rivalry, rather than as cultural or institutional problems endemic to the racialized society that spawned a separate BGLO and HBCU system, not to mention the civil rights movement, in the first place.

Collective Memory and Identity The term “collective memory” serves to conceptually separate individual (psychological) and collective (sociological) memory.5 In that sense, collective memory is shared, passed on, and constructed by a social group.6 Control over historical events’ meaning may seem incredibly distant from policy making and other “real life” concerns. Yet, history profoundly affects the grand histories, meta-narratives, and “common sense” of our present.7 While collective memory is reproduced through the construction of memorials and national monuments, today we can easily note how the media sustains memory through a continuous stream of representations. In an era of increased digitalization, there is escalating participation in an economy of memories that trade on the production, distribution, and consumption of race, gender, and class. In this vein, memory is cultural. Marita Sturken writes: To define a memory as cultural is, in effect, to enter into a debate about what that memory means. This process does not efface the individual but rather involves the interaction of individuals in the creation of meaning. Cultural memory is a field of cultural negotiation through which different stories vie for a place in history.8

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It is germane to consider how film and culture intersect to both selectively remember which certain pasts are remembered over others, as well as how the pasts selected as worthy of remembrance are framed as (ir)relevant to the present. As David Grainge writes in Memory and Popular Film, “The balance of memory and forgetting in American culture—what is remembered, by who[m] and for who[m]—has in recent years become entwined in hegemonic struggles fought and figured around the negotiation of America’s national past.”9 Such struggles gained relevance in regard to race and racial identity as the nation moved, at the turn of the new millennium, into an era of supposed “colorblindness”—a particularly violent rhetoric that obfuscates the disconnect between discourses of racial progress and the material realities of entrenched segregation and domination in the major social structures of everyday life. These cinematic discourses concerning race and the past have accelerated in recent years. This trend is symptomatic of Hollywood’s articulation and codification of a cultural past. Whether or not films like Mississippi Burning (1988), Glory (1989), Malcolm X (1992), Higher Learning (1995), A Time to Kill (1996), Ghosts of Mississippi (1996), Get on the Bus (1996), 4 Little Girls (1997), Amistad (1997), Rosewood (1997), Bamboozled (2000), Freedom Song (2000), A Huey P. Newton Story (2001), Boycott (2001), The Rosa Parks Story (2002), and Amazing Grace (2006) represent a revisionst program of alternative remembrance or something more benign, they all garner powerful currency in the cinematic remembrance and representation of race and resistance. While “memory studies” is a rapidly expanding field, those who study the intersection of visual media, historiography, and race rarely employ its framework. One particularly insightful divergence from this trend is Renee C. Romano and Leigh Raiford’s edited volume entitled The Civil Rights Movement in American Memory (2006), in which they and their contributing authors argue that struggles over the memory of race and civil rights are not a diversion from the real political work of fighting for racial equality and equal rights: rather, they are the key sites of that struggle.10 In this sense, William D. Routt (2006) argues in “The Film of Memory”: To put it baldly, I am saying that films, and especially popular films (for of all films, popular films are those made most surely for showing in public), constitute history. Not that they interpret history or substitute for it, but that they are history. Not the past, but history. And not the only history, but, if you like, in some sense the truest sort.11 To examine how popular-film-as-history takes possession of the past by assigning meaning to it, we must acknowledge that such activity is a recollection of agreed-upon dogma that, as Søren Kierkegaard insists, is suffused with melancholy and romanticized nostalgia.12 In this vein, Roland Barthes’s thoughts


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are particularly insightful.13 In writing about the process of mythologization, Barthes refers to cinematic narratives’ tendency to become “naturalized.” So, while a film such as Stomp the Yard may bring generally marginalized topics into the mainstream such as BGLOs, HBCUs, and civil rights leaders, it simultaneously sanctifies and masks references to their socioeconomic, racial, and gendered causes, as well as the greater implications of those associations, educational institutions, and social movements. Why do these mythologies matter? They matter because the patterned deployment of dominant BGLO mythologies, like those in Stomp the Yard, do not merely depict BGLOs but are constitutive of BGLOs. To foreground this provocative concept, it is necessary to rethink the concept of “representation,” which has a bit of a double meaning. On the one hand, visual images are representations of objects and people that preexist. On the other hand, visual images are also stand-ins that replace things that are supposedly being represented. In this latter sense, representations are processes by which meanings are attached to the objects and people that are depicted. Their meaning does not exist a priori as a sort of essential or fixed reality. The meanings of things are constantly in processes of reformulation and negotiation in social space. Thus, representations of objects and people become constitutive of those objects and people. Until BGLOs are represented in the public sphere, they will have no public meanings, as BGLOs will not exist in “reality” and outside of representational practices. Furthermore, when various representations of BGLOs rely on various socially shared and commemorative mythologies in an attempt to ameliorate the meaning of BGLOs in a particular cinematic regime of representation, those “reel” images can become the defining text for BGLOs in the “real” world.

Visualizing Black Greeks: A Brief Overview African American fraternities’ insular worlds bear witness to only a handful of manifestations in major Hollywood productions. One such example is the rather innocuous and ancillary plotline of Drumline (2002), in which band members’ social cohesion on an HBCU campus was paralleled to BGLO references and visual allusions. Another representation is Revenge of the Nerds (1984) in which a group of white “nerds” tricked the fictional black fraternity “Lambda Lambda Lambda” into establishing a chapter on their campus. In this case, the black fraternity served as a background device that allowed the plot and rising action to develop; their presence was invisibilized throughout the entire film until the very end, when they emerged to save their “nerdy” brothers. The most infamous cinematic representation of BGLOs is Spike Lee’s indictment of the black Greek system in School Daze (1988), in which the fictional “Gamma Phi

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Gamma” fraternity is portrayed as a cadre of loutish elitists and sexual prurients who maintain a host of self-hating, racial identity psychoses. Stomp the Yard represents a huge contribution to the available media on BGLOs. However, its marketing and resemblance to recent films in the genre of dance subculture like Save the Last Dance (2001), You Got Served (2004), Step Up (2006), and Take the Lead (2006) (among many others), direct most to frame the film by its overused narrative clichés and dance iconography. Yet, despite the film’s limitations, the film’s theater run proved lucrative and its posttheater run was set. Immediately after leaving theaters, John Malon’s Starz network picked it up for an eighteen-month exclusive pay-television window. After that run’s conclusion in April 2009, it moved to TNT/TBS where it will remain for two years, whereby VH1 and BET will share the film in 2012. In the fourth and fifth years of post-theater play it returns to TNT/TBS, and in 2015 the film finds a home once again with VH1 and BET.14

Narrative Criticism: Blending Analysis and Aestheticism In order to empirically study these mythologies, I employ the technique of narrative criticism. This method is a valuable tool for scholars seeking to make arguments about “the users of the stories and the state of culture that is revealed in their understanding of symbols.”15 Narrative criticism focuses on a speaker or writer’s stories to understand how they help us make meaning out of our daily human experiences. According to Walter Fisher, narratives are fundamental to communication. Narratives provide structure for human experience and influence people to share common explanations and understandings.16 As in other methods, narrative film criticism begins by posing research questions that guide the analysis and interpretation. Examples include the following: what are the pivotal moments in the film, what do the writers/producers/directors identify as the critical elements they use to give the film a special quality or place it within a specific genre, what are the specific devices the film uses to promote its story line and give the film a specific meaning? The method I present initially involved answering these questions, then built upon this foundation to illuminate the film’s broader meanings. In this sense, the method blends two established paradigms: narrative method and aesthetic criticism.17 The merging of both methods allows for a rich level of insight into unique human experiences.18


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Step-by-Step Mythologies Due to the racially segregated character of the United States, many within its borders spend little time interacting with people of different racial or ethnic groups.19 This point is particularly true for whites. “According to the 2000 census, whites are most likely to be segregated than any other group.”20 As a result, popular films about racialized “subcultures” (like BGLOs and HBCUs) offer people, especially whites, narratives for experiences they will most likely never encounter. As the social theorist George Lipsitz notes, racialized films “probably frame memory for the greatest number of people.”21 Further, the film scholar Daniel Bernardi writes: Cinema is everywhere a fact of our lives, saturating our leisure time, our conversation, and our perceptions of each other and of self. Because of this, race in cinema is neither fictional nor illusion. It is real because it is meaningful and consequential; because it impacts real people’s lives.22 Roland Barthes’s perspectives allow us to read popular media as full of meanings that constitute our everyday lives. Moreover, we can question whether such cultural texts are naturally and innocently capable of producing all sorts of supplementary meanings (or “connotations” as Barthes preferred). While movies have a certain utility, Barthes wanted theorists to bracket function to consider which specific mythologies assist audiences in viewing cinematic representations as innate and authentic, rather than as social creations that are tied to specific class, gender, and racialized interests. By applying this perspective, Stomp the Yard relies on a narrow form of commemoration in which black activists, institutions, and traditions that are commonly contested and problematic symbols in “real life” find temporary resolution in “reel life.” In the following text, I identify four mythologies that help to construct particular memories and identities.

The Miseducation of BGLO Stepping

Stomp the Yard’s representation of BGLOs and stepping compels the audience to identify with the supposed centrality of BGLO stepping within campus life. As soon as the film’s protagonist, “DJ” (Columbus Short), settles into his dormitory room, he meets his roommate “Rich Brown” (Ne-Yo), who casually extends an invitation to a bar-b-que hosted by “some Deltas.” DJ soon ventures out to explore campus. Perhaps not unexpectedly, DJ runs into Rich—where great numbers of students are gathered to watch a BGLO step show. As the Theta Nu Theta (TNT) fraternity emerges to begin its step routine, DJ looks puzzled and asks Rich in a defiant tone, “What the hell are they doing, man?”

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“They’re stomping the yard. Where’re you from?” Rich replies with a quizzical tone of disbelief. As the reigning seven-year champs Mu Gamma Xi (the Mus) defiantly enter the show, DJ becomes embroiled in an altercation when he accidentally steps in between a line of Mu fraternity brothers (an action signifying extreme disrespect; any outsider to breach a line of brothers demonstrates weakness, lack of unity, and frailty on the part of that fraternity). The point is driven home only minutes later when DJ runs into one of the Mus named “Grant”: “Oh yeah, I remember you. You’re the idiot that tried to break our step-line.” Such an “educational” narrative about the social BGLO scene, which propels campus life, is driven home in no more than eight minutes. Immediately following the crash course on BGLOs and stepping, the writers and producers emphasize that a winning step show is the center of the BGLO and HBCU universe. In presenting a dormitory dialogue between “Rich” (NeYo), “Byron” (Justin Hires), “Noel” (Jermaine Williams), and “Easy” (Oliver Ryan Best), the characters sarcastically engage the point that while fraternities may have “history,” “tradition,” and “legacy,” winning step shows is what really matters: Rich: Theta Nu Theta is gonna wipe the floor with Mu Gamma Xi. Byron: How’s that? Rich: Cause I’m gonna join. Noel: Dude, why you pledging Theta anyway? They tired . . . and they never

win step championships. Rich: So? Noah: “So?” What else is there? Rich: What about history? What about tradition? What about legacy? Easy: [laughing] Yeah, legacy of losing.

Even TNT, the rather “good guy” and “traditional” fraternity, buys into the logic that stepping, and little more, is the key to success for any BGLO, as illustrated when “Sylvester” (Brian J. White) (president of TNT) approaches DJ to convince him to pledge: Sylvester: I’m here to talk to you about Theta Nu Theta. DJ: You’re kidding right? Sylvester: No. DJ: What about it? Sylvester: Some of the members of my pledge committee, they feel that

you would be an asset to the house. DJ: Naw, Mu Gamma has murdered your asses for the last seven years and you’re here because you think I can help change all that.


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However, the writers and directors seem painfully aware that the film— the first major Hollywood film on BGLOs since Spike Lee’s School Daze (1988)—cannot simply reduce the complexity of BGLOs to the tradition of stepping. In an attempt to temper this dilemma, agonizingly obvious caveats are sporadically thrown in the film. For instance, the character of “April” (Meagan Good) broaches the subject of fraternities with DJ while they are out on their first date: April: So I heard the Mu Gammas are trying to recruit you, so you gonna

pledge? DJ: Probably not, I don’t wanna step. April: Being in a fraternity is about a lot more than just stepping.

Additionally, Sylvester, the president of Theta Nu Theta, advises DJ that becoming a member of his fraternity (Theta Nu Theta) carries much more than the “sweet deal” of step show grandeur promised by other fraternities. Sylvester: There’s a screening process, all applicants go through it. You want to apply? That’s up to you. DJ: Funny, cause Mu Gamma come in here offering me a sweet deal and the best you can come up with is, “I can apply.” Sylvester: If a sweet deal is really what you’re looking for, Theta ain’t for you. A fraternity, now that’s a brotherhood of men who forge a lifetime bond. Okay, once you are a Theta you will always and forever be a Theta. Now you can go outta here, you can leave Truth as a young educated brother from the hood. And homey that’s great. But if you pledge Theta, you gonna get that same education and you’ll become a member of our lifetime brotherhood.

Still, these admonitions fall short, as the great majority of the film’s tone and timbre glorifies stepping as the route to campus popularity, personal development, and brotherly ties. A large portion of the film’s visual space is dominated by stepping. This in and of itself poses no critical dilemma. However, the portrayal of stepping as both a hallowed method and revered goal is problematic. Issues of its circumstance, history, purpose, audience, the phenomenological experience of its participants, and the structural relation of its operations, are all secondary or nonexistent in relation to the critical point of the film: stepping is what defines BGLOs and BGLOs define stepping.23 BGLOs’ complexity, whether thought positive or negative, is severely diluted. BGLO community service is absent, practices of hazing are vaguely referenced (in one scene, DJ is depicted carefully and slowly sitting down due to what appears to be a long night of “paddling” on his posterior, to which the character of “April” gleefully

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laughs), and BGLO members’ historic roles as campus leaders and scholars are neglected. As Tom Mould writes, step shows are the first and most frequent encounters with black Greek life. Many black Greeks find this problematic, fearing the reinforcement of racist stereotypes of blacks solely as entertainers as well as a distortion of black Greek life. Stepping has been constructed over the years to portray only a small and idealized part of black Greek identity and therefore presents problems as means of understanding the complexity of black identity.24 The problem of representing BGLO stepping is by no means endemic only to Stomp the Yard, but is indicative of a larger cultural dilemma that BGLOs faced celebrating the tradition of stepping without being defined by it.

Down South on “The Yard”: Depictions of Black College Life

While the film is set in the metropolis of Atlanta, Georgia, the film is rife with images of pastoral landscapes, plantation-style mansions, and smoke-filled pool halls. Whether images of drives through campus, trips to DJ’s aunt and uncle’s large home and sprawling lawn, or jogs through a verdant forest in the midafternoon, the views are more evocative of those in Gone With the Wind (1939) rather than contemporary cinema. Atlanta’s geography is thus eviscerated by the film. And because the audience knows that DJ is headed “down South for school,” the setting captures claims to “authenticity” in ways that would be made problematic by the cinematic presence of high-rise buildings, concrete sidewalks, and Starbucks on every corner. “Cities” are largely coded as “northern,” and “the South” is portrayed as undeveloped, rural, and agrarian; a space far from the troubles of urban modernity where black college youth go to “discover themselves.” Stomp the Yard draws on this cultural narrative to ground its location. Truth University is framed as an isolated pocket of turbulence and competition within the milieu of southern silence and bucolic beauty. Truth U.’s inner turmoil is evidenced by a black administration that utilizes unscrupulous tactics, a hierarchical system of wage-labor, and black-on-black classism. The role of academics in student life is so submerged that it manifests itself only in regard to romantic liaisons with “study partners” and the bureaucratic “iron cage” of class registration. While the film contains many depictions of young men and women studying quietly in libraries, such activities are often backdrop imagery that foreground dialogue about parties, stepping, pledging, and masculine rivalry. The “real” Truth University is not academic; rather, it is comprised of nocturnal extracurricular activities that take place at dance clubs, dormitory rooms, and step show competitions. While such a dynamic is somewhat expected given the genre of college-based cinema, the story’s placement


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at an HBCU makes the “real” story revolve around the quest to find an “authentic” form of black racial identity that is closely allied with dancing and partying. Even in the now dated Animal House (1978) or the more contemporary Old School (2003), the Greek-affiliated characters like “John ‘Bluto’ Blutarsky” (John Belushi) in the former and “Frank Ricard” (Will Ferrell) in the latter are concerned with the proper grades to graduate and/or appeasing the university administration in order to remain on campus. By stark contrast, Stomp the Yard focuses on discovering an essentialized form of blackness within the HBCU experience—southern roots, family ties, and ancestral linkages to famous black Greeks. Such constructions of HBCU life rely on nostalgic fictions of black college life that turn on the implicit acceptance of stereotypical and essentialist renderings of black racial identity, the South, and adolescence. To borrow from Pierre Bourdieu, these mythologies enact a certain “symbolic violence” on HBCUs. As Bourdieu writes, In the symbolic struggle for the production of common sense or, more precisely, for the monopoly of legitimate naming as the official—i.e. explicit and public—imposition of the legitimate vision of the social world, agents bring into play the symbolic capital that they have acquired . . . those inscribed in people’s minds or in the objective world, such as qualification.25 The production of that imagery effectively conflates “real life” and “reel life” while obfuscating many of the realities of HBCUs in ways that mystify their unique contributions. For example, in comparing black attendance at HBCUs with predominately white institutions (PWIs), more than twice as many African American students at HBCUs reported that campus extracurricular activities reflected their interests (28 percent at HBCUs vs. 12 percent at PWIs), while significantly more African American students at PWIs reported that they “hardly ever” participated in campus activities (31 percent at PWIs vs. 23 percent at HBCUs).26 Furthermore HBCUs award over 25 percent of bachelor degrees to African American students, with 35 percent of blacks earning a bachelor’s in chemistry and the biological sciences, 37 percent in math, and a remarkable 61 percent in physics.27 Also, black students completing their undergraduate education at HBCUs are more likely than those from PWIs to attend graduate school and to complete doctoral degrees in science and engineering.28 The aforementioned realities have no place in Stomp the Yard, as they do not fit with the narrative of HBCUs as spaces for the exoticism of black bodies. This absence gestures toward perhaps the most disturbing element of the film’s representation of Truth University—HBCUs’ intellectual contributions and co-curricular complexity are diminished while the corporeal aspects of black bodies (as dancers, steppers, and lovers) are both naturalized and valorized.

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Imagery that is particularly violent toward the legacies of black centers of higher learning is used as capital to purchase the audience’s belief that the images they view are both authentic and enchantingly different.

BGLOs and the Struggle for Civil and Human Rights

At key moments throughout the film, the audience is afforded visual images and discursive references to the fact that BGLOs played a significant role in the struggle for civil and human rights throughout the twentieth century. As Theda Skocpol and colleagues write, African American fraternal groups played many roles in the lengthy struggle for equal civil rights in America that eventually culminated in the modern Civil Rights movement. . . . If we posit black fraternals as one of the institutional seedbeds for the values and norms that led ultimately to civil rights . . . African American fraternalists, like African American churchgoers, helped to steel themselves for the collective struggles to move toward civic equality in America.29

Relying on these notable facts, the writers and producers of the film employ photographic depictions of historic BGLO/civil rights leaders. In an attempt to add complexity to the one-dimensional story of BGLO stepping, the film converts BGLOs’ legacy into a quick, plot-driving device for individual sentimentalism and wistful melancholy about the past struggles of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (Alpha Phi Alpha), Rosa Parks, and Coretta Scott King (Alpha Kappa Alpha). In this vein, the iconography of BGLO/civil rights leaders plays the over-romanticized role of fixing personal troubles rather than alleviating social problems. The social forces of racism and classism (embodied in white supremacy and economic exploitation) are reduced to stumbling blocks that one can overcome by simply altering one’s state of mind, rather than confronting the structural dynamics that (re)produce such inequities. Famous BGLO members serve as vehicles to privilege the personal over the political. And while it is a truism that the “personal is political,” the film disconnects individuals’ ability to challenge structural inequality through its insinuation that structural inequality no longer exists. Such neoliberal cinematic constructions of civil rights memory domesticate and belittle the violence, struggle, and pain of not only the effects of white supremacy and a deepening gap between rich and poor, but also the movement that resisted those tyrannies. As Sharon Monteith writes, An obvious problem for filmmakers is “receding concreteness,” to borrow Adorno’s phrasing. In (re)connecting with a disappearing history, civil rights film narratives are typically recursive, but what they actually suffer from is “presentism,” whereby the pressures of the present distort our understanding of the


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past. Character-led dramas . . . promote a single monologic point of view to create what has ubiquitously come to be known as a “useable past.”30 Filmmakers prioritize locating publicly available or “useable” memories that will resonate with audiences. When they find this synthesis, partial and personal stories masquerade as political and public facts. All human interactions, struggles, and dilemmas are thus reduced to individual dilemmas, confession, and disclosure. For example, when DJ walks into Truth University’s “Heritage Hall,” he gazes solemnly at a wall covered in black and white pictures of famous BGLO members. He turns to read a sign that states, “Black Greek Letter Organizations. People who changed history. You make the letters. The letters don’t make you.” During this 140-second stretch of film without dialogue, DJ’s silent exposure to the hallowed halls of black Greekdom magically do the trick; he undergoes a hyper-individualized “civil rites of passage,” through which he suddenly understands that BGLOs possess a legacy that stretches far beyond step shows and parties.31 DJ then immediately pledges TNT, foregoing his previous beliefs and opinions about BGLOs as self-serving, elitist social clubs. Stomp the Yard’s reductionism reflects the discursive hallmark of neoliberal thinking, coined by British prime minister Margaret Thatcher: “there is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women.”32 Such framing fails to recognize movies as culturally conditioned products that are embedded in our already established structures of feeling and sentimentalizing about the past.

DJ and Grant: The Janus-Face of the Meritocracy Myth

The film is grounded by the antagonism between two central characters: DJ and Grant. First, DJ represents the rebel without a cause from the wrong side of the tracks who struggles to find his way in the culture of higher education. Second, Grant is the child of consummate privilege, raised in what E. Franklin Frazier called the “Black Bourgeoisie.” The film relies on these characters to personify two aspects of meritocracy’s dominant discourse. In the first, the character of DJ is an incarnation of the victory of hard work over harsh circumstances. In the second, the character of Grant is the manifestation of a conservative morality tale that dictates those with ethical failings will eventually be stripped of their undeserving success. Together, these two characters are the Janus-faced ideology of meritocracy in which upward social mobility is explained by the personal attributes of hard work and morality. According to this particular ideology, often labeled the “American Dream,” the path of higher education leads to a land of limitless opportunity in which individuals can go as far as their merit takes them. According to this mythic weltanschauung, one gets out of the system what one puts into it. Upward social mobility is based on individual merit, which is generally viewed as a

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combination of innate abilities, hard work, the right attitude, and high moral character. As countless scholars have outlined, most North Americans not only tend to think this is how the system should work, but most also believe this is how the system does work.33 Given this ideological framework’s dominance, Stomp the Yard complies with this Horatio Algiers–style nationalistic narrative. Yet, as Stephen J. McNamme and Robert K. Miller Jr. argue in The Meritocracy Myth, this assertion’s validity is not defensible empirically.34 That is, while merit does indeed affect who ends up with what, merit’s impact on upward mobility is vastly overestimated. Myriad non-merit factors suppress, neutralize, or even negate the effects of merit and create barriers to individual mobility. Stomp the Yard tells a different tale in the respective rise and fall of DJ and Grant. For DJ, his personal struggles are couched in the lower-class environment from which he emerges. According to the “culture of poverty” argument, people are poor because they inherit deviant or pathological values from previous generations, creating a vicious cycle of poverty. From this perspective, poor people are portrayed as anti-work, anti-family, anti-school, and anti-success. However, evidence suggests that poor people do not possess “deviant” or “pathological” values, but instead value work, family, school, and achievement as much as those with higher socioeconomic standing.35 Despite such evidence, the film presents DJ as overcoming his background of pathological inner-city thug-culture in order to succeed. DJ exists as a personified site of struggle between abstract morality and a specific lower-class, black, urban background. Because DJ overcomes this environment, he provides “proof ” of meritocratic rule’s legitimacy. A great deal of the film’s footage is dedicated to scenes of DJ working for his college education. Due to an understated dynamic of nepotism, DJ’s uncle gives him a job working for Truth U. in the physical maintenance and landscaping department. Various scenes show DJ planting flowers, mowing the lawn, and clearing brush—a type of labor that is framed as sincere and moral—“an honest day’s work.” The film’s repetitive representation of DJ engaged in such work effectively juxtaposes him against his fellow students who can afford to enroll at Truth University because of scholarships or their parents’ money. Unlike others in the film (which portrays no other student workers), DJ earns his education; nothing is given to him or free. After a long day of work, DJ trudges along the sidewalk, rake and garbage bag in hand. Suddenly, his uncle pulls up beside him, saying, “Get in, man, I’ll give you a ride back.” As they drive off together, they pass the mansions that are home to elitist fraternity members who sit on their porches or play touch football in their front yards. DJ shakes his head disapprovingly. Noticing his nephew’s distaste, his uncle states, “They getting the very same education as you, so don’t pay them any mind.” In reality, they are probably not getting the


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same education. With business and commerce schools now requiring higher GPAs and with those majors yielding different economic-life chances, access to a fraternity yields alumni networks, test banks, and a host of other amenities that enable college success. As a foil to DJ’s character, Grant (aptly named in that his parents’ socioeconomic status confers him with high status) is portrayed as rude, insensitive, and lacking in “moral fiber.” Because of this persona, he quickly becomes the character that audiences love to hate. In one particular scene with his then girlfriend April, Grant proposes to her, but in so doing demonstrates his lack of concern for her as well as his controlling and paternalistic attitude. Grant: April, there’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about [hands her a diamond engagement ring]. It belonged to my grandmother. April: It’s beautiful. Grant: Try it on. [long pause] April: Grant, what’s my favorite color? Grant: Red, why? No, no, no, blue. What’s this about? April: I don’t know. Grant: Please tell me this has nothing to do with that kid [DJ]. April: I’m sorry. Grant: If you don’t come to your senses and quick, you are going to lose out on me. April: I really can’t believe you just said that. Grant: You are spoiled and ungrateful and I am taking you home. April : You know what, don’t bother. Oh, and my favorite color is green, asshole.

As Grant loses his girlfriend April to his nemesis DJ, he begins to exhibit more Machiavellian tendencies: from asking April’s father (a school administrator) to put pressure on April to dump DJ, to digging up DJ’s criminal past to have him suspended from school, and in directing his fraternity brothers to spy on DJ’s step-show practice to win the annual step-show competition. As he engages in more wanton acts of disrespect and underhandedness, he is primed to fall from grace. This dynamic makes Stomp the Yard a stock-and-trade conservative morality tale. In order for DJ to justly de-throne Grant, Grant must prove himself unworthy by losing the girl, losing the step show, and losing his hold on campus dominance. If Grant were not presented as a child of privilege lacking in personal scruples, the film would fail to resonate with the audience, as the clear moral protagonist would not be made manifest.

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Conclusion The beguiling morality tale of the rise of DJ and the fall of Grant, the destructive reduction of the civil rights movement into a tale of personal redemption and initiative, and the singular focus on BGLOs and their Greek-letter-adorned bodies as manifestations of exotic and essentialized difference all complement the prevailing ideological revisionism and political neoliberalism of the film’s 2007 release. Simultaneously, the film obfuscates such a connection by focusing on retrospective tributes to a past that never existed. Whether we are moved by the photographs in “Heritage Hall” or DJ’s ability to pull himself up by his bootstraps as he works his way through college to obtain Greek letters, the girl, and the grandeur of step show victory, we are encouraged to react with positive affectation. However, we are neither allowed to glimpse the ways in which ordinary HBCU students navigate a world in which racial identity will significantly affect on their ability to obtain employment after college, 36 nor are we able to gain access to BGLOs’ modern-day struggles as they wrestle with hazing, homophobia, or inter-fraternity high-jinks and hatred.37 Such a vacuum suggests that BGLOs are relatively free of such problems and that civil rights acts of self-collective determinism and confrontation are inconceivable in this day and age. If we take the film at its word, the civil rights movement only exists in history, framed in dusty black and white photos in a neglected college building. The struggles of the past are no longer needed and DJ feels no compulsion to change the world, he just wants to dance in it.38 In so long as we passively accept film as little more than entertainment, while also submissively ignoring the cinematic construction of “truth” and “history,” we enter into a kind of “spectator democracy” that encourages whole-scale passivity at the exclusion of active consumerism.39 Ultimately, the confluence of ideologies in which the resistive, impolite legacies of civil rights leaders and BGLOs are transformed into muted narratives, and the corporate media impulse to produce profit from larger and larger audiences that desire those narratives, reveals the troubling state of our public discourse about race, resistance, and remembrance.40

Notes 1. Joshua Alston, “Stepping Out of Line?” Newsweek, January 11, 2007. http://www .newsweek.com/id/52578 (accessed March 11, 1008). 2. Johnathan E. Briggs, “Black Frats Say Film out of Step,” Chicago Tribune, January 12, 2007. http://www.umass.edu/greek/uploads/listWidget/11813/Chicago%20Tribune-


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Black%20frats%20say%20film%20out%20of%20step%2001_22_07%20pdf.pdf (accessed March 12, 2008). 3. See Matthew W. Hughey, “Brotherhood or Brothers in the ‘Hood?’ Debunking the ‘Educated Gang’ Thesis as Black Fraternity and Sorority Slander,” Race, Ethnicity, and Education 11, no. 4 (December 2008): 443–63, and Matthew W. Hughey, “‘Cuz I’m Young and I’m Black and My Hat’s Real Low?’: A Critique of Black Greeks as ‘Educated Gangs,’” in Black Greek Letter Organizations in the Twenty-first Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, ed. Gregory S. Parks (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008), 385–417. 4. Vladimir I. Lenin, State and Revolution (1918; rpt. New York: International Publishers Co., 1932), 1. 5. Maurice Halbwachs, The Collective Memory, trans. Francis J. Ditter Jr. and Vida Yazdi Ditter (New York: Harper Colophon, 1980). 6. Emile Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, trans. K. Fields (1912; rpt. New York: Free Press, 1995). 7. John Bodnar, “Saving Private Ryan and Postwar Memory in America,” American Historical Review 106, no. 3(June 2001): 808. 8. Marita Sturken, Tangled Memories: The Vietnam War, the AIDS Epidemic, and the Politics of Remembering (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1997), 1. 9. David Grange, Memory and Popular Film (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2003), 3. 10. Renee C. Romano and Leigh Raiford, The Civil Rights Movement in American Memory (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2006). 11. William D. Routt, “The Film of Memory,” Screening the Past. http://www.latrobe .edu.au/screeningthepast/19/film-of-memory.html. 12. Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling/Repetition (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1983). 13. See Roland Barthes, Mythologies, trans. Annette Laver (New York: Hill and Wang, 1972); Roland Barthes, Roland Barthes, trans. Richard Howard (New York: Hill and Wang, 1977); Roland Barthes, S/Z, trans. Richard Miller (New York: Hill and Wang, 1974); Dana B. Polan, “Roland Barthes and the Moving Image,” October 18 (Autumn 1981): 41–46. 14. John Dempsey, “‘Stomp’ Romps to $7 Million. Movie Scores Network-Window Deals,” Variety. http://www.variety.com/article/VR1117960390.html?categoryid=1238&cs=1 (accessed March 1, 2007). 15. Malcolm O. Sillars and Bruce E. Gronbeck, Communication Criticism: Rhetoric, Social Codes, Cultural Studies (Long Grove, Ill.: Waveland Press, 2001), 212. 16. Walter Fisher, Human Communication as Narration: Toward a Philosophy of Reason, Value, and Action (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1987), 58. 17. By “narrative method,” I refer to C. K. Riessman, Narrative Analysis, Qualitative Research Methods Series, 30 (Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage, 1993), and by “aesthetic criticism,” I refer to P. Chinn, M. K. Maeve, and C. Bostick, “Aesthetic Inquiry and the Art of Nursing,” Scholarly Inquiry for Nursing Practice: An International Journal 11, no. 2 (1997): 83–96. 18. Such a methodology is clearly explained in Linda Honan Pellico and Peggy L. Chinn, “Narrative Criticism: A Systematic Approach to the Analysis of Story,” Journal of Holistic Nursing 25, no. 1 (2007): 58–65. 19. Douglass S. Massey and Nancy A. Denton, American Apartheid: Segregation and the Making of the Underclass (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1993).

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20. California Newsreel, “Race Literacy Quiz. What differences make a difference?” 2003. http://www.newsreel.org/guides/race/quiz.htm (accessed January 6, 2007). 21. George Lipsitz, The Possessive Investment in Whiteness: How White People Profit from Identity Politics (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1998), 219. 22. Daniel Bernardi, The Persistence of Whiteness: Race and Contemporary Hollywood Cinema (New York: Routledge, 2007), xvi. 23. African American media representation is often discussed along the lines of whether it is a “good” or “bad” representation. Such a discourse, I believe, misses the point. The crux of the matter is well made by prominent social and cultural theorist bell hooks: “Discussions of representation among African Americans usually occur within the context of emerging identity politics, again with the central focus on whether images are considered ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ The idea of a good image is often informed simply by whether or not it differs from a racist stereotype . . . . Issues of context, form, audience, experience (all of which inform the construction of images) are usually completely submerged when judgments are made solely on the basis of good or bad imagery.” See bell hooks, Yearning: Race, Gender, and Cultural Politics (Boston: South End Press, 1990), 72. 24. Tom Mould, “‘Running the Yard’: The Negotiation of Masculinities in African American Stepping,” in Manly Traditions: The Folk Roots of American Masculinities, ed. Simon J. Bronner (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2005), 77–115, 78. 25. Pierre Bourdieu, “Cultural Power,” in Cultural Sociology, ed. Lynn Spillman (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Press, 2002), 69–76, 72. 26. Charles L. Outcalt and Thomas E. Skewes-Cox, “Involvement, Interaction, and Satisfaction: The Human Environment at HBCUs,” Review of Higher Education 25, no. 3 (2002): 331–47. 27. Provasnik Stephen and Linda L. Shafer, Historically Black Colleges and Universities, 1976 to 2001 (NCES 2004–062), National Center for Education Statistics (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, U.S. Department of Education, November 21, 2004). 28. James M. Turner, “African-American Technological Contributions: Past, Present, and Future,” paper presented at Black History Month Colloquium at the Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory, February 20, 2008, National Institute of Standards and Technology, U.S. Department of Commerce. It should be made known that two events fundamentally changed the rates of African American attendance at HBCUs. The first was the GI Bill, which increased by the thousands the number of African American veterans able to attend college, while the second was the Civil Rights Act of 1964 that increased the opportunities of African Americans to select predominantly white institutions. However, it was not until the 1970s that more African Americans began to select PWIs and by 1980 only 20 percent of African American students in higher education were attending HBCUs. Despite these decreased numbers, HBCUs still continue to play a unique role in American higher education. 29. Theda Skocpol, Ariane Liazos, and Marshall Ganz, What a Mighty Power We Can Be: African American Fraternal Groups and the Struggle for Racial Equality (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2006), 130–31. 30. Sharon Monteith, “The Movie-Made Movement: Civil Rites of Passage,” in Memory and Popular Film: Inside Popular Film, ed. Paul Grainge (Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press,2003), 120–43, 124. 31. Ibid., 120–43.


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32. Margaret Thatcher, Women’s Own Magazine, interview, October 31, 1987. 33. J. Huber and W. H. Form, Income and Ideology (New York: Free Press, 1973), and James R. Kluegel and Eliot R. Smith, “Whites’ Beliefs about Blacks’ Opportunity,” American Sociological Review 47 (1982): 518–32. 34. Stephen J. McNamee and Robert K. Miller Jr., The Meritocracy Myth (New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 2004). 35. Ann Swidler, “Culture in Action: Symbols and Strategies,” American Sociological Review 51 (1986): 273–86; William Julius Wilson, When Work Disappears: The World of the New Urban Poor (New York: Knopf, 1996); Lyndelia Burch Wynn, “The Attitude of AFDC Recipients Towards Work,” Sociation Today 1, no. 2 (Fall 2003). 36. Devah Pager and Lincoln Quillian, “Walking the Talk: What Employers Say Versus What They Do,” American Sociological Review 70, no. 3 (2005): 355–80; Devah Pager, “The Mark of a Criminal Record,” American Journal of Sociology 108, no. 5 (2003): 937–75; Devah Pager and Eric Grodsky, “The Structure of Disadvantage: Individual and Occupational Determinants of the Black-White Wage Gap,” American Sociological Review 66, no. 4 (2001): 542–67. 37. Alan D. DeSantis and Marcus Coleman, “Not on My Line: Attitudes about Homosexuality in Black Fraternities,” in Black Greek Letter Organizations in the 21st Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, ed. Gregory S. Parks (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008), 291–312. 38. Rachael Saltz, “Stomping His Way to Brotherhood,” January 12, 2007. New York Times, http://movies.nytimes.com/2007/01/12/movies/12stom.html. 39. Edward P. Morgan, “The Good, the Bad, and the Forgotten: Media Culture and Public Memory of the Civil Rights Movement,” in The Civil Rights Movement in American Memory, ed. Renee C. Romano and Leigh Raiford (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2006), 137–66, 161–62. 40. Portions of this paper were based on the work of Matthew W. Hughey, “Remembering Black Greeks: Racial Memory and Identity in Stomp the Yard,” Critical Sociology (forthcoming 2010).

Chapter Ten Commentary Elizabeth C. Fine

In this provocative piece, Matthew W. Hughey shows us how the film Stomp the Yard misrepresents the complexity of black Greek-letter organizations and stepping. Although the film’s producer, Will Packer, a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, sought to convince the audience that “BGLOs are more than elitist social clubs that ‘step,’ but also serve important social goals, such as advancing civil rights,” Hughey argues that the film perpetuates a mythology of BGLOS that portrays them as little more than innocuous social clubs for students that serve little purpose beyond entertaining others through stepping. Neither BGLOs nor the art and social performances of stepping that developed within them are one dimensional, uncontested, or apolitical. Indeed, an in-depth understanding of both leads to a fuller appreciation of their contributions to American life and African American culture. The first two collegiate-based BGLOs organized in 1906 (Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity) and 1908 (Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority), at the end of a period from 1890 to 1910 in which African Americans formed thousands of mutual aid societies as a bulwark against Jim Crow racism. Henry A. Callis, a founder of Alpha Phi Alpha, said, “Society offered us narrowly circumscribed opportunity and no security. Out of our need, our fraternity brought social purpose and social action.” Yet, critics of BGLOs, such as E. Franklin Frazier, in Black Bourgeoisie, saw BGLOS as fostering “conspicuous consumption” and diverting students “from a serious interest in education.” Scholars such as Martin Kilson, Daniel C. Thompson, Bart Landry, and Lois Benjamin have disputed Frazier’s critique, finding strong evidence of social commitment and action among African American fraternities and sororities. Today’s nine BGLOs have played important roles in the civic and social health of America. Delta Sigma Theta sisters marched side by side with white women in the march for woman suffrage in Washington, D.C., in 1913 and during the 1960s, they contributed funds to bail civil rights organizers out of southern jails. Tom Bradley, of Kappa Alpha Psi, helped shape the federal 210

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Civil Rights Act of 1964, and Alpha Phi Alpha brothers Martin Luther King Jr., Andrew Young, Adam Clayton Powell, and Thurgood Marshall played significant roles in advancing civil rights. All the organizations have numerous local and national initiatives, such as supporting the NAACP, monitoring national legislation, conducting literacy campaigns, registering voters, improving housing and employment opportunities, supporting food and clothing banks, and mentoring youth. Stepping arose as a ritual performance of identity among BGLOS as early as the 1920s, if not before, from roots in African American Masonic performance traditions as well as slave dances, and even deeper roots in African dance traditions carried to the “New World.” Today BGLOS frequently use stepping to raise funds for social causes, foster moral education, leadership, character, and community development. As Hughey so aptly shows us, the image of BGLOs and stepping that emerges in Stomp the Yard reduces the history of BGLOs and practice of stepping to an easily digestible commodity that blunts their rich history of opposition to racism and strong advocacy for progressive social causes.

11. Challenging Controlling Images Appearance Enforcement within Black Sororities Marcia D. Hernandez

Recent studies on black Greek-letter organizations embrace the notion that the groups are vibrant, multifaceted, and too complex to serve simply as comparison groups to their white counterparts.1 The evolution of Greek life scholarship paved the way for research exploring previously unexamined processes occurring within and between the groups. Researchers who focused on BGLO scholarship examine the various ways membership affects individuals’ lives and also analyze BGLOs’ power dynamics, philanthropic efforts, and impact on popular culture.2 Sororities are uniquely situated within African American culture. Members volunteer frequently within their communities, host educational programs and community events, and raise money for scholarships and charities.3 Sororities provide members with peer as well as professional and social support. Despite members’ dedication to service and to one another, nonmembers, or independents, express skepticism about these groups.4 Since their inception, sororities have consistently faced accusations of snobbery, colorism, and encouraging divisions within black communities.5 Allegations of elitism and snobbery partly stem from the high standards and exclusive criteria used to screen potential members. Sororities believe members must be women with leadership potential who can serve as role models, fulfill the sororities’ mission, and in doing so bolster these organizations’ prestigious status.6 Sorority sisters do not want their organizations labeled simply as party groups or as social clubs. Members are keenly aware that sorority membership requires women to at all times serve as representatives of their respective organization. Sorority sisters are conscious that a lapse in judgment of behavior or dress by one member has the potential to confirm suspicions and negative stereotypes of all members and their groups. By adhering to a strict code of conduct and by demanding such high standards of other members to maintain 212


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a group’s image or front, members can actively recruit and promote notably exceptional women.7 I identify this process as “appearance enforcement.” For the applicants who are deemed worthy to join the sisterhood, the process continues as they learn to maintain an acceptable appearance or front to represent the group well. Examining a series of magnified moments provides a framework to understand how appearance enforcement operates at different levels of involvement with black sororities. Arlie Russell Hochschild refers to magnified moments as “episodes of heightened importance, either epiphanies, moments of intense glee or unusual insight, or moments in which things go intensely but meaningfully wrong. In either case, the moment stands out as metaphorically rich, unusually elaborate, and often echoes [later in one’s life as a sorority member].”8 My discussion includes a series of magnified moments that emphasize how appearance enforcement operates, and indeed socializes new members, during the membership intake process’s various stages.9 The analysis highlights that while some aspects of appearance enforcement are visible to nonmembers, the everyday actions of sorority sisters make it difficult for those who are unaware of group norms and values to fully understand this process.

Appearance Enforcement Sororities’ stringent requirements and standards to join serve multiple purposes. First, the membership intake process filters out women who fail to meet the qualifying criteria for membership, such as a high GPA and evidence of community service. Second, the requirements ensure that black sorority members can challenge disparaging racial and gender stereotypes of African American women commonly seen in popular culture. Appearance enforcement is an interactional process practiced at various levels of sorority involvement and in different social contexts. Appearance enforcement’s effects on members compound as it is promoted through official sorority regulations and reinforced by sorority sisters’ informal practices. Sororities socialize women to behave as if their actions, dress, and speech are under constant scrutiny by both members and nonmembers. In this sense, appearance enforcement functions as a behavior modification tool to alter member’s behaviors that may reflect negatively on the group. As discussed later in the chapter, appearance enforcement also functions symbolically to challenge controlling images of black women. By enforcing middle-class standards of dress, speech, and conduct as normative behavior, sorority sisters defy popular culture images of black women. Appearance enforcement is both a literal and symbolic act of cultural and ideological resistance to dominant perceptions of black women in popular culture.10

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Appearance enforcement is observable in nonsorority social settings, as black women feel compelled to combat disparaging images about their morality, physical appearance, and intelligence in most social institutions.11 However, black sororities are one social arena in which this process is visible to both members and outsiders because it is habitually practiced and easily enforced.

Sorority Membership as a Challenge to Controlling Images Appearance enforcement is best understood as a strategy to counteract controlling images of black women. Dominant images of black women are used to manipulate and control them to fit the needs and interests of other groups. Patricia Hill Collins writes, “Race, class and gender oppression could not continue without powerful ideological justifications for their existence . . . Portraying African-American women as stereotypical mammies, matriarchs, welfare recipients, and hot mommas has been essential to the political economy of domination of fostering Black women’s oppression.”12 She argues, “The authority to define these symbols is a major instrument of power . . . as controlling images are designed to make racism, sexism and poverty appear to be natural, normal, and an inevitable part of everyday life.”13 Margaret Hunter’s research on black women echoes Collins’s findings. She argues that dominant perceptions of black women are rooted in the historical context of slavery and served as justification for abuse and discrimination. Hunter writes, The sexual and racial images of African American women as oversexed or whorish is a direct reaction to the cult of white womanhood. Because black women were deliberately dehumanized, they were denied even a basic identity as women . . . They were not seen as pristine, dependent, passive, fragile, or as having any of the traits that defined white womanhood. Black women were de-feminized because they occupied a gendered space for which there was no clear gender identity.14 In the past, stereotypical images of black women shaped public opinion about their intelligence, morality, and sexuality.15 Current popular images continue this historical trend by portraying black women as promiscuous sex objects in music videos and as loud, aggressive, and irrational in reality television shows. St. Jean and Feagin’s research on the black middle class highlights the impact of misperceptions in the media. They contend most roles for blacks in television and movies are limited to characters with athletic prowess, entertainers or criminals who tend to “denigrate and dishonor black women.”16


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Their research provides insight to the aggravation of seeing a “steady drumbeat of negative stories on the news and in other programming as frustrating [for] the middle-class men and women who have achieved a great deal but seldom see themselves accurately portrayed in the media.”17 Moreover, the recent “best black friend” phenomena in movies and television mirrors the mammy stereotype, as black women are portrayed as being wholly invested in their white friends’ lives without demonstrating much concern for their own interests or responsibilities.18 Collectively these images reinforce both the distorted views of black women in popular culture and their relative position of inequality within contemporary American society. While most black women will never appear in a music video, a situation comedy, or on a reality television show, these are the images that define black women’s lives. One way sororities continue to cultivate role models and leaders at local and national levels is by having members who serve as living examples to challenge these negative racial and gender stereotypes. When situated in the context of Collins’s and Hunter’s research, appearance enforcement may be viewed as a strategic response to the social inequalities experienced by black women. Sorority membership insists that black women assert and cultivate an identity that defies the pervasive, negative images of black women. Members promote themselves as women of substance with the leadership and professional skills to uplift their communities. Ironically, however, appearance enforcement creates another system of control for black women. While appearance enforcement intends to counteract negative images of black women, instead it often functions as a “generic process” by which “disparities in power, status . . . or reward are created and reproduced” within a sorority and between members and nonmembers.19 Women denied membership to an organization feel “othered,” as the boundary between members and nonmembers solidifies. As I discuss later in the chapter, the othering process “creates patterns of interaction that reaffirm a dominant group’s ideology of difference.”20

Data and Method I conducted interviews with thirty-one sorority members from 2003 to 2005 (undergraduate n = 10, graduate-only n = 7, and continuous members n = 14). The continuous members described distinctly different experiences than those in the other two groups. Continuous members are defined by the length of their membership as they joined their respective sororities as undergraduates and continued to be financially active members after college.21 I interviewed a broad range of participants to ensure that my findings represented a broad range of experiences such as relative age, length of membership, undergraduate and

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graduate membership. Although this is a seemingly small sample size to obtain a full description of sorority participation, John Lofland and Lyn Lofland assert that most qualitative research is based on approximately thirty to fifty interviews, thus deeming this sample size sufficient to glean substantial conclusions.22 The number of respondents in this study falls within the range of other published studies on sororities whose sample size ranges from twenty-two to forty participants.23 I used snowball sampling to acquire sorority members for interviews.24 The sample only includes members of the National Pan-Hellenic Council.25 I use pseudonyms to protect the interview respondents’ confidentiality.26 I also interviewed women from a variety of geographical regions to better understand the sorority movement’s national impact.27 The open-ended interview format allowed respondents to share information about their experiences in their own words. Information gained from the interviews provides the researcher with insider knowledge, information only known by group members, of appearance enforcement that is not readily available through survey data. The data analyzed in this chapter does not represent every black sorority member’s experience, nor does it reflect uniformity among the chapters’ activities during the membership intake and selection process. Rather, I argue that appearance enforcement’s often-nuanced process is clarified in the “magnified moments” described in select conversations with sorority members. Hochschild contends that analyzing magnified moments allows researchers to “interrogate the moment . . . to ferret out the cultural premises that underlie it.”28 To illustrate how generic processes can both challenge and reproduce social inequality, I analyzed a series of different magnified moments of appearance enforcement at various stages of women’s involvement with black sororities.

Image Is Everything Appearance enforcement serves a gatekeeping function for membership. Although each NPHC organization has guidelines by which candidates apply for membership, sorority members often practice appearance enforcement as part of a covert, backstage process in the candidate selection process. Sorority members shared concern that one member’s questionable behavior could negatively impact the entire group’s image; as discussed in the following example sisters spent time, energy, and other resources to scrutinize the candidate pool prior to the intake process. Members explained that some applicants who may look exceptional on paper are not asked to join the intake process because they do not meet the local chapter’s subjective standards. Although each sorority’s national headquarters endorses the local chapter’s guidelines regulating the intake process, individual


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members ultimately serve as gatekeepers who assess a potential candidate’s membership eligibility. Respondents said that any number of factors could preclude an individual from receiving an invitation to join the group. These factors include having a reputation of being difficult to get along with or dating too many men on campus. Kim, an undergraduate member of Alpha Kappa Alpha, describes this backstage process of filtering members. She explained that at informational meetings “[the sisters] put up a front and that’s only because the organization has its own quote un-quote stereotype and so, not that we pick people according to the stereotype, but there is a certain standard of people that join one organization versus another.”29 When asked what she meant by “a certain type of person” the sisters looked for in the candidate pool, she replied, For instance with my sorority we [do] our own little informal background check . . . [If] we hear certain things about people and more than one person had said something about a person, like for instance if we hear that one particular girl may be sexually promiscuous or whatever. And it’s not necessarily to down her per se but it’s because we don’t want that type of image being attached to our sorority. Because when you join a sorority particularly on a campus as small as ours, with a black population as small as ours if one person is out there acting crazy then everybody knows she’s an AKA. Then it’s not just that one person that’s crazy it’s all the AKA’s are crazy. You see what I’m saying? So with that in mind . . . when we pick people, we want somebody that upholds the image of AKA, and the image of AKA is elegance and classy and you know a lady.30 (Italics added for emphasis.) Sorority members therefore employ appearance enforcement during the candidate selection process due to concern about their chapter’s image. Kim’s comments on potential sorority members reflect key themes regarding appearance enforcement for women pursing membership. Members are mindful of the phenomenon I refer to as “a group of one,” where an individual embodies a set of characteristics that are ascribed to other members by association. Appearance enforcement may shrink the already narrow pool of qualified applicants for black sorority chapters at predominantly white institutions. Because potential members must meet a minimum GPA, community service, and other requirements, chapters often choose new members from a group of relatively few candidates. New sorority members are charged with the responsibilities conferred to all sisters, but additionally must represent black women in a manner that counters any negative perceptions held by white students, faculty, or staff about racial minorities. Black Greek-letter organizations are often the primary campus organizations that coordinate programming, socializing, and networking for black students at PWIs. Members must develop a balance

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between upholding standards and inducting enough new people to continue the chapter. Because Kim’s chapter is at a PWI, she had a significant incentive to remove unqualified candidates from the application pool early. She emphasized that any woman seeking membership must be able to represent AKA well while also serving as a role model for others.31 Applicants struggle to navigate this difficult process. Women who are selected to join a sorority, however, are able to meet the group’s expectations and will continue to enforce the group’s norms for the next round of new members.32 Respondents said that potential candidates must successfully pass a series of magnified moments during the selection period. They understand that the membership intake process is complex in the various ways in which appearance enforcement confers power to group members. Despite the official standards sanctioned by sorority leadership, it is one’s private life, which has little to do with academic performance or leadership skills, that may prevent a candidate from becoming a member. Kim and her sisters’ behavior during the backstage application filtering process can be described as an act of “defensive othering.” Although defensive othering is often “a reaction to an oppressive identity code already imposed by a dominant group . . . When members of subordinate groups seek an advantage by othering those in their own group, the belief system that supports the dominant group’s claim to superiority is reinforced.”33 Acceptance into a sorority is an individual experience; it does not directly or openly challenge the gendered racism and dominant images that maintain all black women’s position of inequality. Rather, sorority initiation has “dual consequences of challenging some inequalities while reproducing others.”34 Sororities provide a “safe space” for members to distance them from controlling images of black women. This process “involves accepting the legitimacy of a devalued identity imposed by the dominant group, but then saying, in effect, ‘There are indeed Others to whom this applies, but it does not apply to me.’”35 Appearance enforcement’s considerable influence is evident both to those seeking membership and to sorority sisters. Appearance enforcement provides members the means to maintain a distinct boundary distinguishes nonmembers, qualified applicants, and sorority sisters. By adhering to unwritten rules sorority members generate “backstage realities, [that] create powerful virtual selves, and implicitly create inferior Others. The impression that elites possess powerful, worthy selves—no matter what the reality—can induce feelings of trust, awe, and/or fear that help to legitimate inequality and deter dissent.”36 Appearance enforcement also allows members to filter women out of the candidacy process without directly explaining or justifying their decision to do so. The process often leaves rejected applicants with little guidance as to how they may have altered the outcome. Women may not be aware that their attire


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or dating habits informed the group’s decision to reject their application; they do, however, receive the message that they were not good enough to join the sisterhood’s selective and elite ranks. Due to members’ private behavior, appearance enforcement operates as a system of control. The ability to admit or reject applicants goes beyond behavior, as membership also has an ideological component of belonging to an elite group. Occasionally during an interview, a respondent revealed that she was initially rejected from her sorority’s candidate pool. I first assumed the conversation would progress into a conversation about sorority sisters’ unfair practice of excluding women based on criteria unbeknown to applicants. However, respondents rarely critiqued the selection process as unreasonable, nor did they mention that group dynamics may have promoted unfair evaluation of their application. There is limited information to create a macro-level critique of the intake process and decisions made by group members, as applicants do not fully realize the extent of appearance enforcement. They instead framed their rejections as an individual failure to live up to the organization’s standards, even if those standards were not transparent or fair. The selection process provides insight into appearance enforcement’s multiple functions within black sororities. Through the ritualized practice of evaluating and investigating applicant’s lives, group members strengthened sisterly bonds with one another. Appearance enforcement provides a reoccurring opportunity to affirm group solidarity through the act of members deciding who is acceptable to join their organization. Only members possess crucial insider knowledge of appearance enforcement’s backstage processes, and this reinforces the group’s social power. Appearance enforcement is a process that condones certain behavior. Sorority sisters’ practice of investigating and dismissing an applicant who engages in questionable behavior is a literal act. Sorority members justify their disregard for, or bending of, official sorority policy in the selection process through their belief that a sorority’s positive image must be preserved and maintained. Appearance enforcement is also symbolic. Even if members are not seen as role models or leaders by others, sorority sisters are supportive of appearance enforcement, which in turn influences their behavior and beliefs. In this vein, Kim’s story epitomizes how a series of “magnified moments [of] daily life offers a window into the social construction of reality” for sorority members.37 Her example demonstrates how “people who share a subordinate status vis-à-vis the dominant group(s) collaborate to create alternative prestige hierarchies and forms of power.”38

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Socialization of New Members Appearance enforcement is an ongoing process evident in social relationships among sorority members and practiced by means of formal and informal sanctions. Once women are inducted into a sorority, appearance enforcement takes on a different, heightened meaning. Respondents expressed relief at successfully completing the membership intake process, but their joy was overshadowed by the sorority’s overwhelming presence and influence in their daily lives. To maintain good standing with other sorority sisters, new members learned to adhere to group physical and behavioral standards. Official sorority policy dictates several rules regulating members’ appearance and behavior in public and at official group events. Respondents said they learned that they could behave in certain ways without condemnation among other sorority sisters or in a closed, private setting. For example, members were not supposed to drink alcohol while wearing sorority paraphernalia, but this policy was often overlooked when sorority sisters engaged in this behavior together. Members maintained a high standard of behavior and most diligently practiced appearance enforcement when publicly representing their organization. New members quickly adjusted their behavior to fit their organization’s norms and expectations. They learned that sisterhood demands always representing themselves and their sorority honorably. Regardless of social context, sorority members are taught to fulfill their role as representatives of their organizations sincerely and convincingly. The respondents referred to this phenomenon as realizing “all eyes are on you all of the time.” While this concept may seem extreme, their concerns reflect a common and eventual reality for many women—that individual identity often becomes subsumed to membership in a Greek-letter organization. Participants frequently discussed their realization that the sorority’s name could literally replace their own after joining. This magnified moment was both pivotal and common for respondents, regardless of their geographical location or the time they joined. The substitution of one’s name with that of the sorority even occurred where there were few other black students or others who shared one’s first name. For example, Lashanda, a midwestern resident, and Kelly, who lived in a western state, both said their campuses had only a handful of African American female students. After joining their respective groups, their sisters and nonsorority members immediately referred to them as “SGRho Kelly” or “Delta Lashanda.”39 Their name changes signaled a similar identity shift, an important step in their development as sorority members. My respondents felt they lost some power to define themselves as individuals separate from their group identity.


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In the early stages of membership, appearance enforcement not only operates as a self-monitoring tool, but as part of the bonding process for members. As explained by Kim earlier in the chapter, if one person behaves inappropriately, everyone in the group will be guilty by association, and no one wants one of their sisters to be known for “crazy” behavior. Sorority members who fail to meet group expectations by acting and looking the part of role models may be reprimanded. Respondents believed that they were judged as role models, and sought to behave as such to avoid sanctions by their sisters and nonmembers.40 Imani, a graduate member of Delta Sigma Theta, said sorority sisters stressed that new members should always represent the group well. She explained, Because it’s like once you are a member of the organization . . . [You] should represent the organization at a certain level you know because we don’t want to be stereotyped as just a party organization. We are suppose to be seen as women of high caliber and intelligence and work sense so that when people see you out in public you are suppose to act a certain way. Interviewer: Can you elaborate on this?

So you should not be out at the club with beers in your hand shaking your butt with the letters across your chest. If you want to do that, that’s cool but at least don’t let people know you are a part of the organization [laughing] do it as yourself—not as a member of the group. And you know don’t be breaking into people houses or getting into fights with letters on, [laughing] you know just don’t do it.41 Imani was among the minority of respondents who found humor in the various ways to oppose her sorority’s code of conduct. Other sorority members were more seriously concerned about women maintaining appearances, even when they did not belong to the same group. One respondent said, “I’m careful in what I wear my letters with, how I look in public when I have my letters on, and even to a certain extent just how I look in public period.”42 She explained that before joining, “I’d go a whole week without doing anything special to my hair and it wouldn’t matter. I don’t do that now, so [membership] kind of controls to a certain extent how I present myself in public.”43 Respondents commonly discussed altering their everyday presentation, as members worked very hard to ensure their behavior did not bring shame to their sorority. Not all respondents realized that sorority membership would result in their appearance being contested terrain between personal preference in behavior and dress and satisfying group norms. For instance, Rashida’s naïveté regarding

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appearance enforcement provides a telling example of a magnified moment in her early membership experience. She stated, You know I’ll make sure that my hair is always combed or if it’s not combed, in a really nice wrap or make sure to put lipstick on if I go out. I still dress kind of the same but not over the top, I never went over the top but I’m more conscious. I’m more aware of what not to wear . . . I don’t want people to be like “Oh, she’s a Sigma Gamma Rho wearing that!” (Italics added for emphasis.) Interviewer: What would be something you should not wear?

When I first came out, they [my sisters] had a big party for me. I had on bubble gum jeans. They were really skin-tight, and they were blue and then I had like, I want to say a bustier kind of shirt . . . [I thought] it was cute. When I came in [the room] everybody was like “Ahhhh.” I was like, “You don’t like it?” They said, “No, it’s very nice,” but I could tell it was inappropriate so I don’t wear it anymore. I still have [the top] . . . I still love bustiers, but I don’t wear it, you know stuff like that any more. Interviewer: So what is appropriate to wear?

Like a nice pants and a regular shirt . . . I don’t know now it sounds like I can’t wear anything but its nothing. I don’t know how to explain it, [but] you just can’t, I can’t wear [those other clothes].44 This experience taught Rashida about appropriate sorority attire. Although some members did not fully realize the extent of appearance enforcement until after their induction, other respondents reported heeding sisters’ advice prior to crossing over as members. Some recalled that members explicitly articulated the sorority’s expectations to their pledge line during the membership intake process. Perhaps more important, they learned which types of behavior would incur punishments and sanctions if they stepped out of bounds.

Appearance Enforcement by Nonmembers Respondents also expressed concern that nonmembers participate in appearance enforcement by criticizing sorority members. Most independents are unaware of sorority members’ dedication to community service, philanthropic efforts, and their support of health, education, and cultural initiatives. Consequently, independents may not know that sorority sisters spend every


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weekend volunteering at a local homeless shelter or tutoring children throughout the week; they do, however, understand the symbolic ramifications for all black women if members walk around campus looking disheveled. The one feature all women are noticed for is their appearance.45 In this sense, appearance enforcement operates at a symbolic level for nonmembers and members alike, as sorority sisters learn to present themselves well as role models and representatives of a racial minority group. As discussed in the following case, nonmembers can and do hold sorority members accountable for not maintaining an acceptable level of appearance. For example, Jade shared a magnified moment when she realized that others on campus were more interested in how her sorority sisters looked than the service work they dedicated their time to. She shared that a friend of hers who did not belong to a sorority commented on the latest inductees’ physical appearances. Due to the intake process’s rigor and length, the new members had failed to continually and regularly get their hair done, wear make-up, and dress to impress. Her friend suggested a gift basket with various beauty care products such as lotion, hair combs, flat irons, and lip gloss as an appropriate present for the new members.46 Jade said her friend enjoyed repeating this criticism as a running joke anytime she saw one of the new sorority members around campus. This ongoing commentary was eye-opening for Jade; she immediately understood such criticism’s power. Even though the women accomplished something few others would achieve by becoming sorority members, others reproached them for failing to meet a standard of physical appearance. Sorority members and nonmembers employ appearance enforcement to sanction new sorority sisters. Michael Schwalbe and colleagues reason that “the power to hold others accountable in one setting depends upon relationships— that is, a larger net of accountability—that is with actors outside the setting.”47 For nonmembers, appearance enforcement provides an opportunity to level the social power of sorority sisters. The ability of nonmembers to partake in appearance enforcement is in part due to the belief that sororities should hold their members accountable to meet the high standards set forth by groups. Candace West and Sarah Fenstermaker argue that accountability implies more than individual choice and motivation; rather, it is “a feature of social relationships and its idiom is drawn from the institutional arena in which those relationships are enacted.”48 Sorority members must contend with criticisms commonly made about Greek life, such as, “they are buying their friends” or “that the groups are only social organizations.”49 Black sorority members face additional challenges within collegiate social arenas, as membership carries a race, gender, and class component that is often overlooked in studies of white Greek organizations. For many black students, joining a BGLO signifies upward social mobility. Women often seek membership specifically for the group’s exclusivity.50

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Because joining and maintaining membership in a sorority is often expensive, economic issues may actually be the most effective filter of applicants.51 Daniel C. Thompson notes that students from affluent backgrounds “often join Greek letter organizations primarily because of a family tradition or a felt need to reinforce their own middle-class status.”52 Furthermore, black Greek organizations provide students from humble socioeconomic backgrounds with “an excellent opportunity to associate as equals with fellow students from much more affluent backgrounds . . . [they] can also vicariously identify with black middle-class by becoming ‘brothers’ or ‘sisters’ to successful, even renowned members . . . who serve as role models and lend legitimacy to their middleclassness.”53 Appearance enforcement by sorority members heightens class divisions within black communities by selecting women who meet the groups’ middle-class standards, and socializing new members to meet group expectations. When independents engage in appearance enforcement, it levels the playing field among black women across different social statuses. One of BGLOs’ expressed goals is that members will serve as role models for others; their members must behave as if “all eyes are on them all of the time.” Respondents cited feeling continually judged by their sisters as well as by outsiders. They also understood, however, that by joining a sorority they assumed a responsibility to act as leaders, even if their community was unknowledgeable about group dynamics or misunderstood its mission. The comment made by Jade’s friend about purchasing beauty care products as a crossing gift suggests that the new sorority members were not maintaining their appearances according to the role-model image of BGLOs. The fact that Jade’s friend deemed the sorority member’s appearance deficient to the point that it was not only embarrassing for the sorority but also for other black women on the campus speaks to the power of controlling images. Consequently, appearance enforcement mediates social interactions between sorority sisters, hopeful applicants, and independents.

Discussion My research highlights how appearance enforcement is a process that occurs through social interactions in a series of magnified moments. Appearance enforcement influences the candidate selection process, as sisters judge applicants based on a variety of unofficial criteria. As new members, sorority sisters learn that they represent their sorority by becoming the physical embodiment of the group through the loss of individual identity. Members are responsible for positively representing their sorority at all times. The practice of appearance enforcement by members and nonmembers stems from the daily experience of gendered racism in black women’s daily


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lives. Researchers argue that as a group, African American women are misrecognized and marginalized in society.54 Appearance enforcement reflects sorority members’ commitment to challenging dominant perceptions of black women in popular culture. Respondents believed that women who dressed in an overtly provocative way (such as in Rashida’s bustier example), they risked misrepresenting all sorority members and reinforcing a stereotype of black women as oversexed. One woman’s transgression may be interpreted as typical behavior for all black women. As Kim states in her interview, no one wants her behavior, or that of her sisters, to reinforce pervasive popular images of African American women as unprofessional, sexually promiscuous, or immoral. Appearance enforcement serves multiple purposes within black sororities. First, standards of appearance and behavior are used as a measuring stick by which members judge potential new sisters. Second, peers and independents support the belief that sisters should always act and dress as role models through appearance enforcement. Third, by engaging in appearance enforcement, sorority members judge one another within the Greek community. Imani’s example illustrates unacceptable behavior while wearing sorority paraphernalia (i.e., getting drunk or breaking into people’s homes). She remarked, “If you want to do that, that’s cool but at least don’t let people know she was a part of the organization—do it as yourself—not as a member of the group.” No respondents argued this behavior is appropriate regardless of group membership; however, a sorority sister should never engage in questionable types of activities. According to this study’s respondents, sorority members who do not actively follow the rules of appearance enforcement are failed members. They fail the organization by not meeting its high standards of conduct and they fail themselves. Appearance enforcement also reinforces boundaries between members and independents. Members differentiate themselves from independents by claiming that they have distinct qualities and characteristics that few others in their communities possess. Ironically, sorority sisters’ act of challenging controlling images through appearance enforcement reinforces structural forms of gendered racism. As sorority members utilize appearance enforcement to filter candidates who do not meet the group’s standards at a micro-level, the negative stereotypes of black women remain unchallenged at the macro-level. While sorority sisters maintain members in their organization do not fit the degrading images of black women commonly found in popular culture, the practice of appearance enforcement sustains that these stereotypes may apply to others who were not worthy of group membership. Scholars studying Greek life should explore appearance enforcement more closely to better understand the various aspects of membership in a BGLO. Future studies may investigate how appearance enforcement evolves over time. For example, it would be interesting to explore whether women who are decades

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into their membership hold similar views regarding appearance enforcement as newer members of an organization. This chapter focused on appearance enforcement within sororities. A similar process may also take place within fraternities. While the racial and class dynamics of membership may be similar to their female counterparts, the gendered nature of appearance enforcement for members of historically black fraternities deserves to be an object of serious scholarly inquiry. Scholarly evidence suggests that black sororities offer valuable life experiences and opportunities such as training leaders and fostering role models within black communities.55 Further research is needed to understand the institutional relationships universities and colleges have with BGLOs as the organizations provide services to racial minority students that are not met elsewhere on campus. Appearance enforcement’s crucial role in how BGLOs and their membership are received in higher education would add an important dimension to research investigating institutional relationships between sororities and colleges. Notes 1. See Paula Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood: Delta Sigma Theta and the Challenge of the Black Sorority Movement (New York: William Morrow, 1988); Walter M. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101: The Culture, Customs, and Challenges of Black Fraternities and Sororities (Cranbury, N.J.: Rosemont, 2003); Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips, eds., African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005). 2. See Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood; Jacqui Malone, Steppin’ on the Blues: The Visible Rhythms of African American Dance (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1996); Deborah Elizabeth Whaley, “The Empty Space of American Sorority Representation: Spike Lee’s School Daze,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities, ed. Brown, Parks, and Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005), 417–36; Clarenda M. Phillips, “Sisterly Bonds: African American Sororities Rising to Overcome Obstacles,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities, ed. Brown, Parks and Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005), 341–59; Ricky L. Jones, Black Haze: Violence, Sacrifice, and Manhood in Black Greek-Letter Fraternities (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2004). 3. See Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood; Marybeth Gasman, Patricia Louison, and Mark Barnes, “Giving and Getting: Philanthropic Activity among Black Greek-Letter Organizations,” in Black Greek-Letter Organizations in the 21st Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, ed. Gregory S. Parks Jr. (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008), 187–212. 4. Nonmembers are often referred to as “independents” in Greek life literature. For a glossary of terms used in Greek life research, see Roger Winston Jr., William R. Nettles III, and John Opper Jr., Fraternities and Sororities on the Contemporary College Campus


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(San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987); Hank Numer, Wrongs of Passage: Fraternities, Sororities, Hazing, and Binge Drinking (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999). 5. Colorism refers to the privileges received by racial minorities with lighter skin tone, and discrimination against those with darker skin. For further discussion on colorism, see Evelyn Nakano Glenn, “Yearning for Lightness: Transnational Circuits in the Marketing and Consumption of Skin Lighteners,” Gender & Society 22, no. 13 (June 2008): 281–302; Midge Wilson and Ronald Hall, The Color Complex: The Politics of Skin Color Among African Americans (New York: Anchor Books, 1992); Margaret Hunter, Race, Gender, and the Politics of Skin Tone (New York: Routledge, 2005). 6. See Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood, 19–22. 7. I refer to a group’s image as its “front,” using the concept as defined by Erving Goffman, The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life (Garden City, N.Y.: Anchor Books, 1973), 22. 8. Arlie Russell Hochschild, The Commercialization of Intimate Life: Notes from Home and Work (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2003), 16. 9. See “The Membership Intake Movement,” in Walter Kimbrough’s, Black Greek 101, 61–90. 10. Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment (New York: Routledge, 1991); Yanick St. Jean and Joe R. Feagin, Double Burden: Black Women and Everyday Racism (Armonk, N.Y.: M. E. Sharpe, 1997); Charisse Jones and Kumea Shorter-Gooden, Shifting: The Double Lives of Black Women in America (New York: HarperCollins, 2004), 137. 11. See Lois Benjamin, The Black Elite: Facing the Color Line in the Twilight of the Twentieth Century (Chicago: Nelson-Hall Publishers, 1991); St. Jean and Feagin, Double Burden. 12. Collins, Black Feminist Thought, 67–68. 13. Ibid. 14. Margaret L. Hunter, Race, Gender, and the Politics of Skin Tone (New York: Routledge, 2005), 31. 15. Candice M. Jenkins, Private Lives, Proper Relations: Regulating Black Intimacy (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2007), 12–16. 16. St. Jean and Feagin, Double Burden, 108. 17. Ibid. 18. For further discussion, see Rana A. Emerson, “Where My Girls At?: Negotiating Black Womanhood in Music Videos,” Gender & Society 16, no. 1 (February 2002): 115–35; Greg Braxton, “Buddy System,” Los Angeles Times, August 2007, http://articles.latimes. com/2007/aug/29/entertainment/et-bff29-2 (accessed July 9, 2008). Teresa Wiltz, “The Evil Sista of Reality Television: Shows Trot Out Old Stereotypes,” Washington Post, February 25, 2004, http:www.msn.com/id/4365789 (accessed July 9, 2008). 19. Michael Schwalbe, Sandra Godwin, Daphne Holden, Douglas Schrock, Shealy Thompson, and Michele Wolkomir, “Generic Processes in the Reproduction of Inequality: An Interactionst Analysis,” Social Forces 79, no. 2 (2000): 420–21. 20. Ibid. 21. For a discussion of the different experiences of graduate-only and continuous members, see Marcia Hernandez, “Sisterhood beyond the Ivory Tower: An Exploration of Black Sorority Membership,” in Black Greek-Letter Organizations in the 21st Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, ed. Gregory S. Parks Jr. (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2008), 253–72.

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22. John Lofland and Lyn Lofland, Analyzing Social Settings: A Guide to Qualitative Observation and Analysis (Belmont, Calif.: Wadsworth Publishing Company, 1984). 23. Barbara Risman, “College Women and Sororities: The Social Construction and Reaffirmation of Gender Roles,” Urban Life 11 (1982): 231–52; Lisa Handler, “In Fraternal Sisterhood: Sororities as Gender Strategy,” Gender & Society 9, no. 2 (1995): 236–55; Alexandria Berkowitz and Irene Padavic, “Getting a Man or Getting Ahead: A Comparison of White and Black Sororities,” Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 27 (1999): 530–57. 24. Snowball sampling is defined as “a type of nonrandom sample in which the researcher begins with one case, then, based on information about interrelationships from the case, identifies other cases and then repeats the process again and again” by W. Lawrence Neuman, Social Science Research Methods: Qualitative and Quantitative Approaches, 5th ed. (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 2003), 545. 25. This research focused on sororities in the National Pan-Hellenic Council because these organizations have a standard set of guidelines for membership with many shared qualities. The high degree of uniformity between the groups is a valuable trait for empirical investigations of black Greek life. 26. To protect respondents’ anonymity, the Institutional Review Board at the University of Albany, SUNY, required the use of pseudonyms for my research. Therefore the citations for the interviews contain a minimal amount of information in the endnotes. 27. Due to snowball sampling’s inherent limitations, sorority members from the southern region of the United States were underrepresented in my sample. 28. Arlie Russell Hochschild, The Commercialization of Intimate Life: Notes from Home and Work (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2003), 16. 29. Interview with Kim, October 24, 2003. 30. Ibid. 31. The expectation that members should be leaders and serve as role models either on campus or in the local community is also a feature of African American fraternities. For example, see Lawrence C. Ross Jr., The Divine Nine: The History of African American Fraternities and Sororities (New York: Kensington Publishing Corporation, 2000); Kimbrough, Black Greek 101; Stephanie McClure, “Voluntary Association Membership: Black Greek Men on a Predominantly White Campus,” Journal of Higher Education 77 (2006): 1036–57. 32. See Diana Kendall, The Power of Good Deeds: Privileged Women and the Social Reproduction of the Upper Class (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, 2002); Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood 33. Schwalbe et al., “Generic Processes in the Reproduction of Inequality.” 34. Ibid., 426. 35. Ibid., 425. 36. Ibid., 424. 37. Michael Messner, “Barbie Girls versus Sea Monsters: Children Constructing Gender,” Gender & Society 14 no. 6 (2000): 765–84, 766. 38. Schwalbe et al., “Generic Processes in the Reproduction of Inequality,” 427. 39. Interview with Kelly, August 15, 2003; Interview with Lashanda, November 8, 2004. 40. Research on white sororities indicates that members in those groups are also subject to extreme scrutiny of their behavior and dress. For further discussion, see Esther


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Wright, Torn Togas: The Dark Side of Greek Life (Minneapolis, Minn.: Fairview Press, 1996); Alexandra Robbins, Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities (New York: Hyperion Books, 2004); Alan D. DeSantis, Inside Greek U: Fraternities, Sororities, and the Pursuit of Pleasure, Power, and Prestige (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2007). 41. Interview with Imani, August 20, 2003. 42. Interview with Kim, October 24, 2003. 43. Ibid. 44. Interview with Rashida, September 17, 2003. 45. Research studies have explored the rigid standards of physical attractiveness and beauty applied to women, but not men, as impacting their life opportunities and experiences. For further discussion, see Naomi Wolf, The Beauty Myth: How Images of Beauty Are Used Against Women (Garden City, N.Y.: Anchor Books, 1992). 46. Interview with Jade, April 12, 2005. 47. Schwalbe et al., “Generic Processes in the Reproduction of Inequality,” 442. 48. Candace West and Sarah Fenstermaker, “Doing Difference,” Gender and Society 9, no. 1 (1995): 8–37, 24. 49. In Greek life scholarship accusations of sorority membership as a way to “buy friends” or simply join a social organization are most often directed at white organizations. See Robbins, Pledged, and Wright, Torn Togas, for detailed discussion on membership in white sororities. However, Paula Giddings research indicates that these stereotypes may apply to BGLOs as well. See Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood, 144. 50. Women in predominantly white sororities also commonly seek membership in a specific sorority because the chapter or organization is the most prestigious or exclusive on campus. For more information on white sorority rankings, refer to Wright, Torn Togas; Robbins, Pledged); DeSantis, Inside Greek U. 51. Phillips, “Sisterly Bonds,” 351. 52. Daniel C. Thompson, A Black Elite: A Profile of Graduates of UNFC Colleges (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1986), 110. 53. Ibid. 54. See, for example, Collins, Black Feminist Thought; St. Jean and Feagin, Double Burden; Jones and Shorter-Gooden, Shifting. 55. For a detailed discussion of the history of community involvement and leadership training in BGLOs, see Lawrence O. Graham, Our Kind of People: Inside America’s Black Upper Class, (New York: HarperCollins, 1999); Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood; Kimbrough, Black Greek 101.

Chapter Eleven Commentary Cynthia Lynne Shelton

Marcia Hernandez presents an informative and much-needed critique of normative behavior as manifest in African American sororities. Her examination of the process and practice of “appearance enforcement” to challenge “controlling images” of black womanhood speaks to the larger issue of stereotypes that have historically stigmatized black women. Like many, Hernandez asserts that the association is a viable vehicle for black women to challenge counterfeit representation. The historiography of black women’s organizing is replete with the notion that acceptance of late-Victorian notions of demeanor, speech, and dress would confer “respectability.” Indeed, many assert that Josephine St. Pierre Ruffin’s “call” created the strategic essentialism of the black woman’s club movement that was in reaction to a publicized account which asserted “all [black women] were liars, prostitutes and thieves.” Subsequently, elite black woman organized not only for racial uplift but also to “give a dignified showing” of their womanhood. Within the “politics of respectability” this strategy often acerbates class stratification and creates an “insider/outsider dichotomy.” Elites become selfappointed arbiters of acceptable ideals and mores. Hernandez accurately notes that this dichotomy or “defensive othering” is fundamental to the exclusivity inherent in sisterhood organization. Her work calls attention to the need for future research. The question then becomes: have years of self-inculcation into “middle class” demeanor by hundreds of thousands of sorority women transformed the negative imagery? Has “appearance enforcement” made a difference in the collective representation of black women? In 2008, the world experienced what Hernandez defines as a “magnified moment” and embraced a black woman as first lady of the United States. In short order, the media transformed Michelle Obama from an “angry black women” to, as recently celebrated in Time, the “new American icon.” An honorary member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Michelle Obama has achieved 230

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iconic stature because of her professional and polished deportment, as well as a carefully managed public persona that emphasizes domesticity and motherhood. As Hernandez reminds us, these attributes are not historically attributed to black women. Granted, admiration of the president and the first lady will influence “appearance enforcement.” Obama is actively challenging “controlling images” by projecting an image that conveys conventionality, and asserting that she is merely one of millions of such black women worldwide. However, will the global affirmation of America’s first lady make a difference in how black women, in general, are perceived? Millions of black people hope so. Hernandez’s contribution to the historiography of sorority women presents valid and insightful evidence that associative activity is a valid mechanism for noncelebrity black women to challenge negative representation. The sorority influences the individual’s exercise and acceptance of behavior designed to counter derogatory imagery attributed to a group’s identity. Her research clearly reveals that the act of organizing successfully indoctrinates members with a collective responsibility to challenge “controlling images.”


Part VI

Keeping Things In/On Line? Hazing and Pledging


12. Factors That Contribute to Hazing Practices by Collegiate Black Greek-Letter Fraternities during Membership Intake Activities Dwayne J. Scott

Acts of violence among black Greek-letter fraternities during their respective membership intake activities have made for great concern among fraternity national officers and higher education administrators. For example, in a 1990 report by the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, university presidents and chief student affairs officers listed Greek life as one of the top-five campus issues of greatest distress and disquietude.1 According to Pamela Reese, hazing in BGLFs has been a primary concern for national governing bodies and university officials for quite some time despite the fact that fraternity and university officials banned hazing decades ago.2 Hazing is denoted as any action taken or created that involves or results in abusive, physical contact or mutual harassment of a prospective fraternity member and/or any action that results in excessive mutual or physical discomfort, embarrassment, or harassment.3 Such actions include but are not limited to paddling, causing excessive fatigue, physical or psychological shock, morally degrading or humiliating activities, late work sessions that interfere with scholastic activities and any other activities inconsistent with fraternal laws, fraternal regulations, policies of the affiliated educational institution, or federal, state, or local law.4 Despite the overwhelming negative publicity BGLFs have received regarding abusive acts of hazing, prospective members choose to participate in a process that continually subjects them to these unsanctioned rituals during membership intake activities.5 Perhaps the 1990, landmark decision by black Greek-letter organizations to end pledge programs as a prerequisite for membership may contribute to hazing’s persistent and pervasive practice within BGLFs.6 Pledge programs were 235

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originally created for prospective members to learn more about an organization’s history and traditions and to promote unity and camaraderie within the pledge group. BGLFs now typically perceive hazing as a replacement for the now-defunct pledge process. Fraternity members often suggest that hazing is necessary to facilitate leadership development within black communities.7 Such a mindset contributes to the common sentiment shared by both higher education administrators and organizational leaders—that hazing within BGLFs continues to be a seemingly unsolvable dilemma. Prior research on hazing focused on chapter members who imposed hazing as a prerequisite for membership into a BGLF. As a result, researchers struggle to identify why prospective members seem to knowingly and willingly participate in fraternity hazing rituals during the membership intake process. Potential members rarely express fear that hazing will harm them. This study therefore aims to further investigate factors contributing to hazing among BGLFs and reveals subtle differences between pledging and hazing, how tradition and acceptance of abusive acts enhanced bonding and respect among participants, as well as how intrinsic values through the practice of hazing were developed during membership intake.

Methodology For this study I employed a qualitative methodological approach. Qualitative methodological approaches are multifaceted and typically involve interpreting and analyzing participants in their natural setting, which allows the researcher to depict the description and meaning of the phenomena that was experienced.8 This approach enables the researcher to inductively discover or unveil information that is customarily unavailable and/or unattainable with quantitative or deductive methodological approaches. Ultimately, “a researcher relies on his or her intuition, imagination, and universal structures in an effort to develop a picture of experiences, as detailed by participants in the study.”9 Specifically, this study employed a phenomenological methodological approach. Phenomenology is the study of the world as it appears to individuals who consciously endeavor to be free of everyday biases and beliefs.10 Researchers can therefore describe the essential factors that contribute to hazing among BGLFs. Phenomenological methodology procedures ensure that hazing is appropriately depicted by describing the experiences of the participants of the study. The phenomenological approach enables the researcher to more clearly understand and describe hazing’s significance according to the study’s participants. Ultimately, the phenomena of hazing, as experienced by participants was conducted through the following methodological procedures:

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Horizontalization of participant statements Development of meaning statements and themes of meaning statements A description of how participants experienced hazing (Structural Description) A description of what participants experienced (Textural Description) An exhaustive description of the phenomena

This study included twenty participants in total, representing Alpha Phi Alpha (n = 5), Kappa Alpha Psi (n = 5), Phi Beta Sigma (n = 5), Omega Psi Phi (n = 3), and Iota Phi Theta (n = 2). Participants joined their respective fraternal organizations between 1998 and 2004. Three of the twenty participants were alumni members solicited by the researcher. The researcher interviewed participants between June and September 2005. The study’s participants attended colleges and universities in two southern states and met the following criteria: Collegiate Members • Currently enrolled in a college or university • A member of a collegiate chapter • Enrolled in a college or university in the southern geographical area identi fied for the study Alumni members • A member of a BGLF (each joined the fraternity subsequent to graduation) • Initiated into an NPHC fraternity post 1990 • Initiated in the southern geographical area identified for the study

Pledging versus Hazing Hazing is not a new phenomenon within Greek-letter fraternities. According to Douglas Richmond, fraternity hazing has been common practice for over one hundred years.11 In fact, college and university administrators often describe hazing as common among a significant number of fraternities across the nation. For instance, according to Jay Schleifer, more than 200,000 college students are hazed each year.12 Fraternity and sorority hazing’s pervasive practice has caused at least one college student death every year since 1970.13 This study’s participants described hazing and pledging as similar activities with different purposes. For example, Darryl Matthews, the former interim executive director for Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, who pledged in 1971, stated, “building a better man was the thinking behind the pledge process.”14 Participants therefore described pledging as an educational process situated

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in a structured environment during membership intake. The pledge process denotes a specific time period that provided prospective members with the opportunity to indicate their commitment to the organization. Moreover, the pledge process aimed to eliminate a pledge’s sense of individuality and to encourage unanimity among participants in a nonviolent manner.15 During the pledge process, prospective members learned about fraternity, their respective role as both a pledge and later as a member, and how to perform tasks related to the organization. Another study conducted pertaining to nonfraternity member attitudes of BGLFs indicates that African American students view pledging more favorably and more likely encourage conforming to the pledge process’s rules.16 Conversely, participants described hazing as enforcing behavior prospective members generally consented to unwillingly. Hazing did not directly or meaningfully relate to the fraternity. “David,”17 for example, explained when discussing the difference between pledging and hazing: “To me, pledging is more of an educational process, to instill a sense of pride in yourself and in the organization, along with general knowledge in your organization and your role in it, and hazing is any type of physical or mental abuse that is meant to inflict some type of pain or retribution without any clear intent or purpose.” Although described as distinctly separate processes, participants viewed hazing and pledging as closely related mechanisms experienced by potential members. Both members and prospective members regarded hazing as an appropriate practice during membership intake. For example, brothers hazed prospective members who failed to correctly execute assignments and/or recite historical information that members viewed as important to the organization. As Theodore, an initiated member, expressed: “I will pull out the wood and swing a few when people are getting out of hand, mainly messing up, missing questions, not knowing their history, not being where they are supposed to be, kind of not being accountable for their actions.” Although participants separately defined hazing and pledging as different processes, they uniformly described hazing as an integral part of pledging. Consequently, the continued practice of hazing during the membership intake process strongly indicates that members feel that without pledging and/or hazing experiences, their organizations viability will decline.18

Tradition/Pressure Participants justify hazing based on their respective local organizations’ traditions, and often inflicted hazing acts they experienced during their respective membership intake processes. Moreover, participants believe hazing confers benefits to the fraternity as well as to prospective members, who become more

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productive in response to adverse stimuli, as described by Terrence: “If one person messes up, then they all mess up. It’s just a form of punishment to show you how to be more consistent and take pride and be very nitpicky and trying to get people establish the way they do things.” Participants frequently employed hazing to test how much a prospective member was willing to endure in order to gain membership. Participants utilized hazing to weed out individuals interested in their organization for purely superficial reasons, such as attention and popularity, and to discourage prospective candidates who chapter members perceived as more feminine than masculine. Both individuals who hazed others as well as those who experienced hazing expressed that such acts preserved the organization’s practices and values. George, for example, reflected that he hazed prospective members “to keep tradition. It was done to me, not to mention there are certain things that you have to instill into members that are coming into your organization.” According to participants, specific hazing acts are germane to particular chapters and are part of decade-long traditions. Therefore, chapter members expect all prospective members to submit to, and actively participate in, certain hazing traditions. Based on participants’ responses, hazing encouraged individuals going through the membership intake process to learn the organization’s fraternal history. Participants reported they interpreted conflicting positions from alumni on hazing as pressure to continue the tradition. Specifically, alumni publicly denounce hazing, but often reverse their position in social settings. James reflects, “They are very wishy-washy, depending on what setting you catch them in. If you catch them in a bar and it’s just you and them talking, they are all for it, but if you catch them at a meeting and all of them are there; then they are 100 percent against it.” An anonymous BGLF elaborates on this assertion in an article about alumni members’ feelings toward members who fail to go through a pledge process: “Although the old men make the fraternity hopefuls sign papers saying they won’t pledge, and make my brothers and me sign papers saying we won’t conduct pledging activities, those old men do not respect anyone who doesn’t pledge. So they wink at us as we go underground.”19 Alumni members’ rationale for supporting hazing included its historical value and the significance of upholding the organization’s traditions. Alumni members often openly expressed their feelings about hazing through storytelling; they frequently referred to the new process as unacceptable because collegiate members did not have the same or similar experience(s) as they did. Generally, alumni criticized the current process because it does not provide meaningful interaction among all involved in the membership intake process. Also, alumni viewed the current membership intake process as too brief and therefore inadequate. Participants frequently commented that alumni pridefully told stories about the hazing they endured. As a result, fraternities continue to haze to earn acceptance and

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respect. Benson expressed his concern with alumni members about their statements’ influence on collegiate fraternity members. To me when it comes to the graduate chapter, the older members are the key to all the hazing and everything because older members look down on some of the younger members. You just came off, well you young, you didn’t go through nothing. And when you hear older members saying that, what kind of image does that put in your head? That’s not saying lets stop hazing, that’s saying let’s do it more, so the younger members can get just as much respect as the older members. To me it starts up top with the older members with the old school brother for it to ever stop. As long as they continue to do that, then you’re going to have hazing going on. Hazing has historically been considered a great undertaking that demands mental and physical fortitude. Therefore, negative comments by alumni members that referred to membership intake as being an inadequate process reinforced the phenomena of hazing among collegiate members.

Acceptance/Willingness BGLFs publicly assert their stance that hazing is not part of their membership intake processes by training members and prospective members. Trainings typically outline the intake process and the fraternity’s position on hazing. BGLFs even developed contractual agreements that both members and prospective members must sign prior to participating in membership intake activities. Generally, the contract outlines prohibitive conduct for both members and prospective members during intake activities. Prospective member contracts indicate that they will not hold the organization liable in the event that they engage in unsanctioned activities or suffer mental or physical discomfort and/or injury. Anti-hazing contracts include clauses that state a prospective members’ admission into the organization will be permanently terminated if he engages in activity identified in the contract. For members, contracts outline in detail the fraternity’s position on hazing and members’ responsibilities during intake activities. The contract also includes a warning that if current members haze, their organizational membership will be permanently revoked. Despite BGLF national officials’ efforts to inform and train organizational and prospective members on the dangers of engaging in hazing activities, study participants desired and/or willingly participated in behaviors that their respective organizations deemed illegal. Marcus described prospective members’ willingness to participate in hazing activities: “No one can make you be hazed, it’s impossible. If you don’t want to be hazed, you can say stop, that’s enough, and


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walk away.” Marcus’s statement reflects the perception that participants who endured hazing knew the organization’s position on hazing and still willingly chose to participate in such activities. Interestingly, in most cases, prospective members did not harbor any negative feelings toward the members who hazed them; rather, participants felt that they must endure hazing to gain membership to their respective fraternities. In fact, many of the participants reported that they are now good friends with those who hazed them. As Melvin stated in regard to chapter members who hazed him, “I talk to them almost every day. They are great friends of mine. Actually, I know that they weren’t doing anything out of spite or malice because they’re great friends of mine. I love them like brothers.” Participants condoned hazing activities so strongly that they willingly submitted to behaviors that potentially subjected them to bodily harm, criminal arrests, suspension from college, and expulsion from their fraternal organizations. Chester spoke on behalf of prospective members when he explained his reasoning for hazing despite his actions’ potential consequences: “Sometimes things are just necessary. Sometimes you have to speed to get to work when you are late, even though you know it’s against the law. Some things are just worth the risk.” Additionally, according to Walter E. Kimbrough and E. Michael Sutton, fraternities exercise more peer influence than nonfraternal organizations. Therefore, prospective members are more likely to give into peer pressure and submit to hazing rituals to gain acceptance.20

Bonding The experience shared between members and prospective members was a key factor of hazing during membership intake activities. During the admission process, chapter members encouraged prospective members to engage all activities and/or requirement in unison. Hazing activities ensured that prospective members spent a significant amount of time building personal relationships with one another. Members also taught prospective members to depend on one another as a cohesive group. George described group activities to explain: “I would say when we pass the chicken. You pass the chicken from the beginning of the line to the end of the line, and then the member on the bottom of the line swallows it. That signifies that everything you went through I’ve gone through. Not only that, you got to break down the barriers to pass the egg from your mouth to the mouth of the other guy.” Therefore, negative reinforcement and other hazing activities fostered unity among the incoming group, as described by Terrence: “If one person messes up, then they all mess up. You all are one body, so it ain’t no separate bodies. So, if one person messes up, you all mess up. It’s just a form of punishment to show you how to be more consistent

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and take pride and be very nitpicky and trying to get people [to] establish the way they do things.” Many BGLF members believe that hazing and/or pledging are valuable and that they foster a bond among those who participated in abusive acts during their admission process.21 By completing the hazing process, participants strengthened bonds with chapter members, as reflected in Chester’s comments about his experience: “I think it allowed me to bond much more quickly with the brothers with whom I went through the process with and it also allowed me to form a bond with those who took me through the process.” Furthermore, in a focus group of predominantly black Greek-letter organization members at Wichita State University, participants stated that the pledging process facilitated closeness between prospective members similar to that between real family members.22 Although hazing was a difficult process, prospective members bonded with one another and with chapter members. Participants remarked that the difficulties associated with hazing forced them to build meaningful relationships and to understand the intent and purpose of the process. Most important, the process facilitated interpersonal bonds that organizational members report cherishing far past their collegiate careers. Participants also reported that the process forced them to be more team oriented. Ultimately, a prospective member’s endurance of abuse during membership intake translated into a deeper appreciation for the organization and caring relationships among all involved.

Respect Participants went through the membership intake process with the ultimate goal of joining the BGLF. Most participants were not content with simply being affiliated with the organization; they wanted other chapter members to both accept and respect them. Participants believed other chapter members respected them more than they respected those who chose not to participate in hazing. A 1992 study conducted by John Williams on black Greek-letter organizations regarding their perceptions of the new membership intake process revealed that members viewed respect as a core value and chose to obtain respect through the pledge process.23 Also, participants indicated their relationship with organizational members was strengthened, and a closer bond developed because of their participation in hazing activities. Participants who endured hazing from their chapter members believed they therefore also earned chapter members’ respect. As Theodore remarked, “I wanted to be down, I wanted the respect; I wanted to do some things that not many people can say that they have done.”


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A respondent in Kimbrough’s research commented on a nonpledging organization and/or its members: “On our campus, everyone knows it and they don’t get spoken to, or even ignored or ridiculed at events, sometimes those that don’t pledge at first will (later) just to gain the respect from their fellow Greeks.”24 An anonymous BGLF member also recalls a conversation with prospective members after they endured a pledge session: “You didn’t have to pledge. You guys could’ve used the official process, signed your name to a piece of paper and taken a fraternity history test. But then you would have been a brother in name only—a ‘paper brother.’ The documents may make you technically a member, but the brothers won’t treat you like a brother. And that’s the way it is.”25 Ultimately, participants did not want to be called “paper,” a term that negatively identifies members of BGLFs who have not endured hazing experiences. Often the stigma of being referred to as “paper” serves as a motivating factor for prospective members to engage in hazing activities; Jimmy expressed his rationale for submitting to hazing: The reason I allowed myself to be hazed was because it was something that I really wanted and I just didn’t want to walk in. I didn’t feel comfortable being just paper. Among other things, I didn’t want to be called paper. It was determination that I had to have and say that I went through something, so you can’t judge me or even if I did go through intake, I still would need to know my history. If I’m not really required to do certain things, then I’m going to do what I want to do and wait. I really didn’t want to walk in and other people didn’t want me to walk in, so I just did it. Participants also believed their persistence through the hazing process demonstrated their loyalty to the organization, as indicated by Melvin: “To me it proved to the rest of the guys that were already in the fraternity that I was willing to do anything for this fraternity and it proved the love that I would have for it.” According to participants, the level of hazing that one endured directly related to the amount of respect earned, a sentiment echoed by Michael: “It seems as if the people who have been through a lot of the hazing activities have more respect. Ninety-nine percent of what they say can be garbage and 1 percent can be truth, but people will still respect their opinion before someone who wasn’t hazed.” Overall, participants agreed that by participating in the various hazing activities, they, too, gained acceptance and respect from organizational members. Although numerous participants indicated respect as the main reason for willingly enduring hazing, participants admitted that on many levels it did not matter if a member experienced hazing as a part of intake activities. Participants

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felt that as long as a person does the work of the organization, being paper or real did not matter. Eventually, as admitted by participants, members who did not endure hazing can earn respect through accomplished work for the organization, as George explained in his statement: “I’ve seen members who didn’t get pledged or hazed who were great members. To me pledging doesn’t actually make you a better or worse member of the fraternity because you are going to do what you want to do anyway. I really don’t look down on those who didn’t pledge as long as they do work for the fraternity, work for the organization.” Although 90 percent of the participants agreed that hazing was not necessary to become a good member, it was integral in establishing oneself as a respectable member of the organization. Along the same line, 40 percent of participants reported a lack of respect for members who chose not to accept hazing as a prerequisite for membership. In fact, a few participants responded by stating that non-hazed members did not earn the same level of respect as hazed members. One participant considered non-hazed members “punks” because of their “paper” status.

Intrinsic Values Based on participant responses, hazing’s value is part of a long-running argument within Greek-letter organizations. Most argue that hazing solidifies an organization’s intrinsic values for participants, builds character, and promotes discipline. Participants consistently stated that experiencing hazing over time was beneficial, as echoed by Chester: Number 1 it allowed me to form a bond with my line brothers that I don’t think I would have been able to form in that short amount of time. It gave me a sense of comfort; it increased my comfort level around them to where we were able to work together on projects once we became members of the fraternity because we had been working together so intensely, all be it was for a short period of time. By that time I had an idea of who I could trust and who I couldn’t and who I could depend on. It helped our transition from potential members to membership. Also, I think it gave me a sense of accomplishment to say I’ve been through this at this point in my life, it’s not much more you could throw at me that would be able to faze me. Sixty percent of participants said the hazing process built character and provided the necessary discipline in life to help them become successful. Jimmy explained that he applied lessons from the membership intake process to his life: “Yeah, it taught me a lot about life because pledging was just a one-time process, life itself has ongoing trails and tribulations that you deal with, girlfriends, job,


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family, death and anything that goes on within your family. If you go through a pledging process, you can take anything that deals with life.” Participants also indicated that enduring the hazing or pledging process helped them better analyze and understand their strengths and weaknesses, as expressed by Marcus: Mentally it made me a stronger person. The process alone is hard on you mentally, but the hazing part, I really do feel it made me a stronger person because once you reflect on the things that can happen during the process good or bad, you made it through it. I think anybody who has trials and tribulations in the future can reflect on those times and say, I can make it through this because I made it through that. At the time it seems like the hardest thing that’s going on in your life. Participants expressed that they gained a sense of accomplishment and felt better prepared for life’s challenges as a result of completing a membership intake process that included hazing. Participants felt that their hazing experiences prepared them for general life obstacles. Melvin, for example, explained that, “We couldn’t walk on grass; it shows you that in life there are no shortcuts, so, walking through grass would have been like a shortcut that we had in everyday life. Instead of walking through the grass, you walk all the way around on concrete or what ever it is until you got to your destination.” Ultimately, participants believed that hazing engendered feelings of pride, loyalty, and accomplishment among all involved in the membership intake process.

Conclusion Structural Description

Participants in the study experienced hazing during pledge sessions while participating in membership intake. Pledge sessions provided members and prospective members with the opportunity to strengthen relationships with one another. During pledge sessions, participants reported hazing that included paddling on the buttocks with “wood,” being slapped in the abdominal area, back, chest, and face, and being forced to do push ups, calisthenics, and other physical activities. During pledge sessions, fraternity members regularly assessed prospective members’ level of fraternal knowledge acquired and/or the quality of their completed assignments. Members subjected participants who failed to appropriately recite or respond to negative reinforcement (hazing). Members imposed negative reinforcement until a prospective member answered correctly or chapter members deemed the participant adequately punished regardless of their ability to provide correct responses to questions

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and/or assignments. Pledge sessions ranged from once a week to daily over four to eight weeks. Participants also perform manual labor for chapter members’ benefit, such as washing cars, cutting grass, cleaning houses and rooms, running personal errands, and purchasing food items and other merchandise, often with their own funds.

Textual Description

After considerable reflection, participants felt that their hazing experience tested their character and perseverance. By enduring hazing during membership intake, participants felt they cultivated their ability to overcome future life obstacles. Although participants expected and/or willingly endured hazing, they quickly realized that members subjected them to fewer violent acts when they answered questions correctly during pledge sessions and/or completed assignments as requested. Participants earned chapter members’ respect for enduring hazing during membership intake. Furthermore, as a result of enduring hazing, participants felt they were better prepared for their roles within the fraternity. Most prospective members did not actually define their experiences during the pledge intake process as hazing. Specifically, study participants did not consider the activities they endured as hazing if the acts could be tied to the organization’s goals and objectives. For instance, a participant who was paddled for failing to complete an assignment considered the act pledging—not hazing— and such an act was permissible because the participant failed to comply with an organizational activity as requested. However, if a member paddled a participant for failing to acknowledge a chapter members’ girlfriend, the participant considered the incident hazing. Tradition contributes to hazing among BGLFs. More specifically, 85 percent of participants experienced hazing as prospective members and hazed others as chapter members, citing tradition as their primary reason. Generally, participants identified tradition as fundamentally important to a chapter’s customs and values. Subsequently, among participants, hazing fostered a long-term commitment to uphold an organization’s principles, created loyalty, and increased participation in all fraternity endeavors. Furthermore, ongoing pressure from chapter alumni reinforces hazing at the collegiate level. According to participants, pressure from chapter alumni typically occurs in the following manners: (1) Alumni openly voice displeasure with the current method of accepting members by referring to the process as easy by comparison to their own initiation processes; this is especially true for those initiated prior to 1990. Before 1990, membership intake often lasted four to eight weeks and hazing was a routine part of the pledging process. Alumni often refer to chapter members initiated after 1990 as being “microwaved,” which refers to the shortness of current fraternity admission processes. (2) Storytelling of hazing experiences by alumni influences the continuation of


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hazing. In particular, collegiate members interpret the stories as a rationale to continue hazing. Chapter members’ need for acceptance significantly contributed to the continuation of hazing rituals. Moreover, in a study conducted by Kimbrough and Sutton revealed that fraternities are more peer-oriented and subsequently greatly influence prospective members to submit to hazing in order to gain acceptance within the organization.26 Another contributing factor to hazing among BGLFs was the bonding experience generated during membership intake. In fact, according to Ben Gose, members who share similar experiences with hazing often develop a closer bond.27 As reported by John H. Schuh and colleagues in their study of black Greek-letter organizations, these shared pledging experiences fostered a closeness that is similar to that between biological family members.28 Ultimately, members viewed bonding as the cornerstone of achieving stronger brotherhood within the chapter and the shared closeness benefited the fraternity by facilitating greater feelings of respect, caring, and loyalty among all fraternity members. Participants repeatedly mentioned that they will value the relationships they formed during the hazing process for a long time after their collegiate years. Participants said hazing strengthened their loyalty to their respective organizations and to their members. Prospective members need to earn respect contributed most powerfully to hazing among BGLFs. According to Williams, as cited in Kimbrough, prospective members highly value obtaining respect through the pledging or hazing process.29 In fact, members who endured more difficult hazing experiences often earned higher levels of respect. Unfortunately, most participants believed hazing will persist as long as collegiate chapters exist. Also, hazing would continue because prospective members often desire it as a means of earning acceptance and respect. Consequently, as one participant stated, “passage of additional policies pertaining to hazing would only serve to further embed the custom into an already secret society of people.”

Notes 1. James White, “A Qualitative Inquiry of a Historically Black Colleges’ Response to a Fraternity Post-initiation Hazing Incident” (Ph.D. diss., Wilmington College, 2000). 2. Pamela Reese, “Addresing Hazing in Black Greek Organizations Through an Awareness of Organizational Culture,” Campus Activities Programming (1993): 37–39. 3. “NPHC Joint Position Hazing Statement 2003,” National Pan-Hellenic Council, Inc., http:/www.nphcq.org/docs/NPHCJointPositionStatementAgainst Hazing2003.pdf. 4. Ibid.

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5. Christopher Shea, “Wall of Silence,” Chronicle of Higher Education 40 (1994): 25–26. 6. Michele Collison, “8 Major Black Fraternities and Sororities Agree to End the Practice of Pledging,” Chronicle of Higher Education 36 (1990): A31. 7. Paul Ruffins, “Greek Tragedy,” Washington City Post, June 18, 1999. 8. John Creswell, Qualitative Inquiry and Research Design: Choosing among Five Traditions (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage Publications, 1998), 51. 9. Ibid., 52. 10. Meredith Gall, Walter Borg, and Joyce Gall, Educational Research: An Introduction (White Plains, N.Y.: Longman, 1996), 600. 11. Douglas R. Richmond, “Putting an End to Fraternity Hazing,” NASPA Jounal 24 (1987): 48–51. 12. Jay Schleifer, Everything You Need to Know about the Dangers of Hazing (New York: Rosen Publishing Group, 1996), 27. 13. Christopher Hahn, “Parents Awarded $14 Million in UM Hazing Death,” Palm Beach Post, February 7, 2004, sec. A. 14. Elenna de Lisser, ”Violent Hazing threatens Black Fraternities,” Wall Street Journal, November 18, 1994, sec. B. 15. Paul Ruffins and Jamilah Evelyn, “The Persistent Madness of Greek Hazing,” Black Issues in Higher Education 15 no. 9 (1998): 14–18. 16. Kevin Cokley, Kesi Miller, Dana Cunningham, Janice Motoike, Aisha King, and Germine Awad, “Developing an Instrument to Assess College Students’ Attitudes Toward Pledging and Hazing in Greek Letter Organizations,” College Student Journal 35 (2001): 451. 17. This account aims for accuracy and is also concerned with protecting the identity of my informants. As such, I use pseudonyms when referring to the informants, but I do not alter their words, organizational affiliation, or other demographic information. 18. Ricky Jones, Black Haze (New York: State University of New York Press, 2004), 91. 19. Anonymous, “Pledging a Brother, not Intaking a ‘Paper Brother,’” Black Issues in Higher Education 14 (1997): 26–28. 20. Walter E. Kimbrough and E. Michael Sutton, “The Persistent Pledging of Black Greeks,” NASPA Journal (1998): 2–7. 21. Ben Gose, “Efforts to End Fraternity Hazing Have Largely Failed, Critics Charge,” Chronicle of Higher Education 43 (1997): 37–38. 22. John H. Schuh, Vicky L. Triponey, Lynette L. Heim, and and Karyn Nishimura, “Student Involvement in Historically Black Greek Letter Organizations,” NASPA Journal 29 (1992): 274–82. 23. Walter Kimbrough, “Notes from Underground: Despite a Ban, Pledging Remains,” Black Issues in Higher Education 17, no. 6 (2000): 88. 24. Ibid. 25. Anonymous, “Pledging a Brother, not Intaking a ‘Paper Brother,’” Black Issues in Higher Education 14 (1997): 26–28. 26. Kimbrough and Sutton, “The Persistent Pledging of Black Greeks,” 2–7. 27. Ben Gose, “Efforts to End Fraternity Hazing Have Largely Failed, Critics Charge,” Chronicle of Higher Education 43 (1997): 37–38. 28. Schuh et al., “Student Involvement in Historically Black Greek Letter Organizations,” 274–82. 29. Kimbrough, “Notes from Underground,” 88.


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References Anonymous. “Pledging a Brother, not Intaking a ‘Paper Brother.’” Black Issues in Higher Education 14 (1997): 26–28. Cokley, Kevin, Kesi Miller, Dana Cunningham, Janice Motoike, Aisha King, and Germine Awad. “Developing an Instrument to Assess College Students’ Attitudes Toward Pledging and Hazing in Greek Letter Organizations.” College Student Journal 35, no. 3 (2001): 451. http://web3.infotrac.galegroup.com/itw/infomark/766/977/77943945w3/ purl=rc10_ITOFHazing_5ma&dyn=106!cnb_81_100?sw_aep=tel_a_uofmem (accessed July 31, 2004). Collison, Michele. “8 Major Black Fraternities and Sororities Agree to End the Practice of Pledging.” Chronicle of Higher Education 36 (1990): A31. Creswell, John. Qualitative Inquiry and Research Design: Choosing Among Five Traditions. Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage Publications, 1998. De Lisser, Elenna. “Violent Hazing threatens Black Fraternities.” Wall Street Journal, November 18, 1994, sec B, 1. Gall, Meredith, Walter Borg, and Joyce Gall. Educational Research: An Introduction. White Plains, N.Y.: Longman, 1996. Gose, Ben. “Efforts to End Fraternity Hazing Have Largely Failed, Critics Charge.” Chronicle of Higher Education 43 (1997): 37–38. Hahn, Christopher. “Parents awarded $14 Million in UM Hazing Death.” Palm Beach Post, February 7, 2004. http://web.lexis-universe/doclist?_m=4b93000bc2cf2ed94a481a23 e9b87&_startdoc=26&wchp=dGLbVtz-zSKV&_md5=61aa9cb999c32ca31c5c627dfa (accessed April 20, 2004). Jones, Ricky. Black Haze. New York: State University of New York Press, 2004. Kimbrough, Walter. “Notes from Underground: Despite a Ban, Pledging Remains.” Black Issues in Higher Education 17, no. 6 (2000): 88. http://web3.infortrac.galegroup.com/ itw/infomark/766/77943945w3/purl=rc10_ITOFHazing_5ma&dyn=106!cnb_81_100 ?sw_aep=tel_a_uofmem. (accessed July 31, 2004). Kimbrough, Walter, and E. Michael Sutton. “The Persistent Pledging of Black Greeks.” NASPA Journal (1998): 2–7. “NPHC Joint Position Hazing Statement 2003.” National Pan-Hellenic Council, Inc. http:/www.nphcq.org/docs/NPHCJointPositionStatementAgainst Hazing2003.pdf/ (accessed January 10, 2005). Reese, Pamela. “Addresing Hazing in Black Greek Organizations Through an Awareness of Organizational Culture.” Campus Activities programming (1993): 37–39. Richmond, Douglas R. “Putting an End to Fraternity Hazing.” NASPA Jounal 24 (1987): 48–51. Ruffins, Paul. “Greek Tragedy.” Washington City Post, June 18, 1999. www.washingtonci typaper.com (accessed July 21, 2000). Ruffins, Paul, and Jamilah Evelyn. “The Persistent Madness of Greek Hazing.” Black Issues in Higher Education 15 (1998): 14–18. Schleifer, Jay. Everything You Need to Know About the Dangers of Hazing. New York: Rosen Publishing Group, 1996. Schuh, John H., Vicky L. Triponey, Lynette L. Heim, and Karyn Nishimura. “Student Involvement in Historically Black Greek Letter Organizations.” NASPA Journal 29 (1992): 274–82.

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Shea, Christopher. “Wall of Silence.” Chronicle of Higher Education 40 (1994): 25–26. White, James. “A Qualitative Inquiry of a Historically Black Colleges’ Response to a Fraternity Post-Initiation Hazing Incident.” Ph.D. diss., Wilmington College, 2000.

Chapter Twelve Commentary Shuana K. Tucker

The majority of black fraternities were founded one hundred years ago, or are now within a few years of celebrating their centennial. When reviewing their histories, there are five founding principles that share a common thread among all of the fraternities in regard to their missions: brotherhood, leadership, scholarship, achievement and community service. In years past, the pledging process lasted anywhere from six weeks to six months. The current membership intake process denounces hazing and sometimes calls for new members to sign anti-hazing contracts. It is a shortened version of the pledging process, and many members find it inadequate for new members to be educated about the goals and objectives of the fraternity. This chapter discusses the factors that contribute to hazing practices during membership intake activities. The author engages twenty undergraduate and alumni members of five fraternities to seek an understanding of why hazing continues to be intertwined into the membership intake process. Of those interviewed, they believe that pledging and hazing were similar, but with different intent and purpose. Hazing, when viewed negatively, was interpreted as a type of pain that had no intent or purpose tied to the goals and objectives of the organization. Hazing, when viewed positively, was interpreted as “appropriate” when tied to organizational goals. For example, when a new member fails to do assignments correctly, they run the risk of being hazed, and such a possibility was often considered appropriate. New members believed that hazing created a bond among them and fostered respect of existing chapter members. Because of this, they have a deeper appreciation for the organization. Ironically, these same members felt that hazing was not necessary for you to become a good member, but was a way to establish yourself as a respectable member, as a way to build character, and as a provision for the necessary discipline to handle life’s challenges. Alumni members believe that hazing holds historical significance in upholding the traditions of the organization. In essence, hazing was viewed as a “tradition.” 251

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One might ask how someone can decipher between positive and negative hazing. The findings from this research gesture toward an examination of the founding principles of the fraternities and whether or not those principles are imparted during the intake process? If they are not, then we must ask, “What are the barriers?” Black fraternities must revisit and restructure the membership intake process. This includes consideration of a longer intake process in which more time can be spent to bond, learn about the organization, and provide community service programs. As our black fraternities enter the second one hundred years of their collective existence, let them move away from physical abuse and lawsuits that may lead to their demise, and return to those ideals which may foster their continued perpetuation: brotherhood, leadership, achievement, scholarship, and community service.

13. Old School Values and New School Methods Preserving the Integrity of the Pledge Process and Defending against Hazing Liability Dara Aquila Govan

Let’s just get the awkward part out of the way. I believe in pledging. As a proud, active, and financially contributing member of a black Greek-letter sorority, not only do I believe in pledging, but I believe that pledging is essential to the livelihood of black Greek-letter organizations. Pledging separates BGLOs from organizations such as the Urban League, 100 Black Men, and Girl Friends Inc.1 And pledging is a major attraction for those who wish to join. But without defined pledge programs that speak to their historic values and traditions, BGLOs face extinction—hazing liability will bankrupt their finances and traditions.2 BGLOs share a rich history of excellence and perseverance. Each of these organizations was founded during oppressive and often hostile times for African Americans in the United States. While there are subtle distinctions between the organizations, at the heart of each BGLO are the same values and ideals— scholarship, service, and fellowship.3 Besides having membership rolls that are a veritable “who’s who” in black America, BGLOs have a strong track record in achievement and service to the community. BGLO members have fought collectively and individually for such causes as the suffragette movement,4 the antilynching movement,5 equality in the justice system, educational and economic advancement, and health awareness in underserved communities throughout the world.6 Despite this extraordinary legacy, BGLOs’ relevance is increasingly measured by step shows and hazing lawsuits.7 Neither of these factors defines the BGLO experience. BGLOs’ increased presence in the “hazing headlines” historically threatened their very existence and continues to do so today. 253

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While reported hazing incidents date back to the early days of BGLOs, hazing became anathema to BGLOs in the 1970s. In 1977, BGLOs suffered a major blow when a pledge died at North Carolina Central University while performing heavy exercises at the request of an outlaw group. That group falsely claimed a connection with Omega Psi Phi Fraternity, Inc.8 That same year, nineteenyear-old Robert Bazile, a University of Pennsylvania student, died after being paddled and forced to run long distances while he allegedly pledged an unsanctioned chapter of Omega Psi Phi. From 1980 through 1989, the number of hazing incidents reported in BGLOs increased, with at least twenty-five major incidents reported.9 Three of those incidents resulted in the death of pledges, including Van Watts, an Omega Psi Phi pledge and student at Tennessee State University, who died of an alcohol overdose (1983); another alleged Omega Psi Phi pledge and student at Lamar University, twenty-five-year-old Harold Thomas, who died of a hemorrhaging heart after performing strenuous exercise at the urging of a renegade member of the fraternity (1986); and Joel Harris, an eighteen-year-old Morehouse College student and pledge of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc., who collapsed and died during a three-hour pledge session (1989).10 In an attempt to counter dangerous hazing practices, members of the National Pan-Hellenic Council agreed to eliminate traditional pledge programs in 1990.11 Despite some younger BGLO members’ objections, the body elected to replace pledging with the “new membership intake process,” a two- to threeweek process (and even less time for some organizations) designed “to reduce the window of opportunity for hazing.”12 Despite the adoption of MIP, these organizations continue to face hazing-related “incidents and lawsuits.”13 These lawsuits have cost some organizations millions of dollars.14 Moreover, these incidents forced BGLOs to sacrifice the pledge process for a less meaningful membership intake process. Rather than eliminate the pledge process altogether, BGLOs should adopt a more organic approach to address hazing. In order to curb the number of hazing-related incidents and to preserve the integrity of BGLOs’ traditions and reputations, self-examination is necessary. First, BGLOs must revisit their foundations—that is, their historic roots, their founding principles, and their membership. Second, BGLOs must examine the trends associated with the fraternal movement and the context in which hazing began to take its toll on BGLOs. Third, once these trends are evaluated, BGLOs must gauge their responses’ effectiveness and identify MIP shortcomings. Finally, BGLOs must begin reforming their practices by reinstituting the more meaningful and useful practices of yesteryear and implementing new and inventive approaches to address their membership’s changing landscape.

Preserving Pledge Process, Defending Hazing Liability

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Methodology The BGLO Movement, Hazing Trends, and the Effectiveness of the BGLO Response

Taking the first step toward addressing hazing requires BGLOs to closely examine their roots. The fraternal movement in America began with the founding of Phi Beta Kappa fraternity on December 5, 1776, at the College of William and Mary.15 More than 125 years after the founding of Phi Beta Kappa, BGLOs emerged on college campuses. Patterned after the structure of their white counterparts, black students founded BGLOs to provide a meaningful support system for the few African Americans privileged enough to obtain a secondary education. These organizations also prepared their members to serve their communities and thrive in increasingly hostile academic environments for African Americans.16 So, where did they go wrong? “Since their inception, pledging, violent or otherwise, has been an integral part of Black Greek Culture.”17 One need only look to early accounts of the Sphinx [Pledge] Club of Alpha Phi Alpha to gain better insight into the pledge process’s intentions. In Herman “Skip” Mason’s blog, “Historical Moments,” which highlights Alpha Phi Alpha history, Mason provides background on typical Sphinx Club activities during the fraternity’s early days. “Common among all Sphinx Clubs of the 1920s is that they had elected officers and had a calendar of activities which included proms and dances. It was a very well organized and constructive process usually lasting from six months to a year.”18 Sphinx Clubs’ routine activities included social activities planned by the pledges, as well as “weekly meetings where the pledges were schooled in the principles of fraternalism.” Pledges also fine-tuned their public speaking abilities while attending “smokers” where they were “given the opportunity to speak ‘their bosoms.’”19 Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc.’s (Alpha Kappa Alpha) Ivy Leaf Pledge Club was similarly structured. One seasoned sorority member recalls “writing long letters of application to the Ivy Leaf Pledge Club” and “attending monthly meetings where the older students tutored [pledges] on the history [of the Sorority].”20 Alpha Kappa Alpha’s latest history book, however, acknowledges that “during the twenties, hazing began to infiltrate” the pledge process.21 Similarly, fraternity pranks also played a role in the early pledge process. Indeed, even pioneers such as Alpha Phi Alpha member Thurgood Marshall engaged in these antics. Marshall “personally took part in frat pranks such as shaving the heads of other students against their will and he used paddles to hit other students, often with too much enthusiasm.”22 Later in 1937, Alpha Phi Alpha founder Vertner Tandy expressed outrage over how far the pranks had gone: “I’ve seen

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men beaten so badly that three days later, they could not walk.”23 Clearly, violent hazing roots trace back to the BGLO movement’s first quarter of a century. While scholars differ in opinion about when dangerous hazing practices crept into the BGLO culture, Kim Padulo, college administrator responsible for Greek Affairs at California State University at Long Beach, believes that “‘[h] azing started after World War II with the influx of veterans.’”24 She says, “‘They brought a boot camp mentality to the experience.’”25 Later in the 1960s and 1970s, during the era of civil unrest in the United States, fraternity and sorority popularity diminished, as students considered them to be “pro-establishment.”26 Violent hazing continued to seep its way into Greek life.27 “The Greek ideals of tradition and rite, scholars now think, soon were used to rationalize hazing and abuse.”28 Sleep deprivation and strenuous physical activity became tradition in the 1970s.29 Over the next fifteen years, chapters grew rapidly.30 In fact, these chapters grew beyond their national offices’ ability to supervise them.31 “America’s youth culture became more aggressive and violent.”32 During this explosive period, BGLO leaders’ tolerance of hazing became almost nonexistent.33 Gradually, BGLOs began to modify their pledge programs in response to hazing. BGLOs modified pledge programs, which previously lasted a semester or more, now were from eight to twelve weeks.34 These changes to the pledge program did not curb the interest surrounding BGLOs. In fact, Greek life’s popularity became more eminent in the 1980s.35 National fraternity and sorority membership “nearly doubled from 1980 to 1986.”36 Simultaneously, an increase in the reported incidents of hazing blemished the reputations of these organizations.37 For example, during the 1970s, at least four major hazing incidents involving BGLOs were reported, including two deaths, one hospitalization, and twelve guilty pleas for hazing offenses.38 During the 1980s, those numbers increased dramatically. At least twenty-five major cases were reported, including four deaths, five incidents leading to the hospitalization of pledges, three criminal charges or convictions, and several other incidents that resulted in injuries to pledges.39 BGLOs responded again by reducing their pledge programs to six weeks.40 In 1986, Alpha Kappa Alpha offered its chapters the option of selecting a one-, two-, three-, four-, or six-week process.41 Later in 1988, Alpha Kappa Alpha instituted a moratorium on all undergraduate chapter activities and required undergraduates to attend “Paper Bag Summits” in order to resume full activity, “including pledging and initiation.”42 “Delta Sigma Theta responded [to the hazing epidemic] in 1984 by adopting the term ‘membership intake’ in lieu of the term ‘pledging.’” In 1986, Alpha Phi Alpha implemented a risk management program requiring members and pledges to pass a test on the fraternity structure, including policies relating to pledging and hazing.43 Phi Beta Sigma responded by ending pledging in 1987.44 Despite these efforts, the change


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in nomenclature and the condensed processes proved to be an inadequate response to the hazing crisis. In the 1990s, fraternity and sorority membership fluctuated, reflecting a negative response to publicized hazing incidents.45 In 1990, as a reaction to this rash of hazing incidents, particularly the death of Alpha Phi Alpha pledge Joel Harris, the National Pan-Hellenic Council, a coalition of the nine major BGLOs,46 voted to eliminate the traditional pledge process over the objection of its younger members.47 BGLOs replaced the more traditional pledge programs with a shorter, and arguably less meaningful MIP, which requires candidates to (1) attend an interest meeting, (2) submit an application, (3) accept an invitation to join, (4) attend initiation activities (usually for two to three weeks, and even less time for some BGLOs), and (5) attend voluntary educational sessions.48 The new process did away with such traditions as “walking in line,” greeting big brothers and big sisters, and dressing alike. In fact, under the new membership intake process, BGLOs reclassified these activities as hazing.49 Perhaps the most striking distinction between the two processes is that the aspiring member receives education about the particular BGLO after initiation, rather than as a prerequisite for initiation.50 In his 1992 dissertation, “Perceptions of the No-Pledge Policy for New Member Intake by Undergraduate Members of Predominantly Black Fraternities and Sororities,” John Anthony Williams surveyed BGLO undergraduates’ attitudes regarding MIP. Williams specifically measured the students’ policy awareness, tolerance for hazing, and their endorsement of the MIP policy. Based on the results of the surveys, Williams concluded that the undergraduate members felt that (1) MIP was enacted too quickly and with little input from the membership; (2) BGLOs defined hazing much too broadly; (3) MIP was too short a period to teach the history of the organizations; (4) the bonding component of the pledge process was lost; (5) the new policy put lifelong commitment to the organizations in jeopardy; (6) the new process promoted disunity in chapter ranks; and (7) new members were not respected by their older counterparts.51 Later in 1999, Walter Kimbrough, author of the book Black Greek 101: The Culture, Customs, and Challenges of Black Fraternities and Sororities, replicated Williams’s study and compared the 1992 survey responses to the 1999 responses. Kimbrough found that “overall, the 1999 undergraduates had a more favorable attitude toward membership intake, even though in most instances their support was only moderately greater than that of their predecessors.” The study concluded that (1) 5 percent fewer students believed that MIP afforded them the opportunity to screen out uncommitted applicants; (2) undergraduates maintained a core assumption about the benefits of pledging; (3) students in 1999 were more knowledgeable of the MIP policy; (4) students moderately endorsed the MIP policy; (5) students continued to tolerate hazing; and (6) 51.3 percent of those surveyed admitted to participating in unsanctioned pledge programs.52

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In 2004, a similar study was performed at the National Greek Leadership Conference. The study concluded that BGLO undergraduates continue to engage in pledge behaviors, and more specifically: 1. 64.2% participated in “set,” i.e., pledging sessions; 2. 76.7% learned and recited chapter founders; 3. 78.4% walked or stood in line; 4. 76.2% performed greetings to big brothers/sisters; 5. 58.3% performed exercises or calisthenics; 6. 72.1% were referred to by their line numbers; and 7. 50.5% were paddled.53 In sum, these three studies demonstrate that even after fourteen years of implementing MIP, undergraduates have not embraced the no-pledge policy and that hazing continues to be widespread. According to the book African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, since MIP was implemented there have been six reported hazing incidents for Alpha Phi Alpha, nine for Phi Beta Sigma, ten for Omega Psi Phi, nineteen for Kappa Alpha Psi, two for Zeta Phi Beta, three for Delta Sigma Theta, and six for Alpha Kappa Alpha. One of the most recent and widely publicized incidents occurred in September 2002 at California State University in Los Angeles, where hazing resulted in the deaths of Kristin High and Kenitha Saafir, two Alpha Kappa Alpha pledges. At Southern Methodist University in 2003, Alpha Phi Alpha pledge Braylon Curry went into a coma after suffering a pulmonary edema from excess water consumption during hazing.54 These examples demonstrate that MIP has been a failure.55

Recent Developments in Hazing Liability for BGLOs

MIP’s ineffectiveness has not come without a cost to BGLOs. Lawsuits arising from hazing-related deaths and injuries have cost the organizations millions of dollars. For example, Kappa Alpha Psi settled a lawsuit arising from the widely reported death of Michael Davis for $1.4 million. Members and faculty advisors of the local chapter where Davis pledged had previously settled for $850,000.56 In 1997, a jury ordered Omega Psi Phi to pay $774,500 arising from a 1994 hazing incident.57 That same year, Omega Psi Phi settled another hazing case for $375,000 arising from injuries sustained by pledge Joseph Snell while attending the University of Maryland. Similarly, on July 30, 1999, a jury in Kentucky ordered Omega Psi Phi to pay $931,000 to Shawn A. Blackston, who suffered kidney failure during a 1997 hazing incident.58


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Many lessons emerged from these and other recent BGLO hazing cases that provide organizations with insight on avoiding further liability. The first, and perhaps most valuable, lesson is that BGLOs that make significant efforts to address hazing are more likely to shield themselves from liability. For example, in Walker v. Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity,59 an injured pledge was required to prove that Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc. (“Sigma”), had breached its duty to prevent his hazing-related injury. In Walker, the pledge alleged that “during the [membership] intake process, he was physically beaten and abused by several members of the fraternity while they were conducting ‘hazing’ intake activities, which resulted in the [pledge’s] severe injuries.”60 The pledge argued that the Sigma’s “actions in forbidding hazing imposed a duty on it to prevent [his] injuries.”61 The court disagreed, finding that Sigma had a duty to act reasonably under the circumstances.62 The court then examined the evidence to determine whether Sigma acted reasonably. The evidence in Walker reflected that although Sigma prohibited hazing, the out-of-state headquarters were not in the position to monitor the local chapter’s activities on a daily basis. The court further noted that no members from the national office were present for the hazing activities.63 Furthermore, Sigma had (1) implemented a new membership intake and development process in order to prevent hazing, (2) disseminated the materials regarding the new process to all of its individual members, and (3) provided all of its chapters with a guide to the process. In light of the evidence of Sigma’s hazing prohibitions and efforts to inform its membership regarding the changes in its policies, the court refused to hold Sigma liable for the plaintiff ’s injuries.64 Similarly, in Kenner v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., an initiate was injured when fraternity members paddled him more than two hundred times in one night, causing him to be hospitalized with seizures and renal failure and subsequently placed on dialysis. The initiate brought negligence claims against Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity (“Kappa”), three of Kappa’s national and province officers, the local graduate chapter president, and the chapter advisor to the Beta Epsilon chapter (collectively the “individual defendants”). The initiate argued that Kappa and the individual defendants breached their duty to protect him from hazing. Kappa and the individual defendants argued that they had no duty to protect the plaintiff.65 Unlike in Walker, the Kenner court imposed on Kappa and the individual defendants a duty to protect initiates because (2) Kappa and plaintiff had a contractual relationship since plaintiff paid an application fee and signed a membership agreement with the fraternity in exchange for consideration for membership in Kappa; (2) the individual defendants took oaths and signed Kappa Form 60, promising to prevent violations of Kappa’s rules, including the anti-hazing policy; and (3) hazing injuries are a foreseeable risk that the fraternity took steps to address by banning hazing and instituting MIP. That

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duty notwithstanding, the court held that the claims against Kappa and all but one of the individual defendants must be dismissed because the plaintiff could not prove they had breached the duty. The court noted that Kappa took several steps to protect initiates from hazing, including banning hazing in 1949; issuing executive orders eliminating pledging as a condition for membership; instituting a two-year moratorium on membership intake after a pledge died on another campus; requiring each undergraduate chapter to enter into relationship agreements with host universities; implementing the no-pledge MIP policy; and requiring chapters to go through training to be recertified before they could initiate new members.66 Accordingly, BGLOs that make similar efforts to implement anti-hazing policies and to educate its membership on the policies may also find that courts will not hold them liable. It is imperative, however, that these organizations follow the procedures and guidelines they establish to prevent hazing. An organization’s failure to meet self-imposed obligations may result in liability. Indeed, the Kenner court refused to dismiss claims against the chapter advisor for that very reason. While the facts showed that Kappa made great efforts to prevent hazing through various policy and procedure changes, the chapter advisor failed to follow them. The facts showed that plaintiff attended an interest meeting for Kappa during the two-year moratorium on membership intake, even though Kappa expressly prohibited such meetings. Despite this prohibition, the chapter advisor not only permitted the Beta Upsilon chapter to hold the meeting, but he attended the interest meeting. He also failed to advise the prospective members of Kappa’s prohibition on membership intake, its antihazing policy, or the next steps in the membership intake process. The chapter advisor admitted that he felt “obliged” to advise the prospective members on the anti-hazing rules, but he failed to do so and even admitted that he was unfamiliar with the rules for the new membership intake process. Accordingly, the court refused to dismiss the plaintiff ’s negligence claims against him.67 Similarly, in another case, a court refused to relieve Kappa of liability where Kappa failed to follow its own rules regarding communications with host universities. In the 1999 case of Morrison v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc.,68 the plaintiff alleged that a Kappa member physically beat him, causing injuries to his neck and head.69 The plaintiff sued Kappa, claiming that it breached its “duty to regulate, protect against and prevent hazing by its collegiate chapters.”70 To support that contention, the plaintiff presented evidence that Kappa assumed a duty to prevent hazing by banning hazing activities. The plaintiff also offered evidence that Kappa issued an executive order to address hazing incidents at its local chapters, which was sent to all universities hosting local fraternity chapters. Kappa also had the power to revoke chapters, audit chapters for compliance with fraternity rules, and discipline members and chapters for infractions of their rules. Although Kappa initially denied having any knowledge of prior


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hazing at the local chapter where the plaintiff was injured, it eventually admitted that in 1988, before the hazing incident at issue, Kappa took disciplinary action against the chapter for hazing violations. The court found that despite acknowledging its obligation to keep the university informed of disciplinary actions taken against the local chapter, Kappa breached that duty by failing to “follow its own procedures . . . [N]o one at the university was notified of the [prior] incident or that disciplinary actions were taken.”71 Although Kappa took similar steps to prevent hazing as Sigma did in Walker, the court distinguished the facts by pointing out that Kappa was aware of prior hazing incidents at the local chapter and should have done more.72 However, in the dissenting opinion, one judge pointed out: [T]his distinction does not differentiate the factual circumstances of the two cases to such an extent as to warrant a finding of liability on the part of [Kappa]. . . . Contrary to the majority’s assertion that the [prior] incident would lead [Kappa] to believe that its measures to prevent hazing did not work, the fact that [Kappa] received no notice of hazing activity after the [previous] incident would suggest that its anti-hazing measures and the disciplinary action taken [earlier] were effective.73 The Morrison ruling offers three valuable lessons. First, courts are inclined to impose a duty on BGLOs to protect initiates from hazing, where the organization is responsible for regulating its local chapters. Second, courts expect organizations to follow their self-imposed procedures to prevent hazing, including informing host colleges and universities about hazing investigations and infractions by their local chapters. Third, courts expect BGLOs to scrutinize “problem chapters” where the organization is on notice of prior hazing infractions by its local chapters. Courts may have this expectation, even when the prior infraction was remote in time. For example, in Morrison, the prior infraction that purportedly put Kappa “on notice” of hazing at the local chapter occurred eight years before. In another case involving Kappa that same year, a court revisited the issue of “notice.”74 In Edwards v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., the plaintiff participated in an underground pledge process with Kappa’s Epsilon Omicron chapter. The plaintiff alleged that he was hospitalized after Kappa members paddled him, extinguished a cigarette on his hand, and inflicted other physical trauma. The evidence showed that around that time, the plaintiff notified the Kappa national headquarters that he was pledging. Headquarters told him that pledging was illegal and directed him to contact a regional officer to report the incident. The evidence also showed that the Epsilon Omicron chapter was penalized for hazing infractions twice before (although it is unclear when the prior infractions took place). Because of these prior hazing infractions, paired with the

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plaintiff ’s call to the national headquarters, the court found that Kappa was on notice of possible hazing at the Epsilon Omicron chapter and therefore had a duty to act.75 In Edwards, Kappa publicly encouraged witnesses to report such incidents of hazing, presumably so that they could be addressed, but then failed to act when the plaintiff reported a hazing incident. As a result of Kappa’s failure to act, the court discounted Kappa’s other efforts to prevent hazing. The court explained that although Kappa openly banned hazing and pledging, the extent to which Kappa diligently enforced and widely advertised the ban (as evinced by its failure to investigate the plaintiff ’s report) was unclear. The court ultimately found under the circumstances, that a jury might find that Kappa’s failure to act and investigate was unreasonable and was a breach of duty to protect the plaintiff. Therefore, the court refused to dismiss the plaintiff ’s claim against Kappa for its negligent failure to act.76 The Edwards case demonstrates that BGLOs that fail to follow their own rules, for example, investigating hazing reports, risk destroying their only real shield against hazing—their own policies. Additionally, this case informs BGLOs that simply making rules is not enough; BGLOs must also widely advertise their collective ban on hazing to its prospective members and host universities. The Edwards case resulted in another important ruling whose consequences are far-reaching for BGLOs. Besides alleging claims for negligent failure to act against the fraternity, the plaintiff also asserted a battery claim against Kappa, arguing that the organization was vicariously liable for its rogue undergraduate members’ actions. The plaintiff ’s battery claim was based on an agency theory, whereby the principal (in this case, Kappa) empowers agents (in this case, the local chapter and its members) to act on its behalf while under its control. Kappa argued that the rogue members were not its agents, and even if they were Kappa’s agents, they acted without its authority and the members were beyond Kappa’s control. The court disagreed. The court found that the facts revealed agency relationship. To wit, the rogue Kappa members wore and carried Kappa paraphernalia during hazing sessions, giving the impression that their actions bore the “Kappa imprimatur.” Also, Kappa’s failure to act could be viewed as tacit approval of the hazing incidents. Finally, several facts supported the conclusion that Kappa had control over the rogue members: “Kappa dictates the method employed to enroll new members,” monitors and visits local chapters to ensure compliance with its rules, requires local chapters to post its anti-hazing policy, and encourages witnesses to report hazing infractions. Perhaps the court’s most startling finding was its conclusion that Kappa may have been able to monitor the rogue members’ apartment, which was, “for all intents and purposes,” the local Kappa house because it had paraphernalia displayed inside and several members and aspirants lived there.77


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The courts’ findings impose a great burden on BGLOs. At the outset, the court used the same hazing prevention measures against Kappa that the court lauded in Kenner to justify its determination that an agency relationship existed. Indeed, the Edwards ruling forces BGLOs to take affirmative steps to avoid appearing to have an agency relationship with its local chapter members. This can possibly be achieved by requiring BGLOs to require members to sign agreements indemnifying the organization in the event that they engage in rogue activities. BGLOs should also consider requiring that the anti-hazing/membership agreements signed by members and potential members prior to membership intake include an acknowledgment that the individuals agree (1) to refrain from hazing activities; (2) to be held personally liable for any damages arising from any actions they engage in that are contrary to the anti-hazing policy; (3) that they understand that hazing can and has led to serious injury and death; (4) to waive any and all claims against the organization if they violate the policy; and (5) to submit to binding arbitration, any and all claims arising from the agreement.78 In any event, a return to more stringent membership application processes and rigorous screening may reduce the likelihood of attracting rogue members. The 2006 case of Alexander v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc.,79 rounds out the lessons from Walker, Morrison, Edwards and Kenner. In Alexander, the plaintiff brought suit against Kappa after a series of hazing sessions during an underground pledge process left him hospitalized for five days with lacerations to the buttocks and dehydration. In August 2003, more than a year before the plaintiff began the underground (illegal) pledge process at Fisk University, a chapter member met a young man wearing Kappa paraphernalia. The young man told the chapter member that he was inducted into Kappa in the spring of 2003, the same time the chapter member was also being inducted. Because the young man was not present during the spring 2003 MIP, the chapter member was alarmed by this representation. The chapter member suspected that the young man may have been involved in an illegal underground pledge program at Fisk. Accordingly, he reported this “renegade member” to Kappa officials for further investigation.80 After several Kappa province officials discussed this matter, they enlisted a local graduate chapter member to perform the investigation. Notably, the graduate chapter member had no training in investigating hazing reports and after a “cursory examination” he reported to Kappa province officials that he “couldn’t find out anything.”81 Later, in December 2003, the chapter member saw the “renegade member” at Kappa’s initiation program and he immediately reported him to the same Kappa official. The official advised that there was “nothing that could be done at that time,” and three hours later, Kappa officially initiated the renegade member.82 Kappa rules prohibited the initiation of any membership candidate who participated in an underground pledge process.

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In September 2004, the plaintiff began what he thought was the process of joining Kappa’s Fisk chapter through an underground pledge program led by the renegade member. Shortly thereafter, the plaintiff was injured during pledge sessions where he was paddled and beaten with a cane. As a result of his injuries and subsequent hospitalization, the plaintiff withdrew from school and lost his academic scholarship.83 In analyzing whether Kappa could be held liable for these events and resulting injuries, the court considered Kappa’s rules and its response to reports of underground pledging.84 Similar to the decision in Morrison, the court found that because Kappa was on notice of possible underground pledging at Fisk based on the August 2003 report, it had a duty to prevent the hazing-related injuries that occurred more than one year later. The court also found that Kappa might have breached this duty because it did not adequately investigate the August 2003 report of possible underground pledging when it delegated that task to someone who it admitted “was never trained in how to investigate allegations of hazing or underground pledging.” Accordingly, the court refused to dismiss the negligence claims against Kappa.85 The lesson here is three-fold. First, BGLOs must understand that most courts will impose a duty upon them to protect prospective members from hazing-related injuries when they are “on notice” of possible hazing infractions. Second, BGLOs must train their members, and more particularly, their leadership, to adequately investigate and respond to reports of hazing. Finally, while the case here did not hinge on the fact that the “renegade member” was initiated against Kappa rules, the court implied that BGLOs will be held liable in the event they fail to honor their self-imposed policies. In sum, BGLOs must apply these lessons in order to protect itself from liability: 1. Courts will impose on BGLOs a duty to protect aspirants from hazing injuries where the organization assumes control over the method and manner of membership intake; 2. Courts will also impose a duty to protect aspirants from hazing-related injuries if the organization is on notice that hazing may have taken place—even several years prior—at the chapter or elsewhere; 3. BGLOs must train their members, particularly their graduate advisors, presidents, regional and national officers on how to investigate reports of hazing; 4. Once BGLOs become aware of possible hazing infractions, they must act quickly to investigate, using qualified investigative teams; 5. BGLOs must follow their own self-imposed rules; 6. BGLOs must not only educate its members on its anti-hazing and membership intake policies, but they must also widely advertise their anti-hazing


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policies to both current and prospective members and host universities; and 7. BGLOs must closely scrutinize “problem chapters” and penalize them according to the organization’s policies and procedures. Finally, BGLOs should consider entering into well-defined anti-hazing/membership agreements with all current and prospective members prior to each initiation. These agreements should include provisions for requiring arbitration of all hazing claims, indemnification of the national organization by the individual members for defending itself against hazing claims, and waivers of claims for willfully disregarding the organization’s policies.

Recommendations While it is important for BGLOs to adopt sound policies and practices in order to defend against hazing lawsuits, this is only half the battle. As the Williams, Kimbrough, and Crenshaw studies demonstrate, members will continue to pledge underground as long as MIP is the status quo. As a proponent of pledging, I can appreciate (but do not condone) the reasons members might be willing to risk pledging underground. In the past, pledging “allowed active members to engage prospective members in a series of tasks and other challenges . . . . [T]asks . . . were originally intended to educate or prepare pledges for membership.”86 “The process would last for several weeks, and was meant to strip away the individuality of pledges through humbling activities, and to replace that individuality with an ‘understanding that one’s own actions will [a]ffect the entire group.”87 In addition to these valuable life lessons, pledging taught “accountability, manhood [and womanhood], scholarship, uplift and to endure all types of situations.”88 More important, pledging speaks to the core of BGLOs—fellowship—by offering members the opportunity to build strong bonds with their chapter members.89 MIP has failed in all these respects, offering less interaction between active and prospective members, less selectivity, and rarely considering input from the affected BGLO chapters’ members.90 Nevertheless, hazing’s violent, humiliating, and degrading methods must stop. Hitting one another, cursing at each other, calling names, and subjecting pledges to senseless servitude is inconsistent with all of the BGLOs’ founding principles. Reinstituting the “old school” pledge process is also not a viable solution to addressing the problems created by MIP because of the violent and often degrading culture that has seeped its way into BGLOs and the old process. A middle ground—a modified pledge process that incorporates some of the old traditions (e.g., uniforms, greetings, reciting history, traditional songs

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and poems) while condemning violence and degradation—may, however, be the answer. BGLOs should consider taking the following steps toward pledge reform and ending hazing: 1. Engage in open dialogue about membership intake. BGLOs should host focus group discussions as part of an open, but confidential, dialogue about pledging, hazing, and membership intake. The groups should be comprised of people who were initiated both before and after MIP was instituted and should also involve members who have been suspended for hazing. All participants in the dialogue should be offered amnesty so that they are comfortable speaking openly. Participants should be permitted to discuss their opinions on the goals of membership intake, the reasons members willingly risk pledging underground, and the experience they hoped for when they began the membership intake process. 2. Perform an organizational study to gauge what is and is not an acceptable component of the process. The next step toward reforming MIP is using an assessment tool to perform internal research on members’ attitudes toward the various components of the pledge process, utilizing the information learned during the open dialogues. The assessment tool should require members to identify goals and activities that are acceptable to a new pledge process, match those activities with the purposes and ideals of the organization, and to identify those activities and philosophies that are inconsistent with the organization’s values. The tool should also require members to share their views on the MIP’s effectiveness and eliminating traditional pledge vernacular like “pledge’ and “probate.” The Williams, Kimbrough, and Crenshaw studies are perfect examples of the type of assessment tool that is needed. 3. Share with the general body the results of the study and form a diverse task force to develop a new pledge process. Once their membership has identified the desired components for the new pledge process, BGLOs are obligated to build a process that encompasses their membership’s collective attitudes and ideals. The Pledge Reform Task Force should be just as diverse as the initial focus groups and should include members who work in law enforcement, psychology, historians, attorneys, educators, and undergraduates. The task force should also be charged with proposing alternatives to violent hazing, such as wilderness rites and retreats, pledge outreach projects, team building activities, and social bonding activities. 4. Revisit membership selection. BGLOs’ strength lies in its memberships’ quality and talent. For more than one hundred years, BGLOs have espoused the ideals of high scholastic and ethical standards, community outreach, and fellowship. However, the recent movement toward open enrollment and centralized membership selection has engendered divisiveness within our


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beloved organizations. In order to return to the days of selectivity and to prevent miscreants from joining their ranks, BGLOs must stop using the pledge process as the time to “weed-out” potential members. That should be done at the membership selection phase of any new process. However, BGLOs must understand that they will not attract the highest caliber individuals to join their ranks so long as they maintain low standards. If BGLOs intend to uphold its founding principles of high scholastic and ethical standards, they must (1) raise grade point average requirements, (2) require aspirants to demonstrate their commitment to community service and the organizations’ ideals, and (3) require its members to demonstrate why a candidate is qualified for membership. This may be accomplished through a three-step process. First, BGLOs can host “invitation only” rush activities or interest meetings, open only to candidates who are descendants of BGLO members, i.e., legacies, and individuals that current chapter members believe pass muster. The second step would involve changes to the membership application phase of pledge process. Aspirants would be required to complete a membership application and (1) submit a letter of interest; (2) a certification setting forth their qualifications and demonstrable community outreach or leadership experience; and (3) a recommendation letter from a chapter member. Upon completing the application package, potential members can be further screened through standard interviews. Third, the successful aspirant would receive an invitation to participate in the new pledge process, and upon successfully completing the process, be initiated into the organization. It is important to note, however, that if BGLOs continue to deprive their members of the right to select new members, they will continue to breed an environment of divisiveness. 5. Strengthen current anti-hazing policies and procedures. BGLOs have made significant progress in its “war on hazing” by developing anti-hazing policies and procedures, but much more can be done. As set forth more fully in section II above, BGLOs must continue to (1) educate their members, host universities, and the general public on their anti-hazing policies, (2) be proactive about addressing reports of hazing, (3) implement a penalty system that is consistently applied, reasonable and fair, (4) comply with their own rules, and (5) train their leadership on how to effectively address hazing complaints. BGLOs should consider hosting anti-hazing events where pledges or family members of pledges who have been hurt can speak to members about the horrors of hazing, create a uniform NPHC anti-hazing video to be distributed to all chapters and host universities to be shown at interest meetings, chapter events, and pre-MIP workshops, circulate monthly risk management reports among BGLO leadership to keep one another abreast of hazing trends, regularly monitor Web communities like “MySpace” and “Facebook” for evidence of underground hazing activities, request assistance

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from Greek paraphernalia shops to report when merchandise is being ordered for “pledge lines,” host chapter advisor seminars and continuing education courses, and develop membership agreements that place just as much onus on the active and prospective members as it does on the organization to actively prevent hazing. These suggestions are, by no means, the answer to ending dangerous hazing, but they hopefully serve as a step in the right direction. Once BGLOs recognize that violence is the problem, rather than ritual and initiation, they can begin revisiting their positive, old traditions (e.g., study hall, character building, learning history, greetings, classy dignified uniforms, and probate shows), and receive a greater investment from their members. Until BGLOs cease having a one-sided “dialogue” about the merits of pledging and come to terms with the shortcomings of MIP, hazing will continue to threaten their existence.91 Notes 1. John A. Williams Sr., “Perceptions of the No-Pledge Policy for New Members Intake by Undergraduate Members of Predominately Black Fraternities and Sororities” (Ph.D. diss., Kansas State University, 1992), 130. 2. Michelle J. Nealy, “Black Greeks Debate Their Future,” Diverse Online, November 11, 2007, http://www.diverseeducation.com/artman/publish/printer_10216.shtml. 3. Lawrence C. Ross Jr., The Divine Nine (New York: Kensington Books, 2000), 160; Anthony M. Crenshaw, “Undergraduate Members Perceptions of the Current Membership Intake Process: Among Selected Black Greek-Lettered Organizations” (Master’s thesis, Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University, 2004), 17. 4. Marjorie H. Parker, Alpha Kappa Alpha: In the Eye of the Beholder (Washington, D.C., 1979), 71; Ross, The Divine Nine, 217. 5. Ernestine Green McNealey, Pearls of Service: The Legacy of America’s First Black Sorority, Alpha Kappa Alpha (Chicago: Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., 2006), 117. 6. Ross, The Divine Nine, 427; Isabel Wilkerson, “Black Fraternities Thrive, Often On Adversity,” New York Times, October 2, 1989, A1. 7. Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks, “Broken Bonds: Are Black Greek Organizations Making Themselves Irrelevant?” Diverse Online, June 14, 2007, http:// www.diverseeducation.co,/artman/publish/printer_7432.shtml (accessed June 14, 2007). 8. Hank Nuwer, Wrongs of Passage Fraternities, Sororities, Hazing, and Binge Drinking (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999), 246. 9. Ricky L. Jones, Black Haze: Violence, Sacrifice and Manhood in Black Greek-Letter Fraternities (Albany: SUNY Press, 2004), 122–26. 10. Nuwer, Wrongs of Passage, 251, 253, and 357; Jones, Black Haze, 124,136. 11. Paul Ruffins, “‘Greek’ Pride and Pain,” Black Issues in Higher Education, August 19, 1999, http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0DXK/is_13_16/ai_55824846 (accessed February 22, 2009).


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12. Ibid. 13. Ibid. 14. Ibid. 15. McNealey, Pearls of Service, 5. 16. Williams Sr., “Perceptions for New Membership,” 24; Wilkerson, “Black Fraternities Thrive,” 2. 17. Michelle J. Nealy, “Black Greeks Debate Their Future,” Diverse Online, November 11, 2007, http://www.diverseeducation.com/artman/publish/printer_10216.shtml (accessed February 4, 2008). 18. Skip Mason’s Historical Moments, “Finding the Good and Praising It,” http:// www.skipmason.com/hm/hm20.htm (accessed February 4, 2008). 19. Ibid. 20. Lawrence Otis Graham, Our Kind of People (New York: Harper Perennial, 2000), 96. 21. McNealey, Pearls of Service, 340. 22. Skip Mason’s Historical Moments, “Finding the Good and Praising It” (noting that Thurgood Marshall had been suspended from Lincoln University for hazing, but was permitted to return after he admitted to hazing in a signed confession). 23. Ibid. 24. Sharon Christensen and Michelle Devera, “Hazing Problem Down at Cal-StateLong Beach,” Daily Forty-Niner via U-Wire, September 8, 1999. 25. Ibid. 26. Katy Marquardt, “A Compact History of the Greek Empire at U. Texas,” Daily Texan via U-Wire, August 27, 1999; Ruffins, “‘Greek’ Pride and Pain” (“During the late 1960s and the Vietnam War Era, the Black fraternity and sorority movement suffered a loss of prestige.”) 27. Marquadt, “A Compact History.” 28. Ibid. 29. Ibid. 30. Ruffins, “‘Greek’ Pride and Pain.” 31. Ibid. 32. Ibid. 33. Ibid. 34. Anthony M. Crenshaw, Undergraduate Members Perceptions, 3. 35. Marquadt, “A Compact History;” Ruffins, “‘Greek’ Pride and Pain,” 103. 36. Marquadt, “A Compact History.” 37. Ibid.; Ruffins, “‘Greek’ Pride and Pain,” 103. 38. Jones, Black Haze, 122. 39. Ibid., 122–28; Crenshaw, “Undergraduate Members Perceptions,” 3. 40. Crenshaw, “Undergraduate Members Perceptions,” 3. 41. Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., Alpha Delta Chapter, Pledge Program Selection Form to North Atlantic Regional Director Idell Pugh, September 26, 1986, Alpha Delta Chapter Archives, Morgan State University (unpublished material). 42. Janet Jones Ballard, Supreme Basileus, Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., to All Undergraduate Chapters through Chapter Basilei, September 6, 1988 (unpublished material). 43. Crenshaw, “Undergraduate Members Perceptions,” 3; Gregory S. Parks and Tamara L. Brown, “‘In the Fell Clutch of Circumstance: Pledging and the Black Greek

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Experience,” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, ed. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005), 443–444. 44. Parks and Brown, “Fell Clutch of Circumstance,” 444. 45. Marquadt, “A Compact History.” 46. National Pan-Hellenic Council, Inc., http://www.nphchq.org (accessed February 4, 2008). 47. Michelle J. Nealy, “Black Greeks Debate Their Future,” Diverse Online, http://www .diverseeducation.com/artman/publish/printer_10216.shtml (accessed February 4, 2008). The decision proved to be a rash one, although grounded in good intentions. Indeed, BGLOs made a critical mistake in implementing the new “no pledge policy” without having a meaningful dialogue with members beforehand. Williams Sr., “Perceptions for New Members,” 23. Instead, BGLOs forged ahead with a new process, failing to consider the impact that a lack of “buy-in” from current undergraduates would have on a new process. 48. Jones, Black Haze, 74; Nealy, “Black Greeks Debate Future.” MIP differs slightly along organizational lines. 49. Parks and Brown, “Fell Clutch of Circumstance,” 444; see also National PanHellenic Council, Inc., Council of Presidents, “Joint Position Statement Against Hazing, September 13, 2003,” http://www.nphchq.org/docs/NPHCJointPositionStatement AgainstHazing2003.pdf (accessed February 4, 2008). 50. Jones, Black Haze, 74. A common and fundamental flaw in the process is that educational sessions on the organizations’ ideals, aims, history, and traditions follows the initiation and thus, there is not much incentive for a new member to take the sessions seriously. “The core assumption involved in MIP is that the [people] who are initiated first will not submit to hazing because they have already obtained their object of desire—membership.” Jones, Black Haze, 75. But if you give the candidate the “object of their desire” without providing them with the information that is vital to the sustenance of the organization, you are, in essence, “giving away the milk without selling the cow.” Moreover, BGLOs put way too much stock in the notion that nominal membership is the “object of desire” for an aspirant. The real “prize” that aspirants seek is the lasting familial bonds, traditions, and a meaningful connection to the fraternity or sorority. See Isabel Wilkerson, “Black Fraternities Thrive,” sec. A1 (noting that students are attracted by the tradition and high visibility of BGLOs). 51. Jones, Black Haze, 74; Williams Sr., “Perceptions for New Members,” 23. 52. Walter Kimbrough, Black Greek 101: The Culture, Customs, and Challenges of Black Fraternities and Sororities (Madison, N.J.: Farleigh Dickinson University Press, 2003), 89. 53. Crenshaw, “Undergraduate Members Perceptions,” 42. 54. Parks and Brown, “Fell Clutch of Circumstance,” 445. 55. Paul Ruffins, “Frat-ricide: Are African American Fraternities Beating Themselves to Death?” Black Issues in Higher Education (June 1997), http://findarticles.com/p/ar ticles/mi_m0DXK/is_n8_v14/ai_19939538;(accessed February 22, 2009); Crenshaw, “Undergraduate Members Perceptions,” 24. 56. “Settlements and Verdicts, Kappa Alpha Psi,” July 11, 2007, http://www.lawyer sandsettlements.com/settlements/08661/hazing-death.html (accessed on February 13, 2008). 57. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101, 76.


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58. Ruffins, Frat-ricide. 59. Walker v. Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc., 706 So. 2d 525 (La. Ct. App., 1997). 60. Ibid., 526. 61. Ibid., 529. 62. Ibid., 528. 63. Ibid., 529–30. 64. Ibid., 529. The evidence also indicated that any hazing activities were purposefully hidden from the National Fraternity. 65. Kenner v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., 808 A.2d 178, 180–84 (La. Ct. App. 2001). 66. Ibid., 183–84. 67. Ibid., 184. 68. Morrison v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., 738 So. 2d 1105 (La. App. 1999). 69. Ibid., 1110. 70. Ibid., 1118. Incredibly, the court criticized Kappa’s efforts to prevent hazing at its local chapters. Ibid., 1119 (“As for breach, the ineffectiveness of the [Kappa’s] response to reports of hazing at its affiliate chapters is evidenced by the fact that such abuse continued even after promulgation and dissemination of [the executive order].”). But the court’s position defies reason. It is absurd to find that Kappa breached its duty to prevent hazing simply because hazing continued. It would be equally absurd to conclude that the police breached their duty to protect and serve the community because crime still exists. 71. Ibid., 1119. 72. Ibid., 1124–25. 73. Ibid., 1125. 74. Edwards v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., 1999 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 18247, *1, 3 (N.D. Ill. November 17, 1999). 75. Ibid., 3–7, 21. 76. Ibid., 21. 77. Ibid., 13–17. 78. Paul Ruffins, “The Persistent Madness of Greek Hazing,” Black Issues in Higher Education, June 25, 1998, http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0DXK/is_n9_v15/ ai_20894001?tag=content;col1. (accessed February 22, 2009); (“Omega Psi Phi has taken the novel approach of countersuing a former pledge who had filed suit claiming he had been hazed by fraternity members.”); Griffen v. Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc., 2007 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 14901, *5–7, 3, (E.D. Pa. 2007) (granting stay of hazing litigation pending outcome of arbitration pursuant to provisions in the “Membership Process form”). 79. Alexander v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc. 464 F. Supp.2d 751 (M.D. Tenn. 2006). 80. Ibid., 753. 81. Ibid. 82. Ibid. 83. Ibid., 753–54. 84. Ibid., 756–57. The court’s decision did not turn on the fact that notwithstanding Kappa’s rules forbidding a person who engaged in underground pledging to be initiated, it permitted the renegade member to be inducted. The court presumably did not do so because it was never firmly established that the allegations regarding the alleged renegade member were true. The fact that the court mentioned this rule, however, did not

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go unnoticed. It seems that the court was sending a message to BGLOs to follow their self-imposed rules or risk liability. 85. Ibid., 757. 86. Williams Sr., “Perceptions for New Membership,” 3–4. 87. Timothy L. Wilson, “Cool Like That: Exploring the Word of Historically Black Fraternities and Sororities,” http://www.uvm.edu/~vtconn/journals/1996/wilson.html (accessed February 8, 2000). 88. Joan Morgan, “The Broken Pledges of Greek Life,” Black Issues in Higher Education, October 29, 1998, http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0DXK/is_1998_ Oct_29/ai_53257758?tag=content;col1 (accessed February 22, 2009). 89. Williams Sr., “Perceptions for New Membership,” 6. 90. Ernie Suggs, “The Rise of the Black Greek Empire,” Herald-Sun, February 14, 1997, A11 (noting that Alpha Phi Alpha’s national office, rather than the chapters, selects members). 91. Portions of this chapter are redacted from Dara Govan, “‘Hazing Out’ the Membership Intake Process: Addressing Hazing Liability While Preserving the Pledge Process,” Rutgers L. Rev. 53 (2001): 679.

Chapter Thirteen Commentary Michael V. W. Gordon

The author of the article “Old School Values and New School Methods” has added more to the growing body of empirical studies surrounding the national discussion of black Greek-letter organizations. Because hazing is central to that national discussion, this article takes on importance and significance. For too long leaders in the Greek-lettered movement among African Americans have seemingly relied on instinct, expedience, group thinking, and other “shoot from the hip” methods of dealing with a problem that has now grown to such proportions as may threaten the very existence of these organizations. Empirical research is needed, because that often leads to measurable solutions to problems. The problem with such research studies is that the language necessary to present a scientific rational approach to analyzing a thing is often language that is inaccessible to the persons most needing that information. Then, too, students at the undergraduate level, who are most likely to value and practice hazing, rarely see the need for change. Therefore they wouldn’t be an audience for such studies. The good news is that practitioners (chapter advisors, Greek organization advisors, deans of students and authors, publishers, news media persons, and trial lawyers) can often find solutions to complex issues relating to hazing by reading such studies. Among those who perhaps should be included in that list but often are not, are national leaders in the black Greek community; that is, national board members, national office personnel, and national officers. Govan, in this article, is making a general plea to return to pledging but in a more enlightened era of awareness. The point most strongly made is that there is a great danger of debilitating litigation that can strip an organization of much-needed resources. There is a discussion of how the BGLOs arrived at the non-pledging stance in 1991. It is important to note that the NPHC never made the decision to eliminate pledging. That decision was made by the national presidents of the BGLOs at a called meeting in 1990 to address the problems 273

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that take place during hazing and it was prompted mainly by the cascading incidents of litigation because of injuries and deaths. In 1990, the national presidents of the BGLOs met specifically to address the growing seriousness of the problem of hazing. They agreed to eliminate pledging because it had grown to mean hazing in the eyes of many undergraduates. They agreed to take their decision back to their national bodies in convention. They did that and each national body ratified their decision and entered into the new form of the membership intake process. Because of the culture of national conventions of BGLOs, the overwhelming turnout is by graduate members (alumni). So the complaint that there was little undergraduate input is a legitimate one. About that same time (1991) Indiana University, where I was serving as vice chancellor, offered its facilities and services to assist the NPHC in establishing a national headquarters on its campus in Bloomington. I had made that offer to NPHC on behalf of Indiana University as early as 1982. The national president Daisy Wood and the vice president Birta Allen approached me at the annual AFA/NIC conference in 1990 to ascertain whether Indiana University’s offer was still good. The NPHC National Headquarters officially opened in January 1992 with Michael Gordon as executive director and Jason DeSousa, who at that time was a doctoral student in higher education at Indiana, serving as assistant director. The new national office began immediately to establish a number of services including a national symposium that very year directed at the MIOP, the nonpledging policies, and how to evaluate them. A number of nationally known higher education officials, various vice presidents of student affairs, university Greek affairs professionals, NPHC officers, including all national BGLO presidents, graduate students and undergraduate students. Even though no national officers of the BGLOs were able to attend, all other categories were well represented. A list of recommendations were arrived at and communicated to all concerned. There has been no response from the BGLOs. All subsequent appeals to initiate support or condone scientific research including professional evaluations of the actions taken to end pledging and establish the MIP has since been ignored. Considering how the NPHC is organized and how the national presidents arrive at conclusions about the matters discussed in the current study, the idea of books and articles such as this one urging a professional approach to decision making as regards pledging and membership intake may generate a muchneeded response.

Part VII

Ebony in the Ivory Tower BGLOs in Higher Education


14. Black Greek-Letter Organizations at Predominantly White Institutions and Historically Black Colleges and Universities Terrell L. Strayhorn and Fred C. McCall

In April 2007, we participated in a panel discussion held during a national meeting of college student affairs administrators—one of us as facilitator, the other as a panelist. The session was titled, “Black Greek Letter Organizations— Is there still a need?” Other panelists included a chief student affairs officer, a BGLO chapter advisor, and Dr. Walter Kimbrough, president of PhilanderSmith College and an authority on black fraternities and sororities. The discussion between audience and panel members was characterized by overwhelming emotion, unfettered loyalty to the sanctity of one’s own Greek-letter organization, and an endless refrain of questions. Is there still a need for historically black fraternities and sororities? What was the original purpose and mission of these organizations? And, perhaps most important, why do people join BGLOs today and what do they perceive they gain from such involvement? In many ways, this session served as our motivation to write this chapter. Much of the current literature on BGLOs consists of historical accounts that accentuate the sociopolitical contexts from which BGLOs emerged and vivid descriptions of their customs and traditions.1 By contrast, a second stream of inquiry highlights the negative consequences associated with fraternity and sorority life such as “pathological gambling,”2 alcohol abuse,3 and hazing.4 The extant literature is virtually silent on the reasons African Americans join BGLOs, their experiences within such organizations, and the perceived benefits members accrue from their involvement. This chapter is based upon a study that addresses this apparent gap in the literature.

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An Overview of the Literature The research on black Greek-letter organizations can be organized into three categories: history, involvement, and gains associated with participating in such organizations. The historical literature suggests that African American collegiate fraternities and sororities have a long and rich tradition of providing support for minority students at institutions of higher education.5 Since the founding of the first national collegiate BGLO in 1906, members have been interested in the “struggles against segregation, discrimination, prejudice, mistreatment, and the advancement of themselves and their people, and in supplying an adequate leadership for them.”6 Over one hundred years later, these organizations still provide support specifically for African American college students at predominantly white and historically black colleges and universities.7 In fact, C. William McKee stated that BGLOs provide “the major social structure for [black] members and nonmembers” on predominantly white campuses.8 Another area of research on historically black fraternities and sororities examines African American students’ involvement in black clubs and organizations. Lemuel Watson and George Kuh found that African American students at predominantly white institutions and historically black colleges and universities are involved in more activities than white students, spend more time in academic-related activities, and spend more time using campus facilities and participating in clubs and organizations.9 Their study, along with several others, highlights the importance of social involvement for African American students.10 Michael Sutton and Walter Kimbrough assert that commitment to serving disenfranchised members of the community is a major reason why African American students are actively involved in such organizations.11 African American students become involved in BGLOs for other reasons as well. A qualitative study examining the experiences of members of six National Pan-Hellenic Council organizations revealed four themes related to students’ involvement. These themes were bonding, service projects, role modeling, and cooperation.12 Finally, research examines the myriad benefits that individuals gain from their BGLO membership. One of the major benefits associated with joining a Greek-letter organization is leadership development.13 Kimbrough found that black Greek-letter organizations provide their members with leadership opportunities that they might not otherwise receive in predominantly white environments or organizations.14 This is because many predominantly white organizations have complicated and crowded pecking orders marked by traditional hierarchical structures of position and power. Conversely, black Greek-letter

BGLOs at Predominantly White Institutions and HBCUs

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organizations are commonly smaller, more intimate, and more likely to operate on a familial or relational model.15 Kimbrough also found that members and minority students involved in BGLOs hold more leadership positions than those minorities who do not belong to Greek-letter organizations.16 Therefore, leadership plays a major role in BGLOs’ impact on minority college students’ experiences. If students feel that they may not have access to leadership opportunities (e.g., elected office, committee chair) that they perceive as being important for their personal and professional success, then they may be far less likely to join predominantly white organizations, specifically fraternities and sororities. As a result, they often seek out other opportunities such as black student unions, gospel choirs, and BGLOs. Historically black Greek-letter organizations provide their members with opportunities to interact with other students who share similar perspectives, cultural values, and experiences. Such interactions ease their adjustment to college and help them to make sense of their experiences at a predominantly white campus. Specifically, Beverly Tatum outlined an interpretive framework that explained various spheres of influential roles in terms of black students’ development. She clarified that black students tend to congregate together: (1) to protect themselves from further offense; (2) to turn to someone who will understand their perspective; and (3) to embody an oppositional stance so as to resist self-defeating stereotypes. In some ways, BGLOs may represent an arena where individuals can congregate for empathy, support, and understanding. Having supportive and understanding individuals to rely upon may foster a sense of belonging among members of strong ethnic enclaves such as BGLOs.17 Tamara Brown states that “Black Greek letter organizations are examples of subgroups that play a major role in facilitating college adjustment for their members by providing a strong social support network that helps reverse the plight of social alienation and provides opportunities for cultural expression.”18 Overall, predominantly white fraternities and sororities are less likely to offer African American students the support and information they need to best adjust to college life.19 Since their inception, historically black fraternities and sororities have served as “safe places” through which members negotiate their transition to predominantly white learning environments.20 It seems reasonable, then, to suggest that if BGLOs serve as supportive environments for African Americans at predominantly white institutions, then the same may be true of BGLOs at historically black colleges and universities. There may be subtle nuances, however, as HBCUs are praised for providing affirming, nurturing environments that sustain African American student success.21 Conversely, African American students often describe PWIs as chilly, unwelcoming environments.22 These differences may affect students’ reasons for

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joining a BGLO, their experiences as a member, and the nature and magnitude of the benefits they accrue from their involvement.

Theoretical Framework Although empirical research provides comparatively little information about the BGLO members’ experiences, we do know a great deal about the process by which individuals join these organizations. As such, we employed socialization as a theoretical framework to guide the selection of factors to consider in our study. Theoretical frameworks of this sort are useful, as they allow researchers to more clearly understand seemingly complex or even unambiguously simple issues. We employ socialization as a lens in this chapter because this approach allows us to view the topic from a more objective perspective. As we both belong to black fraternities, our own beliefs and experiences may color the way we perceive and understand this topic. By drawing on socialization theory, we attempt “to exoticize the ordinary”23 or, in other words, “to make the ordinary strange.”24 Indeed, entering any study “tabla rasa” and objectively are virtually impossible; all researchers approach the issues they study with their own preconceptions.25 However, theory enables us to suspend our own biases, frame our thinking about the process of joining a BGLO, and anchor our interpretations in participants’ words, experiences, and meaning making. Socialization is the “process by which persons acquire the knowledge, skills, and dispositions that make them more or less effective members of their society.”26 Another scholar viewed socialization as a “learning process through which the individual acquires the knowledge and skills, the values and attitudes, and the habits and modes of thought of the society to which he belongs.”27 Perhaps the most widely cited conceptualization of socialization was proposed by John C. Weidman and colleagues;28 these authors highlighted three phases in the socialization process: (1) knowledge acquisition; (2) investment; and (3) involvement. This frame allowed us to examine the process (and external influences) by which individuals acquire the knowledge about, and make the investment in, BGLOs in order to join these organizations. Weidman and colleagues’29 socialization theory has been applied to a number of groups in higher education including working-class students,30 doctoral students,31 black graduate students,32 and faculty members.33 To our knowledge, however, no existing scholarly works apply socialization theory to understand BGLO members’ experiences at PWIs and HBCUs. Framing the chapter’s study according to socialization theory added to the rigor and focus of our analysis;34 the theory also served as the organizing framework around which we present key findings.


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Methodology The goal of this study was to present “an elaborate venture in . . . thick description.”35 In qualitative research of this kind, “the job of the researchers . . . is to penetrate the surface to discover insights into the [experiences] of the humans they study.”36 We made several methodological decisions to reduce, if not overcome, the challenges posed by this approach. We established criteria for choosing a purposeful sample of individuals with whom we might speak about their BGLO experiences. Purposeful sampling is designed to “select information-rich cases whose study will illuminate the questions under study.”37 Thus, we set four criteria for selection: (1) experience, (2) knowledge, (3) verbal skills, and (4) willingness, in consonance with the epistemological assumptions of qualitative research. That is, we actively sought individuals who became members of BGLOs while attending either a PWI or an HBCU as an undergraduate, could articulate their reasons for joining and recall experiences in an organization, and willingly participated in the study. This sampling design yielded twenty “information rich” cases (ten at PWIs and ten at HBCUs); information rich cases are those from which one can learn a great deal about issues centrally important to the research.38 To collect data, we conducted one-on-one, in-depth, semi-structured interviews with individuals who met all four of the sampling criteria described above. Interviewing was the most appropriate technique data collection because it functionally preserves an individual’s voice and captures his or her experiences while grounding data in the words and meanings of participants. 39 We facilitated the interviewing process as a “conversation with a purpose”40 by using strategies to build rapport and probes with participants to unpack the significance they attached to their experiences. To maximize our sample size, we conducted telephone interviews with all willing participants who could not attend face-to-face sessions. In all cases, interviews lasted for approximately forty-five to ninety minutes. We audiotaped these interviews, which a professional later transcribed for analysis. We invited participation in this study by word of mouth, e-mail, or another combination of strategies. In some cases, we contacted chapter advisors and chapter presidents to identify potential participants. This represented a form of snowball or chain sampling that typically yields the kind of participants we were most interested in—those who have something to say about something in particular.41 The sampling approach described above clearly has limitations. Because we spoke only with those members who agreed to be interviewed, our findings may be based on a group of participants who, by definition, are more actively involved in their respective organizations and are therefore more readily able

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to articulate what they gained from such involvement. Whenever possible, we took steps to reduce sampling bias and enhance trustworthiness of the study. Consonant with Robert Bogdan and Sari Biklen,42 we used an extensive audit trail to reduce potential biases in the data analysis process, including (1) thorough examination of field notes, (2) reflections on the data collection process, and (3) weekly meetings and conferences to monitor each other’s work and argue out differences in interpretation.43 We achieved trustworthiness by using a variety of strategies. These included triangulating data sources and investigators, member checking, and negative case analysis in which we consciously sought unconfirming evidence.44 These strategies provide insights into the validity of the qualitative research process.45 Despite these steps, we struggled to do the best we could with our fundamental tools—“our ability to listen and observe carefully, empathetically, and compassionately.”46 Thus, we claim to know something but admit that that knowledge is, at best, partial. Additionally, what we learned from the study’s findings is always situated in a particular context with specific relevance to the individuals with whom we spoke.

Findings/Discussion The participants in this study cited a number of reasons for choosing to join a BGLO. These reasons can be characterized as both intrinsic and extrinsic motivations. Intrinsic motivations refer to a person’s innate motivations or internal reasoning, such as seeking a sense of belonging47 or internal feelings of generativity and enjoyment.48 Generally speaking, intrinsic motivations are difficult to measure and typically not observable by the human eye.49 Extrinsic motivations are external to the individual and/or organization. For example, extrinsic reasons include measurable or observable motivations such as monetary incentives, fame, power, and even popularity.50

Intrinsic/Extrinsic Motivations

Overwhelmingly, individuals cited intrinsic reasons for joining BGLOs. Consuella, a sorority member, offered a particularly powerful illustration: When I came here . . . my main deciding factor was that one of the first people that I met was my [future] sorority sister and she became a mentor to me and took really good care of me while I was living in the dorms and helped me out a lot. [HBCU student] In another example, Toni described his reasons for wanting to join a black fraternity:


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When I got to the university, the first guy I met who was an upperclassman was a member and he volunteered to help me out and move my stuff in, he always checked up on me . . . they were the ones who reached out to me. [HBCU student] Intrinsic motivations are reflected in words like “mentor,” “help[ed] me out,” and “reached out to me.” While many BGLOs hold formal interest sessions for interested individuals, these findings suggest that individuals are often inspired to join their respective organizations by a single member of a group. One factor that seemed to represent an external motivation or reason for joining a BGLO was an organization and its members’ reputation. In some ways, this may be related to traditional extrinsic rewards such as fame or popularity but to a lesser degree. Several respondents echoed the sentiment that they were drawn to their particular organization’s reputation and history: I became a [organization implied] because they were the most active group at my school and nationally. Many family members were members of the organization and I look up to them . . . the organization was the most impressive to me in terms of accomplishments, outreach, and membership when compared to other [groups]. I was always impressed with [said organization’s] dedication to scholarship, sisterhood, and community service. First, and foremost it was a faith-based organization, and secondly it was involved with education and serving the community. I wanted to join with other African American[s] . . . who were professionally motivated and socially aware . . . I specifically sought membership in my [organization] because of its distinct history and uniqueness. Also, I always appreciated the individuality of the [members]. Gaining information about the organization often led participants to acknowledge that their own beliefs and values were consistent with those espoused by other members of the organization. Participants could more easily “see themselves” as a member of the BGLO depending on the extent to which its values were congruent with their own. Several comments reflect this synergistic relationship—“saw myself as part of the mission of the organization . . . activist, social justice, leader” and, “after researching all, I determined that this one was for me.” Analyzing the data in terms of how frequently and intensely participants expressed this sentiment, we concluded that intrinsic motivators more powerfully

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facilitated one’s interest in joining a BGLO. For black students at PWIs, joining a BGLO provided an opportunity to connect with other black peers in hopes of finding the social and emotional support they needed to navigate the dominant culture. For instance, Barry described the challenges he faced: [Said university] is a very white . . . I mean very white place. There are very few blacks on campus and even fewer ways to be involved. Most people I know are members of fraternities or sororities so they can get to know other Black folk . . . sometimes you just need to be around your people . . . ya know? [PWI student]

Knowledge Acquisition

Apart from intrinsic and extrinsic motivations, we sought to understand how participants chose the organizations they eventually joined. In keeping with our theoretical framework, we examined our interview data based on one of three phases of organizational socialization in higher education.51 Specifically, we sought to understand how participants acquired knowledge about their BGLO prior to joining. By and large, participants reported learning about their organizations from other people including parents/guardians, extended family members, mentors, and friends. One participant explained, “Well, both of my parents are Greek so I grew up in that environment and in the south being in a BGLO is a big deal so I just went after what I wanted.” Johanna, another sorority member, stated simply, “My mother is one!” A fraternity member shared thoughts about an internship experience that helped him get to know his organization: The summer before my senior year of high school I worked at the city attorney’s office and there were six black attorneys. Three of which were from one organization and three of which were from another organization. I felt that the ones who were open with me really seemed to genuinely care about the things I was doing in high school and cared about me in general, were the members of my organization . . . they were the only ones who took me to court with them and out in the field with them . . . and those were the ones who have kept in touch with me to this day. All of these testimonies reflect individuals’ power to inspire participants to join their respective BGLOs. Through interactions with older or more experienced BGLO members, participants came to know their organization, its history, mission, and purpose.

Investment

Just as participants’ reasons for joining a BGLO were varied and distinct, so, too, were their experiences in the organization to which they belonged. In keeping


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with our organizing framework, we were particularly interested in understanding the nature of students’ experiences within their BGLOs and the various ways they invested in their respective organizations. Investment, according to socialization theory, refers to committing one’s time and self-esteem to the organization.52 Because such commitments often lead individuals to adopt the values to which they aspire, it is important that they invest time, energy, and self-esteem in the organization.53 Candace offered a poignant illustration of her experiences as a sorority member and the significant amount of time she invested in her organization: During my undergraduate years, I was very active in my sorority, serving as program chair and on various committees. The intake process overall was a positive experience, although it was a stressful and intense period. We met every evening for hours participating in ritualistic activities and getting ready for our “coming out” show. The most challenging part of the process for me was learning all of my line sisters’ names, hometowns, majors, and line names. I was part of a large line, sixty-six women. Several participants talked about their involvements in the organization through community service. This makes sense given the long, rich history of community service that characterizes most of these organizations.54 One fraternity member’s comment reflects this investment through service-related projects: I have been on the road trying to meet other men in the fraternity. I have been responsible for organizing events including social action programs and other community service events. Fundraisers for the chapter have also been important. Participants also mentioned several challenges that they faced in making an investment in their organization. The following comments reflect challenges associated with one’s experience in his or her respective organization: My experience has been positive for the most part; however, like most women organizations you have the in-fighting. The big I’s and little u’s. Struggles with power and age openly exist. Although this is present I would join again, just as I did. [PWI sorority woman] I have had a positive experience being involved in my BGLO . . . I never imagined I was having such a positive bonding [experience]. I really enjoyed the campus visibility and involvement that came along with being a part of this organization. It was, however, challenging at times to manage the involve-

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ment (intakes, committees, etc.) with other responsibilities. [HBCU sorority woman] A significant majority of our participants talked about the amount of time they invested in BGLO chapter activities such as meetings, service projects, and leadership roles. Balancing these responsibilities with their school-related activities and assignments required great time management skills and academic dexterity (or the ability to juggle competing deadlines). Several participants discussed the significant amount of time and self-esteem they invested in the “intake process” phase of membership. Perhaps surprisingly, individuals often remained silent when asked probing questions about their intake process. Participants expressed apprehension about discussing their respective organizations’ “secrets,” “traditions,” and “rituals. Many participants adopted ambiguous and intentionally abstract language that obscured certain words and phrases’ meanings when discussing the secrecy around organizational symbols and rituals. Candace’s comments, cited earlier, reflect this response. She uses ambiguous descriptors such as “positive experience,” “intense period,” and “ritualistic activities,” phrases that obscure rather than clarify such experiences. Others reflected on their intake experiences: Well, becoming a member of my organization requires endurance and commitment on the part of the individual . . . I mean, you have to want it bad enough because you’re going to be put to the test . . . [laughing] . . . and the test ain’t easy. [“James,” an HBCU student] I learned to do certain things at certain times when I didn’t think they were possible. I have limits but I can always push myself further because I have had to push myself further being that I went through those hard times before and still had to do school, take care of athletics, keep in contact with family . . . it is way easier now. James alluded to a process that requires “endurance” and “commitment” but offers little in the way of unpacking the significance (or specifics) of this socializing process. These findings are consistent with those of other researchers, who mention the secrecy that surrounds organizational customs, traditions, and codes.55

Benefits

Finally, we explored the benefits that BGLO members perceived to gain from their involvement in black fraternities and sororities. Overall, general patterns were observed in the data with respect to benefits that accrue from one’s involvement in a BGLO. We placed all responses in one of the following categories:


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practical competencies, soft skills, and leadership development opportunities. Practical competencies (PC) included, but were not limited to, written and oral communication skills, effective writing, conflict mediation, and networking. Soft skills (SS), on the other hand, included creativity, ambition, and leadership skills. The following comments reflect benefits in these two categories: I became a [organization implied] . . . and many things had an impact on my personal and professional life . . . Additionally, I learned leadership skills that were applicable to my profession and personal life. For example, I learned how to make a motion . . . in a meeting and this worked in my jobs and church conference experiences. [PC/SS] Having been an undergraduate initiate has prepared me for life endeavors as an adult. I learned the importance of collaboration, the detriment of procrastination, the value of having sisterfriends, and scholarly conversation. I felt a connection to the community more so as a member of [said organization] because of our diverse involvements. [SS] As an undergraduate member, I learned how to conduct a meeting, how to take notes, and how to balance a checkbook . . . which has come in very handy over the years; not only in finances but knowing how to be a part of the team planning committee. [PC] Beyond leadership skills, a number of participants perceived the opportunity to develop leadership skills and to lead within the organization as a major benefit of membership. Participants noted that opportunities for leadership within the organization ranged from “program chair” and “chairperson of community service outreach” to “recording secretary” and “stepmaster,” to name a few. Participants described many of these positions as highly regarded and often coveted positions of power within their respective organizations; their membership in a BGLO offered them an opportunity to assume these positions and develop strong leadership skills. These findings are consistent with those described by William Sedlacek.56 That is, increasing one’s opportunity for leadership involvement and leadership development is one of the major perceived benefits of joining a BGLO. The individuals with whom we spoke talked about the number of leadership positions available to them through BGLOs that might otherwise remain “out of [their] reach” in traditional campus organizations. As we explained earlier in the chapter, this is because many predominantly white organizations have complicated and crowded pecking orders marked by traditional hierarchical structures of position and power. Conversely, black Greek-letter organizations are commonly smaller, more intimate, and more likely to operate on a familial model.

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Beyond skills, leadership opportunities, and networking opportunities, some participants discussed the social and cultural capital they acquired through BGLO membership as a benefit: I have made many friends through this organization. I have made many contacts that may help me in a career further down the road. I have also learned how to manage my time well and to get a lot done in a little amount of time. As a member of a fraternity, I have established several meaningful friendships with other members of my fraternity—in this state, out of state, and elsewhere. Some of these people have helped me and others have opened their homes to me when I was visiting their area. Now as a member, I can share these important contacts with my friends, family, and protégés. For some participants, these relationships can be understood through social capital theory, which argues that productive relationships can lead to advantageous behaviors or outcomes within a system.57 Several participants described their instrumental relationships within BGLO social networks, which exist within their BGLO that provide access to opportunities and resources. For instance: [Being a member] exposes you to a lot of people who I normally wouldn’t come into contact with. For example, we had our regional conference and after I finish school I want to become a lawyer, then a judge . . . and I met a lady who was a lawyer during the conference so that’s a contact that I might not of gotten any other way.

Conclusion A number of important conclusions can be drawn from the findings of this study. First, individuals join BGLOs for a variety of reasons but most motivating factors hold intrinsic value. Second, individuals commonly learn about specific BGLOs through non-student members (e.g., parents, mentors, teachers) as well as through student-members they interact with on campus. Third, joining a BGLO requires significant investments with respect to one’s time, energy, and self-esteem. Such investments often facilitate one’s participation in the BGLO’s activities and rituals, and therefore their incorporation into the culture or organization. Finally, members glean benefits, and confer benefits to the group, by taking active leadership roles within those organizations. That African Americans at PWIs tended to join BGLOs to create a space that “reflected” their blackness was the only difference uncovered in this study between BGLO members at PWIs and HBCUs.58


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This study situates these relationships in an accessible theoretical framework. Socialization theory was a useful “lens” through which we viewed and understood BGLO experiences. As we hoped, socialization theory provided a means for viewing black students’ involvement as a mechanism to learn about, invest in, and join a BGLO—the very stages of socialization. Future studies might benefit by using socialization theory as both a theoretical and organizing framework (as shown here) to examine differences between college men and women, Panhellenic and NPHC groups, and even differences among NPHC groups. Other perspectives might also be applied to the study of BGLOs such as social exchange theory59 and Sanford’s60 notion of challenge and support to understand the role that BGLOs play for black students at PWIs. These represent potentially promising directions for future research. Notes 1. Tamara L. Brown, Gregory S. Parks, and Clarenda M. Phillips, African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2005); Ricky L. Jones, Black Haze: Violence, Sacrifice, and Manhood in Black Greek-Letter Fraternities (New York: State University of New York Press, 2004); Walter M. Kimbrough, Black Greek 101: The Culture, Customs, and Challenges of Black Fraternities and Sororities (Cranbury, N.J.: Associated University Presses, 2003); Lawrence C. Ross Jr., Divine Nine: The History of African American Fraternities and Sororities (New York: Kensington Books, 2001). 2. Richard A. LaBrie, Howard J. Shaffer, Debi A. LaPlante, and Henry Wechsler, “Correlates of College Student Gambling in the United States,” Journal of American College Health 52, no. 2 (2003): 53–62; Donald L. Rockey, Kim R. Beason, Eric B. Howington, Christine M. Rockey, and James D. Gilbert, “Gambling by Greek-Affiliated College Students: An Association between Affiliation and Gambling,” Journal of College Student Development 46, no. 1 (2005): 75–87. 3. Michael D. Shonrock, “Standards and Expectations for Greek Letter Organizations,” in New Challenges for Greek Letter Organizations: Transforming Fraternities and Sororities into Learning Communities, ed. E. G. Whipple (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1998); Henry Wechsler, George D. Kuh, and Andrea Davenport, “Fraternities, Sororities, and Binge Drinking: Results from a National Study of American Colleges,” NASPA Journal 33, no. 4 (1996): 260–79. 4. Nicolas J. Hennessy and Lisa M. Huson, “Legal Issues and Greek Letter Organizations,” New Directions for Student Services 81 (1998): 61–77; George D. Kuh, Ernest T. Pascarella, and Henry Wechsler, “The Questionable Value of Fraternities,” Chronicle of Higher Education 43, no. 4 (1996): A68. 5. Ross Jr., Divine Nine. 6. Brown et al., African American Fraternities and Sororities. 7. C. William McKee, “Understanding the Diversity of the Greek World,” in Fraternities and Sororities on the Contemporary College Campus, ed. R. B. Winston Jr., W. R. Nettles III, and J. H. Oper Jr. (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), 21–35; John H. Schuh,

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Vicky L. Triponey, L. L. Helm, and K. Nishimura, “Student Involvement in Historically Black Greek-Letter Organizations,” NASPA Journal 29, no. 4 (1992): 274–82. 8. McKee, “Understanding the Diversity of the Greek World,” 28. 9. Lemuel W. Watson and George D. Kuh, “The Influence of Dominant Race Environments on Student Involvement, Perceptions, and Educational Gains: A Look at Historically Black and Predominantly White Liberal Arts Institutions,” Journal of College Student Development 37, no. 4 (1996): 415–24. 10. Terrell L. Strayhorn, “Involvement Matters: Differences by Race,” Interchange 34, no. 3 (2006): 2–5; E. Michael Sutton and Walter M. Kimbrough, “Trends in Black Student Involvement,” NASPA Journal 39, no. 1 (2001): 30–40; E. Michael Sutton and Melvin C. Terrell, “Identifying and Developing Leadership Opportunities for African American Men,” in Helping African American Men Succeed in College, ed. M. J. Cuyjet (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1997), 55–64; Watson and Kuh, “The Influence of Dominant Race Environments,” 415–24; Lemuel W. Watson, Melvin C. Terrell, Doris J. Wright, Fred Bonner, Michael J. Cuyjet, James Gold, Donna Rudy, and Dawn R. Person, How Minority Students Experience College: Implications for Planning and Policy (Sterling, Va.: Stylus, 2002). 11. E. Michael Sutton and Walter M. Kimbrough, “Trends in Black Student Involvement,” NASPA Journal 39, no. 1 (2001): 30–40. 12. Schuh et al., “Student Involvement in Historically Black Greek-Letter Organizations,” 274–82. 13. William E. Sedlacek, “Black Students on White Campuses: 20 Years of Research,” Journal of College Student Personnel 28 (1987): 484–95. 14. Walter M. Kimbrough, “Self-Assessment, Participation, and Value of Leadership Skills, Activities, and Experiences for Black Students Relative to Membership in Historically Black Fraternities and Sororities,” Journal of Negro Education 64, no. 1 (1995): 63–74. 15. C. A. Tucker, “Greek Life and the Minority Student: A Perspective,” in The Eighties: Challenges for Fraternities and Sororities, ed. W. A. Bryan and R. A. Schwartz (Carbondale, Ill.: American College Personnel Association), 139–49. 16. Kimbrough, “Self-Assessment, Participation, and Value of Leadership Skills,” 63–74. 17. Sylvia Hurtado and Deborah Faye Carter, “Effects of College Transition and Perceptions of Campus Racial Climate on Latino College Students’ Sense of Belonging,” Sociology of Education 70, no. 4 (1997): 324–45; Beverly D. Tatum, Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? And Other Conversations about Race (New York: Basic Books, 1997). 18. Brown, Parks, and Phillips, African American Fraternities and Sororities, 79. 19. Schuh et al., “Student Involvement in Historically Black Greek-Letter Organizations.” 20. Brown et al., African American Fraternities and Sororities. 21. Robert T. Palmer and Marybeth Gasman, “‘It Takes a Village to Raise a Child’: The Role of Social Capital in Promoting Academic Success for African American Men at a Black College,” Journal of College Student Development 49, no. 1 (2008): 52–70. 22. Fred A. Bonner II and Kevin W. Bailey, “Enhancing the Academic Climate for African American Men,” in African American Men in College, ed. M. J. Cuyjet and Associates (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2006), 24–46.


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23. Niko Besnier, “The Appeal and Pitfalls of Cross-Disciplinary Dialogues,” in Everyday Conceptions of Emotion: An Introduction to the Psychology, Anthropology, and Linguistics of Emotion, ed J. A. Russell, J. M. Fernandez-Dols, A. S. R. Manstead, and J. C. Wellenkamp (The Netherlands: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1995), 560. 24. Roman Jakobson, “On Realism in Art,” Language in Literature, ed. K. Pomorska and S. Rudy (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1987), 25. 25. Norma K. Denzin, Interpretive Interactionism (Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage, 1989). 26. Orville G. Brim, “Socialization through the Life Cycle,” in Socialization after Childhood, ed. O. G. Brim and S. Wheeler (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1966), 3. 27. Ann K. Bragg, The Socialization Process in Higher Education (Washington, D.C.: The American Association of Higher Education, 1976), 3. 28. John C. Weidman, Darla J. Twale, and Elizabeth L. Stein, “Socialization of Graduate and Professional Students in Higher Education: A Perilous Passage?” in ASHE-ERIC Higher Education Report (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2001), 25–54. 29. Ibid. 30. Eldon L. Wegner, “The Effects of Upward Mobility: A Study of Working-Status College Students,” Sociology of Education 46, no. 3 (1973): 263–79. 31. James S. Antony, “Reexamining Doctoral Student Socialization and Professional Development: Moving Beyond Congruence and Assimilation Orientation,” in Higher Education: Handbook of Theory and Practice, ed. J. C. Smart (New York: Agathon Press, 2002), 349–80; Ann E. Austin and Melissa McDaniels, “Preparing the Professoriate of the Future: Graduate Student Socialization for Faculty Roles,” in Higher Education: Handbook for Theory and Research, ed. J. C. Smart (The Netherlands: Springer, 2006), 397–456. 32. Terrell L. Strayhorn, “African American Male Graduate and Professional Students,” in Standing on the Outside, Looking In, ed. M. H. Hamilton, S. D. Johnson et al. (Sterling, Va.: Stylus, 2009), 124–46. 33. William G. Tierney and Robert A. Rhoads, “Postmodernism and Critical Theory in Higher Education: Implications for Research and Practice,” in Higher Education: Handbook of Theory and Research, ed. J. C. Smart (New York: Agathon, 1993), 308–43. 34. Vince Anfara and Norma Mertz, Theoretical Frameworks in Qualitative Research (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 2006). 35. C. Geertz, “Interpretive Anthropology,” in Perspectives in Cultural Anthropology, ed. H. Applebaum (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1987), 6. 36. J. L. Henstrand, “Seeking an Understanding of School Culture: Using Theory as a Framework for Observation and Analysis,” in Theoretical Frameworks in Qualitative Research, ed. Vincent Anfara and Norma Mertz (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 2006), 15. 37. Michael Quinn Patton, Qualitative Research & Evaluation Methods, 3rd ed. (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 2002), 46. 38. Ibid. 39. Michael Quinn Patton, Qualitative Evaluation Methods (Beverly Hills: Sage, 1980). 40. Sharan B. Merriam, Qualitative Research and Case Study Applications in Education (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1998), 71. 41. John W. Creswell, Research Design: Qualitative and Quantitative Approaches (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage Publications, 1994).

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42. Robert C. Bogdan and Sari K. Biklen, Qualitative Research for Education: An Introduction to Theory and Methods (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1992). 43. Vince Anfara, Kathleen Brown, and Terri Mangione, “Qualitative Analysis on Stage: Making the Research Process More Public,” Educational Researcher 31, no. 2 (2002): 28–38. 44. John W. Creswell, Qualitative Inquiry and Research Design (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 1998). 45. Jan L. Arminio and Francine H. Hultgren, “Breaking out from the Shadow: The Question of Criteria in Qualitative Research,” Journal of College Student Development 43, no. 4 (2002): 446–61. 46. Nancy Scheper-Hughes, Death without Weeping: The Violence of Everyday Life in Brazil (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1992), 28. 47. Sylvia Hurtado and Deborah Faye Carter, “Effects of College Transition and Perceptions of Campus Racial Climate on Latino College Students’ Sense of Belonging,” Sociology of Education 70, no. 4 (1997): 324–45; Terrell L. Strayhorn, “Sentido de Pertenencia: A Hierarchical Analysis Predicting Sense of Belonging Among Latino College Students,” Journal of Hispanic Higher Education 7, no. 4 (2008): 301–20. 48. John Marshall Reeve, Motivating Others: Nurturing Inner Motivational Resources (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1995). 49. M. Kay Alderman, Motivation for Achievement: Possibilities for Teaching and Learning (Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum, 1999). 50. Ibid. 51. John C. Weidman, Darla J. Twale, and Elizabeth L. Stein, “Socialization of Graduate and Professional Students in Higher Education: A Perilous Passage?” in ASHE-ERIC Higher Education Report (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2001), 25–54. 52. Ibid. 53. Robert K. Merton and Alice S. Rossi, “Reference Group Theory and Social Mobility,” in Class, Status, and Power, ed. R. Bendix and S. M. Lipset (New York: Free Press, 1965). 54. Ross Jr., Divine Nine. 55. Lee G. Bolman and Terrance E. Deal, Reframing Organizations (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1991), 213–62; Lawrence C. Ross Jr., Divine Nine: The History of African American Fraternities and Sororities (New York: Kensington Books, 2001). 56. William E. Sedlacek, “Black Students on White Campuses: 20 Years of Research,” Journal of College Student Personnel 28 (1987): 484–95. 57. James S. Coleman, “Social Capital in the Creation of Human Capital,” American Journal of Sociology 94 (1988): 95–120. 58. Tatum, Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? 59. Peter M. Blau, Exchange and Power in Social Life (New York: Wiley, 1964). 60. Nevitt Sanford, Self and Society: Social Change and Individual Development (New York: Atherton, 1966).

Chapter Fourteen Commentary Martia J. N. H. Brawner

From the very beginning, authors Strayhorn and McCall peak readers’ interest with the topic of BGLOs at predominantly white institutions and historically black colleges and universities. Their chapter is based on a panel discussion of the contemporary need for BGLOs, in which they tackle the important questions of why people join BGLOs and what they perceive to gain from their involvement. Until now, little examination has been given to the contrast between student perspectives and experiences at PWIs and HBCUs. The authors do a commendable job of representing perspectives of students from both contexts and, in so doing, allow the reader to grasp the literature, theoretical framework, methodology, and background information on BGLOs. Moreover, the authors do an excellent job of recognizing their limitations of their research and methodology, while effectively utilizing data from various publications and students’ own words in order to illustrate how various issues, from student development to social interactions, all intersect with one’s involvement in a BGLO. The use of the aforementioned data, especially the efficacy of allowing students to speak for themselves, affords us great insight into both the reasons behind joining and the perceptions of benefits from joining. In so doing, readers come to understand much of the background of these students’ experiences, especially as it pertains to membership intake processes and the campus culture of BGLOs. What keeps the reader engaged is the invaluable student contributions that the authors were able to classify into segments of intrinsic/extrinsic motivations, knowledge acquisition, investment, and benefits. This typology allows us further insight into the differences between BGLO members’ experiences at PWIs and HBCUs. This chapter has undoubtedly captured a sense of why people join, what they gain, and how context affects these understandings.

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15. College Student Satisfaction and Greek Organization Membership Stephanie M. McClure

This chapter analyzes survey and focus group data in regard to how Greek membership affects student satisfaction for black and white students. This topic is significant for several reasons, including that much of the existing research on the impact of Greek membership generally does not make any distinctions by race despite evidence indicating its import.1 Available literature records important differences and similarities between historically black organizations and predominantly white ones. When organizational differences are analyzed in the context of acquired knowledge about voluntary organizations and their impact on members, we can logically expect organizational differences to moderate the impact of membership on student satisfaction. A review of some major concepts and terms related to higher education, specifically to the Greek community, provides a common understanding for the research presented. Following the review of important terms is a brief summary of relevant research on student success, Greek membership, and voluntary associations that provide the background for this study. After briefly reviewing the research design and methods, I present this work’s results, followed by a consideration of the finding’s implications for subsequent research and for higher education programming.

Introduction I refer to predominantly white institutions or PWIs. These institutions clearly vary, as some only recently removed barriers to minority student membership while others never specifically prohibited such access but historically served a predominantly white student population. I choose to follow common practice by using the term PWI rather than the term “historically white” to refer to these institutions by drawing on Peter Wallenstein: 294

Student Satisfaction and Greek Organization Membership

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The short-hand term “historically white” is misleading in the sense that at most (perhaps all) so-called “white” institutions of higher education across the South, the only “non-white” group categorically excluded during the era of Jim Crow was African American. . . . The breakthroughs of the 1950s and 1960s did not bring non-white students to white campuses so much as they brought black students to non-black campuses.2 Many Greek organizations founded by white students on college campuses explicitly articulated racial qualifications for exclusion or inclusion at some point in their history. Two national governing bodies mainly represent these PWIs. For men, this is the National Interfraternity Council or NIC. Campus organizations affiliated with this group are often known as IFC (Interfraternity Council) organizations. For women, this governing body is the National Panhellenic Council or NPC, often referred to on campus as “Panhel.” The national governing body of the Greek organizations historically organized by and for black students is the National Pan-Hellenic Council or NPHC, sometimes referred to on campus as “Pan-dash-Hel.” Not all campus-level organizations are affiliated with one of these national groups, but most are, especially on large campuses. This work’s core organizing ideas include the concepts of social integration and social capital, in particular as they relate to discussions about voluntary association membership. Social integration is a widely discussed idea in higher education, in large part due to its centrality to Tinto’s theory of college student persistence.3 Vincent Tinto hypothesized that a student’s level of social and academic integration into the campus community affects one’s commitment to his or her university institution and to college graduation. Social integration is the “extent of congruency between the individual student and the social system of a college or university.”4 Social integration is most often measured using questions that gauge student perceptions of college and satisfaction. Social capital is a concept that is widely debated and measured. Pierre Bourdieu and Loïc Wacquant offer the most widely used definition, “social capital is the sum of the resources, actual or virtual, that accrue to an individual or a group by virtue of possessing a durable network of more or less institutionalized relationships of mutual acquaintance and recognition.”5 Social capital is significant primarily because it is highly convertible. Membership in networks and institutions provides access to social capital, which the individual and/or group can then translate into other forms of capital to improve their social position.6 Thus, students’ type and level of involvement impact the resources they accrue and relationships they develop, therefore coloring their satisfaction with the institution. The overarching focus in this work is how individuals’ integration into a group impacts their perceptions of their social environment. Tinto’s concept

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of integration in his model is often critiqued as espousing the underlying assumption that minority students need to assimilate into the dominant group. As Louis Attinasi points out, integration does not have to mean assimilation.7 Assimilation can instead be understood as the development of meaningful membership within a group. Beginning with Durkheim, sociological literature emphasizes individual integration’s importance and/or necessity in some respect. As Peter Blau writes, “some kind of social association is necessary for integration.”8 An organizing assumption of this research is that the social location and character of an individual’s integration will influence that individual’s view of the world and his or her place in it. Historically, white Greek organizations were primarily social organizations in the context of a limited collegiate environment. Black Greek-letter organizations, founded in the context of a racist system of higher education set in a wider racist context, were organized as sociopolitical groups from the start.9 BGLOs on predominantly white campuses were particularly multifaceted, serving as a network for meeting basic needs and providing social and personal support within an often hostile environment.10 Most research on Greek membership’s influence on college students focuses on white students’ experiences, with mixed results. Much of this research points to Greek membership’s deleterious consequences for college student development. Such consequences include more rigid attitudes, lower moral and cognitive development, less concern for social issues than their non-Greek counterparts, extremely high levels of alcohol use and abuse, increased incidences of rape and sexual assault in fraternity houses, less exposure to people of different races, generally less open attitudes about diversity, increased incidences of academic dishonesty, and lower average grades.11 The freshman pledging process was abolished on several campuses due to such negative cognitive and academic outcomes.12 Other research identified potentially positive outcomes associated with Greek membership, outcomes connected with the overall literature on student involvement, as well as some positive post-college outcomes.13 These include increased opportunities for leadership development, higher levels of student involvement, and higher levels of post-college charitable giving and community involvement.14 Research focusing on student satisfaction, success, and persistence yield mixed results.15 Alexander Astin found that Greek membership did not affect student satisfaction and negatively affected college GPA. Outcomes associated with Greek affiliation also vary by gender, as more negative outcomes are generally associated with fraternity membership than sorority membership.16 As stated above, current literature on Greek organizations pays little attention to historically black Greek organizations’ significance and functions. Many


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studies, in fact, explicitly state that their findings cannot be generalized to these organizations. One of the earliest studies examining fraternal participation among black and nonblack students in the southeastern region of the country found that black students expressed more interest in rushing nonblack fraternities prior to the establishment of BGLO chapters on these campuses. The establishment of BGLO chapters significantly lowered the number of black students who attempted to join historically white organizations. In his relatively small study, Tillar found that white students expressed very little interest in joining BGLOs. The relatively small number of black students on these campuses contributed to higher levels of racial solidarity, as the author stated, “the bonds of brotherhood among college blacks . . . run deeper than those in most nonblack fraternities.”17 Fox and colleagues found that black fraternity members’ priorities differed from those members predominantly associated with white Greek membership, which reflects “a different Greek membership experience for Blacks and Whites.” In their study, BGLO members and their white Greek counterparts similarly depended on their peers, but BGLO members expressed more concern for cultural activities than any other group in their study. The BGLO men were also more socially conscious, liberal, and culturally sophisticated than white fraternity members. The authors’ findings “indicate that characteristics most often associated with white fraternity membership may not necessarily be applicable to Black fraternity membership.”18 The institutional context also impacts the organizations’ shape. Edward Whipple and colleagues review some major differences between black and white Greek organizations on predominantly white campuses. On most predominantly white college campuses, black Greeks provide the major social structure for most blacks on campus, both members and nonmembers alike, whereas white Greeks generally only provide social activities for their own members, guests, and members of other white Greek organizations. Black Greeks are also more service-oriented than are white Greeks.19 Whipple and colleagues found several strong negative affects associated with Greek membership, including lack of cognitive gains, negative influence of freshman pledging and Greek housing, a tendency toward conservative values and less value for diversity. They did not find such negative associations within black Greek organizations, which they speculate is due in part to their different structure. BGLOs do not allow freshmen to pledge, and research has not shown evidence of negative cognitive outcomes. At most large white universities BGLOs do not have Greek housing, nor do they show consistently more conservative attitudes than their non-Greek counterparts.20 Although

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scholars express concern about hazing’s frequency and severity within black Greek organizations, administrators also have this concern about white Greek organizations.21 Several studies focusing specifically on NPHC organizations found that participating in black Greek organizations provides students with opportunities for leadership development, facilitates involvement in other collegiate activities, and emphasizes a focus on social support, community service and postcollege professional networking among NPHC members.22 This emphasis is especially noticeable on predominantly white campuses.23 Few among the already scant number of studies on how BGLO membership impacts black students’ experiences on predominantly white campuses focus on student satisfaction. As evinced by research on white Greek organizations, Greek membership often positively affects student social integration. Such integration is particularly important for minority students at PWIs. My own previous research, involving interviews with twenty undergraduate members of one BGLO chapter, indicates that membership increases student integration and satisfaction.24 Currently, very few cross-race comparative studies make a distinction by system membership, even those that control for race. While several studies analyzed a range of outcomes primarily associated with white Greek membership, few of these studies or those on BGLOs specifically examine how membership impacts students’ overall satisfaction with their institutional experience.25 Previous research emphasizes the importance of considering variations in organizational involvement by race, particularly within a differing historical and structural organizational context, in order to understand variation within a specific type of involvement (in this case Greek membership). This brings to mind the oft-cited claim regarding early mainstream research on race and gender—that all the women are white and all the blacks are men. In this case, much of the research assumes all Greeks are white and all Greek membership is the same. Voluntary associations exist in the mid-range of groups associated with society, from primary groups like families and friendship networks to bureaucratic organizations like corporations and government organizations. Examples of voluntary associations include neighborhood organizations, labor unions, business and trade organizations, church groups, and fraternal and sororal organizations. Most of these organizations emphasize voluntary participation and relatively egalitarian principles, face-to-face contact at local meetings, facilitate important integrative tasks within a community, and also generate large amounts of political and economic activity within advanced industrialized countries.26 Much research in this area focuses either on social capital generation and social integration and/or political participation.


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This study would also be aided by research on voluntary association membership and the generation of social capital, which may contribute to higher levels of member satisfaction. While only a small amount of this research focuses on satisfaction specifically, evidence supports the possibility for both positive and negative impacts of membership, which could vary by race and organizational affiliation. General research on voluntary associations indicates that membership can increase members’ positive feelings toward both the organization and the wider community.27 More in-depth research on group characteristics indicates that these organizations’ missions and structure can differentially influence the types of social capital generated, therefore influencing the level and range of positive affect that members feel.28 Two concepts related to group membership are particularly relevant to this work: bounded solidarity and social closure. Bounded solidarity is an attitude that emerges in confrontational situations during which group members experience similar levels of difficulty and join together to create an alternative set of practices based on common cultural memory. Specifically, bounded solidarity is defined as strong in-group solidarity and norms of mutual cooperation for group benefit in the face of negative external circumstances.29 In this case, the concept is applied to a perceived “black student community’s” emergence/existence on campus. The development of enforceable trust allows for the proliferation of obligations and expectations among members that benefit those individuals. This most frequently develops in situations of social closure, defined by Alejandro Portes as “the degree to which a particular collectivity forms a group at all, as opposed to a mere aggregate of individuals.”30 Closure requires strong boundaries to exist that define in-group and out-group members. Closure may be salient for both black and white Greek organizations, determining the degree to which the membership benefits that influence increased student satisfaction accrue primarily to organization members.

Methodology The data used for the analysis presented below were collected as part of a multimethod study conducted at a large southeastern public university over the spring and fall semesters of 2004. The survey data includes student responses from 297 undergraduate students. E-mail contact directed students to a Webbased survey, with e-mail, mail, and in-person follow-ups. The overall survey response rate was 32 percent. Comparison between respondents’ demographics and those of the actual student body indicate that this sample is representative. This analysis focuses on student satisfaction.

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According to Sylvia Hurtado, student perceptions provide a more proximal (as opposed to distal) measure of the institutional environment’s impact on student experiences.31 Astin writes about satisfaction as an outcome measure, saying it “covers the students’ subjective experience during the college years and perceptions of the value of the educational experience.”32 Satisfaction is also “much less dependent on entering characteristics than other outcomes and more susceptible to influence from the college environment.”33 There is a “direct association between student satisfaction and retention in college. While we cannot be absolutely sure that satisfaction is a direct causal agent in the student’s decision to remain in or leave college . . . the strength of these associations and their prevalence across all measures suggest that one promising way to reduce an institution’s dropout rate is to focus more attention on student satisfaction as an intermediate outcome.”34 Satisfaction may be particularly important for minority students. Eimers and Pike found that minority student satisfaction with their institution’s quality was a better predictor of student persistence to degree completion than academic performance. They hypothesize that minority student sensitivity to satisfaction with quality is related to attenuated concerns among the community prior to entry. “Among some minority constituencies in the state, the university was perceived as being a difficult academic and social environment for minority students to be successful.” The authors conclude that “attention to and enhancement of perceived quality among minority students [at PWIs] may prove to be very important in to their persistence in college.”35 These conclusions reflect Joe Feagin and colleagues’ findings regarding a college’s reputation within a particular minority community.36 The presence of these feelings and how they may be attenuated within the black student community on campus will influence just how much difference Greek membership makes regarding satisfaction among black students. Specifically, a high degree of salience for racial identity and a strong sense of bounded solidarity among black students on campus, combined with black Greek organizations’ more permeable social boundaries (as compared to their white counterparts), would translate to a much smaller difference between black and white Greek students’ satisfaction. Racial identity has low salience for white students, making Greek membership more significant both symbolically and organizationally. For black students, closure potentially occurs along racial lines, while such closure occurs along Greek lines for white students. Previous research (which makes no distinction across affiliation) has found that Greek organization membership increases student involvement, which is associated with higher levels of student satisfaction.37 A review of the voluntary association literature reveals several possibilities regarding how the differences across these organizations might influence their members satisfaction with the institution.


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Table 1. Sample Descriptive Information by Race and Greek Status (S.D.) Variable

Black Students

White Students

Greek (N=34)

non-Greek (N=90)

Greek (N=83)

non-Greek (N=90)

46.6 (6.5)

44.69 (7.1)

51.8 (5.5)

46.5 (7.6)

Male

56%

30%

30%

41%

Parents attended university (one or both)

3%

14%

34%

27%

HS Racial Composition Exposure (yes)

71%

71%

33%

34%

Dependent Variable: Mean satisfaction scale score Control Variables:

Year in school Freshmen

3%

29%

22%

14%

Sophomore

12%

28%

31%

19%

Junior

26%

19%

31%

29%

Senior/Other

59%

23%

16%

38%

Social science major (including education & business)

71%

60%

69%

53%

Live on campus

38%

54%

22%

18%

Mean semester hours enrolled

14.3 (1.7)

14.3 (2.8)

13.8 (2.1)

13.5 (2.6)

Mean weekly involvement hours

15.4 (13.3)

8.97 (7.4)

9.1(7.1)

10.12(9.4)

Mean weekly study hours

3.27 (1)

2.98 (.95)

2.75 (.9)

3.1 (1.1)

Mean weekly work hours

10.7 (8)

9.9 (7.9)

4.3 (7.1)

8.9 (8.8)

Mean college GPA

2.8 (.44)

2.9 (.57)

3.2 (.47)

3.2 (.55)

Mean academic integration scale score

28.9 (5.2)

28.3 (5.2)

27.6 (6)

28.3 (6)

Mean campus climate scale score

21.7 (5.6)

25.1 (4.7)

29.9 (3.8)

29.7 (4.5)

Table 1 contains information on their demographic characteristics to better illuminate each of the groups of interest. Black Greek students are more likely than those in any other group to be male seniors. Black Greeks also less frequently had parents who attended their university. Greek students, both black and white, are somewhat more likely to major in the social sciences, business, or education. Black students much more frequently attended predominantly white or racially mixed high schools.

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Results Initial analysis of variance (ANOVA; available upon request from the author) demonstrated that the race effect on satisfaction is contingent upon whether or not the student belongs to a Greek organization—specifically, the results suggested that being Greek only affects white students’ satisfaction. These results indicate the appropriateness of a regression analysis. The variables included in the regression model include important information regarding students’ demographics and backgrounds, college characteristics, and college experiences. Previous research demonstrated that these variables impacted either student satisfaction specifically or student persistence generally. Demographic and student pre-entrance controls include gender, parents’ attendance at the university, and self-reported high school exposure to a mixed-race or cross-race student body. Student college characteristic controls include year in school, major (dichotomized by social science majors versus other majors), housing status, semester credit hours enrolled, college GPA, and average weekly study hours and work hours. Student post-entrance experience control variables include a measure of weekly student involvement hours across a range of extracurricular activities (excluding hours of fraternity or sorority involvement), and students’ perception of their academic integration and the campus racial climate. While several control variables are included based on their overall relationship to the student experience, others have specifically been shown to impact satisfaction. Prior exposure to an interracial environment can positively influence satisfaction, as can a social science or education major. Positive perception of the campus racial climate is also related to higher student satisfaction for both minority and nonminority students. Student satisfaction is also positively related to college GPA and academic integration. As mentioned previously, the dependent variable is a scale score for student satisfaction. The scale is based on student responses to twelve items (alpha = .86). The independent variables of interest are student race and Greek status. All students in the sample are either white or black, based on information obtained from the campus institutional research office. The Office of Institutional Research provided students’ Greek status, with information on their organizational affiliation confirmed through membership lists obtained from the Office of Greek Life. These variables are both dichotomous, so that the coefficients can be understood as adjusted mean differences.38 Results of the ANOVA indicated an interaction between race and Greek status. Based on these results, Table 2 presents two equations, first without the interaction of race and Greek status and the second with the interaction, both controlling for other student characteristics. In the first equation, Greek status


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Table 2. Student Satisfaction on Race and Greek Status (Equation 1) with Interaction (Equation 2) Controlling for Various Background and College Experience Variables Equation 1

Equation 2

Variable

B

Beta

B

Greek status (1 = Greek)

4.980*** (.718)

.331

2.740* (1.259)

.182

Race (1 = white)

.239 (.919)

.016

-.706 (1.013)

-.047

3.481* (1.613)

.213

Gender (male = 1)

.143 (.729)

.009

.463 (.739)

.030

Parents attend university

1.168 (.628)

.0891

.079 (.625)

.082

HS Racial Composition (exposure = 1)

.439 (.721)

.030.

444 (.717)

.030

Year in School

.253 (.365)

.038

.467 (.376)

.070

Major (Social science = 1)

.709 (.717)

.047

.646 (.713)

.043

Housing (on campus = 1)

1.015 (.890)

.0651

.042 (.885)

.067

Semester credit hours enrolled

-.098 (.142)

-.032

-.095 (.141)

-.031

Weekly involvement hours (excluding Greek hrs.)

.043 (.040)

.053

.056 (.040)

.068

Weekly study hours

.057 (.351)

.008

.184 (.354)

.025

Weekly work hours

.048 (.044)

.055

.055 (.044)

.063

Race * Greek status interaction

Beta

College GPA

.871 (.687)

.065

.827 (.682)

.062

Academic integration

.466*** (.064)

.357

.461*** (.063)

.352

Campus climate

.505*** (.077)

.369

.481*** (.078)

.351

Constant

13.618

13.7

Adjusted R2

.416

.424

Note: N = 293, b = nonstandardized regression coefficient w/ standard error in parentheses; beta = standardized regression coefficient. *p < .05, **p < .01, ***p < .001 (two-tailed tests).

positively impacts student satisfaction. Greek students’ level of satisfaction increases by 4.98 over that of non-Greek students, after controlling for many possibly salient factors. Comparing across the standardized coefficients within equation 1, this effect is smaller than those for the student’s self-reported level of academic integration and perception of the campus climate, but larger than any of the other control variables. In the second equation, the regression includes an interaction term between race and Greek status. In this regression, both Greek status and the interaction are statistically significant. These coefficients indicate that, net of the other factors, Greek membership positively impacts black student satisfaction (2.74, p < .05), but even more positively impacts white student satisfaction (3.481, p < .05).

304


These results support the contention that Greek status differentially affects the college student experience across race. The difference between white Greek and non-Greek students’ satisfaction is much greater than that for black students across Greek affiliation. Student responses to the open-ended questions provided on the survey were also analyzed for content across the four groups. Students described their overall university experience and provided any suggestions or recommendations for improving the campus and for any additional comments about the survey’s topics. I grouped responses by race, gender, and Greek status and coded for similarities and differences within and across groups, paying particular attention to the salience of race across categories as well as students’ overall satisfaction within each group (see Table 3). Student responses to the question of their global satisfaction were generally positive for all four groups. One black non-Greek male wrote, “It’s definitely been a learning experience!! I learned more outside the classroom just be interacting with various people than I did from my instructors!! Overall if I had a chance to go back and change something I wouldn’t change a thing!!!” A black Greek female wrote, “I’ve enjoyed my experience at [this university]. I’ve had the opportunity to become very involved. I’ve met new and exciting people and have also been able to experience various educational activities that have helped me develop as a person.” There was some variation in the responses to the follow-up questions, however, which indicates a need for caution in interpreting their overall responses. For instance, the student previously quoted wrote the following in response to the question regarding recommendations: “I would recommend that the University make a stronger effort to recruit minority students as well as making more facilities and activities available to the minority student.” The responses were coded across level of satisfaction expressed as well as for content of student suggestions. Table 3 presents this general information. Several summative statements can also be made regarding these responses. Within the black Greek category, men more frequently expressed satisfaction than women did (6 versus 2). White Greek students made comments covering a wider spectrum of campus issues and more commonly made positive comments. This finding is consistent with their overall higher satisfaction with the university. White Greek students often made positive comments about several issues that drew negative comments from the other three groups. Such issues include university spending on landscaping and football. For instance, one student wrote, “This place is awesome. More people should come to Sporting events. That is what makes this University stand out from others in the state. Part of the biggest decision to go here was that Sports were a major part of the social life.” While only one Greek student negatively discussed sports, several individuals in the other groups made negative comments about the issue.


305

Table 3. Responses to Open-Ended Questions Variable

Black Students

White Students

Level of overall satisfaction

Greek (N = 26)

non-Greek N = 65)

Greek (N = 54)

non-Greek (N = 65)

High

31%

51%

85%

60%

Neutral

50%

34%

15%

37%

Low

15%

29%

0%

6%

Mention of race

62%

40%

13%

15%

Conclusion After controlling for key differences in student characteristics, a differential impact of Greek membership on student satisfaction across race emerges. As predicted by these organizations’ differing histories and missions, with their embedded context within this institution, Greek membership does not uniformly impact students regardless of the organizations they are affiliated with. This is likely due to several factors, including organizations’ different sizes, the existence of fraternity and sorority houses for white Greek members, and the length of time the organizations have been on campus. Membership in a Greek organization positively impacts white members’ satisfaction. The open-ended question results indicate that this satisfaction extends to many aspects of campus life, and includes positive feelings about things that are sometimes negatively perceived by other students. This difference is likely related to high levels of efficacy and a sense of belonging associated with membership. The campus’s racial composition and racial history also likely influence how Greek membership affects the student experience. The findings indicate racial salience’s importance for students. Race is rarely salient for white students in their day-to-day life on campus, by virtue of their membership in the privileged group. This allows organizational affiliation to be more significant. Race is highly relevant for black students, both Greek and non-Greek. This salience potentially overshadows organizational affiliation and facilitates black students’ creation of a sense of community. Bounded solidarity necessarily emerges among black students on a campus with a history of racial tension where students of color experience racism in various environments. Over 65 percent of black non-Greek students reported attending BGLO events in the past. While there was not a comparable question for students attending white Greek events, information on white Greek organizations and previous research on BGLOs’ role on predominantly white campuses support the idea that BGLOs offer social events and support for both members and nonmembers in a way white Greek organizations do not. These

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organizations and their regular events provide an alternative culture for black students to participate in. This research is limited by its small, single-institution sample. In subsequent research, I hope to collect multi-institutional data, which will allow me to measure particular organizational and institutional characteristics, connect them with student experience and types of social capital, and clarify the impact of structural characteristics on student experiences. Multi-institutional data can also better provide practitioners with information about the types of institutional contexts that shape types of student involvement that best serve their particular student population. Notes 1. David Wilder and Hugh F. McKeegan, “Greek-Letter Social Organizations in Higher Education: A Review of Research,” in Higher Education: Handbook of Theory and Research, ed. John C. Smart (New York: Agathon Press, 1999), 317–66. 2. Peter Wallenstein, “Black Southerners and Non-Black Universities: Desegregation of Higher Education, 1935–1967,” History of Higher Education Annual 19 (1999): 121–48. 3. Vincent Tinto, Leaving College: Rethinking the Causes and Cures of College Student Attrition (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993). 4. John M. Braxton, Anna V. Shaw Sullivan, and Robert M. Johnson Jr., “Appraising Tinto’s Theory of College Student Departure,” in Higher Education: Handbook of Theory and Research, ed. John C. Smart (New York: Agathon Press, 1997), 111. 5. Pierre Bourdieu and Loïc Wacquant, An Invitation to Reflexive Sociology (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992), 119. 6. Michael B. Aguilera and Douglas S. Massey, “Social Capital and the Wages of Mexican Migrants: New Hypotheses and Tests,” Social Forces 82, no. 2 (2003): 671–701. 7. Louis C. Attinasi, “Getting In: Mexican Americans’ Perceptions of University Attendance,” in Racial and Ethnic Diversity in Higher Education, ed. Caroline Turner, Mildred Garcia, Amaury Nora, and Laura I. Rendon (Needham Heights, Mass.: Simon and Schuster, 1996). 8. Peter M. Blau, Inequality and Heterogeneity: A Primitive Theory of Social Structure (New York: Free Press, 1977), 5. 9. Ricky Jones, Black Haze: Violence, Sacrifice, and Manhood in Black Greek-Letter Fraternities (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2004); Frederick Rudolph, The American College and University: A History (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1990). 10. Jones, Black Haze, 2004; Paula Giddings, In Search of Sisterhood: Delta Sigma Theta and the Challenge of the Black Sorority Movement (New York: Quill Books/Delta Sigma Theta, 1988). 11. John C. Hayek, R. M. Carini, P. O’Day, and G. Kuh, “Triumph or Tragedy: Comparing Student Engagement Levels of Members of Greek-Letter Organizations and Other Students,” Journal of College Student Development 43 (2002): 643–63; Donald L. McCabe and William J. Bowers, “The Relationship Between Student Cheating and College Fraternity or Sorority Membership,” NASPA Journal 33 (1996): 280–91; Gary Pike, “The Influence of Fraternity or Sorority Membership on Students’ College


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Experiences and Cognitive Development,” Research in Higher Education 41 (2000): 117– 39; Henry Wechsler, George Kuh, and Andrea E. Davenport, “Fraternities, Sororities and Binge Drinking: Results From a National Study of American Colleges,” NASPA Journal 33 (1996): 260–79; Wilder and McKeegan, “Greek-Letter Social Organizations.” 12. Wechsler et al., “Fraternities, Sororities and Binge Drinking”; Wilder and McKeegan, “Greek-Letter Social Organizations.” 13. Pike, “The Influence of Fraternity or Sorority Membership”; Esther Thorson, Greek and Non-Greek College and University Alumni: Giving, Community Participation, and Retrospective College Satisfaction (Columbia: University of Missouri-Columbia Center for Advanced Social Research, 1997). 14. Hayek et al., “Triumph or Tragedy”; Pike, “The Influence of Fraternity or Sorority Membership”; Thorson, Greek and Non-Greek College and University Alumni. 15. Hayek et al., “Triumph or Tragedy”; Pike, “The Influence of Fraternity or Sorority Membership.” 16. Alexander Astin, What Matters in College? Four Critical Years Revisited (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1993). 17. Thomas C. Tillar Jr., “A Study of Racial Integration in Southeastern Social Fraternities,” Journal of College Student Personnel (1974): 208. 18. Elaine Fox, Charles Hodge, and Walter Ward, “A Comparison of Attitudes Held by Black and White Fraternity Members,” Journal of Negro Education 4 (1987): 521–34, 533. 19. Edward Whipple, John L. Baier, and David L.Grady, “A Comparison of Black and White Greeks at a Predominantly White University,” NASPA Journal 28, no. 2 (1991). 20. Wilder and McKeegan, “Greek-Letter Social Organizations.” 21. Paul Ruffins and Ronald Roach, “Frat-ricide: Are African American Fraternities Beating Themselves to Death,” Black Issues in Higher Education 14 (1997): 18–25; Jones, Black Haze. 22. Walter M. Kimbrough, “Self-Assessment, Participation, and Value of Leadership Skills, Activities, and Experiences for Black Students Relative to Their Membership in Historically Black Fraternities and Sororities,” Journal of Negro Education 64 (1995): 63– 74; Walter M. Kimbrough and Philo A. Hutcheson, “The Impact of Membership in Black Greek-Letter Organizations on Black Students’ Involvement in Collegiate Activities and Their Development of Leadership Skills,” Journal of Negro Education 67 (1998): 96–105; John Schuh et al., “Student Involvement in Historically Black Greek Letter Organizations,” NASPA Journal 29 (1992): 274–82. 23. Kimbrough, “Self-Assessment, Participation, and Value of Leadership Skills.” 24. Stephanie M. McClure, “Exploring the Meaning of Membership: Black Greek Men on Predominantly White Campuses,” Journal of Higher Education 77 (2006); Stephanie M. McClure, “Facilitating Student Involvement and Cross-Race Contact: The Impact of Membership in a Black Greek Organization,” in African Americans and Whites: Changing Relationships on College Campuses, ed. Robert M. Moore (Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 2006). 25. Thorson, Greek and Non-Greek College and University Alumni, as one exception. 26. David Knoke, “Associations and Interest Groups,” Annual Review of Sociology 12 (1986): 1–21; Pamela A. Popielarz, “(In)voluntary Association: A Multilevel Analysis of Gender Segregation in Voluntary Organizations,” Gender & Society 13, no. 2 (1999): 234–50.

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27. David Knoke, “Commitment and Detachment in Voluntary Associations,” American Sociological Review 46 (1981): 141–58. 28. Dietland Stolle and Thomas R. Rochon, “Are All Associations Alike? Member Diversity, Associational Type, and the Creation of Social Capital,” American Behavioral Scientist 42 (1998): 47–65; Carla M. Eastis, “Organizational Diversity and the Production of Social Capital: One of These Groups Is Not Like the Other,” American Behavioral Scientist 42, no. 1 (1998): 66–77. 29. Alejandro Portes, “Social Capital: Its Origins and Applications in Modern Sociology,” Annual Review of Sociology 24 (1998): 1–24. 30. Portes, “Social Capital,” 1332. 31. Sylvia Hurtado, “The Campus Racial Climate: Contexts of Conflict,” Journal of Higher Education 63 (1992): 539–69. 32. Astin, What Matters in College? 273. 33. Ibid., 277. 34. Ibid., 278. 35. Mardy T. Eimers and Gary R. Pike, “Minority and Nonminority Adjustment to College: Differences or Similarities?” Research in Higher Education 38, no. 1 (1997): 77– 97, 93. 36. Joe R. Feagin, Hernan Vera, and Nikitah Imani, The Agony of Education: Black Students at White Colleges and Universities (New York: Routledge, 1996). 37. Astin, What Matters in College?; Pike, “The Influence of Fraternity or Sorority Membership.” 38. Paul D. Allison, Multiple Regression: A Primer (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Pine Forge Press, 1999).

Chapter Fifteen Commentary Roland Mitchell

The Negro in America had no cultural background upon which to build the framework of a college fraternity, this should be a work for a later period. —C. C. Poindexter

The comments above represent the concerns of C. C. Poindexter, often referred to as the “precursor” to, and foundational figure in, the establishment of the first collegiate-based black Greek-letter organization—Alpha Phi Alpha.1 Poindexter’s remarks were in response to a contentious debate among the members regarding whether the then literary group, should take the steps to actually become an actual fraternity. The prevailing decision to become a fraternity resulted in Poindexter’s eventual resignation. Poindexter’s dissent was based on his belief that at the turn of the twentieth century, only four decades removed from slavery, the resulting social stratification caused by a BGLO would be detrimental to a community still reeling from the effects of slavery and accompanying Jim Crow laws. It appears that the pragmatic relevance of Poindexter’s concerns about BGLOs’ constraining cohesion among various black communities finds relevance in McClure’s chapter, despite the fact that this chapter was penned nearly a century after Poindexter’s remarks. Specifically, McClure’s chapter illuminates that African American student admittance to white institutions initially established with no intent of serving students of color is a complex issue. Acquaintance with this issue further gestures toward the realization that African American students then, and unfortunately still today, are in dire need of academic support systems. Consequently, predominately white colleges seeking to address their legacies of systemic exclusion of black students should recognize the vital role that black fraternities and sororities have historically played in supporting and positively socializing black students. McClure’s chapter challenges the generalizations made about the supposed centrality of European American norms in U.S. society; while McClure reviews 309

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Roland Mitchell

the extant literature that highlights the negative effects of participation in Greek organizations—increased levels of social isolation, alcohol and drug abuse, sexual assault, and so forth—she expands the existing literature by reporting on the differences that membership in Greek organizations hold for black students when compared to their white counterparts. Her work astutely relates these differences to the divergent histories of the development of white Greek organizations, founded primarily as social clubs, and BGLOs’ genesis as sociopolitical support systems for black students seeking to endure a white supremacist educational system. The results from McClure’s chapter refer back to Poindexter’s words and other segments of the black community who were cognizant of the possibility that the existence of BGLOs may lead to fissures between Greek and non-Greek black students at predominantly white institutions. But contra Poindexter and other critical voices, BGLOs on predominantly white campuses appear to offer social events, academic assistance, and co-curricular support for both fraternity and sorority members and nonmembers alike, that in turn brings black students together in many beneficial ways. Note 1. C. C. Poindexter, in C. Welsey, The History of Alpha Phi Alpha: A Development in College Life (Chicago: Foundation Publishers, 1981.)

Appendix

Advisory Board Members Edward G. Whipple, Ph.D., Advisory Board Chair Dr. Whipple is vice president for student affairs at Bowling Green State University. He is also an adjunct associate professor in the Department of Higher Education and Student Affairs and serves as a member of the graduate faculty at Bowling Green State University. Dr. Whipple earned his B.A. from Willamette University, M.A.T. from Northwestern University (English), and Ph.D. from Oregon State University. Dr. Whipple is editor of New Challenges for Greek Letter Organizations: Transforming Fraternities and Sororities into Learning Communities. Ronald Binder, Ph.D. Dr. Binder is associate director of Residence Life for Greek Affairs at Bowling Green State University and is the 2006 president of the Association of Fraternity Advisors, an organization dedicated to providing resources, recognition, and support for fraternity/sorority advising professionals and those invested in the fraternal experience. Daniel Bureau, M.A., Ph.D. Candidate Mr. Bureau is a doctoral candidate in Higher Education Student Affairs at the University of Indiana. He is also the 2004 president of the Association of Fraternity Advisors and is the current associate editor of The Oracle: The Research Journal of the Association of Fraternity Advisors. Jason Callaman, M.S. Mr. Callaman is an associate with the Friends Research Institute, an organization dedicated to managing the administrative details, back-office functions, and nonscientific paperwork (e.g.: Institutional Review Board, ethics boards, etc.) of various research endeavors. 311

312

Appendix

Charles Eberly, Ph.D. Charles Eberly is a professor of counseling and student development at Eastern Illinois University. Dr. Eberly graduated from Michigan State University in Higher Education Administration. Dr. Eberly’s primary teaching emphasis is in College Student Affairs and his research interests include American college fraternities, enrollment management, and student development. He is active with the Center for the Study of the College Fraternity. Laura Morgan Roberts, Ph.D. Roberts is a professor of organizational behavior in the School of Business at Harvard University. Her research identifies systems and practices that build competence, agency, and purposeful connection in work organizations. Her work has been published in the Harvard Business Review, Academy of Management Review, and the Journal of Organizational Behavior. She is a member of the Academy of Management, American Psychological Association, Society for Industrial and Organizational Psychology, and Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc. Corey D. B. Walker, Ph.D. Professor Walker is on faculty at the Africana Studies Department at Brown University. His research revolves around a series of critical investigations into the philosophical and theological problems of modern thought and political practice. Prior to joining the faculty at Brown in 2006, Professor Walker was on faculty at the University of Virginia (2003–2006), director of the Center for the Study of Local Knowledge at the University of Virginia (2002–2003), and visiting professor at the Historisches Institut at Friedrich-Schiller-Universität Jena in Germany (2002). He is author of “The Freemasonry of the Race”: The Cultural Politics of Association and the Struggle for Democracy in America (University of Illinois Press, forthcoming) and is now working on a new book project entitled Between Transcendence and History: Theology, Critical Theory and the Politics of Liberation. Professor Walker also serves as an associate editor of the Journal of the American Academy of Religion, the top academic journal for the study of religion, and is a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. Deborah E. Whaley, Ph.D. Dr. Whaley is on faculty in the African American Studies department at Saint Louis University. Before coming to Saint Louis University she was on faculty at the University of Arizona, the University of Massachusetts, Boston, and the University of Kansas. She was also a visiting scholar at the Center for Cultural Studies at the University of California Santa Cruz, and is the recipient of a grant from the Monroe Trotter Institute for Black Culture. Trained as a cultural historian, she investigates Comparative American & Ethnic Studies, Popular and Visual Culture, Black Cultural Studies, and Feminist Theory. Professor Whaley

Appendix

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is a contributor to the anthologies Afro-Asian Encounters; African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision; and Fields Watered With Blood: Critical Essays on Margaret Walker. Whaley has also published in the journals Contours: A Journal of Africa and the Diaspora, The Journal of Pedagogy, Pluralism, and Practice, American Studies, 49th Parallel, and the Trotter Review. Her first book manuscript concerns the cultural and public sphere work of a historically black sorority.

Editorial Board Members Laquite Blockson, Ph.D. Dr. Blockson is assistant professor of ethics and entrepreneurship at the College of Charleston’s (S.C.) School of Business and Economics. Blockson conducts research and teaches courses in minority-owned and women-owned businesses, business ethics/social responsibility, urban economic development, and organizational policy. A Cleveland, Ohio, native, she is an active member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc. Daniel Bureau, Ph.D. Candidate Mr. Bureau is a doctoral candidate in Higher Education Student Affairs at the University of Indiana. He is also the 2004 president of the Association of Fraternity Advisors and is the current associate editor of The Oracle: The Research Journal of the Association of Fraternity Advisors. Walter L. Burt, Ph.D. Dr. Burt is an assistant professor of educational leadership in the Department of Educational Leadership, Research & Technology at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Prior to coming to the WMU in August 2004, Dr. Burt served as project manager in the District Alliance Programs of the Stupski Foundation in Mill Valley, California. As project manager, Burt was responsible for leading school reform initiatives in the Paterson (Paterson, N.J.) and New Haven (New Haven, Conn.) public schools. From 1999 to 2003, he served as superintendent of schools in the school district of the City of Pontiac, Michigan. Burt is a former Mott Foundation Fellow, an Urban Health Initiative (UHI) Fellow with the Robert Woods Johnson Foundation, and a graduate of the Broad Foundation Fellow’s Executive Management Program for Urban Superintendents. With respect to his professional preparation, Dr. Burt holds a B.S. degree in biology from Alcorn State University, a master of arts (M.A.) degree in Educational Leadership from Eastern Michigan University, and a doctor of philosophy (Ph.D.) degree from The University of Michigan. Dr. Burt has published in numerous professional journals.

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Appendix

Charles Eberly, Ph.D. Charles Eberly is a professor of counseling and student development at Eastern Illinois University. Dr. Eberly graduated from Michigan State University in higher education administration. His primary teaching emphasis is in college student affairs and his research interests include American college fraternities, enrollment management, and student development. Stephanie Y. Evans, Ph.D. Dr. Stephanie Y. Evans is associate professor in African American Studies and Women’s Studies at the University of Florida in Gainesville. She is the author of Black Women in the Ivory Tower, 1850–1954: An Intellectual History. She has authored articles in the Florida Historical Quarterly, International Journal of the Humanities, The Griot, and Feminist Teacher. She is coeditor of African Americans and Community Engagement in Higher Education. In May 2003, she received her Ph.D. in African American Studies with a concentration in history and politics from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, and in May 2002 earned a master’s degree in the same field. Also in 2002, she completed the Graduate Certificate Program in Advanced Feminist Studies. She is a proud member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated. Dr. Evans has conducted research at sites including University of Dar es Salaam in Tanzania, Howard University’s Moorland-Spingarn Research Center in Washington, D.C., and through the University of Florida’s Paris Research Center in Paris, France. While completing her dissertation, Dr. Evans worked as assistant director for Youth Education Programs, Swearer Center for Public Service at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island. In the summer of 1999 she was a research intern at Stanford University’s Haas Center for Public Service. Her full portfolio is available online at www.ProfessorEvans.com. Teri Fair, Ph.D. Dr. Teri Fair is an assistant professor in the Government Department at Suffolk University. In May 2006, Fair completed her doctorate of philosophy in political science from Clark Atlanta University in Atlanta, Georgia. As a professor of government, Dr. Fair teaches courses in race and public policy, minority politics, urban politics, and American democracy. She also collaborates with two nonprofit civic organizations on the Initiative for Diversity in Civic Leadership, a program designed to prepare people of color to political appointments and elective office. Dr. Fair is a member of the American Political Science Association, the National Conference of Black Political Scientists, and Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated, Psi Omega Chapter.

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Elizabeth C. Fine, Ph.D. Elizabeth C. Fine is professor and director of the Humanities Program in the Department of Interdisciplinary Studies at Virginia Tech. She served as the first chair of the Department of Interdisciplinary Studies from 2003 to 2007. Her research interests include cultural studies, African American folklore, performance studies, and Appalachian Studies. She is the author of Soulstepping: African American Step Shows, Performance, Culture, and Identity, coedited with Jean Haskell Speer, and The Folklore Text: From Performance to Print. She is an associate editor for Text and Performance Quarterly. Her articles have been published in such journals as the Journal of American Folklore, Semiotica, Communication Monographs, Communication Education, Journal of the Appalachian Studies Association, National Women’s Studies Association Journal, Southern Folklore, Literature in Performance, Annals of Tourism Research, Sprache und Sprechen, and The Drama Review, as well as in numerous books. She has also produced and directed two documentaries. She received her Ph.D. in communication from the University of Texas at Austin (1978), her M.A. in Rhetoric from the University of California, Berkeley (1973), and her B.S. in speech communication from the University of Texas at Austin (1971). She was awarded a Woodrow Wilson Fellowship in 1971, and the Outstanding Dissertation Award in the Humanities from the University of Texas in 1978. In 1993 she received the Lilla A. Heston Award for Outstanding Scholarship in Interpretation and Performance Studies. Anna L. Green, Ph.D. Dr. Anna L. Green is an active member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Incorporated and has served as an advisor. She is the founding president of Sisters of the Academy Institute, and coeditor of Sisters of the Academy: Emergent Black Women Scholars in Higher Education (Stylus, 2001) and Journey to the Ph.D.: How to Navigate the Process as African Americans. She is an assistant professor of psychology, education and management. Anna earned a doctorate degree in educational psychology from Florida State University, a master’s degree in educational psychology from Clark Atlanta University and bachelor’s degree in psychology from Xavier University of Louisiana. Jeremy Harp, B.A. Jeremy Harp is a 2010 graduate of Yale University where he earned a B.A. in African American studies and political science. Jeremy has conducted research on how African Americans have influenced presidential elections since 1860 and the presence of African American males at Yale University in the early twentieth century. He is a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc.

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Ronald L. Jackson II, Ph.D. Ronald L. Jackson II is associate professor of culture and communication theory in the Department of Communication Arts & Sciences at the Pennsylvania State University. Dr. Jackson is the immediate past president of the Eastern Communication Association. He is author of several dozen articles in leading professional journals as well as the following books: The Negotiation of Cultural Identity, Think About It!, African American Communication: Identity and Culture (with Michael Hecht and Sidney Ribeau); African American Rhetorics: Interdisciplinary Perspectives (with Elaine Richardson); Scripting the Black Body: Intersections of Masculinity, Communication, Culture and Identity; Understanding African American Rhetoric (with Elaine Richardson); and Pioneers in African American Communication Research (with Sonja Givens). Dr. Jackson’s theory work includes the development of two paradigms coined “cultural contracts theory” and “black masculine identity theory.” Amani S. Jennings, M.A. Amani Sedu Jennings is a resident of the Garden State of New Jersey, originally from the small town of Willingboro and currently residing in Perth Amboy. Amani received his undergraduate B.A. in 1997 from Jersey City State College in English and four years later his M.A. from the same institution (though renamed as New Jersey City University) in urban education. Amani has taught as a high school English and journalism teacher; a middle school English and creative writing teacher; and he currently serves as the assistant dean of students at New Jersey City University. Amani is a member of the Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, currently serving as intake director for the Theta Psi Lambda Chapter (Somerset, New Jersey) and recording secretary for the New Jersey Association of Alpha Phi Alpha Chapters. Amani is also a Prince Hall Affiliated Freemason, serving as the senior warden of Mt. Zion Lodge #50 (MWPHGLNJ) located in Hackensack, New Jersey. He is also the husband of Monique Tyra and the father of three-month-old Malachi Xavier. Michael Jennings, Ph.D. Dr. Jennings is a professor of educational leadership and policy studies at the University of Texas at San Antonio. He research interests include race, emancipatory scholarship, urban school reform, and minority student achievement/resiliency in education. He is an active member of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc. Gina Lee-Olukoya, Ph.D. Dr. Lee-Olukoya holds a Ph.D. in higher education administration and is director of the Center for Student Leadership at Wichita State University. She is author of The Role of Hazing in the Culture of Historically Black Greek

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Lettered Organizations, and a past executive board member of the Southeastern Panhellenic Conference. Marcella L. McCoy, Ph.D. Marcella L. McCoy attended Morgan State University in the first class of honors program scholars, served as president for Alpha Gamma chapter, Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., won awards for her writing and a graduate assistantship to Bowling Green State University in Ohio. At her new intellectual home, the leadership skills she developed at Morgan transferred naturally to graduate school. McCoy planned fundraisers, conferences, and events for the campuses’ minority graduate student population. These efforts won her “Outstanding Service” awards from the Department of Graduate College and Ethnic Studies upon completing the M.A. in mass communication and the Ph.D. in American culture studies. Between these degree programs, she wrote for the local black press as a staff writer and features editor. The Philadelphia native’s professional appointments have included a faculty position at Hampton University, visiting scholar at Ramapo College of New Jersey, assistant director of the Honors Program at Morgan State University, and her current position as director of the Honors Program at Philadelphia University. Dr. McCoy has contributed to publications about the African American experience and diversity in general, and consults on topics in African American studies, “What Professors Expect,” and conflict resolution. Katrina Bell McDonald, Ph.D. Dr. McDonald joined the faculty at Johns Hopkins University in 1994 as a predoctoral scholar from the University of California, Davis. She now holds the title of associate professor of sociology and became tenured in the spring of 2006, the second black female ever to be awarded tenure in the School of Arts and Sciences or the School of Engineering. Dr. McDonald earned a bachelor of arts degree with honors in written communication from Mills College in 1983 (Oakland, Calif.); a master of arts degree in applied communication research from Stanford University in 1984 (Palo Alto, Calif.); a master of arts degree in sociology from the University of California, Davis, in 1990; and a Ph.D. in sociology from UC Davis in 1995. Just prior to entering the doctoral program she worked as a marketing research analyst with the San Francisco Chronicle/ Examiner and as a consultant in survey research design and data analysis at the California State University, Hayward (now the California State University, East Bay). During her time as a doctoral student she taught courses on The Black Female, The Black Family, and Marriage and the Family, and conducted research on racial disparities in infant mortality and birth weight and on maternal support among African Americans. Her dissertation, “Sister-Friends: ReCreating Maternal Support in the African-American Community,” focused on

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the challenge of addressing maternal and child health issues across social class lines. At Johns Hopkins, McDonald teaches courses on The African-American Family, Contemporary Race Relations, Qualitative Research Methods, and Introductory Social Statistics. She also serves on the board of the newly established Center for Africana Studies, as a member of the Diversity Leadership Council, and as faculty advisor to the Black Graduate Students Association. She is a member of the American Sociological Association, the Association of Black Sociologists, the Hopkins Black Faculty and Staff Association, the Hopkins Population Center, Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., and Bethel AME Church. André McKenzie, Ed.D. André McKenzie received both his B.S. and M.S. in education from Illinois State University and both his M.Ed. and Ed.D. from Teachers College, Columbia University. He currently serves as vice president for Academic Support Services/ Special and Opportunity Programs at St. John’s University, New York. His 1985 dissertation thoroughly investigated BGLOs at four historically black colleges (Howard, Fisk and Lincoln University and Clark College) from 1920 to 1960. His publications include “In the Beginning: The Early History of the Divine Nine” in African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision; and “Diversity and Student Freedom” (coauthor), in Student Freedom Revisited: New Issues and Perspectives. Dr. McKenzie is a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. Sachiel Mondesir, M.A. Sachiel Mondesir is a native of Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, and grew up in Brooklyn, New York. He attended Stony Brook University where he received a bachelor in sociology, a master of arts in liberal studies, and a master of social work. He is the youngest of seven and the first in his family to obtain a master’s degree. Mr. Mondesir has worked as an academic counselor at Columbia University and at York College, and is currently working as a college advisor with high school students in Brooklyn. He is also an aspiring writer: poet, essayist, and novelist. Mr. Mondesir is a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. Malik Muhammad, Ph.D. Malik Muhammad is a clinical psychologist with specializations in diversity, racism, and multicultural issues. He is a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Incorporated and was initiated on March 11, 2006, into the Zeta Sigma Lambda Chapter located in San Diego, California. Dr. Muhammad has an extensive background working with at-risk youth and families from low socioeconomic status. He has done research in the Department of Psychiatry at Stanford

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University and is also a published author on alternative medicine and HIVpositive African Americans living with PTSD. His dissertation examined the styles of coping related to stress among HIV-positive African Americans. In his free time Malik likes to travel and do college outreach to minority students considering higher education. In the future Dr. Muhammad would like to be able to devote the majority of his time to developing resources to assist parents and educators in removing the barriers that prevent minorities from doing well in high school and college. Katherine E. Peabody, B.A. Katie Peabody is a graduate of the University of Virginia (2010), with a bachelor of arts in political and social thought with a religious studies minor. Her research interests focus on the intersection between race, gender, and Christianity as they pertain to how women experience violence. She is a member of Pi Beta Phi Fraternity for Women. Sandra Mizumoto Posey, Ph.D. Dr. Posey is a professor of California State Polytechnic University’s InterDisciplinary General Education Program. She is a folklorist who has researched the tradition of branding among BGLOs. Bernadette Pruitt, Ph.D. Detroit, Michigan, native Bernadette Pruitt is associate professor of history at Sam Houston State University in Huntsville, Texas. Her research and teaching interests include African American urban history, internal migrations, Africana studies, race relations and ethnicity, recent United States history, and civil rights activism. She is completing her forthcoming book “For the Advancement of the Race”: The Great Migrations, Community Agency, and Work in Houston, Texas, 1900–1941 for Texas A & M University Press. A passionate and compassionate teacher, Professor Pruitt is the recipient of the 2004 Sammy Award for “Best Faculty Member Who Goes beyond the Call of Duty for Students.” Pruitt earned her B.A. and M.A. at Texas Southern University in Houston and the Ph.D. at the University of Houston. She is also a member of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority Inc. Bernice D. Ramirez, B.A. Bernice Ramirez of San Diego, California, graduated from the University of Virginia with a B.A. in political and social thought. She is currently serving as an Americorps VISTA member with Higher Achievement, an education nonprofit based in Washington, D.C.

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Jason E. Shelton, Ph.D. Jason E. Shelton is a postdoctoral fellow in the Department of Sociology at Rice University. He received his B.A. in 1998 at Kent State University. He earned both his M.A. (2000) and Ph.D. (2005) in sociology at the University of Miami. Dr. Shelton’s research interests include the socioeconomic and cultural sources of attitudinal variation among African Americans, the debate over race and class in the post–civil rights era, and immigration/acculturation processes among various racial/ethnic and religious groups. He is a fourth-generation member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity. J. Goosby Smith, Ph.D. J. Goosby Smith is an associate professor of management at California State University Channel Islands. Her previous academic posts were at Pepperdine University and Butler University. Her M.B.A. and Ph.D. are in organizational behavior from Case Western Reserve University. Her undergraduate degree is from Spelman College. She is a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated, which she joined in February 1998 (Alpha Omega Chapter, Cleveland, Ohio). Melvin Cleveland Terrell, Ph.D. Since 1988, Dr. Melvin Cleveland Terrell has served as vice president for student affairs and professor of counselor education at Northeastern Illinois University (NEIU) in Chicago, Illinois. Formerly, he served as director of minority affairs and adjunct assistant professor of educational leadership at the University of Toledo. He earned his M.Ed. (1974) in college student personnel with an emphasis on counseling from Loyola University (Chicago) and his Ph.D. in higher education administration and black studies from Southern Illinois University at Carbondale (1978). He is past president of the National Association of Student Affairs Professionals (NASAP) and has served as editor of the NASAP Journal since 1997, one of the leading student affairs journals in the nation. Dr. Terrell has authored over thirty publications. He coedited Creating and Maintaining Safe College Campuses: A Sourcebook for Evaluating and Enhancing Safety Programs. He received the 2004 NASPA Outstanding Contribution to Literature or Research Award and the 1990 Scott Goodnight Award for Outstanding Performance as a Student Personnel Administrator, NASPA, Region IV East, the first minority administrator to receive this prestigious recognition.

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Chapter Authors Reynaldo Anderson, Ph.D. Reynaldo Anderson is an assistant professor of education at Harris-Stowe State University in Saint Louis, Missouri. He has presented and published extensive research documenting the African American experience. Currently, Anderson serves as the chairman of the Black Caucus of the National Communication Association. His research and teaching interests are in rhetorical criticism, African American studies, and social studies. He is a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Inc. and 100 Black Men Inc. He is married to his college sweetheart, Dr. Denise Hooks-Anderson, and has two daughters, Zari and Lauryn. Tamara L. Brown, Ph.D., M.Div. Tamara L. Brown is an associate professor of psychology at the University of Kentucky. She is a founding member of the Pi Mu chapter of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., at Longwood College in Virginia, and she is currently a member of the Lexington Alumnae chapter. Dr. Brown brings a deep sense of commitment to this project and an awareness of what information about BGLOs would be appealing to members of these organizations. Moreover, as a university professor, her training allows us to bring a number of critical questions to the topic that might be asked by scholars who might read this book. Moreover, she is a seminary-trained (master of divinity) and ordained clergy in the United Methodist Church, as well as a scholar who does research in the area of religiousness and spirituality and their connection to psychological health among African Americans. Paul M. Buckley, Ph.D. Candidate Paul M. Buckley is a Ph.D. candidate in cultural foundations of education at Syracuse University and serves as the associate dean for the Student Life division at Andrews University. His research interests include critical race theories, masculinity in education and faith expression, and advanced student retention theory in higher education. His work with men includes fraternity advising, rites of passage programs for college men and teenagers, founding the Multicultural Empowerment Network (MEN) for men of color, and more. He presents widely at conferences, symposiums, churches, and community organizations. Edith Wen-Chu Chen, Ph.D. Edith Wen-Chu Chen (Ph.D. sociology, UCLA) is an associate professor of Asian American studies at California State University, Northridge. Her research and teaching interests include Asian Pacific American women, race and ethnicity, Chinese in the Americas, and visual sociology. She is the editor

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(coedited with Glenn Omatsu) for the pioneering teaching anthology and resource guide, Teaching about Asian Pacific Americans: Effective Activities, Strategies, and Assignments for Classrooms and Workshops. She has also previously published, “Constructing a Non-Asian Identity: Asian American Sisters in ‘White’ Sororities,” in Changing Cultures from Within: Communication and Asian American Women, edited by Elizabeth Kunimoto. She is currently coediting, The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Asian American Issues Today, with Wendy Ng and Peter Chua. Kenneth I. Clarke Sr., M.Div., D.D. Kenneth I. Clarke Sr. is director of Cornell United Religious Work. Prior to coming to Cornell in July 2001, Reverend Clarke was director of the Center for Ethics and Religious Affairs at the Pennsylvania State University (1997–2001). He was the Center’s assistant director from 1990 to 1996 and acting director in 1996–97. Ken also served as an instructor in African/African American studies at Penn State from 1992 to 2001. From 1987 to 1990 Reverend Clarke worked for the Third Baptist Church of San Francisco, initially for the church’s Ethiopian Refugee Resettlement Project and later as assistant pastor/administrator. A native of Baltimore, Maryland, Ken earned a B.A. in English from Morgan State University, a master of divinity degree from Colgate Rochester Divinity School and is currently enrolled in the Doctor of Ministry Program of United Theological Seminary, Dayton, Ohio. A member of the Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc., he serves as chaplain of the Iota Iota Lambda Chapter in Ithaca. Ken and his wife, Yolanda, assistant dean in the College of Arts and Sciences, co-pastored the Albright Bethune United Methodist Church in State College, Pennsylvania, from 1996 to 2001. They are the parents of Fatima Rose and Ken Jr. Robin Means Coleman, Ph.D. Robin Means Coleman is an associate professor of communication studies and Afro American and African Studies. She is the author of African-American Viewers and the Black Situation Comedy: Situating Racial Humor. She is the editor of Say It Loud! African American Audiences, Media, and Identity, and coeditor of Fight the Power! The Spike Lee Reader. Professor Coleman’s additional, selected publications include articles in Television and New Media, Popular Communication, Journal of Black Studies, Journal of Popular Film and Television, and Qualitative Research Reports in Communication. She is currently researching the globalization of black popular culture and how it works to redefine notions of a black diaspora. Her research and commentary has been featured in a variety of media outlets. Coleman is the recipient of the Teaching Excellence award (NYU) and of the Chatham College Alumnae “Cornerstone” Award. She holds life memberships in the National Communication Association, the

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Association for the Study of African American Life and History, the NAACP, and the Eastern Communication Association. She is a member of the National Council of Negro Women and of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc. T. Elon Dancy II, Ph.D. T. Elon Dancy II received a Ph.D. in higher education administration at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge. He has written refereed articles, book chapters, and other scholarly publications that interrogate the sociology of education. Dr. Dancy’s research agenda investigates the intersection of race, gender, and culture in colleges and universities. More specifically, his scholarship addresses African American males in schools and colleges as well as the identity constructions, pipeline issues, and environmental norms that influence, improve, and contest these groups’ retention, persistence, experiences, and socio-cognitive outcomes. Dr. Dancy’s work reflects commitment to impacting collegiate issues of access, equity, social justice, and culturally relevant pedagogy. In November 2006, Dancy was named the Emerging Scholar by the Association for the Study of Higher Education Council on Ethnic Participation. Dr. Dancy is presently visiting assistant professor of higher education at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock. Marybeth Gasman, Ph.D. After ten years in college and university administration, Marybeth Gasman received a Ph.D. in higher education from Indiana University in 2000. She came to the University of Pennsylvania as an assistant professor in 2003. In 2006, she received the Association for the Study of Higher Education’s Promising Scholar/Early Career Award. Dr. Gasman is a historian of higher education. Her work explores issues pertaining to philanthropy and historically black colleges, black leadership, contemporary fundraising issues at black colleges, and African American giving. Dr. Gasman’s most recent book is Envisioning Black Colleges: A History of the United Negro College Fund. She has also written (with Patrick J. Gilpin) Charles S. Johnson: Leadership beyond the Veil in the Age of Jim Crow), (with Sibby Anderson-Thompkins) Supporting Alma Mater: Successful Strategies for Securing Funds from Black College Alumni, and (with Katherine Sedgwick) Uplifting a People: African American Philanthropy and Education. In addition to these works, Dr. Gasman is the editor (with Benjamin Baez and Caroline Sotello Turner) of Understanding Minority Serving Institutions and Historically Black Colleges and Universities: Triumphs, Troubles, and Taboos with Christopher Tudico. Dara Aquila Govan, J.D. Dara Aquila Govan is an attorney at Riker, Danzig, Scherer, Hyland & Perretti, LLP, in the commercial litigation group, where she concentrates her practice in a

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wide range of commercial, litigation, and financial service matters and business disputes. She practices in both state and federal courts in New Jersey and New York. Govan is a 2001 graduate of Rutgers University School of Law–Newark, where she was an associate editor of the Rutgers Law Review. She is the author of “Hazing Out the Membership Intake Process: Addressing Hazing Liability While Preserving the Pledge Process,” Rutgers Law Review. She received several awards at Rutgers, including the Myron Harkavy Prize for the student showing the most promise as a trial lawyer and the Alumni Senior Prize for the student exhibiting the greatest achievement during her entire law school career and who has the greatest promise as a future member of the legal profession. Govan is 1998 graduate of Morgan State University, where she received the President’s Second Mile Award and was initiated into the Alpha Delta Chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc. Currently, she serves on many boards and continues to be an active member of the sorority. Marcia D. Hernandez, Ph.D. Marcia Hernandez earned her doctorate in sociology in 2007 from the State University of New York-University of Albany. She is an assistant professor in the sociology department at the University of the Pacific. Dr. Hernandez’s primary areas of research are gendered racism, colorism, and class as these issues impact the individual and group experiences of sorority members. In addition she is beginning research exploring the professional networking and mentoring opportunities within black sororities. Yolanda Y. Johnson, Ph.D. Candidate Yolanda Y. Johnson is a Ph.D. student in sociology at the University of Nebraska– Lincoln. She graduated from Augusta State University with a B.A. in sociology in 2001. She earned her master’s degree in 2003. Her primary research interests are race and ethnicity, crime and deviance, and sociology of education. Fred C. McCall, M.A. Fred McCall is the coordinator in the Office of Greek Life at the University of South Florida. In this position he directly advises National Pan-Hellenic Council, National Pan-Hellenic Conference, and the Unified Greek Council (Multicultural). Fred is a proud member of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc. Fred attended undergraduate at Bowling Green State University and earned his master’s degree at the University of Tennessee in college student personnel. Some of Fred’s research interests include black student success, retention, diversity in higher education, and fraternities and sororities. Fred completed a master’s thesis on the experiences of historically black and traditionally Latino fraternity and sorority members. Fred is passionate about the development of college students and particularly impacting the lives of students in the Greek

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community. Fred has presented at national conferences such as NASPA, ACPA, and NASAP and assisted in facilitating NIC’s Impact and UIFI experiences. Stephanie M. McClure, Ph.D. Stephanie M. McClure graduated from the University of Missouri in Columbia with a degree in broadcast journalism and a minor in black studies. At the University of Georgia, she completed a master’s and doctoral degree in sociology, with an emphasis in stratification. Dr. McClure’s primary research interests center on social stratification and understanding, predicting, and improving college student success post-entrance. This has led her to conduct research on quite various topics, including voluntary association membership, student engagement in and out of the classroom, and academic advising systems, some of which has been published in, among others, the Journal of Higher Education and the Journal of African American Studies. She is now an assistant professor of sociology at Georgia College & State University. Shanette C. Porter, Ph.D. Candidate Shanette C. Porter earned a B.A. in psychology from Yale University and an M.A. in industrial-organizational psychology from Michigan State University. She is currently working on her Ph.D. in social psychology at Cornell University, with a research focus in social cognition, and more specifically, goals, attitudes, and intergroup processes. She has collaborated with multiple authors on topics ranging from automatic attitudes to linguistic influences on diverse teams. In addition, she has taught a course on social cognition and given guest lectures on stereotyping, as well as music in the psychology literatures. She has been a member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., since 2003. Dwayne J. Scott, Ed.D. Dwayne J. Scott is the associate dean of students for Judicial and Ethical Programs at the University of Memphis. Dwayne’s primary role as associate dean involves establishing guidelines for the student code of conduct and enforcing the universities social behavioral policies. Dr. Scott has more than eighteen years of experience in higher education in the student service areas of recruitment, minority student retention, Greek and judicial affairs, as well as an at-risk youth program. He first began researching the phenomenon of hazing among black Greek-letter organizations in 1999, as a research project for a higher education course. It was at the conclusion of his research that he decided to devote more time for an in-depth investigation into the phenomenon of hazing among black Greek-letter fraternities. In particular, Dwayne was interested in hearing from individuals who were personally involved in the aspects of hazing, as candidates for membership and/or chapter members of a black Greekletter fraternity. Subsequently, the need to know why, led Dwayne to conduct

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his research on contributory factors of hazing among NPHC fraternities as his dissertation topic. He is a member of Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc. Terrell L. Strayhorn, Ph.D. Terrell L. Strayhorn is an assistant professor of higher education and special assistant to the provost at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, where he also serves as adjunct assistant professor of sociology. In addition, Professor Strayhorn serves as associate director of publications for the Center for African American Research and Policy. His research program centers on the condition of education for historically underrepresented groups, including students, faculty, and professional staff, with a particular accent on issues of access, retention, and how factors coalesce over time to affect success. Member of four editorial boards, Dr. Strayhorn’s work has been accepted for publication in highly regarded peer-reviewed sources including the Journal of Higher Education, Journal of College Student Development, NASPA Journal, Journal of College Student Retention, Community College Journal of Research & Practice, to name a few. He earned a bachelor’s degree in music, a bachelor’s degree in religious studies, and master’s (M.Ed.) in educational policy from the University of Virginia; he earned a Ph.D. in higher education from Virginia Tech. He is a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Incorporated. Natalie T. J. Tindall, Ph.D. Natalie T. J. Tindall is an assistant professor in the Department of Communication at Georgia State University. Her research interests include media diversity and representations, identity and power in media professions, fundraising, and health communication. She is a member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc.

Chapter Commentators Kira Hudson Banks, Ph.D., L.C.P. Kira Hudson Banks is an assistant professor of psychology at Illinois Wesleyan University. Her research and teaching interests focus on the experience of discrimination, mental health, racial identity, and intergroup relations. Martia J. N. H. Brawner, M.Ed. Martia J. N. H. Brawner is an assistant dean at Purdue University, advisor of the National Pan-Hellenic Council, advisor of the Multicultural Greek Council, and Region III director of the Association of Fraternity Advisors.

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Elizabeth C. Fine, Ph.D. Elizabeth C. Fine is professor and director of the Humanities Program in the Department of Interdisciplinary Studies at Virginia Tech. She served as the first chair of the Department of Interdisciplinary Studies from 2003 to 2007. Her research interests include cultural studies, African American folklore, performance studies, and Appalachian studies. She is the author of Soulstepping: African American Step Shows, Performance, Culture, and Identity, coedited with Jean Haskell Speer, and The Folklore Text: From Performance to Print. Derek Fordjour Derek Fordjour is an artist and filmmaker. He produced the documentary Black Sorority Project: The Exodus and is a partner in Brooklyn-based Derek & Jamar Productions. He lives in New York with his family. Michael V. W. Gordon, Ed.D. Dr. Gordon is professor emeritus at Indiana University–Bloomington, former vice chancellor/dean of students at Indiana University–Bloomington, and served as the first executive director of the National Pan-Hellenic Council. He has written and spoken widely about hazing in fraternities and sororities. Marc Lamont Hill, Ph.D. Marc Lamont Hill is associate professor of education at Teachers College, Columbia University. He is also a faculty member in African American Studies at Columbia University. His research focuses on the intersections between youth, identity, and educational processes. He is the author Beats, Rhymes, and Classroom Life: Hip-Hop Pedagogy and the Politics of Identity. Sherry L. Martin, Ph.D. Sherry L. Martin is an assistant professor jointly appointed in the Department of Government and the Program in Feminist, Gender and Sexuality Studies at Cornell University. She is interested in public opinion and mass participation in politics, identity politics, and gender and politics in Japan and the United States. Roland Mitchell, Ph.D. Dr. Roland Mitchell is an assistant professor of higher education administration at Louisiana State University where he teaches courses that focus on the history of higher education and college teaching. He has a B.A. in history from Fisk University, an M.Ed. in higher education from Vanderbilt University, and a Ph.D. in educational research from the University of Alabama. His current research interests include theorizing the impact of historical and communal knowledge on pedagogy, and an exploration of the understandings that allow educators to provide service to students from diverse cultural, ethnic, and social backgrounds.

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Caryn E. Neumann, Ph.D. Dr. Neumann is a visiting assistant professor of history at Miami University of Ohio. She specializes in African American and women’s history and has published several essays on African American sororities. Rochelle Parks-Yancy, Ph.D. Dr. Parks-Yancy is an assistant professor of management at the Jesse H. Jones School of Business at Texas Southern University. She earned her doctorate in organization management from Rutgers University. Her teaching expertise is in human resources and organizational behavior and her research examines social capital and its relationship to the careers of diverse social groups, as well as to organizational hiring and promotion processes. Laura Morgan Roberts, Ph.D. Laura Morgan Roberts is an assistant professor of organizational behavior at the Harvard Business School. Her research and teaching interests center on the construction and maintenance of positive identities in work organizations, with a special emphasis on the connections between diversity and authenticity. Cynthia Lynne Shelton, Ph.D. Cynthia Lynne Shelton is assistant professor and director of Africana studies at Kentucky State University. Dr. Shelton also serves as director of the Kentucky Institute for International Studies program in Brazil. Her research interests include the impact of women’s organizations on the international social justice movement. Shuana K. Tucker, Ph.D. Shuana K. Tucker is an assistant professor of educational leadership at the University of Connecticut. Her research interests include African American organizations, African American women leaders, urban education, and urban leaders.

Corey D. B. Walker, Ph.D. Corey D. B. Walker is associate professor in the Department of Africana Studies at Brown University where he teaches courses in philosophy, critical theory, modern theology, and religion in public life. He is author of A Noble Fight: African American Freemasonry and the Struggle for Democracy in America and the forthcoming Between Transcendence and History: An Essay on Religion and the Future of Democracy.

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Lynn Perry Wooten, Ph.D. Lynn Perry Wooten is a clinical associate professor of strategy, management, and organizations in the Ross School of Business at the University of Michigan. She also co-directs the Center for Positive Organizational Scholarship. Her research interests include diversity management, crisis leadership, positive organizational scholarship, and qualitative methods in organizational studies.

About the Editors Matthew W. Hughey, Ph.D. Dr. Matthew W. Hughey earned his B.A. from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro (sociology), a M.Ed. from Ohio University (cultural studies), and his Ph.D. from the University of Virginia (sociology). During his last year at the University of Virginia, he was awarded the prestigious Z Society Distinguished Faculty Award and was the recipient of the 2009 James E. Blackwell Distinguished Paper Award from the American Sociological Association Section on Racial & Ethnic Minorities. He now works as an assistant professor of sociology at Mississippi State University. As a relatively young scholar, Dr. Hughey has already established his name as a significant “up and comer” in the study of racial identity, raced organizations, and racial media representations. His work has appeared in top scholastic journals such as Ethnic & Racial Studies; Social Problems; Symbolic Interaction; The Journal of Contemporary Ethnography; Critical Sociology; Sociology Compass; Race, Ethnicity & Education; Humanity & Society; and the Journal of African American Studies. Dr. Hughey is chair of the Racial and Ethnic Studies Division of the Cultural Studies Association and has been an active member of Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc., since the fall of 1996. He is coeditor, with Dr. Gregory Parks, of The Obamas and a (Post) Racial America? and 12 Angry Men: True Stories of Being a Black Man in America Today. Gregory S. Parks, Ph.D., J.D. Dr. Gregory S. Parks has quickly established a name for himself as a preeminent BGLO scholar. He earned his B.S. from Howard University, his M.S. from the City University of New York (forensic psychology), and his Ph.D. from the University of Kentucky (clinical psychology). He is currently a third-year law student at Cornell University. Dr. Parks is coeditor of one text on BGLOs (African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision), and is the sole editor of another book based on BGLO culture (Our Fight Has Just Begun: The Relevance of Black Fraternities and Sororities in the Twenty-first Century), and is a coeditor of Critical Race Realism: Intersections of Psychology, Race and Law. He is also a life member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc.

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Appendix

* * * Together, Drs. Hughey and Parks have been coauthors and editors for various academic, higher education, and layman journals (Diverse Issues in Higher Education, Black Enterprise, Ebony, Essentials: A Publication for Members of the Association of Fraternity Advisors, and AURORA: The Official Organ of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Inc.) in order to drum up interest for the scholarly illumination of BGLOs’ culture, contributions, and contradictions. They have also spoke and lectured at various academic and professional conferences around the United States on the import of BGLOs and the necessity of bringing more scholarly attention to them.

Index abuse, 14, 154, 214, 238–42, 252, 256–59, 277, 296, 310 academic achievement, 97, 162–69 academic discourse, 13 Addams, Jane, 9, 51, 59, 61 aesthetic criticism, 196 affirmative action, 142, 152, 190 Africa, 117 African American Fraternities and Sororities: The Legacy and the Vision, 3 African American Fraternity and Sorority, 27, 95, 97, 101, 104, 127, 139–40, 146, 150, 153, 210. See also Black Greek; Black Greek-Letter Organization African Americans, xiii–xvii, 17, 27–32, 34–37, 41, 47, 50–51, 54–57, 67–68, 70, 73, 76–78, 82, 85, 91–92, 95–107, 114–18, 123–25, 127, 130, 136, 139–57, 160, 162, 165–70, 176, 186, 190, 195, 201–2, 210–15, 220, 225, 230, 238, 253, 255, 273, 277–79, 283, 288, 309. See also blacks Albany, Georgia, 40 Alexander v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., 263 Algiers, Horatio, 204 All the President’s Men, 185 Allen, Birtha, 274 Allport, Gordon, 166 Alpha Kappa Alpha, 14, 17, 28–29, 33, 49, 51, 53–57, 67, 115, 120, 130, 136, 139, 202, 210, 217, 230, 255–56, 258 Alpha Phi Alpha, xiii–xiv, 15, 17, 29–31, 33, 35, 38–40, 83, 86, 115–16, 118, 120–25, 130–31, 136, 168, 191, 202, 210–11, 237, 254–58, 309. See also Alphas Alphas, xiii. See also Alpha Phi Alpha

alumni/alumnae, xvii, 121–22, 141, 205, 237, 239–40, 246, 251, 274 Amazing Grace, 194 American Apartheid, 57 American Council on Human Rights (ACHR), 29–30, 34 American Delegation to the Black and African Festival of Arts and Culture (FESTAC), 183 American Manhood, 136 American Sociological Association (ASA), 8–9 Ames, James Barr, 6 Amistad, 194 Anderson, Glenn M., 37 Anderson, Marian, 17 Animal House, 201 anti-hazing, 16, 240, 251, 259–65, 267 anti-imperialism, 9 anti-lynching, 181 appearance, 212–26, 230–31 Ashburn-Nardo, Leslie, 166, 169–70 Asia, 117, 141 Asian Africans, 140 Asian Americans, 15, 140–41, 143–46, 148–57, 160. See also Asians Asian Pacific Americans, 139, 141, 153–55, 157 Asians, 143, 146–47, 150–57, 167 assimilation, 58–59, 117, 140, 152, 157, 296 Associated Negro Press (ANP), 39 Association of Fraternity Advisors (AFA), 13 Atlanta, Georgia, 35, 200 Atomic Dog, 119 Attinasi, Louis C., 296 331

332

Index

Bad News Bears, The, 185 Baier, John L., 307 Ball, Harry, 8 Bamboozled, 194 Banaji, Mahzarin, 167 Baptists, 71, 89 Baraka, Amiri, 30 Barber-Scotia College, 40 Barnett, Claude A., 39 Baron, Andrew Scott, 165 Barthes, Roland, 194–95, 197 Bates, Daisy, 34 Bazile, Robert, 254 “beast,” 102, 125 beauty, 125, 142–43, 200, 223–24 Begelman, David, 184 Belushi, John, 201 Benbow, Lillian Pierce, 181–82, 184–85, 190 Benjamin, Lois, 210 Bernardi, Daniel, 197 Best, Oliver Ryan, 198 Beta Tau, 139 bias, 15, 53, 125, 162–67, 168, 170–71, 236, 280, 282. See also prejudice Biklen, Sari Knopp, 120, 282 Billson, Janet Mancini, 123 Bingo Long All-Stars and the Motor Kings, The, 187 Birmingham, Alabama, 28 Black, Timuel, 57 Black Bourgeoisie, 38, 203, 210 Black College Wire, The, 13 Black Elks, xiv Black Entertainment Television (BET), 190 Black Girl, 183 Black Greek 101: The Culture, Customs, and Challenges of Black Fraternities and Sororities, 103, 192, 257 Black Greek-Letter Fraternity (BGLF), xiii, 95, 104, 112, 114, 235 Black Greek-Letter Organization (BGLO), xiv, xvi, 3, 27, 29, 36, 49, 67, 69, 87, 113–14, 139, 160, 162, 170, 176, 191, 210, 212, 217, 235, 242, 247, 253, 277–79, 287, 296, 309. See also African

American Fraternity and Sorority; Black Greeks Black Greek-Letter Organizations in the 21st Century: Our Fight Has Just Begun, 3 Black Greeks, xiv, xvi, 54, 82, 85, 103, 141–42, 192, 195, 203, 210, 255, 257, 296–98, 300–301, 304. See also African American Fraternity and Sorority; Black Greek-Letter Organization Black Haze: Violence, Sacrifice, and Manhood in Black Greek-Letter Fraternities, 13, 101 black nationalism, 40 Black Panther Party, 192 black power, 30, 37, 39 black pride, 142–44, 156 Black Student Association (BSA), 114. See also Black Student Union Black Student Movement (BSM), 114 Black Student Union (BSU), 148, 279. See also Black Student Association blackness, 99, 112, 153, 156, 160, 181–82, 201, 288 blacks, xiii–xvii, 3, 5–6, 13–16, 27–41, 47–50, 52, 54, 57–60, 67, 69, 73, 75–76, 81–85, 87, 95, 97, 99–104, 106, 112–25, 127–31, 136, 139, 141–56, 160, 162–67, 169–71, 176, 181–87, 190–92, 195, 197, 200–203, 206, 210, 212–20, 223–26, 230–31, 235–36, 242, 247, 251–53, 255, 257–58, 273, 278–80, 282, 284, 286–89, 293–306, 309–10. See also African Americans Blackston, Shawn A., 258 Blau, Judith, 10 Blau, Peter, 9, 296 blaxploitation, 181–82, 187 Bogdan, Robert C., 120, 282 Bourdieu, Pierre, 201, 295 Boycott, 194 boycott, 36 Boys, Boyz, Bois: The Ethics of Black Masculinity in Film and Popular Media, 131 Bradley, Tom, 210 Brady, David, 10 Branch, Carol, 13

Index brotherhood, xiii–xiv, 17, 56, 100, 106, 162, 170, 199, 247, 251–52, 297 Brown, Tamara, 3, 13–14 “buck,” 102 Bucktown, 197 Bundchen, Gisele, 124 Burawoy, Michael, 9–10 Bureau of Applied Social Research (BASR), 9 Burgess, Earnest W., 58 California State University, Long Beach, 256 California State University, Los Angeles, 258 Callis, Henry Arthur, 29, 116, 210 campus, xiv, xvi, 16, 39, 53, 69, 95–96, 105, 116, 119, 124, 131, 142, 152–53, 162, 195, 197–201, 205, 217, 220, 223–24, 226, 235, 243, 255, 260, 274, 278–79, 284–85, 287–88, 293, 295–300, 302–5 Canada, 117 cane, 119, 264 capital, 34, 202; cultural, 100, 288; gender, 100; human, 17; social, xvii, 288, 295, 298–99, 306; symbolic, 201 capitalism, 82, 104 Carbondale, Illinois, 55 Carby, Hazel, 115–16, 128 Cardozo, Benjamin, 6 Caribbean, 117 Carmichael, Stokely, 39 Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, 235 Case, D., 103 caucasians, 37. See also whites Chapman, Charles Henry, 116 Charleston, Virginia, 55 Chicago, Illinois, 33, 40, 50, 55–57, 59–60, 67 Chicago Board of Education, 50, 60 Chicago Board of Health, 60 Chicago Church Federation, 60 Chicago Defender, 53, 60 Chicago Housewife Association, 56 Chicago School Board (CSB), 56, 67 Chicago School of Sociology, 50, 52, 58 Chicago Tribune, 53, 60

333

Chicago Urban League (CUL), 50, 54, 60 Christ, 69–71, 73–75, 79, 85–86. See also Jesus Christianity, 69, 75, 82–83, 85, 92 church, 40, 60, 71–72, 74, 76, 78, 81–85, 147, 153, 202, 287, 298 Cincinnati, Ohio, 55 civil rights, xiii–xiv, 11, 14–15, 17, 27–37, 39–41, 47–48, 56, 57, 59, 116, 140, 150, 157, 186, 191–95, 202, 206, 210–11 Civil Rights Movement in American Memory, The, 194 Civil War, 9 class, xiv–xvi, 14–15, 29, 32, 34, 36, 40, 47, 99, 132, 142, 144–45, 148, 160, 190, 192–93, 197, 200, 202, 204, 213–15, 217, 223–24, 226, 230, 280 Clawson, Dan, 10 Clinton, George, 119 Cohen, Rob, 187 Cold War, 28, 124 Cole, Johnnetta B., 30 Coleman, Frank, 117 Coleman, Marcus, 122 College of William and Mary, 255 Collins, Patricia Hill, 142, 214–15 color-blind, 5, 23, 176 colorism, 27, 212 Columbia Pictures, 184–85 Columbia University, 9 commodity, 15, 211 community, xiii–xvi, 12, 31, 37, 39, 49–51, 53–57, 59–61, 67, 73, 75, 79–80, 82, 85, 99–100, 104–5, 112, 114, 116–17, 119, 122–24, 127, 140–41, 143–44, 149, 151, 156, 160, 162, 170, 211, 224–25, 266, 273, 278, 287, 294–96, 298–300, 305, 309–10 community service, 14, 16, 31, 34, 47, 60, 83, 87, 142–43, 151–52, 162, 199, 213, 217, 222, 251–52, 267, 283, 285, 287, 298 Comte, Auguste, 9 Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), 30, 58 Conner, Bull, 28 consciousness, 13, 29, 34, 57, 82, 98, 106, 145, 151, 155, 157 consumerism, 206 Cooper, Oscar, 117

334

Index

Corbin, Arthur, 7 Cornell University, xiv, 116 Correll, Joshua, 169 Cotton Comes to Harlem, 183 Countdown at Kusini, 181–87 Cox, Oliver, 52 Crenshaw, Anthony M., 265–66 Critical Legal Studies (CLS), 8 Critical Sociology, 10 criticism, 27, 36, 67, 71, 84, 86, 196, 223 Crocker, Jennifer, 122 Cross’s Nigresence Theory, 99 Crump, William, 42, 117 culture, 13, 15, 47, 51, 53, 81, 91, 98, 100, 103–4, 113–14, 118–19, 122–25, 131, 142, 145, 154–55, 183, 192, 194, 196–97, 203–4, 210, 212–13, 215, 225, 255–57, 265, 274, 284, 288, 293, 306 “culture shock,” 123 Curry, Braylon, 258 Dancy, T. Elon, II, 14 dark-skin, 142, 164 Davis, Angela, 142 Davis, Michael, 258 Davis, Myra, 54 Davis, Ossie, 181–85 de Saussure, Ferdinand, 118 Death of White Sociology, 10 DeDantis, Alan D., 122 Dee, Ruby, 182–83, 185–86 Deegan, Mary Jo, 50–53 Delta Sigma Theta, 15, 29, 30–31, 33–35, 40–41, 54, 60, 74–75, 78, 140, 168, 181–87, 190, 197, 210, 221, 256, 258. See also Deltas Deltas, 60, 133–35, 185, 197. See also Delta Sigma Theta democracy, 5, 50–51, 54, 91, 206 Democratic Party, 30 desegregation, 29–31, 34, 40 Detroit, Michigan, 28 Detroit Emergency Relief Fund, 35 Devine, Patricia, 165, 170 Dewey, John, 50–51 Dickinson, Gloria H., 13, 118, 122 discrimination, 29–30, 32, 38, 116, 125, 160, 176, 214, 278

Diverse Issues in Higher Education, 13 diversity, 92, 106, 190, 296–97 Divine Nine, 83, 86, 128, 167. See also NPHC DMX, 119 dog, 28, 119, 128–29, 131 domination, 10, 101, 120, 194, 214 Douglas League, 60 dress codes, xv–xvi Dreyfuss, Joel, 185 Drumline, 195 Du Bois, W. E. B., 9, 17, 29, 116, 191–92 Duncan, Otis Dudley, 9 Durkheim, Emile, 8, 296 East Indian, 141 Ebony Magazine, 13 economics, 14, 17, 28, 36, 47, 73, 87, 96, 142, 152, 167, 181, 190, 195, 202, 204–5, 224, 253, 298 “educated gangs,” 13, 192 education, xiii, xv, 4–5, 7, 10, 29, 31–32, 34, 36–39, 41, 50–51, 54, 56–57, 59–61, 67, 96, 99, 100, 112–15, 120, 130, 185, 187, 195, 197–99, 201, 203–5, 210–12, 222, 226, 235–38, 250, 253, 255, 257, 268, 274, 278, 280, 283–84, 294–96, 300–302, 304 egalitarianism, 163–64, 298 Egyptian, 118, 122 Eimers, Mardy T., 300 Eisenhower, Dwight, 29, 31 Elon University, 124 empiricism, 50 equality, xv, 10, 30–31, 33, 35, 51, 58–59, 112, 142, 145, 148, 150, 157, 160, 193–94, 202, 253 Essentials, 13 Ethiopian, 183 Europe, 13, 85, 117–18, 141, 144, 148, 150, 152 exclusion, xiv–xvi, 47, 102, 190, 295, 309 Facebook, 130, 167, 267 fair housing, 30 faith, 6, 69–87, 120, 283 Farmer, James, 39 Feagin, Joe R., 214, 300 Feelings Thermometer, 168

Index fellowship, 78, 253, 265–66 femininity, 101, 122–23, 127, 131, 239 feminism, 50–51, 55, 67 Fenstermaker, Sarah, 223 Ferrell, Will, 201 Filipina, 141, 143, 148, 151–53 Film of Memory, The, 194 Fisher, Walter, 196 Fisk University, 124, 263–64 Flack, Roberta, 182 Flemmings, George, 31 Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University, 124 football, xvi, 36, 165, 204, 304 formalism, 4–5, 7, 23 Fort Valley State College, 36 Foucault, Michel, 13 4 Little Girls, 194 Fox, Elaine, 297 Foxx, Red, 190 fraternity, xiii–xiv, 13–14, 16, 31–33, 35–37, 39–41, 71, 73–75, 80, 83, 86, 95–97, 99– 106, 115–19, 122–31, 141–42, 168, 191–92, 195–99, 204–6, 210, 235–40, 243–47, 251, 254–57, 259–63, 277, 282, 284–85, 288, 295–97, 302, 305, 309–10 Frazier, E. Franklin, 27, 38–40, 203, 210 freedom, 32–35, 39, 41 Freedom Song, 194 Freeman, Al, Jr., 183 Freeman, Frankie M., 34 Gaertner, Samuel, 164 Gamma Phi Alpha, 139, 142, 144 gang, 95, 102, 106, 147, 192 Gans, Herbert, 10 garment workers, 156 Gasman, Marybeth, xiv, 14, 48 Gault, Charlayne Hunter, 182 gay people, 101, 122–23, 127, 129, 131. See also homosexuality; nonheterosexuals gender, xv, 14, 30, 99–101, 103, 106, 112–13, 119, 123, 136, 142, 145, 152, 160, 193, 195, 197, 213–15, 218, 223–26, 296, 298, 302–4 gender studies, 136, 152 Gender Talk, 30 Get on the Bus, 194 Ghosts of Mississippi, 194

335

Gibson, Willie, 35 Giddings, Paula, 34–35 Gilliam, Dorothy, 195 Giovanni, Nikki, 182 Girl Friends, Inc., 253 Giroux, Henry, 113 Glory, 194 Goff, Philip A., 125 Goffman, Erving, 122 Goldwater, Barry, 35 Gone With the Wind, 200 Good, Meagan, 199 Gordon, E. T., 130 gorilla, 124–25 Graduate Record Examination (GRE), 169 Grainge, David, 194 Great Depression, 17 Greece, 101 greek life, xvi, 68, 82, 200, 212, 223, 225, 235, 256, 302 Green, Loraine Richardson, 14, 49–61, 67 Green, Wendell, 57 Greenwald, Anthony, 164, 166 Grossberg, Lawrence, 113 guerilla, 124 Guy-Sheftal, Beverley, 30 Habermas, Jürgen, 13 Hamer, Fannie Lou, 191 Hare, Nathan, 28 Harlem Renaissance, 17 Harper, Shaun R., 115 Harris, Frank, 115 Harris, Joel, 254, 257 Harris, Keith M., 131 Harris, La Donna, 140 Harris, Robert L., Jr., 29, 36 Harvard Law Review, 7 Harvard University, 6 Haslam, Nick, 124 Hawaiian, 141, 153–54, 156 Hays, Sharon, 10 hazing, xiii, xv–xvi, 4–5, 11–16, 23–24, 27, 49, 102, 115, 135–47, 182, 192, 199, 206, 251–68, 273–74, 277, 298. See also “on line”; paddle; pledging Hazing Reader, The, 13

336

Index

Head Start, 142 health, 31–32, 35, 40, 55, 60, 78, 97, 104, 131, 176, 222, 253 hegemonic masculinity, 100–101, 122–23, 126–27, 130 heritage, 34, 141, 148, 150, 192, 203, 206 heterosexual, 101, 122–23, 127, 129, 130 High, Kristin, 258 Higher Learning, 194 Hires, Justin, 198 Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCU), 16, 103, 117, 191, 195, 197–98, 201, 206, 278–83, 285–88, 293 history, 9, 17, 27–30, 51–53, 68–69, 73, 81–82, 85, 87, 104, 117, 121, 124–25, 127, 136, 140, 146, 150, 154, 171, 181–82, 190–94, 198–99, 202–3, 206, 211, 236, 238–39, 243, 253, 255, 257, 265, 268, 278, 283–85, 295, 305 Hochschild, Arlie, 213, 216 Hoffman, Mary F., 120 Hollywood, 182, 187, 191, 193–95, 199 Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 6 homophobia, 101, 123, 206 homosexuality, 102, 123, 127 Hoover, Herbert, 9 hop, 74, 121. See also step-show; stroll Horne, Lena, 182 Houston, Charles Hamilton, xiii Howard University, 28, 36, 38, 53, 117, 181, 183 Huey P. Newton Story, A, 194 Hughes, Langston, 17 Hughey, Matthew W., 23–24, 210–11 Hull House, 51–52, 59 Hunter, Margaret, 214–15 Hurston, Zora Neale, 17 Hurtado, Sylvia, 300 identity, xv, 13–15, 51, 78, 95–99, 101–4, 112–13, 115, 117–20, 122–25, 129–32, 136, 146, 148–49, 152–56, 160–62, 169–70, 191–94, 200–201, 206, 211, 214–15, 218, 220, 224, 231, 300 identity management, 123 ideology, 15, 49, 57, 91, 125, 130, 149, 156, 192, 203, 215

imagery, 15, 47, 95, 100–101, 104–6, 118–19, 121, 123–25, 128–29, 131, 136, 150, 166, 171, 181–82, 192, 195, 200–202, 211–20, 224–25, 230–31, 240 immigration, 85 implicit association, 125, 166–67 Implicit Association Test (IAT), 163 Improved Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks of the World, xiii inclusion, 3–6, 295 Indiana University, xiv, 116–17, 274 inequality, 10, 28, 112, 142, 148, 150, 157, 159–60, 202, 215–16, 218 Institute for Social and Religious Research (ISRR), 9 Institutional Review Board (IRB), 70 instrumentalism, 5 integration, xv, 30–32, 34, 40, 57–58, 67, 139, 295–96, 298, 301–3 intellectualism, 112, 116, 130 Inter Fraternity Council (IFC), 295 Iota Phi Lambda, 40 Iota Phi Theta, 168, 237 “Ivory Tower,” 3 Ivy Leaf, 49, 54 Ivy Leaf Pledge Club, 255 Jackson, Jesse, 80 Jackson, Ronald L., 125 James, LeBron, 124 James, William, 50 Japanese people, 141, 144–45, 148, 150, 152–53, 155–56 Jena Six, 17 Jesus, 69–71, 73–75, 78–80, 82–83, 85–86, 181. See also Christ Jet Magazine, 39 Jew, 33, 60, 85, 167 Jim Crow, 17, 28, 32, 58, 116, 210, 295, 309 Johnson, Bob, 190 Johnson, James Weldon, 17 Johnson, Lyndon B., 31 Johnson, Mordecai, 36 Johnson, Yolanda Y., 14, 67 Johnson Products, 186 Jones, Eugene Kinckle, 116 Jones, Ricky L., 13, 101–2, 105, 122 Jordan, Barbara, 185

Index Jost, John, 167 Judy Davis bone marrow program, 142 justice, 4, 10, 68, 73, 82, 85, 193, 253, 283 Kappa Alpha Nu, 117 Kappa Alpha Psi, 29, 30, 32, 38, 55, 115–20, 125–26, 130–31, 136, 168, 210, 237, 258–61, 263. See also Kappas; nupe Kappa Phi Kappa, 139, 144, 153–54 Kappas, 30, 32, 126–27, 131, 259–64. See also Kappa Alpha Psi; nupe Karenga, Maulana, 30 Kelley, George Biddle, 116 Kennedy, John F., 33, 60 Kenner v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., 259–60, 263 Kierkegaard, Søren, 194 Kilson, Martin, 210 Kimbrough, Walter, 96, 103, 105, 123, 241, 243, 247, 257, 265–66, 277–79 King, Coretta Scott, 49, 202 King, Marion, 40 King, Martin Luther, Jr., 34, 41, 86–87, 142, 190–91, 202, 211 King Kong, 124 Kongi’s Harvest, 183 Koreans, 141, 146, 148, 150–51, 153, 155 Kuh, George, 278 Ladebo, Ladi, 183–86 Ladner, Joyce, 10 Lagos, Nigeria, 183 Lamar University, 254 Langdell, Christopher Columbus, 6–7 language, 83–84, 91–92, 118, 121, 124, 127, 273, 286 Lasswell, Harold, 7 law, 7–8, 13–14, 28–29, 31–33, 36–37, 78–79, 112, 192, 235, 241, 252–54, 258, 265–66, 268, 273, 288, 309 Law and Society Movement (LSM), 8 Lawrence, Paul F., 37 Lazarsfeld, Paul, 9 leadership, 12, 16, 27–28, 30, 36–38, 50, 54, 61, 67–68, 75, 105, 112, 119–20, 124, 145, 184, 211–12, 215, 218, 236, 251–52, 258, 264, 267, 278–79, 286–88, 296, 298 League of Women Voters (LWV), 60

337

Lee, Alfred McLung, 10 Lee, Spike, 190, 195, 199 Legal Formalism, 5, 7 Legal Realism, 5–8 Lenin, Vladimir I., 192 Lewis, John, 41 Liberia, 183 light-skinned people, 143, 149–50 Lincoln University, xiii Lipset, Seymour Martin, 9 Lipsitz, George, 197 literacy, 11, 84, 211 literary and debating societies, 116 litigation, xiii–xiv, 12, 273–74 Little Rock, Arkansas, 34 Little Rock Central High School, 34 Littleford, Peter, 79 Livingston, Robert W., 166 Llewellyn, Karl, 7 Locke, Alain Leroy, 17 Lofland, John, 120 Long, Judy, 51 Loraine Green Street, 55 Love, Edgar, 117 Lyman, P., 101 Lynd, Robert, 9–10 machismo, 131 Majors, Barbara, 122 Majors, Richard, 123 Malcolm X, 194 Malon, John, 196 Mandingo, 187 manhood, 100, 102–6, 112, 115–17, 123, 128, 130–31, 136, 265 Marable, Manning, 114 market, 11, 83, 182, 185 Marriageable Male Pool Index (MMPI), 55 Marriageable Male theory, 52 Marshall, Thurgood, xiii–xiv, xvi, 41, 211, 255 Marx, Karl, 8, 10 masculinity, 14, 95–96, 100, 112–13, 119, 122–23, 126–31, 136 Mason, Herman “Skip,” 255 Matthews, Darryl, 237 McComb, Mississippi, 35 McDougal, Myer, 7

338

Index

McEwen, M. K., 98 McGhee, Nancy, 39 McLaughlin, John, 164 McNamme, Stephen J., 204 McNeil, Alvin J., 36 Membership Intake Process (MIP), 5, 11–12, 16, 23, 69, 142, 145, 171, 213, 216, 218, 220, 222, 235–36, 238–42, 244–47, 251–54, 257–60, 263, 265–68, 274. See also hazing; “paper”; pledging memory, 15, 53, 191–94, 197, 299 Memory and Popular Film, 194 meritocracy, 203–4 Meritocracy Myth, The, 204 Merton, Robert, 9 metrosexuality, 127 Miller, Robert K., Jr., 204 Mills, C. Wright, 9, 11 minority, xiv–xvi, 31, 67, 140, 142, 146–47, 149–52, 154, 156–57, 160, 167, 217, 221, 223, 226, 278–79, 294, 296, 298, 300, 302, 304 minstrel show, 124 Mississippi, 33, 35 Mississippi Burning, 194 Mississippi Health Care Project, 55, 60 Mitchell, Clarence, Jr., 40 modern racism scale, 168 modernity, 9, 200 Monteith, Sharon, 202 Moore, Parlett, 32 Morehouse College, 83, 190, 254 Morial, Ernest N., 31 Morris, Greg, 182, 185–86 Morrison v. Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., 260–61, 263–64 motivation, 16, 87, 139, 163, 223, 277, 282–84, 293 Mould, Tom, 200 Mu Gamma Xi, 198 Murray, Nathaniel Allison, 116 Museum of African Art, 185 Muslims, 85 Mussolini, Benito, 183 Myrdal, Gunnar, xvi MySpace, 267 mythology, 192, 210

narrative method, 196 National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), xiii–xiv, xvi, 30–31, 55, 58, 182, 192, 211 National Council of Catholic Women (NCCW), 33 National Council of Jewish Women (NCJW), 33 National Council of Negro Women (NCNW), 33, 114 National Greek Leadership Conference (NGLC), 258 National Interfraternity Council (NIC), 295 National Panhellenic Council (NPC), 295 National Pan-Hellenic Council (NPHC), 11, 97, 120, 130, 141, 216, 228, 237, 254, 257, 267, 273–74, 278, 289, 295, 298 National Urban League (NUL), 30 Native Americans, 140–41, 150–51 Negro American Labor Council (NALC), 58 neoliberalism, 11, 202–3, 206 network, 112, 114–15, 121, 196, 205, 217, 279, 287–88, 295–96, 298 New York, New York, 55 New York Times, 95, 185 New York University, 184 Newsom, Lionel H., 40 Newton, Huey P., 191–92 Ne-Yo, 197–98 Nicholaus, Martin, 9 Nichols, Larry, 10 Nielsen, Francois, 10 Nixon, Richard, 31–32, 186 Noble, Jeanne, 34 nonheterosexuals, 102–3 North Carolina, 40, 146, 254 North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University, 35 Northern District Association of Women (NDAW), 59 Northwestern University, 124 nupe, 118, 126. See also Kappas; Kappa Alpha Psi

Index Oakley Training School for Delinquents, 35 Obama, Barack, 190 Obama, Michelle, 230–31 Office of Institutional Research, 302 Ogburn, William, 9 Ogle, Robert Harold, 116 Old School, 201 Omega Psi Phi, xii, 14, 17, 29–30, 33, 39, 80, 115, 117, 119–20, 127–31, 136, 168, 237, 254, 258. See also Omegas; Q Omegas, 33, 129. See also Omega Psi Phi; Q 100 Black Men, 114, 253, 321 “on line,” 145, 154–55. See also hazing; pledging Orient, The, 101 othering, 215, 218, 230 Oxford, Pennsylvania, xiii Pacific Coast University, 139–41 Packer, Will, 191, 210 paddle, 264 Padulo, Kim, 256 Pan-Africanism, 9 “paper,” 243–44. See also Membership Intake Process paraphernalia, 75, 77, 191, 220, 225, 262–63, 268 Parent Teachers Association (PTA), 56 Park, Robert E., 52, 58–59 Parks, Gregory S., xvii, 3, 15, 23–24, 124 Parks, Rosa, 41, 191, 202 Parsons, Talcott, 9 patriarchy, 101, 104, 119, 123, 130. See also sexism Payne, Ethel, 182 Perspectives, 13 Peterson, Esther, 140 phenomenology, 236 Phi Beta Kappa, 255 Phi Beta Sigma, 17, 30–33, 36–37, 74, 115, 168, 237, 256, 258–59. See also Sigmas Philander-Smith College, 227 philanthropy, 39, 162 philosophy, 3–4, 7, 51, 91 Pi Zeta Mu, 139, 142–44, 153

339

Pike, Gary R., 300 Playboy Enterprises, 119 Pledge Reform Task Force, 266 Pledging, 5, 11–13, 15–16, 115, 198, 200, 236–39, 242–47, 251, 253–58, 260–62, 264–66, 268, 273–74, 296–97. See also hazing; Membership Intake Process; “on line” Poindexter, C. C., 309–10 Poitier, Sidney, 187 political science, 7 politics, 7–8, 10, 14, 28, 91, 181, 230 poll tax, 17, 30 polytheism, 69–84 Poor Peoples Movement, 192 Portelli, Alessandro, 121 Portes, Alejandro, 299 Posey, Sandra, 13 post-racial society, 5, 23 Pound, Roscoe, 7 poverty, 9, 34, 36–38, 84, 116, 204, 214 Powell, Adam Clayton, 211 Powell, Bob, 185 power, 14, 16, 24, 30, 33, 36–37, 39, 47, 58, 78, 81, 96–97, 102–3, 113, 130, 148–49, 156, 160, 182–83, 187, 194, 212, 214–15, 218–20, 223–24, 260, 262, 278, 282–85, 287 pragmatism, 50–51, 59, 61, 67 Predominately White Institutions (PWIs), 16, 201, 217–18, 279–81, 284– 85, 288–89, 293–95, 298, 300, 309 pregnancy, 84 Price, Leontyne, 182 Prince Hall, xiii–xiv privilege, 32, 36–37, 57, 100, 136, 147, 150, 203, 205, 305 probate, 141, 266, 268 psychology, 266 Public Sociologies Reader, The, 10 public sociology, 5, 8, 10–11, 14 Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century, 10 Public Sociology: The Contemporary Debate, 10

340

Index

Q, 122. See also Omega Psi Phi; Omegas Quander, Nellie, 54, 60–61 R. R. Donnelly Brothers, 54 Raby, Albert, 40 race, xiii, xv, 5, 15, 32, 35, 52, 57–60, 68, 91–92, 99–100, 103, 106, 112, 116–17, 119, 122, 125, 128, 139–40, 142–43, 147–50, 152, 156–57, 160, 163–71, 176, 192–94, 197, 206, 214, 223, 294, 296, 298–99, 302–5 race relations, 52, 58–59, 61, 149–50, 152, 157, 164, 176 race riot, 35 racism, 15, 28, 33–34, 37, 39–40, 47, 82, 85, 100, 102, 116, 119, 124–25, 130, 136, 139, 146, 148, 150–52, 156–57, 160, 168, 176, 193, 202, 210–11, 214, 218, 224–25, 305 Raiford, Leigh, 194 Randolph, A. Philip, 191 realism, 4–8, 23, 35 Recent Social Trends in the United States, 9 Reconstruction era, 17, 104, 114 Reese, Pamela, 235 regression analysis, 302–3. See also statistics Reisser, L., 97 religion, 14, 70–73, 76, 81–82, 85, 87, 91–92 Religion in the Lives of African Americans, 73 Republican Party, 30, 35 resistance, 15, 30, 67, 99, 154, 156–57, 192, 194, 206, 213 responsibility, 30, 36, 57, 99, 192, 224, 231 Revenge of the Nerds, 195 Rhoads, Robert, 100 Richmond, Douglas, 237 Ritual, xv, 8, 69, 79, 83, 86, 91, 101–2, 123, 129–30, 142, 211, 219, 235–36, 241, 247, 268, 285–86, 288. See also tradition “Roaring Twenties,” 9 Roberts, Laura, 3 Rockefeller Foundation, 9 Roosevelt, Eleanor, 139 Rorty, Richard, 51 Rosa Parks Story, The, 194 Rosewood, 194

Rotundo, E. Anthony, 136 Routt, William D., 194 Rumford, W. Bryon, 35 Saafir, Kenitha, 258 sacred, 6, 81–82, 101 “sambo,” 102 Savannah State University, 124 Save the Last Dance, 196 Schleifer, Jay, 237 scholarship, xi, xvi, 3, 5, 8, 10–11, 13, 16, 23, 49, 54, 68, 87, 97, 103, 105, 117, 139–40, 181, 204, 212, 251–53, 264–65, 283 School Daze, 115, 195, 199 Schuh, John H., 247 Schwalbe, Michael, 223 Sears, David O., 125 secular, 80–83, 85, 87, 91 Sedlacek, William, 287 Segregation, xiv, 5, 28–29, 32, 85, 116, 139, 149, 194, 278 Seigfried, Charlene, 51 “separate but equal,” 59 Sexism, 30, 47, 193, 214. See also patriarchy SGRho, 220. See also Sigma Gamma Rho Short, Columbus, 191, 197 Sigma Gamma Rho, 29, 31, 35, 75, 168, 222. See also SGRho Sigma Pi Phi, 83 Sigmas, 37. See also Phi Beta Sigma sisterhood, 145, 152, 155, 162, 170, 213, 219–20, 230, 283 Skocpol, Theda, xi, xvii, 202 Small, Albion W., 58 Smelser, Neil, 9 Smith, Charles, 28 Smith, Dorothy, 10 Smith, Keri Iyall, 10 Snell, Joseph, 258 social closure, 299 social conflict theory, 8 social exchange theory, 289 Social Forces, 10 social forces, 202 Social Movements, 195 Social Problems, 9, 10 social problems, 9, 202 social reform, 36

Index socialization, 99, 123, 220, 280, 284–85, 289 Society for the Study of Social Problems (SSSP), 9 sociobiography, 50–51 sociological imagination, 9 sociological jurisprudence, 7 sociology, 4, 5, 7–11, 14, 23, 49–54, 56, 58–59 Sociology and Law Program, 8 solidarity, xiv, xvi, 47, 83, 91, 101, 219, 297, 299, 300, 305 Sony Pictures, 191 sorority, 14–16, 28, 31, 34, 36, 40–41, 54– 56, 67, 71, 73–75, 80, 82, 83, 87, 118–19, 139–46, 150–56, 168, 181–86, 210, 212, 213–25, 230–31, 237, 253, 255–57, 277, 282, 284–86, 296, 302, 305, 310 Soul Vengeance, 187 South Carolina State, 124 Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), 30 Southern Methodist University, 258 Soviet Union, 28 Soyinka, Wole, 183 Sparkle, 185 Sphinx Club, 118, 122, 255 spirituality, 70, 83, 99, 106 St. Louis, Missouri, 55 Starz, 196 Statistics, 6, 9, 318. See also regression analysis Steele, Claude M., 122 Step Up, 196 step-show, 75, 77, 119, 121, 126, 129, 142, 192, 197–200, 203, 205–6, 253. See also hop; stroll stereotype, 14, 99, 104, 106, 114, 124–25, 128–29, 131, 136, 147, 156, 164–71, 176, 181, 200, 212–13, 215, 217, 221, 225, 230, 279 Stewart, Bennett M., 33 stigma, 115, 122–23, 130–32, 150, 230, 243 Stomp the Yard, 15, 115, 191–93, 195–97, 200–201, 203–5, 210–11 Stouffer, Samuel, 9 stripping, 129 stroll, 121. See also hop; step-show

341

structural functionalism, 8 Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), 58 student satisfaction, 16, 294, 296, 298– 300, 302–3, 305 Sturken, Marita, 193 suffrage movement, 54, 253 Sunday School, 153 superiority, 149, 157, 218 Sutton, Michael, 241, 278 Swan, Thomas, 7 symbolic interactionism, 8 taboos, 15 Take the Lead, 196 Talented Tenth, 29, 59 Tandy, Vertner Woodson, 116, 255 Tatum, Beverly, 279 Taxi Driver, 185 Taylor, Lynnette, 186 Tennessee State University, 254 Thatcher, Margaret, 203 Theta Nu Theta, 191–92, 197–99 Thomas, Harold, 254 Thompson, Daniel C., 210 Tillar, Thomas C., Jr., 297 Time Magazine, 230 Time to Kill, A, 194 Tinto, Vincent, 295 TNT/TBS, 196–98, 203 Tradition, 39, 50, 55, 192, 265, 286. See also Ritual Travis, Brenda, 35 Truman, Harry S., 29 2 Live Crew, 129 “Uncle Tom,” 125 underground pledge process, 261, 263–66. See also “on line”; pledging unions, 279, 298 United Church of Christ, 71 United Nations (UN), 29 United Negro College Fund (UNCF), 34 United States, xvii, 17, 28, 31, 37, 39, 84, 91, 103, 115, 117, 131, 150, 163–64, 167–68, 191, 197, 230, 253, 256 University of California, Berkeley, 10 University of Chicago, 9, 49, 58, 67

342

Index

University of Maryland, 258 University of Minnesota, 10 University of North Carolina, 9 University of Pennsylvania, 254 University of Wisconsin, 8 University Society, 59 Urban League, 253 urbanity, 9, 15, 33, 38, 100, 104, 200, 204 Veteran’s Administration, 28–29 VH1, 196 Vietnamese people, 141 Vincent, Frank, 56 voluntary association, xvi, 294–95, 298–300 voters, xiv, 30, 33, 36, 40, 84, 181, 211, 257 Wacquant, Loïc, 295 Walker, Alice, 186 Walker, Corey D. B., 91 Walker v. Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc., 259, 261, 263 Ware, Marjorie T., 139 Washington, Booker T., 59 Washington, D.C., 38, 53, 185, 210 Washington Post, 185–87 Watson, Lemuel, 278 Watts, Van, 254 Weber, Max, 8 Weidman, John C., 280 West, Candace, 223 West, Cornel, 5, 50–51, 83 What a Mighty Power We Can Be: African American Fraternal Groups and the Struggle for Racial Equality, xv Wheatstraw, Petey, 187 Whipple, Edward, 297 White, Brian J., 198 White, Sylvain, 191 white Greek organizations, xiv, 223, 296–99, 305, 310 white Greeks, 297 white privilege, 100, 150 white supremacy, 15, 157, 202 Whites, xv, 5, 30, 39, 47, 100, 125, 139–40, 146–49, 155, 163–66, 168, 170, 176, 185, 187, 197, 297. See also caucasians Wichita State University, 242

Wiley College, 39 Williams, Jermaine, 198 Williams, John Anthony, 257 Willis, Benjamin, 57 Wilson, Flip, 190 Wilson, William J., 52 Womanist, 142 wood, 238, 245. See also hazing; paddle; pledging Wood, Daisy, 274 Woolworth, 35 Wooten, Lynn, 3 World War I, 38 World War II, xiv, 28, 256 Yearwood, Lennox, 37 You Got Served, 196 Young, Andrew, 211 Young, Olive, 139 Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA), 33, 60 Zeta Phi Beta, 17, 29, 34, 39, 168, 258

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