"It is here in the nursery of rushing that the social Yale man learns the tactics of success." --James H. Ottaway Jr. Yale Daily News, Oct. 9.

Taking things seriously is as much a part of Yale as the naked rituals of fraternity initiation. Exaggerated concern and threadbare ceremony have established reputation, the bar and the secret grip as the booty of fraternal subsistence.

In the old days, before the College System was introduced in the thirties, the fraternities were active in undergraduate life. They were extra-curricular centers for debating, sports, drama and service work, and the brothers lived together in them. But today these functions have been lost to the colleges and extracurricular groups, and the fraternities linger on as a questionable indulgence, confining themselves to meals, dances and liquor.

Some Want Independence

Some have sold their property and disbanded, and of the nine fraternities which survice, two, St. Elmo and the Fence Club, have abandoned their national associations. Somewhat embarrassed by the pedestrian character of these national connections, several fraternities have made abortive attempts to become independent, and two others are about to try to denationalize. The financial and doctrinal pressure of the national chapters rankles on "fraternity row," and St. Elmo's, for example, declared itself independent after the mother chapter deplored its snobbishness and disrespect of frat pins.

Despite their weakening brotherhood and refined ambitions, most fraternities are retaining their general systems of rushing, pledging and initiations. The fraternal recruitment occurs twice a year, with a "rushing period" each fall and spring. The festival begins when the Inter-Fraternity Council (IFC) calls an organization meeting of all those interested in rushing. The rushees are told the rules of the game and are obliged to complete forms, stating whether they are a "legacy" to any fraternity.

Trying to Be Shoe

After a brief tantalization period, rushing begins, in dead earnest. The first two evenings are "open nights," when rushees are to go to all houses. Due to the splendid turnout (this fall there were 450 sophomores alone), the applicants are first sorted alphabetically, with half going to the "on row" houses one night--and the "off row" houses the next. As the fraternities already have about a hundred brothers, the numbers involved become rather formidable, but everyone has his name on his lapel, drinks beer, and gets to know everyone else. Grinning desperately, everyone tries to be shoe. The third evening the candidate is free to go to absolutely any house he chooses, but the fourth night he must be invited.

This is the first moment of truth, when the smiles, chatter, drinking and dressing of the previous bouts begins to pay off, when the dazzling exterior really comes into its own. Cuts are made, but everyone is given his second chance, for one evening all those who have been dropped may start afresh at a new fraternity.

Finally, there is a "hash meeting," after which the survivors are sent written invitations for the last evening of rushing. This is the rushees' last chance to put himself across, to reach the brothers. He then leaves the house and goes to bed, while the brothers hold elections. Early in the morning, the successful candidiate is visited by an IFC man, who tells him who has "bid" for him. Rushing is now over, but there is more to come.

It is perhaps unfair to judge the rushing system entirely in the harsh light of the superficiality, injustice and distress which are its characteristics. Not only does it train the Rush Committees for later life, but a good rushee will emerge broad gauge. Approximately 30 percent of each class is given the advantage of this special training. Although 30 percent is a democratic enough figure, the College Dean's office reports that four fifths of this group attended private schools.

A Month of Pledging

The elections over, the rushees become "pledges," and rushing makes way for "pledging." This lasts for about a month, and each future brother is provided with a "pledge father." The pledge father is subordinate to the "pledge master," who runs the pledging. The pledges are obliged to do such things as scrub floors and wear Linus blankets and suck their thumbs. But frequently they become unhappy in their work, and last year one pledge master was chained to a parking meter in front of the state capital, while another taskmaster was packed on a plane for California.

Dean of Undergraduate Affairs, Richard C. Carroll, however, considers such fun juvenile, and the IFC, always one jump ahead of the administration, is discouraging it. So strong is their self-restraint, that some fraternities are considering shortening pledging and promoting social service work.

Rituals Vary