From the South Florida Sun-Sentinel
Going Greek
Fraternities at Florida Atlantic University act as if fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son.
by T.M. Shine
August 30 2006
Greek life at Florida Atlantic University is a three-phase deal.
"What we're working on this year is Greek plots," says Emery Burk, the school's new coordinator of Greek life.
Huh?
Burk pulls out a diagram that shows where each sorority and fraternity this year will get an 8-by-8-foot plot on the main campus in Boca Raton to put a stone block of their Greek letters or coat of arms. "Here's some examples of what I'm talking about from the pitch I gave," he explains. "Unfortunately these are photos of tombstones, but you get the idea."
Unfortunately the idea that Greek life is dead before it has even taken root at FAU is apparent. But Burk is desperately trying to get past the struggle of expanding fraternities at one of South Florida's biggest commuter schools. "Just getting students involved on campus in general is one of my hugest frustrations," the 25-year-old says.
Hasn't the movie Old School helped? "No, not at all," Burk says sadly. "The Animal House image of fraternities isn't fitting anymore. But I guess it does spark interest, gets people to start asking questions."
Still, his stock answer to questions such as, "Will there be basement mud-wrestling and pledges tossing bowling balls attached to their penises off fourth-floor balconies?" is a resounding "no." Bring up the subject of initiations, and Burk talks about tests and community-service hours. He makes joining a fraternity sound more like a DUI sentence than a college-life experience.
Burk is all new-school, but even he seems depressed about the party situation. "This atmosphere just isn't conducive to the keg party," he says. "Everybody's going to Miami or Fort Lauderdale or West Palm. I went to school in Ypsilanti, Mich., where we didn't have a lot of alternatives. Take a school like Ohio State: They're in the middle of cornfields so, you know, more keg parties."
A year ago, when Burk first pictured what it would be like coming to Boca Raton, he envisioned a clash between the senior-citizen community and the students. He makes it sound exciting, conjuring up images of loud fighting in lines at places such as Panera Bread and Jamba Juice.
FAU has residence halls for only about 1,000 students. "But usually, there's some sort of hub around a college where students all live in one apartment complex," Burk explains, "or a clique of seniors has a house that's like a party house. But I don't think that really exists here." (If it does, it would definitely be worth finding. Please contact City Link if you know of a party house.)
The school currently hosts 21 fraternities and sororities. Like most colleges, FAU provides an example of modern-day segregation with white, black and Hispanic organizations. Greek membership is fairly low, counting only about 380 students. Even one of the largest sororities, Delta Phi Epsilon, may be popular only because its mascot is a unicorn. "If they do have parties, they'll usually go off campus to places like Club Boca or T.J. Murphy's," Burk admits.
On-campus excitement includes landscape-beautifying projects, volunteer work and résumé-building seminars. You won't find so much as a squirt-gun fight here. "We do have a scavenger hunt," Burk offers without even wincing.
After the tombstones get planted, the second phase in Burk's plan is a huge Greek center, followed by the third phase of sorority and fraternity houses popping up around it. Burk can close his eyes and actually see it. "In 10 or 15 years," he says.
Still, he's determined to turn FAU's main campus into an all-around traditional college campus. "You end up with this roller coaster type of passion and energy in Greek life," he says, "so we're trying to set up programs and activities so we can have a steady presence throughout the school year."
The programs sound boring, which may explain why FAU's Greeks are hard up for recruits. You know how employers in the short-handed service industry are happy just to be able to hire a warm body and don't really care if that worker may eventually burn down the place with a curling iron plugged in next to the cash register? That's probably the way it is with these fraternities and sororities.
In the beginning, going Greek involves volunteer work and leaning up against tombstones. But if you suddenly got everybody in your sorority to raid the third floor of the science building to make the world's largest Bunsen burner bong, chances are the chapter president would give you a pass. It's a start.
"Oh," Burk says, "we did have an activity night with a barbecue and inflatables and … "
Whoa, whoa -- inflatables? That sounds more like it. That sounds like something Frank the Tank could work with. What's that all about?
"We set up these inflatables for sort of an obstacle course."
Oh.
Copyright © 2008, South Florida Sun-Sentinel