In the fall of 1985, my freshman year at Berkeley, I rushed Deke. Put in more basic terms, I pledged Delta Kappa Epsilon, the fraternity to which my mother’s father and his father and a large assortment of uncles and male cousins had belonged. I did not especially want to be a frat boy, mostly because I didn’t like all-male spaces. (As today, more than half of my good friends then were women. Male friendships were and are happy, rare exceptions to a general rule.)
One Week as a Deke
One Week as a Deke
One Week as a Deke
In the fall of 1985, my freshman year at Berkeley, I rushed Deke. Put in more basic terms, I pledged Delta Kappa Epsilon, the fraternity to which my mother’s father and his father and a large assortment of uncles and male cousins had belonged. I did not especially want to be a frat boy, mostly because I didn’t like all-male spaces. (As today, more than half of my good friends then were women. Male friendships were and are happy, rare exceptions to a general rule.)