I was having a conversation with one of my friends the other day, talking about how sometimes it feels like it is hard to meet people at Penn who are open and friendly. For a school that\u2019s known as \u201cthe social Ivy,\u201d students here seem to be oddly closed off within their respective bubbles. Then, my friend said something that caused me to sit back and reflect:\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cPenn is more cliquey than my high school was.\u201d<\/p>\n
At first it sounded weird. Haven\u2019t we outgrown the homeroom drama and recess cliques era? Aren\u2019t cliques something from our lives in the 2010s when other kids would decide if you were able to enter the playhouse or not?\u00a0<\/p>\n
Unfortunately, at Penn the obsession with cliques and social status is very much alive and thriving, even though most of us are past twenty. Even though we claim that we go to \u201cthe social Ivy,\u201d our culture rewards exclusivity, undermining the community we claim Penn fosters.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The idea of exclusivity permeates every aspect of campus, as if we are still kids competing for spots in the playhouse. Living in the high rises is perceived as \u201csceney\u201d because \u201cit\u2019s like the Quad for sophomores.\u201d Wearing certain clothes and being able to get into certain clubs all add to Penn students\u2019 social capital. With all this in mind, it\u2019s not hard to see Penn as just four more years of high school.\u00a0<\/p>\n
While writing this column, I spoke to two first years, who gave me their perspective on coming to Penn. One of them noted that the first thing that stood out when they arrived on campus was how \u201cexclusionary\u201d everything was. This is ironic, considering Penn has over 10,000 undergraduates<\/a>. You would assume that having more people around you would make it easier to find community; however, this first year noted how Penn students are \u201calways trying to create extra groups of those who are in versus the ones who are out.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n The other first year I spoke with expressed how creating friendships at Penn feels \u201cunnatural\u201d because people at Penn are very transactional. Even as something that\u2019s supposed to make students\u2019 lives easier, friendships often actually end up making life unnecessarily stressful. Progressing friendships from just waving<\/a> on Locust or grabbing the occasional dinner can be quite challenging when so many refuse to look beyond a surface level. \u201cWe dismiss each other based on status symbols, without even taking the time to find out who they are,\u201d said one of the students.<\/p>\n Yet so many of us pretend this isn\u2019t happening. We call Penn the \u201csocial Ivy,\u201d post a few pictures, and call it a day. We need to realize that even the spaces we use to build community are flattened out into vehicles for social hierarchy.<\/p>\n These hierarchies don\u2019t appear out of nowhere \u2014 they are reinforced by the same institutions meant to build connection. Take clubs or greek life, for example. Early in November, sororities market their sisterhood as a way to find community at Penn. However, when recruitment becomes about perceived tiers and insider knowledge (like dirty rushing), it cements the idea that belonging is something you earn through status rather than create naturally through connection.<\/p>\n As a junior in greek life, I couldn\u2019t be more grateful for the chapter I found and the community I was able to build. I\u2019ve seen how much work and care goes into fostering sisterhood. So why do we so often let it get reduced to just a status symbol?<\/p>\n Belonging, whether in a greek organization or a preprofessional club or a performing arts group, should not be treated like a merit badge. Penn students should remember that in four years, the tiers, the rankings and the letters won\u2019t matter anymore. It is time to redefine what the social Ivy should be; we left the playground years ago, it\u2019s time our social culture does too.\u00a0<\/p>\n