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Anyone who has ever lived on a University of Minnesota campus has witnessed the sights of sorority rush week: the chants, the matching outfits, the throngs of freshmen lining the sidewalks.
Seeing this, most people are probably wondering what would influence someone to join a seemingly ridiculous and oft-imitated group.
But for most freshman girls looking for a sense of community in a new environment on campus, it’s nearly impossible not to get sucked in. Recruitment into sororities, while almost certainly unintentional, uses psychological tactics that cults have always relied on to build followers.
The process begins with assessing the right target: an emotionally fragile person who is at a crossroads in life and easily influenced.
One of the biggest transition points in any young person’s life is in first grade. Separation from family and friends is not only emotionally challenging: it forces new students to naturally try to regain their lost safety net.
This internal struggle coincides perfectly with sorority rush week, when sales pitches begin.
Whatever their reason for joining, once the ideal candidate comes knocking, the cult leadership begins trying to make a connection. This can happen in many ways – group activities, conversations – but most importantly, recruits are “love bombed” at all times. The term (coined by the leader of the famous Korean Christian cult “The Moonies” in the 1970s) involves bombarding candidates with affection, flattery and affirmation. It often involves current members pretending to have common interests, emphasizing charity work and discussing social causes they are “passionate about”, all in an effort to improve their image.
Cult expert Ronald N. Loomis summed up this concept perfectly in his testimony before the Maryland Cults Task Force.
“They quickly try to convey the message: ‘I’m your new best friend,'” Loomis said.
This strategy manifests itself in a number of ways during peak weeks. Lauren Simpson, a former member of Alpha Chi Omega, describes Summit Week as “a series of introductions, discussions about values and motivations, speeches about the uniqueness of the sorority, and detailed discussions about philanthropy and personal passions.”
Crucially, Simpson highlighted the approach taken by sorority leadership in these events.
“They also try to sell you a sorority…so they say, ‘This is what we do, this is what makes our sorority unique’…They really try to emphasize who you are as a person and what you are about. “You’ll be there,” Simpson said.
There were also tears at these events.
“Whether they cry or not is a make-or-break thing because each college has a different preferred ritual,” Simpson said.
The most concerning aspect of these interactions, however, is that in some sororities, tears are considered necessary.
Former Gamma Phi Beta member Ellie Berglin recounts the guidance she received from the Vice President of Membership while serving as a mentor during Summit Week.
“She said, ‘Okay, guys, your goal is to make girls cry,'” Bergling said.
According to Bergling, she and some other instructors were skeptical that this could be done.
It’s one thing to discuss personal topics with recruits. Actively trying to make them cry to create dependence is more than just emotional manipulation. This is a cult strategy. For these recruits, having an “emotional safety net” in the same room and love-bombing them with phrases like “we love you” and “you’re special” can leave them feeling short-changed.
After acceptance, the process begins by assimilating the newly admitted members into their new culture. Once you win the bid, the sorority showers you with T-shirts, keychains, glasses, stickers, and plaques, while forcing you to dress fancy for weekend retreats, weekly meetings, and parties that require fancy attire.
It’s hard to ignore the social pressure this puts on 18-year-olds. Many people feel the need to give back by giving of themselves to the group. The underlying fear factor is there—no one wants to suddenly stop hanging out with their sorority sisters, cringe at the thought of living in a house the following year, or waste the thousands of dollars they’ve already invested.
This dynamic allows the cult to maintain control over newly admitted members. Fully immersed members begin to exert peer pressure on others, make enemies among those who leave, and effectively idolize the group or leader who provided them with a platform.
Within sororities, idolization and immersion often manifest themselves as competition rooted in the recruitment process, which involves numerous sororities promoting themselves against one another.
It is natural to ignore these concepts. In a cult-themed episode of the Netflix series Explained, the show highlights how new members often have such a strong need to belong that they develop lapses in judgment that lead them to ignore potentially harmful warning signs. .
Still, the point of these comparisons isn’t just to say sororities are the college version of a cult. Such statements reduce the potential for forming lifelong friendships and gaining beneficial experiences in these organizations.
Instead, sororities should reconsider the emotional harm they inflict on vulnerable women during the recruitment process. The tear-jerking engineering situation, combined with the promise of a social safety net and the fear of missing out, constitutes emotional manipulation, no matter what language is used to reframe it. Unnecessarily emotional interviews, outlandish slogans, and heavy financial burdens should not be prerequisites for making friends, especially when there is no guarantee of receiving a bid.
While sororities can work effectively and have real value with the right people, it should never come at the cost of emotional turmoil.
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