Courtesy of The Root
I had just gotten in from cheerleading practice when I got the call. On the other end, a chipper girl I’d met for the first time the night before gave me the good news: The sisters of Delta Gamma wanted me to be one of them. I’d made it past the first round and had been all but guaranteed a bid for membership.
Exhausted from rah-rahing, I croaked my gratitude before offering my regrets. I’d gone to the “rush event” at Columbia University as a favor to an upperclassman, another Black girl, on the cheerleading squad. The young women I chatted with over cheese and crackers had been sweet and sincere, but I’d had my heart set on another Delta — Delta Sigma Theta — before I ever stepped foot on campus. So I said a polite “Thanks, but no thanks” and pulled out my dog-eared copy of In Search of Sisterhood.
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