They merely freshmen....

My freshmen are going a little nuts. Rush week just ended and now some of them are pledging. As the coordinator of a residential community service program, part of my job is to encourage/maintain their commitment to the elementary school where they tutor. This encouragement usually comes in the form of study breaks and other hall events, basically any situation with baked goods and company. I haven’t had anyone become delinquent in their commitment to the program, which has less to do with any event and more to do with the quality of people in the program. But now(!), I am fighting for my life in a battle against the GREEKS.

The Greeks are wooing them with shiny gifts and trendy hipster parties. They come armed with the fake small talk from upper classman and the glitzy networking opportunities. How can I compete? I’m ninety-nine percent positive that I can’t offer them the same caliber (or any caliber) of alcoholic beverages or themed exotic dancers. There aren’t enough brownies in the world to make me cooler than the Greeks.

It’s hard being a freshman at a big university like the University of Pennsylvania. Most of my adorably brilliant and charming residents are coming from the top of their game in their respective hometowns. They are used to be student leaders, la crème de la crème, but now found themselves struggling to find identity among a slew of equally talented co-eds. This complex struggle is fueled by the regular garden-variety of 18 year old hormones.

In short, they are under some serious stress. And now, on top of competitive academics and all of their other clubs on campus, they are forced to buddy up and perform for a group of upperclassman. I have residents that are only allowed to wear a certain color, every day for the next 3 weeks. I have residents that have dressed up in random animal costumes and had to parade around campus. I was even mooned by three of my boys as some sort of pledge dare.

Anyway, as busy and exciting as my life is, I come home to a group of equally busy, albeit with bizarre, and self-inflicted, tasks pressurized undergrads. I’m fortunate to have my freshman posse to complain to, and stress-eat with. Tonight, I dined with five of them, who for some reason had to wear colored feather boas and tiaras, at our favorite guilty eating joint, good ole Taco Bell. And despite the cholesterol, saturated fat, and sodium, I feel better that I ate it with them.