Social Schism: Brown Spring Weekend

The conversations recorded here took place almost verbatim. They were taken down by two visitors to the Providence festivities, who partook of the proffered refreshments only in the sections indicated.

Spring Weekend 1958 arrives today, as an anticipatory campus heads for the river, and rivers and rivers of refreshments flow and flow. The campus will be crowded today, deserted tomorrow, and who will care? The education of a full life will be learned and absorbed, to be savoured. By George, It's Spring! Brown Daily Herald, April 25, 1958.

The first event is the Interfraternity Sing. Forty percent of Brown's undergraduates belong to fraternities. The 17 houses on campus have been rehearsing for weeks, and urging the brothers to participate, so that they can take the crown away from Alpha Delta Phi, which has held it for a while.

On the steps to the entrance of Wilson Hall a fraternity is lined up, rehearsing for the great event.

"All right now you guys: no wiggling or waving. Chest in. Breathe."

The director moves up and down the line of black-suited, horizontal-striped-tied men. "Hey you there stop shivering. Chest in. No wiggling, damnit. No waving."

"Who d'ya think is going to win this year?"

"I don't know. The guy down the hall told me last night he thinks Phi Psi may have a chance. But he's a Phi Psi pledge, so you can't be sure. They're really hot to win it, though."

"D'you know anybody else in Phi Psi?"

"Just him. I don't know too many guys in fraternities."

"Oh, yes...That's right. You're an independent."

Yes, this is true. This doesn't mean too much freshman year, because a man can still live in the same dorm with his friends who have gone fraternity, and there's nothing really different about his life except a feeling that he should have rushed, or perhaps some bitterness because he was not bid.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the annual Interfraternity Sing, sponsored by the Interfraternity Council. This is a prime example of the co-operation and brotherhood that is the essence of the fraternity spirit at Brown. We shall first hear from Phi Kappa Psi."

The speech finds support from a few scattered members of the crowd, who move closer together to avoid the spitefulness of the elm tree.

"This Is my country; Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba; Land of my birth; Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba...."

"They sing pretty well, y'know?"

"Yes, they do. Uh...do you boys have any sort of--singing contest like this?"

"The independents, you mean? No."

"Here by the fire we defy frost and storm; We are warm; And we have our heart's desire; For here we're good fellows and the beechwood and the bellows..."

"Now look you guys, shoulders back, and dammit, no wiggling or waving."

"D'you want to go back to your room and change before the dance begins?"

"Why of course. Here. Here--shh. I want to hear who won."

"....and in first place...Phi Kappa Psi"

"'Ay! 'ow 'bout that!

"Let's have a cocktail, George!"

"Damn right! Pete, are you bringing Gail to the house now? We have to go down and celebrate, man!"

"Sure do. You want to go to the house now, don't ya, honey?"

"Sure she does. Gail likes to drink."

"Now, Mouse, don't say things like that about me. We all going there together?"

An empty beer can rattles through the air over their heads. Gail turns back and smiles, waving at the tottering man who threw it. Another tinkles down the walk. The red and green flag of Phi Kappa Psi looms in sight as the party enters the Wriston Quadrangle, housing the college's 17 fraternities and nine of its dormitories wedged in between them.

Another beer can rattles down the walk, and another, and another. The container of a more expensive drink crashes against the brick wall of Phi Delta Theta. Another beer can rattles into a little sapling.

"We won, man!" A brother grasps a brother by the neck and drags him down the corridor. "Whaddya know!"

"Looky baby!"

"Hey--Worthless! Com 'ere!"

"Oh--Gail--there you are. Hey, Fish--where can the girls change?"

"Oh--pick a room, any room. Try Beasley's room--the first on the left."

Gail disappears--perhaps never to be seen again by her date. It matters little. Sue is just as good; or even Ann--actually, he's been out with most of the girls in the room.

"Folks are dumb where I come from,

They ain't had any larnin. . . . ."

"Hey--Rat! Where are your pants?"

"What's wrong with Bermuda shorts?"

"Still they're happy as can be, Doin' what comes nat'rally'"

"That's a good phonograph, Pete. Sounds much better than the last time I heard it."

"When--last week? Well, here's Gail; I'd better be seeing you."

"Gail My love! Before you return to Pete, allow me. . . ."

The lights are dim around the huge horseshoe bar, and the many couples leaning together, heads filled with beer and good bourbon, make the room even darker. There is a dance later, at which no liquor is allowed.

"Is this your date? Are you going to the Refectory dance?"

"No, but she is."

"Hey--I think I'll pick up Mike beforehand. We said I'd pick him up on the way over."

"Who's Mike? Oh . . you mean your last year's roommate?"

"Yeah. He lives in the West Quad now."

"Oh. Okay. We'll meet you there."

The West Quadrangle is really two quadrangles, designed by the same architect who framed the Wriston Quad, but had less money at the time, and so it is much smaller than the former. Finished just this past Fall, it is the stronghold of the independents, and has two large, comfortably furnished lounges, with six smaller ones scattered throughout the building. It has the antiseptic appearance and smell of a hospital, and its brick structure and sparse courtyards make it look like an old geometric oasis in the middle of a broad desert. It has parties, too.

"Funny that not too many people have arrived yet. Oh, there's Bill and Barbara. You know them, don't you?"

"I don't think so. Were they here the last time I was?"

"I don't know . . . so many different people come to these parties every time; I guess you can't know most of them."

The quiet talk goes on.

A beer can rattles down the walk and a window is thrown open in the upper courtyard.

"Lollipop, lollipop, oh, lolly, lolly,

Oh Lollipop, lollipop,

Oh, lolly, lolly. . ."

"I think there's going to be a band here tomorrow night, which should be very good."

"Yes, that will be nice."

"Are you going to the dance:"

"Yes, Pete is coming over to pick me up."

"He's from Psi, isn't he? They won the I. F. sing tonight, I heard. That was really fun."

"Mmm."

Pete arrives, and the two couples proceed to the dance in Sharpe Refectory, reputed to have the best kitchen facilities of any college in the country. The building is constructed like boxes fitted inside each other: the innermost box being the kitchen, the surrounding one "the pit," where the independents eat, the outermost one a carton segmented into a small room for each fraternity. Tonight, however, the fraternity dining rooms are locked and vinly drapes hang like shower curtains all along the room, diffusing the red, blue and white light along the highly-polished brown floor and light green walls.

Lester Lanin, who has played for President Eisenhower's birthday balls and similar events, has set up shop in one corner of the quadrangular building, and his long-winded musicians stop but twice during the entire three-hour dance. My Fair Lady mingles with Pal Joey, white dinner jackets mix with black ones, red chemises mix with red jackets; but the lights blend all into violet. Some dance in the circle created by the shower curtain, while the jowly policeman at the door smiles benignly at the scene.

"No, there's been no damage tonight; ahll the boys 've been verry quiet and well-behaved. They can't brring liquor in, y'kno."

"If they asked me, I could write a book,

About the get me to the church on time. . ."

"Paul, where's Mark and Elmer? The tapping is going to start soon and I want to run through this once."

"Congratulations, Art!"

"Oh, Jim, when does the Brown Key tapping begin? That was so much fun to watch last year. Are any of your fraternity brothers being tapped tonight?"

"I don't know, but I hear that all the members are fraternity men this year. Yeh, I think thy're preparing for it in the Chancellor's Dining Room down there. They present keys, and so forth--they don't do much, but it's a big prestige thing."

"Yeh--Fish really got sophomores to gor for interviews for the thing; I don't know how many got elected though."

The Brown Key is an organization of 20 men who provide for visiting teams, and care for the Brown mascot, Butch Bruno MCLL. From those who apply for membership, the Key selects forty on the basis of interviews--and other criteria--, and from this number the Sophomore class elects 20. Last year five independents were elected, this year there were none. There were none among the 40 finalists, either.

"Move aside please, let's form an aisle here. Please move aside."

"Do you know anyone who's being tapped?"

"No, I don't think any independents were chosen this year. I don't know anyone who went for an interview. It's a fraternity thing, anyway, and it means a lot to them; who cares who gets elected? They don't do anything, anyway. . . ."

"I'd better be getting back to the dorm, I think."

"We going back to the house for some more cocktails, Pete--er--Jim?"

The West Quadrangle is dark now, and it looks warmer, and more inviting. Inside, people are drinking quietly.

"I poured some vodka into the goldfish bowl this afternoon--doesn't seem to be doing them any harm."

"No--they're used to it."

"Ya know--any more vodka in the lounge, Joe?--this isn't a bad place. Seems to me like the IDC doesn't have any power over independents any more; it's all centered in the West Quad council. Great dance we had here last week--eh?"

"Yah,--but I'm not so sure. I don't like all the damn politicking that goes on around here, and I think it makes the fraternities look down on us even more. You're right, though--yeh, thanks, I will have some more--we are taking over the campus--Cam Club, IDC, the Herald. . ."

The Cammarian Club is the student council; the IDC the Interdormitory Council. Both are run by independents, most by men in the West Quadrangle. This is the first year that Brown independents have had any dormitory facilities equal to those of the fraternity men.

A freshman down the hall, pledged to a reputable fraternity, grumbles into the room.

"These damn pledge periods go on so long it's impossible to get much studying done, dammit. And now Hell Week is coming up, and all studying will be impossible. Besides--all the fraternity parties around here are all the same--the rooms are the same, everything is the same. . . . But this place--with one bathroom for a whole damn corridor--is worse. I'm sick of it."

"I threw a firecracker in the shower while Tom was in there tonight--yeh, but he tried to burn my door5A crew race is to huddle up near and hop on a car to, and take your shoes off at. A crew race is to tear down the streets of Providence toward and sing "I'm a Brown man born" with, and feel your hair and your shirt blow in the breeze on, and drink.