This is part two of a non-fiction story. To catch up, read part one HERE.
The flyer for the paintball event said to meet at the student union on a Sunday, fairly early, so we'd have time to get there and play a few games. I'm an early riser, but most college kids aren't, so I was surprised when I showed up and saw twenty-plus people gathered for the event.
Overwhelmed and self-conscious, I was about to leave, when an ‘older’ guy (read: 21-years-old) asked if I was there for the event. He offered a kind, toothy grin that didn’t signal any red flags, and he used multisyllabic words that none of the dorm boys playing "hit me as hard as you can" would understand.
I said “yeah,” and he introduced himself as Brian, the fraternity president. This was 1999, so it’s surreal to look back now in 2024 and know I'd end up attending his wedding in Vegas in 2007, and later he’d ask me to interview him about his wife’s tragic death for my podcast Coffin Talk, 24 years later in 2023.
The event was awesome! We played a lot of paintball, we ate good food, and I met a lot of other “in-the-future notable people” that day. And they paid for all of it, even lunch! After the event, the Rush Chair, a charismatic guy named Jesse, asked if I'd come Monday for more free food at "Uncle Sam's Subs."
I hesitated, even though I wanted to say yes. I wasn't playing hard to get, I was just having a really hard time convincing myself that I'd be able to look in the mirror and like myself if I became a “Frat Boy.” Stigmas are powerful. People love to toss the term “toxic masculinity” around now, but back then, we called that “frat boy stuff,” so, in theory, I was on the precipice of willingly entering that ick.
But I’m not wired to hate on command, and I’m especially unequipped for bigotry, even against popularly lamentable stereotypes. I’ve always had a soft spot for the essence of people I meet. Each of us possesses an undeniable, pure core that anyone can reach and get to know if they try hard enough.
Oh, and I’m also from Berkeley, CA, where I was socialized to tolerate and not label, so I was culturally compelled to put my best foot forward, and in this case, that seemed easy: These “frat boys” were funny, told good stories, and a few were 21, which meant I'd have a direct conduit to booze, a college must.
I told Jesse I'd think about it, but I'm sure he knew I was in. He reads people like a children’s book. That explains his 20+ year law career and success as Rush Chair, but he became my life-long friend because as Service Chair, he introduced me to volunteering, a habit I’ve continued to this day.
Jesse is inspiring and kind, with a deep love for helping others, which explains why he pivoted away from law and now runs a non-profit for children in Los Angeles. And I'm proud to say I've seen him every year since we met. We just saw Seinfeld at the Hollywood Bowl and I stayed at his apartment.
Oh, and he's also been on Coffin Talk (there’s a theme here).
The Uncle Sam’s event the next night was my “second date,” with the fraternity, and it was another home run. When it ended, Brian invited us to go back to the house to try “hard cider,” and I still talk all the time to three of guys I met that night, and I was the best man in two of their weddings, an honor I treasure to this day. Don’t let marketing fool you. Nothing is more important than friendship and family.
Also of note is the fact that while the brothers got us all pretty buzzed on hard cider, at no point did anyone talk about pledging or try to pressure us into joining their frat. It was just a bunch of dudes hanging out, boozing, and shooting the sh*t, which, for me, was the pinnacle of living at that age.
I have to give those ‘old guys’ credit. They cidered and dined me all week, and it worked. By Friday, when they invited me to the house to “sign a bid,” I was all in, and I officially became a pledge.
Pledging started the next week, but it wasn’t anything like I’d hoped for or feared: It did not feature booze, food, or fun, but, it also didn’t make us do anything creepy or misogynistic. There were no “elephant walks,” no panty raids, and no one was ever forced to drink or do anything against their will.
It was like taking a pass/fail physical education history class. We were assigned a pledge master who was in charge of making us meet several times a week to study and memorize a “sacred book,” so we could take a test and join, and we also had to do a lot of team exercises to cultivate our brotherhood.
For example, if one of us got a question wrong, the rest of us had to do push ups while they watched us. This “the weakest link ruins the chain” army-style training may sound tough, but the results are amazing! As an added bonus, it’s great exercise. I did so many pushups that I lost 20 pounds in 8 weeks.
You also get a big brother, which the frat choses. Mine was our pledge warden, who I was scared of at first, but also respected, and over the years we’ve gotten closer. I’m still in good contact with him, and he’s the person I most admire out of everyone I met at Pitt. (Thanks to his job, he isn’t on my podcast).
The two-month pledge process culminated in an event called “hell weekend.” We were given a list of items to buy and told to show up to the house on a Friday and expect to stay there until Sunday evening.
There were 7 of us left, (a few dropped) and we were nervous, but we should have been looking forward to it! The weekend involved a ton of insane and fun antics that wouldn’t offend any of you, but I took an oath of secrecy, so I will only say this: all the secrets are juvenile and easy to imagine (try Google?).
OK, you want some hints? The shopping list for fraternity brothers when preparing for hell weekend was: mustard, catsup, pretzels, and stale beer. And the pledge’s list was: tampons, change of clothes, bra, stuffed animal, paper clips, Tylenol, and Preparation H. OK. I’m kidding on the last one….
Anyway, hell weekend was an incredible bonding experience, and also fun (even though we barely slept), and it ended on time, after we were sworn in, given a pin, taught a secret handshake, and told “what our letters mean.” And, while all that secret sauce was fun to learn, it’s not important in the long run.
What matters is how pledging matured me and gave me a life-long set of friends I truly love and trust.
I learned discipline, service, generosity, and interpersonal and social skills, and I even learned powerful life skills like how to not quit pledging as you walk in public, paper-clipped in a chain with nine boys, past a bunch of normal college girls who don’t think you’re cool and aren’t shy about making that clear.
All jokes aside, I cannot stress this enough: I am very glad I pledged my fraternity. In the time I pledged and was in it, nothing ever happened that made me ashamed to be a member, and while the next chapter of this story is not a fun period of my life, I’m still glad I went through all of it.
So I leave you on a happy note, but fear not, next week you’ll read all about my ‘hell semester!’
This week on Coffin Talk: Fox Bonilla is a pioneering technology leader known for his innovations in virtual reality and spatial computing. From developing NASA documents for President Obama to shaping industry standards through his work with XRSI, Fox’s expertise is frequently requested throughout the globe. Click here to get his take on VR, AI, and humanity (Or listen on any app).
My college fraternity experience was similar (AEPi at Columbia in the late 1990s) but some of the pledging events were not things I would be proud of perpetuating or participating in. However one is a fun anecdote. My buddy was pledgemaster and I came up with an idea. He and I each showed the 8-10 pledges a clear plastic cup with a live goldfish in it swimming. We swallowed them whole, alive. Then we blindfolded them and gave them red solo cups with water and a peach wedge from a can and told them to do what they saw us do but blindfolded. Some of them had trouble and we kinda laughed at them when they said “I can feel it wiggling in my mouth I can’t swallow it. It’s alive!”
Well, Mikey, you certainly know how to keep your audience hanging! Until next week then. And, Sam, was that your first taste of sushi? 😂😂😂