School Haze

I am sure most people are in a post-party bliss from CIAA weekend. Which, incidentally, is an acronym for Crazy Influx of African Americans.

I like the energy such events bring, especially the Greek life, even though I did not pledge. I guess that is why this recent story caught my attention.

At the University of Maryland, several members of Zeta Phi Beta sorority were charged with assault and hazing over allegation that they beat and severely bruised a former pledge.

Lavisha McClarin alleged that she was choked, shoved into a wall and hit on her buttocks with an oak paddle by sorority members on more than one occasion.

Damn! When did Sororities get so gangster? Isn’t there a similar initiation process for the Crips? They both share the same colors. I am just saying.

I have never quite understood the purpose of beating somebody’s butt to enforce a sense of brother and sisterhood. If we want to test their commitment, just make them watch seasons one through three of “Dancing with the Stars.” That should test the strongest of wills.

Greek culture has definitely evolved since I was an undergraduate. I remember my sister pledging Delta at North Texas State and calling me for $70 because she needed to buy a red leather skirt and matching pumps for a step show. I was like, “I am surprised my phone is still on, so how am I going to subsidize your step show outfit?”

Needless to say, I found some money….lol.

We all knew these secret rituals happened, but few seem willing to talk about them. I had an English class with a guy who was pledging Omega. He came to class one day wearing a neck brace. I was like, “Man, what happened to you?” He said he ran into a door. “Right,” I said. “I always run into doors with my neck.”

I attended the University of Texas, where many of my friends pledged. Each group had a label: The Alphas were the bookworms; the Kappa’s were the pretty boys; and the Omegas, generally, were feared due to their freakish proportions.

I remember one night during a dance the Omegas began to step around the dance floor to their anthem, “Atomic Dog.” I, of course, saw them coming and moved to the side like all the other folks with good sense. My friend did not see them coming so they pushed her to the side and she made a big scene. I found myself surrounded by a group of sweaty, hulking Q dogs. Luckily, I relied on my standard get-out-of-a-butt-beating tactic and fell to the floor yelling for insulin. I found that Q dogs, like grizzlies, do not like to eat dead or sickly prey. Crisis averted.

Now, back to the ladies of Zeta Phi Beta. Sorority spokeswoman Stacye Montez later released a statement that read:

"Hazing of any kind is strictly prohibited, and is inconsistent with the principles of the sorority."

I offer this for discussion: Is the ritual of beating and hazing potential pledges an archaic practice? Maybe if we saw similar practices in our everyday lives it would seem more normal.

I offer Professor Locs’ Top Five Everyday Pledge Paddle scenarios:

5. At the dry cleaner: Smack. “Thank you, Big Brother No starch.”

4. At Red Lobster: Smack. “Thank you, Big Sister Lobster Fest.”

3. A the grocery store: Smack. “Thank you, Big Brother 12 Items or Less.”

2. At the nail salon: Smack. “Thank you, Big Sister Half Off French Tips.”

1. At choir practice: Smack. “Thank you, Big Brother Lord Help Me to Hold Out.”