My first week at Tulane was marked by a spiraling, perpetual migraine. Raised in the temperate dampness of Seattle, I was ill-prepared for the heat of August in New Orleans. Paired with my refusal to rent a Kentwood water dispenser, I lived in a state of constant dehydration. At the time, I blamed my quietness on the headache, but I think the vast newness of college shocked me. Constant socialization emptied my brain of coherent thoughts and goals, but I tried to get involved on campus. My Wave Leaders, both AKPsi brothers, recommended rushing.
I had an intended major in business and little other knowledge of that big thing called The Corporate World (which, at the time, I viewed as a portal to sterile cubicles, faceless suits, and that precious thing called financial stability). I clung to any guidance that would elucidate that world. Rush a professional business fraternity? If it lent me a purpose, I’d take it. I rushed, overwhelmed by the magnitude of impressive accomplishments other rushees touted. I interviewed, my hands shaking. I did not get in.
I found other things to occupy myself with and in time I forgot about AKPsi. Covid came, I left. I returned to Tulane in August as a Wave Leader. My fellow Wave Leader, newly minted friend, and AKPsi brother, Tali Gorodetsky, encouraged me to rerush AKPsi. I signed up, if only in a bid to solidify this new friendship. This time I thought carefully about how I wanted to be perceived, but also who I truly was. Instead of thinking of rush as a competition against people who already had two internships or who were fluent in six languages (things I certainly lacked—and still do!), I considered it an opportunity to forge new friendships. I laughed, relaxed, let others speak. My blazer felt comforting rather than oppressive. My hands didn’t shake quite so much. I got in.
I grew a lot in the year between my first and second rush attempt. But instead of stagnating, I found AKPsi continues to push me to grow thoughtfully. Although AKPsi rush was my first experience with professional rejection, it certainly was not my last. I applied to over 100 internships during my junior year. Most applications disappeared into the ether, the only artifact of their existence the “application successfully submitted” email in my inbox. I heard back from three. One was a rejection, two were invitations for further interviews. Of that, further research showed that one was a pyramid scheme (oops). The final interview request ended up turning into my internship at a major company. These rejections were soothed, and the acceptance celebrated by my community— by AKPsi.
My most meaningful college relationships have come out of AKPsi, whether by meeting brothers, pledges, unaffiliated friends of brothers, or encouraging my own friends to rush. As a graduating senior, I am astounded when I compare who I am today to who I was as a freshman. At risk of sounding excessively sentimental, I confess that my younger self would be comforted to know that she eventually finds her people to love and be loved by. Her community. Her brotherhood.
By Helen Doyle
