The Thetas
By Shawn James
Copyright © 2013 Shawn James
Front cover art designed by and Copyright © 2013 Shawn James
This is a work of fiction. All events, locations, institutions, themes, persons, characters and plot are completely fictional. Any resemblance to places or persons, living or deceased, are purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
What do I want to do with my life?
I’ve been asked that question a lot these past couple of weeks. I can’t say I have an answer just yet. I’ve just been trying to get through the semester.
Two years into my undergrad stint here at New York University and I still haven’t picked a major. I’ve been having too much fun exploring African–American history and women’s studies in between calculus, economics, and core classes. And as much as I enjoy learning about the history of Black womanhood, I know I’ve got to get serious about what I want to do with the rest of my life sooner rather than later–
My train of thought is broken as the elevator stops on the third floor. I head down the Berber carpeted corridor into a madhouse. With the spring semester over, everyone is packing up and going home for the summer. Kids are boxing up their stuff and carting it out of here as far as Japan. I only need to get my backpack and I’m outta here.
I crack open the door to suite #3C to find my former roommate Meghan stuffing her duffle bag with the remainder of her belongings. The tall slender blonde peach–skinned girl dressed in an orange T–shirt and faded out jeans catches my eyes and smiles at me as I enter our former living space.
“Hey Colleen, I thought the movers cleared you out of here last night.” Meghan greets.
“They left my backpack.” I say grabbing the leather book bag off the chair next to my former desk.
Meghan reaches over to grab an envelope on her desk. “Oh– this came for you.” Hand delivered personally.” She says handing me an envelope.
I examine the salmon colored envelope. The stationery is really fancy cotton paper with a pebbled texture. No return address, just three one Greek letter on the front inside of a gold leaf border. If my sixth grade understanding of the Grecian alphabet is right, this letter is Theta.
“I didn’t know you were pledging.” Meghan inquires.
I didn’t know I was pledging either. “I don’t even remember a Theta House on the NYU campus.” I reply. “I never saw this symbol up on the signup sheets on any of the boards.”
“With all those women’s studies and women’s history classes you’re taking you don’t seem like the Sorority type.”
I’m not. Personally I find sororities sexist and demeaning. The female equivalent of an all–boys club that helps keep things separate and unequal. But I’ll give Meg the official Colleen Anderson answer for everything college related. “It’s not my thing, but I’ve got to keep my options open. Can you tell me who gave you this?”
Meghan searches her memory. “Er…These two black girls. All I can remember about them is they were really dressed up. I mean really put together. Designer suits, heels, Gucci bags, and Church hats. Their clothes look like they cost a year’s worth of tuition here.”
Conjuring up an image in my head of these girls I’m imagining the type of well–spoken sophisticates who emphasize their –ings and –angs when they speak. Chocolate covered Barbie dolls. What would they want with me?
“I never thought sororities recruited people. I thought you had to sign up.”
“I thought you had to sign up too.” I say. “Not that I would.”
“So what are you doing for the summer?” Meghan inquires.
“I don’t know Meg I, might just take it easy. All the work I put in this year, all I want to do is sleep.”
“Knowing you, you’re probably gonna head up to Martha’s Vineyard or something and lay in the sun. Isn’t that what families like yours do during the summer?”
We were having such a great conversation. Then she had to bring in the stereotypes. I’ll let it slide because she’s a little more enlightened than some of the other White people I’ve experienced on campus. “I might just stay here in the city Meg. There’s so much to do here.”
“Man, I wish I was rich like you. I’d get an apartment right here in The Village and go see everything. Unfortunately, I’ve got to get back to a summer job in North Carolina.”
“What are you going to be doing?”
“Learning the ins and outs of telecommunications in a customer service environment.”
“You’re working in a call center.”
“Experience is experience. And $10 an hour is pretty good money compared to what I was making here on workstudy.”
I extend my hand. “Good Luck Meg.” Hope I see you next year.”
“It’s been nice sharing a room with you Colleen.” Meghan says shaking it. “Maybe we can do it again next year.”
“I definitely would love to do it again Meg.”
I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head out of my former dorm. The sooner I get back to the penthouse, the sooner I can start solving the mystery of the salmon colored envelope with the Greek letter on it.
Chapter 2
I study the envelope on the cab ride downtown. Still drawing a blank. As soon as I get upstairs I can do a more detailed search on the internet behind the symbol and colors. If sophisticated strangers in designer suits are hand–delivering letters to me on high quality paper, there has to be a reason behind it.
I didn’t want to use the library’s computers because I didn’t want anyone in my business. A search on the Theta sorority could lead to a porn site or a dozen of them. Besides, I wouldn’t get a seat at a terminal anyway. Everyone is checking e–mail, sending messages, and making final travel arrangements before they get ready to head to the airport.
The T1 connection at the penthouse is a lot faster than the local area network at the library. Unfortunately, New York City traffic isn’t. I anxiously peer out the window of the cab waiting for the traffic light to change so I can get home and get some clues regarding the mystery behind this fancy stationery.
I let out a sigh of relief as the light turns green and the cab sprints up Park Avenue and approaches Seventy–Third Street. When the driver eases into the parking space right under the awning of 3430 Park Avenue, I unzip my backpack, pay the fare and stuff the envelope in it. As Earl our doorman marches down the red carpet and opens the door for me, I give him a friendly smile.
“Welcome back Ms. Anderson.” The thin gray haired caramel colored man greets. “How was school?”
“Got through the semester with a 3.99 GPA Earl. How are things with Clarice?”
Earl lights up. “Clarice made the honor roll.”
I knew she could do it if she applied herself. “She keeps pulling grades like that and she’ll be in NYU herself.”
“I don’t know if I could afford NYU on a doorman’s salary.” Earl laughs.
Ms. Wallstien, an old White woman who lives downstairs grimaces watching Earl and I chat. As she approaches the building with her toy poodle, Earl quickly stiffens his body language and pastes a staid expression on his face while he opens the door for her and her dog. I understand he’s keeping things professional to keep his job. I keep things personal by reaching into my backpack and taking out my wallet.
“Maybe this will help with the tuition.” I say as I hand him a tip.
Earl smiles at me then at the $100 bill. “Thank you Ms. Anderson.”
After tipping Earl, I stroll through the lobby to the private elevator at the end of the hall. Anticipation builds inside me on the ride upstairs. As the elevator opens in the foyer of the penthouse, I hear chatter coming from the living room. Daddy must be entertaining a guest. The search on the Th
eta sorority is going to have to wait.
I put on a smile and make my way into the living room where I’m surprised at the sight of my Aunt Margret chatting with Daddy. The thin mocha colored middle–aged woman wearing a pastel colored Chanel suit, bone colored heels, and a pearl necklace jumps off the oxblood nailhead leather sofa and rushes up to me to give me a hug. She wants something.
“Colleen,” Aunt Margret greets as she breaks the embrace. “How are you?”
My smile twists into a grimace. “I’m okay Auntie.”
“I hear you’ve been doing exceptionally well at University.”
“I told her you got straight A’s this semester.” Daddy says from across the sofa.
I flop into the matching oxblood leather chair across from my father. Aunt Margaret sits on the sofa a cushion’s distance from him. “I’m glad you’re doing well in your classes Colleen. But you’re going to need more than good grades if you want to be competitive in the world. What are you doing for extracurriculars?”
“Extracurriculars?”
“You know, school paper, clubs–”
“Er…I’m taking on a six–class course load at NYU. There isn’t any room for extracurricular activities.”
“You do know the girl has to eat and sleep Margaret.” Daddy jokes.
“But Jack, Colleen needs to be better–rounded so she can grow into a balanced person. Everything can’t just be academics.”
“If I get any better–rounded at college I’m gonna need a straight jacket.”
“I just feel you’re not having the educational experience you should be having.”Aunt Margaret continues. “You need to have a social education in addition to an academic one if you’re going to be prepared to run your father’s business affairs–”
God, not this crap again. Ever since I was six years old my whole life has been dedicated towards getting a social education. While other little girls were playing with jump rope and Barbie dolls, I was learning basic etiquette so I could meet with the members of the Anderson Financial Board and our senior executives at company parties. Learning to behave in just the right way. Watching every move I made at the dinner table. Wearing the right clothes. Wearing the right hairstyles. Getting the best grades so I could go to the best private schools. Not doing anything to embarrass the family or tarnish the family name in the public eye. I thought college would be a break from all the pressure I’ve been getting to be social for the past eighteen years.
I roll my eyes. “Does everything have to be about my inevitable destiny?”
“Colleen, you’re going to be taking over Anderson Financial when you get older. Your father needs you to learn all you can so you can be the best leader you can be.”
“I can’t lead others if I don’t have control over myself.” I snarl.
“Well, when I was at university I was in clubs, reported on the school paper, and I was involved in student government. The education I got doing all those things helped me become the woman I am today.”
A pretentious snob who thinks she’s better than everyone else and judges everyone before she even gets to know them. You’re not helping your case Auntie.
“You didn’t go to NYU.”I retort.
“I went to Fisk. It was just as challenging.”
“Still you didn’t go to NYU. We have a nice spot in Washington Square where all the suicidal types have something to aspire to when they decide to end it all.”
“Are you doing anything this summer?” Aunt Margaret asks.
I just got back from college yesterday. Can I get a chance to unwind? “I was planning on sleeping in for two months–”
“I want you to meet with some of the sisters from The Thetas this afternoon.”
I reach into my backpack and pull out the envelope. “So you’re the one behind this fancy stationery I got at the dorms?”
“I see you got our invitation.”
“They missed me.”
“Even so, I’ve asked some of the sisters to drop by the penthouse to discuss your pledging them this summer.”
“Pledging? Wait a minute–”
The buzzer interrupts me. Aunt Margaret rushes over to pick up the phone. “Yes, send them up.”
Chapter 3
Aunt Margaret hangs up the receiver of the intercom and smiles at me eagerly. “Those are the girls from the Thetas. They can’t wait to meet you.”
As Aunt Margaret rushes into the foyer to meet our guests, I get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t know about this Daddy–”
“They just want to talk to you Pumpkin. Hear them out.” Daddy reassures.
I’ll hear them out. But I don’t think I’m going to like what they’re going to say.
Aunt Margaret strolls in followed by a pair of poised, polished young women. The curly haired café au lait colored Theta Sisters saunter into the room dressed in double–breasted pastel colored Chanel suits, pearl necklaces, Gucci purses, Church hats, and high heels with a confident stride. Meghan wasn’t kidding when she said these ladies are put together. I look down at my T–shirt, jeans, and sneakers and feel underdressed in my own house.
“Colleen, I’d like you to meet Marcia Duvalier and Abigail Montgomery. They pledged The Thetas last year.”
“Nice to meet you.” I greet as I shake their hands.
“We’re very pleased to meet you Colleen.” Abigail replies. “We really appreciate you taking the time with us to tell you about The Theta Sisterhood.”
I’ve always been told to speak articulately, but Abigail here speaks so well every word sounds exactly like it reads right out of a dictionary. It’s like she doesn’t have her own voice.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to come out to see me. So why would I want to join your sorority?”
Abagail’s eyes meet mine again and she smiles before she speaks. “The Thetas are an exclusive sisterhood dedicated to preparing young Black women like you and myself with the interpersonal skills we’ll need to compete with in our social circle. Our organization’s program is specifically tailored towards giving members of the families in our circles the social education they’ll need to maintain their family’s businesses and preserve their family’s wealth.”
So in other words A MochaTan Malibu Barbie social club. I’m still planning on sleeping in this summer. “Well, I’ve been getting a social education since I was six. What other benefits would your organization have to offer me?”
Abigail isn’t fazed by my indifference to her pitch. She smiles again before giving me her rehearsed response. “While you may have some training in etiquette and protocol, The Theta Sisterhood offers you an opportunity to be part of a network of Black women all over the United States who will support you in your academic and professional endeavors.”
“How many women are actually in your network?”
“The Theta Sisterhood boasts over two thousand members nationwide.”
“So you’re one of the elite eight?” Daddy asks.
“Unfortunately, The Thetas aren’t part of the National Pan Hellenic Council.” Marcia replies. “We’re an exclusive organization that prefers to operate outside of the African–American fraternal system.”
“And why don’t you operate within the African–American fraternal system? I ask.”
“We feel by operating outside of the National Pan Hellenic Council we can provide a better experience for our members.” Marcia answers. “Our sisterhood is a lot closer than most of the chapters in the elite eight.”
“So you tend to retain more members.” Daddy inquires.
“Yes. While many of the members of the elite eight have left their sororities over the years all of our members like your late mother and your aunt Margaret have maintained lifetime relationships with The Thetas throughout its nearly sixty year history.”
“The support your aunt has given me over the past few months mentoring me has helped me tremendously in planning my future.” Abigail persuades.
Aunt
Margaret smiles as she takes her cue to come in on their sales pitch. “And I’d like to offer you that same support when I sponsor you for initiation into The Thetas this summer.”
“Hold on. This summer?–”
“With the semester being over I think this would be a wonderful opportunity for you to network, build up your interpersonal skills and add some extracurricular activities to your academic experience.” Aunt Margaret chimes.
“I just came in the door from finishing sophomore year at NYU–”
“And the best time for you to pledge us is during undergraduate.” Marcia says. “It’ll help you smoothly transition into our network of contacts after graduation.”
“I’m just not eager to head back out to a sorority house on campus–”
The girls laugh. “The Theta House isn’t on a college campus Colleen.” Abigail replies. As I stated before, this is an exclusive organization. We’re not affiliated with any university.”
That doesn’t help with the sale. “So what’s with this sponsoring? Is there a sign–up sheet somewhere?”
Abigail and Marcia giggle at me. The way they snicker at me makes me feel like I’m being laughed at, not laughed with. “Sign up sheet?” Abigail giggles. “The Thetas don’t do signup sheets Colleen. All Theta Pledges have to be sponsored by family members.”
“With your aunt and your late mother both being exemplary members in good standing, you more than meet the qualifications for admission into The Thetas.”
“If your mother were still alive, she’d definitely want you to be a part of The Thetas.” Aunt Margaret says.
“Knowing Millie, she’d probably be sponsoring you herself.” Daddy chimes in.
Thanks for putting me on the spot Daddy. Nothing like playing the Mom card to guilt me into doing anything. And me being a good daughter, I’m going to honor the woman who brought me into this world in spite of my misgivings and reservations.
“I guess I’m pledging this summer.”I sigh.
“Great.” Marcia says as she and Abigail jump off the sofa. “We’ll be looking forward to seeing you at the Theta House this summer.”
I paste on a smile as I escort our guests out to the foyer and press the button for the private elevator. “I’m sure it’ll be fun.”