Every year for our Pansy Brunch, the outgoing Seniors write wills for the remaining chapter members. Today is Bid Day as well as the day of my first alumnae chapter meeting, so I thought it would be appropriate to post a bit of my will here. 54 new members joined my chapter today and I couldn’t be happier for them. They are about to embark on an amazing journey that will positively influence them for the rest of their lives! My advice to them is as follows:
To my dearest sisters on Sunday, April 25, 2010:
I never thought I would graduate… I’m still a little in shock now—but I’ve also come to accept it through staring at my graduation cords for a month (you would think the cap and gown would have done me in, but it’s the graduation cords I have to thank for my reassurance—yes, yes, typical me). Four years ago, I thought this day would never come. Four years later, I wonder where the time has gone. You may think this seems like an odd thing to say, but we’ll talk about it when you’re getting ready to graduate. Meanwhile, I’ve been thinking a great deal about the past lately. A Senior Will is a way of pulling the past from the walls and reliving it. It’s hard to think about each tear, sigh, or step I’ve produced while in this house. But the first few times I cried here, at least, are ones I very vividly remember. I first cried in this house on Preference Night Spring 2007. It was at that moment that I realized that despite the odd, and often terrifying, entity that is Formal Recruitment, this was not a house full of overly welcoming strangers. This was home. My sureness was only solidified when I opened my Bid Card the next day: I got to come home. In the years since, I have had many moments of laughter, blood, sweat, and yes, tears. The women here have helped me to grow and change in ways I couldn’t foresee then, and even now, I’m still surprised sometimes. They have supported me through anything and have always been the people I could count on—for anything from a ride to work, to a hug when I needed it, to just a chat while walking to class. But more than that, they have become my family and this house has become my home. These women have taught me to truly honor our values and traditions in myself and in life. I am grateful because I have over one hundred sisters that I could never imagine a day without.
In token thereof, I hereunto set my hand. This is a will, so let’s get to the willing. If I keep it short, I may not cry while I write this… Let’s be honest, I’ll cry anyway. Let’s be honest again, I probably won’t be able to keep it short… These things have a tendency to happen, so I’ll apologize now…
To the Freshmen and New Members: Your journey has only just begun. The road can be hard and long, but it is a road that you should travel and travel with care. You may not know why you are here now, and that is okay. There is a wealth of opportunity in front of you, so try everything you can and take it all in. Love your time here as much as I have and may it become a home to all of you. Learn to give 110% and nothing less.
To the Sophomores: I have seen all of you grow so much in these past two years and I am both excited and anxious to see where this growth will lead you all. This is your time to shine. So shine often and shine brightly. You guys are superstars, so I know that you will continue to give 110% and nothing less.
To the Juniors: Tomorrow will be your first Monday night meeting where you sit in the front of the room. Sit with pride and know that you are now the Seniors. This is a very important legacy that you all are receiving: hold a torch for the younger members. Teach them how to behave and love this sorority. Be their inspiration. I hope we have all done justice enough for you all so that you may inspire future pledge classes in the same way. Teach them how to give 110% and nothing less.
To the Seniors: This is a will, so I will attempt to leave my statement to all of you brief. I would love to thank you all personally by name, but I feel as though if I had to write short statements about what each of you means to me, I would not be able to keep them short. Instead, I will use a cop-out and say this: I have known some of you since that day long ago in January 2007, and some less. But, it seems like ages ago now anyway, doesn’t it? How far have we come in four years? How far have I come in four years? I feel like my hair color describes it perfectly. I was blonde back then because I wanted to be someone new and different. I’m back to being a brunette now because in my four years here, I learned something. I learned that when someone really wants to change, they can. And, they will do so with the purest help and support: that of their sisters. I am happy to have spent my fours years here with all of you and I thank you all for everything I am today. I am grateful for the time I have spent here in these hallowed halls with all of you. What a great story they have to tell.
TO EVERYONE:
You are all special to me and I sincerely appreciate each of you. And for this reason, I have some advice for all of you based on my own four years here. Take to heart as much or as little as you like. It follows as such:
Congratulations to the circlers of 2010.
To the remaining pledge classes: bring a camera.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, a camera would be it. The long-term benefits of a camera have been proven by Facebook, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of being an underclassman. Oh, nevermind. You will not understand its power and beauty until you’re about to graduate. But trust me, in a few years, you’ll think back on photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really were. You are not as insignificant as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to practice walkout by doing a handstand. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blind side you at 5:55 PM before Monday meeting.
Do one thing every day to ensure growth.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with your sisters’ hearts. Don’t put up with sisters who are reckless with yours.
Laugh.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead. Sometimes you’re behind. This struggle can be hard, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your Big’s clue letters; delete your old Bill Highway statements.
Cry.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t yet know why you’re here. The most interesting people didn’t know at eighteen why they were here either. But all of the most interesting twenty-two/one year olds I know do now.
Get to know your family.
Be kind to your officers. They do a lot more for you than you know.
Maybe you’ll have a single, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll live in the Annex, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll live in a quad, maybe you’ll still be living with the girls from your quad when you’re a senior. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.
Enjoy your body, use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.
Dance…especially if you have nowhere to do it but the dining room.
Dress to the pin, because you’ll feel absolutely classy.
Do NOT compare this sorority to other sororities. It will only make you confused.
Get to know your Big. You have three years (or less) until she graduates.
Be nice to your pledge class. They are the best link to your New Member days and the people most likely to be around in the future.
Understand that undergrad members come and go, but we’ll all be alumnae in the end. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you initiated.
Date a Pi Kapp once, but stop before you start partying too much.
Date an AEPi once, but stop before you start partying too little.
Love.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Dues will rise. Slates will be reslated. You, too, will circle… And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were a new member, dues were reasonable, slates were constant, and younger members loved their seniors.
Love your seniors.
No matter what, your sisters will be there to support you. Maybe you have a boyfriend. Maybe you have your hometown best friend. But you never know when either one might be gone.
Don’t worry so much about living out; your seventy house mates would agree.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of pulling it from the window panes, dusting it off, puffy painting the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the camera.
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