The room already seems too small for the number of eager faces crowding into it. There are so many people talking at the same time that only on occasion can I pick out individual words, the rest is just a blur of noise. What pizza there was had now been reduced to a few lonely, desolated looking slices that no one wanted and pop bottles stood with their bellies half empty. Most people in the room were looking nervous and feeling awkward. Shifty eyes were continually scouting out the next person with a shiny, plastic nametag. Every semester, same house same people same scene, welcome to Akpsi Rush 2012.

A very tall guy holding a half eaten pizza sticks out his hand clumsily and attempts to describe himself. At the end of his brief life story that was partially drowned out by the noise around him, I decide to get some details.

“Sorry, what was your name again? What year are you in?” I lean toward him to pick up his mumbled words.

“I’m Ashay, uh, and I’m a Junior, yeah…” He nods his head affirmatively and tries to master the art of eating and talking at the same time.

I muster up my enthusiasm and try to broaden my smile on a face that I know will be sore by the end of the night, “Great! What are you interested maybe in concentrating in?”

Ashay looks bored and nervous at the same time if that’s possible,  “Uhhhh Finance. Yeah I’m thinking about I-banking.”

So are about 80% of the seniors who graduate from Ross.

Not impressed and yet not surprised, I continue to give the usual spiel, tying in the brotherhood as much as possible. “Okay, I’m very excited to hear that because we definitely have a lot of brothers who are doing that as well. It would be a great opportunity for you to talk to them, just understanding why they chose that industry and what positions they’ve had in the past—it could really help you out in your career path!”

He bobbles his head and after a few more words of conversation that I’m sure neither of us were interested in, he whispers a bye and walks away. I can already feel my energy draining away as I wearily scan the crowd that is already trickling into the yard from overflow.

Just at this moment, I spy a grinning face bobbing my way wearing a decidedly mischievous look.

 “Hey hey!” I say to a red shirted, brown haired boy who has managed to reach me by squeezing uncomfortably through the crowd of people.

He grins ear to ear and begins gesturing to his makeshift nametag. “How ya doing? Do you like my nametag? I’m very proud of it.” He points enthusiastically to an official brotherhood nametag claiming to be “Chuck, Tim’s Friend.”

His British accent makes me smile stereotypically, “Tim’s friend, very nice I like it!”

Having met Chuck only just recently through a mutual friend, Tim, I’m surprised to see him here. As a visiting student from the University of England, he certainly wasn’t rushing and he wasn’t a brother. Still, I found his enthusiasm and humor refreshing in what was otherwise turning out to be a monotonous night.

Before we could continue our conversation, however, I was snatched back to the competitive, edgy atmosphere in the house with another extended hand and another introduction.

This guy nods his head, feigns interest in my life and casually asks the very typical question, “How was the pledge semester for you?”

The thing is, I am actually very excited to talk to all the rushes. These are the people I’m going to be spending the next three years of college with. But somehow, I hadn’t gotten a single original answer or even had an interesting conversation so far. Maybe they were nervous but the buzz in the room was just not translating into excitement for me.

I try to inject some enthusiasm into the rush before me and respond as hyped up as possible, smiling perhaps a little too much.

“Sooooo much fun! You actually meet such a great group of people. I’m actually rooming with one of the girls in my pledge class last semester! It’s a tight community, you really get to meet a great group of people who really become your friends throughout college, and maybe even throughout life!” I can practically see the exclamation marks dancing around me and yet this guy smiles vaguely and nods before politely exiting the conversation.

I turn back to Chuck who has been waiting patiently and pretending he understands the whole rush process, “Hey, how are you?”

His grins impishly and begins talking in an exaggeratedly perky manner.

“Okay, my dream is to get into Ross.” He waves his hands in flourishing gestures and bounces from foot to foot, “And you guys are just great, and, like, I’m great too. And I was president of—everything…because yeah. And I wanna work at a hedge fund.” He pauses to catch his breath and then dusts off the nonexistent dust on his shirt and ends with “Oh and I love Goldman Sachs.”

I cannot help laughing hysterically at the parody he is making of us. His whole manner is so pompous and arrogant and practically dripping in sarcasm, highlighting an almost absurd twist to this whole affair.

Still laughing, I ask “How do you like this so far?”

He dips his head down to hear more clearly amid all the other conversations in the room, “It’s a little weird, I’m not really rushing and I’m not a brother. I don’t want some innocent rush thinking I’m a brother and can actually help him wi—HI!”

He reaches out to shake the proffered hand belonging to a certain Josh who evidently thought talking to this seemingly authentic brother would help him become a pledge. If he knew Chuck was just a visiting friend, would he act so interested? Would he have even come up to talk?

Josh goes through the usual pitch, saying nothing that I could actually remember, and Charlie plays the part of brother passably well, meaning, he passes the torch to me at the first chance possible.

After Josh excuses himself to talk to more brothers I glance at Chuck quizzically and say, “But this must be a little boring for you? Listening to people give these kind of speeches?”

He stops to think for a moment and his face is serious for the first time all night, “It is sort of interesting, because, you hear people trying to sell themselves and no one really enjoys doing it, or most people don’t.”

The grin is quickly back, however, and he makes a joke of it, “Tim was telling me actually, that rushes, in good taste, should try not to even mention the word Ross in the beginning. He told me to regard this with tremendous contempt and scorn.”

We generally don’t favor people who use us strictly to get into Ross but I laugh and try to defend ourselves a bit, “I think Tim told you what they think we want to hear when really we just want to know more about them as a person.”

He sticks his hands in his pockets and considers this for a moment. “Yeah”, he says it almost like a question, neither affirming nor contradicting what I just said.

I try to explain it further, “I mean, our job is to develop them professionally, so it doesn’t really matter how much they’ve already done. We really just want to find a group of people we can hang out with.”

Before I can say more, more hands belonging to more wide smiles are in front of me and I begin to ask them questions in the hopes of somehow remembering their faces for future considerations.

 

 “Oh hi! I’m Beixi!”

“Hi, I’m Aaron.” An Asian dressed in a crewneck and perpetual smirk shakes my hand enthusiastically.

“What year are you in?”

“I’m a freshie” He smirks some more and looks at me down his nose.

I try to keep the conversation rolling, “A freshie? Awesome! How’s it going for you so far?”

 “It is good, good, I’m liking it so far” He draws out the words and can’t figure out what to say next.

I decide to help him out, “What draws you to Akpsi?”

 

 “Hi, I’m John”

“I’m Chuck, I’m not real, I’m not the real thing. She’s real though!”

The rush turns to me slightly confused, “Are you real?”

“I’m real I’m real! How are you?” A new girl walks up, “Oh Julie? Nice to meet you!” I try to include everyone in the slowly expanding group before me. Naturally, as the group forms, people only listen when I talk and completely zone out when the person next to them is talking. They think we don’t notice, but we do.

 

“Hey, I’m Beixi!”

“I’m Justin! Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you! We’re just doing some introductions, tell us a little about yourself.”

“I’m a freshman in LSA and want to get into Ross and I’m interested in marketing or consulting. I did DECA in high school where I placed top in the nation. Junior and senior year I scored top in all my categories, I really enjoyed it!”

     

Several of these conversations later, the yard and house begin to slowly resume their standard state of unruly grass and cracked sidewalk, devoid of the many feet that had been trampling them earlier. My throat is hoarse from shouting above the hubbub and I’m tired from constantly straining to hear above all the similar conversations around me. Despite having talked to so many people, strangely, I feel like I haven’t really talked to anybody at all.

 

“Do you have any advice for rushing a business frat? My sister is in the process and she would really like some helpful pointers.” Cathy sits opposite me on the couch and her voice lilts up hopefully. I smile internally at how I am to answer this question after having just gone through rush.

When Chuck had asked me the same question, I had so confidently responded with “I mean our job is to develop them professionally, so it doesn’t really matter how much they’ve already done. We really just want to find a group of people we can hang out with.”

But this is so clearly a lie.

In the lens of the moment, I didn’t even realize what I was saying. I felt so justified and so excited to be on the other side, my automatic responder was on, giving out pretty answers with no substance. But as I sit here days later, with my friend looking at me expectantly, all I can think of is how stupid and naïve this statement is.

Because, really, it does matter. What they have accomplished before is very much a big factor. Not to say that who they are as a person is not important, it is just that they’re actual accomplishments are no less significant. But why was it so key that I make Chuck understand we were more than cocky businessmen and women on a mission to make money? Why was it essential that I make the process more personal and not so rigid and standard?

Because, in truth, I cannot remember a single person from that night.

They were all so worried about making the right impression that they made absolutely no impression at all. And the scary thing is, I did it too. Why didn’t I ask them any questions that interested me? Like, “What’s something you wish you’ve done but never had the chance to do?” I bet I’d get some interesting responses then.

We tell people what we think we want them to hear, but most times, they only really want to have an actual, genuine conversation.

So I look my friend in the eye and I say for the both of us, “Be yourself”.