Mysterious letters under doors, interviews at Heidi’s, and juniors forced to pretend they are any different than the frosh trying to rush whatever is considered “touse” these days: society season is upon us.
We let the society system run the college. Seniors are expected to retire from public life to their weird little huts. The worst people you know angle for club leadership positions from their freshman fall because they heard it has a tap line to Sticky & Icky. Everyone knew a Bonesman and would tell you about it at a party in sophomore year, even if that Bonesman didn’t know them all that well.
Now I (thank God) am not on either side of the Tap process this year since I joined a 3-year society as a sophomore. I don’t have to worry about interviews or bothering the seniors I know. I know where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing Thursday nights next year, barring an apocalyptic event (or me being offered an egregious sum of money). This detachment allows me to opine freely about this whole society business.
For me, the process of joining a society was smooth and enjoyable at every stage. I didn’t enter into it with any expectations of anxiety. The point of these selection processes for all clubs is to see if the individual is a good match for the institution. If I were, then I would have made it; if I was not or there were better fits ahead of me, I wouldn’t. Either way, the best thing to do was just to be myself and let fate play out, so I was able to really take in the novelty of the experience and have fun with the whole thing. So when I see my friends anxious about their interviews and tap, I wish I could offer some reassurance.
I completely understand the stress of the whole society process. This thing that may run your social life senior year feels so out of your control. You probably don’t know a lot about the societies that are interviewing you. Maybe you’re a partier and end up in a society that loves knitting all night. Maybe you want to have a new group of people to argue with, but instead, your society only debates what drinks they want at the next mixer.
The whole thing feels like a popularity contest that everyone feels like they are losing. It’s the “friendship paradox,” but for interview requests: your friends always seem to have more interviews than you do, and that friend also knows someone who has more interview requests.
I think a bit of perspective would be in order, but there’s really nothing that’s like the society process. The closest thing for me might have been college application season. Both involve attempting to get admission into selective institutions after all, but like with most obvious comparisons, there really isn’t much substance beyond that initial similarity.
After all, you are entering the process at a point where it is too late to change who you are, you don’t know exactly what the people who are interviewing you are looking for, and you can’t help but think that if you just had more connections or a famous parent, this whole thing would be a whole lot easier. This is obviously unlike college applications, which occurred at the end of our high school careers, featured cryptic alumni interviewers who were impossible to read, and would have been a lot less stressful if we were legacy students.
Between the submission of our Common Apps and hearing back from schools, there was really no use in stressing out. What was done was done. It was up to the colleges to decide if they wanted the versions of ourselves that the previous three years had created. Our bigger worry should have been whether we were happy with who we became. Of course, this has no relevance to society tap at all.
There is definitely no way that this advice is useful to you now, but I remember comparison being a pointless exercise during that period. People would be really proud of their interviews and wouldn’t get in, while others would seemingly bomb an interview and still make it. I told my Yale interviewer, over Zoom and a bowl of soup, that I didn’t care if I got into Yale. If I were trying to get into Yale, that might be a bad answer, but I was trying to be myself, in which case that cocky-ass quip was perfectly on-brand.
And it goes without saying that, while it may have been a bit privileged to be super worried about getting into the best possible college, obviously, that urge is incredibly valid when it comes to societies. Going to college is what matters, and while the resources and experience of going to Yale are unparalleled, it’s not like most of our lives would have been much worse had we gone to a school in the prestige tier below. But for Yale Senior Societies? There is such a clear difference in experience and life outcome depending on which one you get put in. You either get grouped with around 14 of your peers, spend two days a week together bonding, build a community, and get access to a small alumni network, or you get grouped with around 14 of your peers, spend two days a week together bonding in a fancy tomb, build a community, and get access to a big alumni network. It’s like apples and oranges. This is so important that it should consume you in the interim. Who cares that our college careers are coming to an end and that the moments we have with our current friends grow rarer and more precious as time passes? Valuing the time you have with the people you love while you are close in proximity is so four years ago.
Tragically, the advice I would have offered to my younger self doesn’t seem to be apt. Oh, “Enjoy the process. You are who you are. Be yourself if you get interviewed. You’ll be fine. Wherever you go will be amazing. Cherish the time you have with your friends,” blah, blah, blah. If someone had told me that sophomore year, I would have blown a raspberry in their face. Even as someone who has gone through the process, all I can say is there’s truly nothing like it.
