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1 27 765 


A campus report on racial 

and religious prejudice by 



Alfred McClung Lee, author of How to Understand Propaganda 
and co-author of Social Problems in America and other books, is 
chairman of the department of sociology and anthropology at Brook- 
lyn College. He has also been on the faculties of Yale, the University 
of Kansas, New York University, Wayne University, and the University 
of Michigan. He is past president of the Society for the Study of 
Social Problems, the Eastern Sociological Society, and the Unitarian 
Fellowship for Social Justice. 

As an undergraduate at the University of Pittsburgh, he was in- 
ducted into three fraternities: Sigma Chi (social), Sigma Delta Chi 
(professional journalistic), and Omicron Delta Kappa (campus leader- 
ship) . He is also a member of the Society of the Sigma Xi (honorary 
scientific research) and Alpha Kappa Delta (sociological). 

Without Brotherhood 

A Study of Prejudice on Hie American Campus 



Library of Ooogress catalog card, irumfoer: S5-1O919 

in U.S.A. 




Preface ix 

The National Committee on Fraternities in Edu- 
cation xii 

1. Will Fraternities Avoid Self-destruction? . . 3 

2. Greek Excludes Greek 15 

3. Where Fraternity Means Brotherhood ... 33 

4. Deadlines for Democracy 48 

5. Aryanism Goes Underground .... 77 

6. Schools for Prejudice? 102 

7. The Case for Real Fraternities .... 121 

Bibliographical Notes 133 

Index 153 


This is a report to college students, parents, and educators 
concerning the chief defect in a cherished campus institu- 
tion, the social fraternity. This defect may be summed up as 
"Aryanism" the acceptance and rejection of persons for 
membership on grounds of race, religion, and national 

To the extent that Aryanism persists in them, social 
fraternities represent a basic threat to democracy in the 
United States and to the effectiveness of American leadership 
in world affairs. If men's and women's social fraternities will 
rid themselves of this disastrous theory and practice, they 
can contribute greatly to the development of democratic 

As the National Interfraternity Conference declared in its 
1941 statement, Principles of Democracy, social fraternities 
should adhere "steadfastly to social, religious, political and 
economic democracy as the only sound basis for a satisfying 
personal and national life.** Under democracy, individuals 
are accepted or rejected for personal reasons not because 
of group labels applied to them. 

llbis book grows out of the work of the National Commit- 
tee on Fraternities in Education, which was formed in 1953 
by a group of educators, clergymen, and civic leaders con- 
cerned with this problem. The members of the committee 
believe that social fraternities can more generally become 



microcosms of democratic society, in which cross sections of 
the students on a campus can obtain important experiences 
in democratic living. 

The committee has several purposes: (a) to assemble 
information on developments in fraternity policies and prac- 
tices; (b) to undertake appropriate research and study, 
including further examination of the damage to educational 
objectives and to personality development already indicated 
by preliminary evidence; (c) to offer information and con- 
sultation services to fraternities, colleges, student organiza- 
tions, and the general public; (d) to stimulate consultation 
among alumni, undergraduate fraternity leaders, and college 
administrators and trustees, in order to promote under- 
standing of the problem and the means for corrective action, 
campus by campus; and (e) to encourage colleges, national 
organizations, and alumni to recognize the importance of 
permitting young people to select their own companions on 
the basis of personal criteria. 

A great many persons associated with the National Com- 
mittee on Fraternities in Education and with local and 
national fraternities, colleges and universities, and religious 
and ethnic organizations have been helpful in the develop- 
ment of the committee's activities and of this book. Many 
of these debts are suggested in the text and in the notes, 
but I wish to make certain additional acknowledgments 

My fellow officers and board members of the National 
Committee on Fraternities in Education have aided in many 
ways. Through conferences, consultation, and correspond- 
ence, they have generously shared their knowledge and 
ideas in this area. Their names are listed on page xii. 

Mrs. Horace S. Manges aided in investigation and in 
checking interpretations. Professors George Simpson, 


Charles Radford Lawrence, and Gerald Henderson made 
many keen suggestions. 

As always, my wife, Dr. Elizabeth Briant Lee, read and 
criticized each draft of the manuscript and furnished en- 
couragement during the whole writing process. As a mem- 
ber of the Kappa Kappa Gamma fraternity, and from her 
experience as a professorial counselor to women students, 
she helped to bring women's fraternities more adequately 
into this report. 

None of these friends and associates shares, of course, 
my responsibility for the final content of this book. 

Finally, I want to mention my indebtedness to my brothers 
in Beta Theta chapter of the Sigma Chi fraternity. They 
furnished me with my first and most intimate case study 
of life in a college social fraternity. If the ideals of Sigma 
Chi were to be implemented, it could become what it is not 
now one of the most democratic of social fraternities. 

A. McC. L. 

Malverne, Long Island 


Alfred McClung Lee (Brooklyn College), president 
Noel P. Gist (University of Missouri), vice-president 
Erling Hunt (Columbia University), vice-president 
Alfred S. Romer (Harvard University), vice-president 
Robert C. Weaver (Whitney Foundation), vice-president 
Edwin H. Wilson (Yellow Springs, Ohio), secretary 
Samuel Atkin, M.D. (New York), treasurer 

Other Board Members 

Read Bain (Miami University, Oxford, Ohio) 
William H. Baldwin, (New York) 
Robert Bierstedt (City College of New York) 
Harry J. Carman (Columbia University) 
Rev. L. Maynard Catchings (National Council, YMCA) 
George L. Cohen (New York) 
Rev. Maurice A. Dawkins (Los Angeles) 
Mabel A. Elliott (Pennsylvania College for Women) 
Melville J. Herskovits (Northwestern University) 
Rev. John Paul Jones (Brooklyn) 
Max Lerner (Brandeis University) 
Simon Marcson ( Brooklyn College ) 
N. M. McKnight (Columbia University) 
Francis E. Merrill (Dartmouth College) 
Rev. Harry C. Meserve (San Francisco) 
SidneyS. Moyer (Youngstown) 
Rev. Leslie T. Pennington (Chicago) 
Rev. Tracy Minton Pullman (Detroit) 
Robert Risk, D.D.S. (Indianapolis) 
J. Waties Waring (U.S. District Court, South Carolina, 


Wellman J. Warner (New York University) 
Herrick B. Young (Western College for Women) 




Will Fraternities Avoid 

The crucial problem facing men's and women's fraternities 
is not scholarship or hazing or wild parties but self -segrega- 
tion segregation on the basis of race, ethnic origin, and 
religion. Although fraternities have taken positive steps to 
deal with scholarship, hazing, and parties, only a very few 
have seen the need to combat and eliminate self -segregation. 

When Phi Delta Theta suspended its Williams and Am- 
herst chapters in 1953 for pledging "non- Aryans," the action 
aroused widespread concern about the damaging conse- 
quences of the fraternity system. In 1954 the Phi Delts 
changed their constitutional requirement for admission 
from "full Aryan blood" to "socially acceptable"; but they 
demonstrated their real policy by sustaining the suspension 
of the Amherst and Williams chapters. 

The Past Grand Consul (president) of the Sigma Chi 
fraternity, L. G. Balfour, a leading manufacturer of jewelry 
for fraternities, in 1954 discussed the function of fraternities 
in a communication to a conference of undergraduate Sigma 
Chi officers. "The college," Balfour asserted, "can educate 
no one. At best, it can only give to the individual an op- 
portunity to educate himself; and potentially at least, the 
fraternity is the best medium of self-education which has 
yet been devised on the American campus." 



This contention is typical among fraternity leaders. They 
see the fraternity as an intimate and dynamic laboratory 
in human relations. As Balfour told his young fraternity 
brothers, "The avowed object of a fraternity is to promote 
the art of effective living with our brothers the develop- 
ment of the individual in all his relations with society." 

This view pictures the social fraternity as what it can be: 
a valuable social experience for young men and women on 
our college campuses, an approach to problems of human 
relations different from that of the classroom and other 
noncurricular campus activities. But the problem this study 
examines is not what that experience sometimes can be but 
what it usually is. 

How do fraternity leaders react to the growing criticism? 
At the November 28, 1947, meeting of the National Inter- 
fraternity Conference in New York, its current chairman, 
David A. Embury, insisted that people should "stop shiver- 
ing at the word discrimination. ... I love the discriminating 
tongue, the discriminating eye, the discriminating ear, and, 
above all, the discriminating mind and . . . soul. The person 
for whom I can find no love and no respect is the indis- 
criminate person. To be indiscriminate is to be common, 
to be vulgar." 

In 1954 Balfour criticized discussion of the evils of dis- 
crimination as a means of leading fraternities "involuntarily 
into regimentation and control." This danger, he said, is all 
the more real because "college youth has always been gen- 
erous, idealistic, and very democratic." (Bsifour's large 
fraternity officially restricts its membership to white male 
Christians. ) 

For a while, certain fraternity leaders experimented with 
a "red-scare'* technique to counteract widespread opposition 
to self-segregative practices. For example, Professor Wil- 


liam Henry Shideler of Miami University at Oxford, Ohio, 
stated in the December 1951 issue of the Phi Kappa Tau 

The drive to 'liberalize 9 ' fraternities is one that has no fundamental 
basis for action. Yet all over the U.S., too simultaneously to be acci- 
dental and affecting too many campuses where there has never been 
a problem to be spontaneous, we find a very similar pattern of attack 
upon fraternities by deans of men, directors of student affairs and 
professors of sociology, government, and psychology. The pattern has 
been so nearly identical that one cannot avoid the conclusion that it 
all came from an original source. 

It was his "personal idea/* Shideler said, "that this is just 
another case where some well-intentioned, but misguided 
people have been sucked into a deal initiated by the Com- 
munists." The wide distribution of such views has confused 
some Americans. But in general, responsible leaders, 
whether committed to discrimination or not, have not 
stooped to such propagandist^ name-calling. 

Racial and religious discrimination is not limited to a 
small group of organizations. The executive committee of 
the National Interfraternity Conference (NIC), which rep- 
resents the sixty-one most prominent men's "nationals," met 
in Balfour's home at Attleboro, Massachusetts, in July 1954, 
to record in its minutes its unanimous concern about pres- 
sure from the colleges against fraternity discrimination. The 
executive committee complained that "various institutions 
apparently contemplate restricting the traditional freedom 
of fraternities to choose their own members." It unani- 
mously resolved that "more unified action, such as the with- 
drawal of all charters at an institution, may be necessary 
or desirable as a means of self-preservation/* 

But four months later The Teke, published by one of the 
NICs largest members, Tau Kappa Epsilon, strongly pro- 
tested against the use of such a boycott: "For the NIC 
fraternities now to boycott colleges frowning on discrimina- 


tory clauses could have only one result suicide of the 
fraternities participating in such action. It is hoped that 
the pitfalls of such unwise procedure will be recognized 
before it is too late" 

The December 1954 convention of the National Inter- 
fraternity Conference failed to support the executive com- 
mittee's proposal to boycott certain colleges. An official 
summary of the minutes states that "delegates said, problems 
in specific cases should be worked out by the procedure of 
direct and friendly negotiation with the authorities con- 
cerned, rather than by threats of boycott or by recourse to 
the courts." 

The NIC's opposite number, the National Panhellenic 
Conference of thirty-two women's social fraternities, rarely 
refers to such matters in its official minutes. Very quietly 
and, in all but one case, without written statements of 
policy sororities segregate themselves even more effec- 
tively than the fraternities do. 

State universities have begun to take action. The Univer- 
sity of Connecticut, for example, has forced four chapters 
to sever their national ties in order to comply with a uni- 
versity ban on discriminatory membership policies. 

Elsewhere "white" sorority chapters have stood by their 
pledging of Indian and Negro sisters. Men's fraternity 
chapters have defied their nationals to break self-segrega- 
tive mandates. And many educators and civic leaders and 
newspaper editors have cheered the democratic spirit of 
these undergraduates. 

Then, on November 8, 1954, the United States Supreme 
Court sustained a decision that may be of long-range im- 
portance to the fraternity system. The State University 
of New York had attempted to eliminate racial and religious 
discrimination from fraternity admissions practices on its 


twenty-seven campuses. It had succeeded fairly well among 
the 'locals" fraternities not affiliated with national so- 
cieties but it had met with stubborn resistance, evasion, 
and subterfuge among the chapters of nationals. The 
university gave the chapters until October 1958 to sever 
all connections with nationals or cease to exist. The 
Supreme Court of the United States sanctioned this action. 

The State University of New York considers all facilities 
under its supervision to be part of its educational operations. 
It permits and regulates fraternities on its campuses for the 
social experience they provide. After examining carefully 
the recruitment practices of these groups, the university 
officials concluded that the university had actually permitted 
the development of a double standard of admission to its 
facilities a fair one for its classrooms and an unfair one 
for many of its social fraternities. The officials contended 
that self-segregation in these groups undermines the health- 
ful social experiences of students. 

The ruling by the Supreme Court assures the right of 
public institutions to define the policies that govern fraternal 
groups on their campuses. In addition, the May 17, 1954, 
decisions of the United States Supreme Court dealing with 
the desegregation of public schools outline a doctrine of 
integration that might eventually be interpreted as affecting 
fraternal social groups in public colleges. These rulings, 
taken together, thus vitally affect the future of these associa- 
tions. In matters other than membership restrictions, na- 
tionals frequently perform useful functions. They have done 
a great deal to stimulate scholarship among their under- 
graduates. They help provide service programs for college 
communities. They assist locals to plan for and to meet 
financial problems. They provide recognition and prestige 
possible only on a national scale. Thus, the irresponsible 
policies of certain nationals endanger not only the existence 


of nationals but quite likely place the future of the whole 
social fraternity system in jeopardy. 

There are now about 400,000 undergraduate fraternity 
members in chapters of nationals and in locals. (The mem- 
bers of professional and honorary societies are not included 
in this figure.) More than a hundred large nationals are 
represented by chapters on more than five hundred 
campuses. The number of national chapters has expanded 
from about 2,500 to over 4,200 in the decade since World 
War II largely through absorption of existing independ- 
ent locals. One men's fraternity, Tau Kappa Epsilon, has 
added sixty-five new chapters; twenty men's nationals have 
added fifteen or more chapters each. Between 1949 and 1953 
alone, TKE added 46 chapters, \vhile three other men's 
nationals each accepted 23 to 38 chapters. Incidentally, 
TKE is not only the fastest-growing fraternity but also (as 
we shall show in Chapter 3) one of those most strongly 
opposed to racial and religious discrimination. 

While the college population has increased roughly 50 
per cent between 1940 and 1954, the fraternity and sorority 
population has more than doubled. 

Less than one-fifth of all college students join the social- 
fraternity system; but it should be realized that many de- 
nominational colleges, with combined enrollments of over 
400,000, do not encourage fraternities. At large metropoli- 
tan institutions, the undergraduate campus residents con- 
stitute only a small proportion of the total student body; 
and fraternal groups are much more likely to enroll resident 
students than commuters and part-time students. At Co- 
lumbia University, for example, about one-third of the 
students in the men's college are fraternity members; but 
nine-tenths of the university's undergraduates are enrolled 
in its other colleges and very few of these are members. 
The women's college at Columbia (Barnard) bans sororities. 


At residential colleges where fraternities exist, frequently 
one-fourth to more than one-half of the students are mem- 
bers, and these to a large extent include those students who 
are more likely to succeed in careers calling for sociable and 
actionist abilities. 

Further expansion of the fraternity system during the 
1950's and 1960's appears probable. The wartime and 
postwar increase in births is expected to cany total college 
enrollments beyond five million, more than double their 
present level. A parallel expansion in college units and 
facilities is under way. Many junior colleges are becoming 
full four-year institutions, which will for die first time pro- 
vide attractive opportunities for fraternities. A number of 
teacher-training schools are being changed into more gen- 
eral colleges; although fraternities previously avoided teach- 
ers' colleges, many nationals are now seeking out these 
refurbished institutions. 

During this era of fraternity expansion, public interest 
has often centered on two principal criticisms the charge 
of prolonging student immaturity and the charge of restric- 
tive membership practices. These criticisms are related, 

The contention that fraternities prolong adolescence is 
reminiscent of comments by overprotective parents concern- 
ing their children's Tiorrible" playmates. Apparently both 
parents and parent-substitutes in our society too easily 
become overprotective. They usually assume that the moral 
teachings of home and school are enough to equip the next 
generation for maturity. It gives them an easy feeling of 
security to assume that our moral rituals can and should 
define rather precisely the behavior of other people, espe- 
cially children and youth. 

These adults ignore the need felt by children to achieve a 
degree of personal independence as a part of their struggle 


for maturity (a subject to which we shall return in Chapter 
6). Fraternities, as successors to childhood play groups and 
forerunners of adulthood vocational and recreational groups, 
can help many young people toward personal independence 
and maturity. 

To replace the social fraternity, faculty members often 
advocate the group or club centered around special inter- 
ests politics, music, science, and other vocations and 
avocations. The chief difficulty with such clubs, especially 
in these tense days of carefully controlled and insulated 
campuses, is their dependence upon experts (faculty mem- 
bers and equivalent outsiders ) for guidance and thereby 
for considerable control. 

The volume-length mimeographed codes dealing with the 
"recognition" and "regulation" of campus organizations are 
often shockingly restrictive, especially at public institutions. 
They show conclusively that "recognized" campus interest 
groups often are only extensions of the classroom. These 
codes are preoccupied largely with ways to block "contro- 
versial" activities, practices that might bring the institution 
as a whole into unfavorable public attention (even though 
some of them might be invaluable educationally). The only 
voluntary student organizations to which college admin- 
istrations still grant relatively high autonomy are social 

Let us look again, and in this context, at the other major 
criticism of fraternities. This is the contention that they 
necessarily build upon snobbishness and especially upon 
discrimination against persons of other racial and religious 
groups upon Aryanism in one form or another. In faculty 
dining rooms and committee meetings, this is the most seri- 
ous reason voiced for reforming or eliminating fraternal 

Fraternities are of course important instruments among 


students for the rating of one another. Joseph K. Folsom, 
in The Family and Democratic Society (1943), says: 

Competition for prestige is especially prominent in state universities 
with a vigorous fraternity culture and social stratification. Such insti- 
tutions are attended by students from an unusually wide range on 
the social scale; there is a tendency to protect one's social ranking in 
college through a certain snobbishness, and there is also a great drive 
toward social climbing. Fraternities are important agencies in this 
struggle for prestige. 

This snobbishness tends to pervade a great many aspects of 
a member's campus life. Professor Folsom continues: 

The fraternities and sororities apply considerable social pressure 
to the "dating" of their members. One gets merits, whether formally 
recorded or not, for dating with a co-ed of a high-ranking sorority, 
demerits for associating with an "independent." 

Rating systems and their importance in campus life differ 
widely. They depend upon such factors as the student ratio 
between the sexes, the homogeneity or heterogeneity of 
student backgrounds, and vocational goals. The question 
is not whether snobbishness can be from campus 
dating and mating. This is unlikely. Some degree of snob- 
bishness an affectation of social importance and exclusive- 
ness arises in part from our relatively open campus com- 
petition. It is an effort to short-circuit competition. 

The important question is whether "rating" with its 
sense of invidious distinction in terms of available criteria 
can be prevented from depriving students of opportuni- 
ties to know and understand a broad range of people. In 
other words, can students be permitted and encouraged to 
rate one another in terms of personal criteria? Must fra- 
ternities continue to force members, as so often happens 
now, to avoid all who happen to fall into certain racial and 
religious categories? 

Even though students are often preoccupied with court- 


ship problems, rating has goals otlier than dating and mat- 
ing. As students gain in experience with a range of per- 
sonalities, the general rating process can lead to better bases 
for understanding other people through evaluation in terms 
of their personal worth. If our campus social structures can 
move further away from the primitive tribalism reflected in 
the rejection of entire categories and toward the evaluation 
of people as individuals, the answer to the basic problem can 
be hopeful. 

The rating systems of students, both for fraternal and other 
purposes, tend to be more democratic than those in the 
adult community. In the case of outstanding personal su- 
periority in athletics, charm, beauty, or leadership, the usual 
ethnic and even racial barriers may be ignored. By and large 
the struggle against racial and religious discrimination is 
being led not by college administrators or national fraternity 
leaders but by undergraduates. 

These student leaders have found that administrative ac- 
tion is necessary in order to consolidate their gains; but most 
institutions have yet to take a stand on the issue. Among 
the 125 leading "fraternity colleges" those with twelve 
or more fraternities surveyed recently by the National 
Committee on Fraternities in Education, only 30 have 
undertaken any form of responsible action. Of these 30, 10 
have done little but express hope; 12 have barred new dis- 
criminatory social fraternities; and only 8 have taken positive 
steps to cope with present biased membership practices. 
Among the 20 in the two latter categories are the University 
of California, the State University of New York, and the 
City Colleges of New York, all with many campuses and 
huge enrollments. But at 95 of the 125 colleges surveyed 
the policy of the administration is apparently a negative 
one, a f ailure to accept responsibility even when asked to do 
so by undergraduates. 


Chapter 3 describes examples of democratic integration in 
fraternities and on campuses, and Chapter 4 discusses in 
detail steps that have been taken toward the elimination 
of compulsory restrictions leading to group snobbishness. 
As Henry Merritt Wriston, retiring president of Brown 
University, has observed, racial and religious restrictions 
in fraternities would disappear if left to the students them- 
selves. Elmo Roper's nationwide survey of the opinions of 
college students in 1949 revealed that 60 per cent opposed 
any group rejection by fraternities. Only 20 per cent favored 
group exclusion. An additional 20 per cent recommended 
quota systems. (The results of this poll are discussed at 
greater length in Chapter 4. ) 

Unfortunately student fraternity members are themselves 
involved in a system that prevents them from being very 
effective in making changes. It is a system over which 
undergraduates have little control and which keeps many of 
them from exercising the right of free association with 
'"brothers" or "sisters" of their own choice. Most national 
men's and women's fraternities are governed if not nom- 
inally, then actually by alumni. These alumni leaders are 
not, it must be stressed, a cross section of fraternity and 
sorority alumni. Many who take active roles in national 
fraternal affairs are caricatures of the worst aspects of the 
system and are completely wedded to the fraternity status 
quo. Recruited from among such alumni and helping to 
perpetuate ultra-clannish tendencies are the fraternity 
bureaucrats. Nonconformist chapters occasionally rally large 
groups of graduates to their support, but these forces rarely 
have been able to sustain for a long enough period the effort 
necessary to effect a basic change. 

Offensive clauses in fraternity constitutions are now fast 
disappearing. The number of such clauses in National Inter- 


fraternity Conference nationals has fallen from 25 to 10, and 
in National Panhellenic Conference nationals to 1. But the 
abolition of restrictive clauses is merely a first step; it ignores 
other means for maintaining restrictive practices. It may 
remove an obstacle; it does not promote integration. 

To move toward actual integration, considerable research 
and planning and enthusiasm are necessary. There will be no 
extensive change unless forward-looking colleges, alumni, 
and students co-operate effectively. 

The nationals, which are essential to the influence and 
prestige of the present fraternity system, have a choice. 
How will they exercise that choice? Emasculation of the 
nationals through default on this important responsibility 
would lead to the emergence of other types of social groups 
(as has already happened at Harvard, Oberlin, and Prince- 

Nazi Germany shocked the world with its doctrine of 
Aryanism. In the United States, many college social fra- 
ternities, whether by official policy statement or by sub-rosa 
"gentlemen's agreement," have adopted their own version 
of Aryanism and applied it to various racial and religious 
groups Jewish, Catholic, Protestant, Greek, Italian, In- 
dian, Oriental, Negro, white. As it is candidly put by Louis 
Foley, editor of the Emerald of Sigma Pi, "our traditional 
attitude of superiority toward non-Aryan races is something 
which most Europeans have found difficult to understand." 
The continued existence of social fraternities on many Amer- 
ican campuses will depend in part upon whether they are 
willing to eliminate their discriminatory policies and prac- 


Greek Excludes Greek 

Exclusiveness breeds more and more precise and complex 
rules of exclusion. 

One sorority of white gentile girls at the University of 
Missouri excludes students of Greek background Just be- 
cause they are Greek. The sorority has, of course, a Greek- 
letter name. 

Professor Noel Pitts Gist of that university reports further 
that "any student who looks or acts' foreign is likely to be 
by-passed in rushing activities of this organization. For ex- 
ample, if a girl with an Italian background looks* Italian, 
she will not be rushed for membership." 

It is not the person but the category that is excluded. 
The person may be thought quite congenial and desirable 
but still be excluded. For example, the Phi Mu Delta chapter 
at the University of New Hampshire in 1946 pledged the son 
of a Massachusetts judge, and he moved into the fraternity 
house. Then the college dean advised fraternity members 
that because the man was Jewish they should clear his 
eligibility with their national organization. The national 
ordered the chapter to cancel his pledge and to move the 
man out of the house. 

A chapter member who witnessed the event describes 
it: "It was awful . . . The kid's parents came to help hiTn 
move to the dormitory. I remember how terrible it was. 



His mother was crying. But what was worse was his father. 
That man didn't say a word to anyone." 

At the University of Rhode Island in June 1951, Alpha 
Xi Delta sorority was split over the issue of pledging a Nar- 
ragansett Indian girl because its national constitution at 
that time restricted membership to white girls. Six members, 
including the campus May queen and the chapter president, 
resigned in protest. 

How did men's and women's fraternities come by these 
primitive segregative policies? Is exclusiveness essential to 

Like the history of many other human organizations, that 
of American college social fraternities reveals a split between 
assertions of high aspiration, on the one hand, and less-than- 
noble performance, on the other. After making a detailed 
study of secret societies in primitive tribes, the social 
scientists William Graham Sumner and Albert Galloway 
Keller pointed out characteristics similar to those of modern 
lodges and college fraternities: 

Undoubtedly they reveal a religious aspect; any important primi- 
tive institution is sure to do that; nevertheless there is no question, 
upon deeper study of these organizations, that they . . . are adjust- 
ments for political and social regulation rather than responses merely 
to the imaginary environment of ghosts and spirits. 

Masonic lodges in this country date from about 1730. A 
predecessor of the Tammany societies and of the Improved 
Order of Red Men was formed in 1764. And the first college 
social fraternity with a Greek-letter name and a secret ritual 
was established at William and Mary College in 1776. Its 
name was Phi Beta Kappa. Within a few years, this fra- 
ternity had established chapters at Harvard, Yale, and Dart- 

At the beginning of the nineteenth century, secret brother- 


hoods in the United States probably had less than four 
thousand members: about three thousand Freemasons, five 
or six hundred members of the Tammany societies, and 
scattered members of Phi Beta Kappa. During the nine- 
teenth century, more than six hundred secret societies arose 
here or were imported into this country. In 1900, more than 
half of these still continued, and the movement flourished. 
There were then 37 men's and 20 women's national social 

The peak of membership in all types of secret societies 
probably came in the late 1920's. There were then some 
eight hundred secret orders of all kinds, with an aggregate 
membership of approximately thirty-five million. In assess- 
ing trends in their membership, the sociologist J. F. Steiner 
observed (1933): 

Their rites and ceremonies have lost much of their former appeal. 
There is widespread complaint that their meetings are no longer well 
attended. Business and professional men are tending to transfer their 
interests elsewhere. Members from the working classes, who still 
cling to the lodge, are likely to do so largely because of its insurance 

With the rise of such "service" clubs as Rotary and Ki- 
kanis, trade unions (especially industrial unions), and vet- 
erans* organizations with inclusive social programs, and with 
other changes in American social life, secret societies in the 
general community have declined sharply. Professor Gist 
attributes the weakening of such societies to competition 
from leisure-time agencies cinema, radio, daily news- 
paper, and automobile, as well as card playing, luncheon 
clubs, and sports all of which "tended to undermine the 
fraternal system through their wide appeal to the masses." 
The Supreme Chancellor of the Knights of Pythias asserted 
in 1940 that "the day for all our fancy signs, salutations, pass- 
words, and similar matters has long since ceased to exist/' 


But meanwhile, as we showed in Chapter 1, social fra- 
ternities on college campuses have continued to expand in 
size and in influence, especially since World War II. 

Phi Beta Kappa, originally organized as a social and lit- 
erary fraternity, did not become a nonsecret honor society 
until many years later. Such early fraternities usually had 
both social and intellectual purposes. They helped their 
members develop skills in writing, debate, and human rela- 
tions. At a time when college curricula tended to be narrow 
and inflexible, fraternities early became an informal way to 
make American college education more practical and easier 
to assimilate. Bairtfs Manual of American College Fraterni- 
ties (1949) tells how early fraternities 

. . . were encouraged by the faculties. They were given prominent 
places in college catalogues, their worth being suggested by a quota- 
tion from one of these publications: "Each of these societies has thus 
far been fully equal to a professorship; and the manner in which 
mind comes into contact with mind in these voluntary democratic 
associations is admirably well adapted for the development of every 
natural talent with which any young man may be endowed/* 

The current type of social fraternity has seldom enjoyed 
such academic enthusiasm. In its rituals derived from ancient 
tribal patterns (and exemplified in Masonic, Odd Fellow, 
and other lodge rituals), the modern social fraternity system 
still perpetuates the idealism of the early Phi Beta Kappa 
type of Greek-letter society. These rituals glorify brother- 
hood and other humane aspirations as well as the scholarly 
pursuit of knowledge and leadership. 

The present type of college social fraternity traces its 
lineage most directly back to 1825 and Union College at 
Schenectady, New York, the "mother" of such organizations. 
In the three early nationals originated at Union, ritualistic 
mysticism and secrecy were combined with social activities. 


For the next half-century, college social fraternities pro- 
gressed slowly. College administrators looked with suspicion 
upon their secrecy and pranks and considered them a divert- 
ing influence. Most institutions banned them. Some even 
went so far as to require each student to promise that he 
would not join such a society. Most fraternities led an 
underground existence until after the Civil War. 

Then, with the spread of industry and the expansion of 
higher education, fraternities came more into the open and 
began to win recognition. In the 187ffs, they were joined 
by the women's fraternities, sometimes called "sororities." 
Pi Beta Phi, at first known as I.C. Sorosis, dates from 1867 
at Monmouth College, in Illinois, where Kappa Kappa 
Gamma was also founded in 1870. Another of the early 
women's fraternities, Kappa Alpha Theta, was formed in 
1870 at Indiana Asbuiy (now DePauw) University. 

This expanded role and recognition of men's and women's 
fraternities in many ways was a result of the increased use 
of higher education as a prestige requirement for tech- 
nicians, engineers, and other specialists in a business society. 
Those seeking a college diploma for such purposes were 
invading what had been training schools for teachers and 
clerics or finishing schools for the leisurely wealthy. The 
social fraternities helped to modify the traditional liberal- 
arts education to meet demands of a less intellectual striving 
for status. Says Bair&s Manual (1949): 

President [William Harold] Cowley of Hamilton College has 
called the fraternities a $75,000,000 protest against the intellectualism 
of the college. And much of the criticism aimed at the fraternities 
appears to be flavored with resentment that fraternity men are less 
amenable to an intellectual approach to life and to regimentation of 
their thinking and doing. 

This anti-academic barb from the principal directory of 
college fraternities is fairly typical of the less guarded state- 


ments by fraternity leaders. Whereas Phi Beta Kappa had 
been absorbed into the faculty-dominated status system of 
liberal-arts colleges, subsequent social fraternities developed 
into a competing status system, one dominated by non- 
academic alumni and by peer-group members. 

Actually the thinking of fraternity members tends to be 
somewhat regimented. And any good liberal-arts-and- 
sciences faculty devotes considerable time to the develop- 
ment of intellectual ferment. The affinity of social fra- 
ternities for such "practical" and regimented curricula as 
those of business administration is not accidental. 

By 1880 social fraternities had acquired such influence 
that they were able to bring about the dismissal of the 
president of Purdue University, who had promulgated a 
policy of requiring students to disavow intentions of affilia- 
tion with a fraternity. This date marks the approximate 
turning point in the history of social fraternities. Earlier, 
chapters were often established sub rosa, and fraternities had 
difficulty in fighting restrictive measures and legislation. 
After this date, their influence in political, business, and 
hence educational circles had increasingly to be reckoned 

Thus it might be said that American colleges first em- 
braced the social fraternity system in the early 1880's after 
a half-century of haphazard growth. Shortly thereafter, the 
issue of racial and religious restrictions on membership 
selection began to arise. As long as student bodies were 
rather homogeneous, most fraternities had no expressed 
policy on the subject because none was needed. Practices 
of exclusion were observed without their being formally 

As minority-group members began to attend American 
colleges in greater numbers, one of their first reactions to 
the generally exclusionist practices of fraternities was to 


set up their own minority groups. At Brown University in 
1889 a fraternity was formed with the name of Phi Kappa 
Sigma. The Greek letters stood for the words "Fraternity 
of Catholic Students/' It came into being because many 
other fraternities did not accept Roman Catholics. Later, 
because another social fraternity had already pre-empted 
the same name, the Roman Catholics changed theirs in 1900 
to Phi Kappa. Chapters are located chiefly on the campuses 
of non-Catholic colleges and universities. In general the 
educational institutions of the Roman Catholic Church ex- 
clude social fraternities; but Catholic, Detroit, Duquesne, 
Loyola at Chicago, Loyola at New Orleans, Marquette, and 
Saint Louis universities have locals and a few nationals. 
The latter include one chapter of Phi Kappa, chapters of 
Alpha Gamma Delta (a Roman Catholic national estab- 
lished in 1924), and the chapters of minority-group fraterni- 
ties intended to serve Jews, Latin Americans, and Negroes. 

Another reaction to the segregationist trend was the 
establishment in 1895 of Pi Lambda Phi, "not a narrow 
esoteric fraternity, but a fraternity in which all men were 
brothers, no matter what their religion." The preamble to 
the Pi Lambda Phi constitution set forth: **We . . . appre- 
ciating the need of a fraternity which shall eliminate all 
prejudice and sectarianism ... do hereby associate ourselves 
in this Pi Lambda Phi Fraternity." (Subsequent develop- 
ments in this fraternity will be discussed in Chapter 3.) 

The spirit of Pi Lambda Phi was not emulated by other 
fraternities. Jewish students arriving at colleges during the 
first decade of the twentieth century found that many 
fraternities would not accept them. They therefore formed 
their own groups, either as chapters of Pi Lambda Phi or 
other nationals or as locals. These Jewish lodges grew 
rapidly in number on the campuses and most of them 
excluded non-Jews. 


Alpha Phi Alpha, the first Negro Greek-letter group, was 
organized in 1906 at Cornell University; it originally ex- 
cluded non-Negroes from its membership. 

Anti-minority agitation and propaganda had swept back 
and forth across this country for a century. From the 1830's 
anti-Catholic organization had taken many forms, political 
and social. In 1852, this movement spawned the Know- 
Nothings, an aggressive anti-Catholic fraternal order under 
the name of the Order of the Star-Spangled Banner. Everett 
R. Clinchy notes in his All in the Name of God (1934): 

Within a few years of its organization, the group hysteria fostered 
by the Know-Nothings spread its contagion across the country like 
an epidemic of infantile paralysis. Among the activities with which 
it is credited are the shattering of Catholic crosses, the raiding of 
Catholic homes and institutions, the burning of Catholic property 
and the murder of Catholic citizens. 

One ofishoot of the fraternity system in the South just 
after the Civil War has made fraternity historians unhappy. 
A group of former Confederate army officers, who were all 
fraternity men, in 1866 formed a convivial society to which 
they gave the name of Kuklos, the Greek word for circle. 
For alliterative purposes, the word Klan was added, and 
Kuldos became Kuklux or Ku Klux. The organization shortly 
hegan to emphasize "patriotism" and white supremacy. It 
originated in the desire to keep alive the horse play, hazing, 
and camaraderie of the truncated college days of the mem- 
bers; but these impulses were shortly twisted and magni- 
fied to extensive terrorist proportions. 

The very secret American Protective Association came 
into being in 1887 and played continuously upon anti-papal 
sentiments. In the 1890's, this fraternal group had about a 
million members, chiefly in the Midwest; its official spokes- 


men claimed it had overturned the political machinery of a 
number of states and elected more than a hundred members 
to Congress pledged to support the association's program. 

As a part of this general interracial and interreligious un- 
rest, stimulated by migrations and the pains of industrializa- 
tion, a pseudo-scholarly propaganda of racism also came 
into vogue. This propaganda stemmed primarily from con- 
fused writings about the Sanskrit-speaking people who in- 
vaded India, and certain ancient inhabitants of Airyana 
or Iran, both known as Aryas. The term Aryan also was 
extended to substitute for "Indo-European" or "Indo-Ger- 
man" as a label for a family of languages. And then, con- 
fusedly and eventually with disastrous consequences, the 
label got shifted to the peoples or "race" who spoke Aryan 
tongues. Actually those who speak or have spoken the Aryan 
languages have no racial characteristics in common more 
specific than that they are members of the human race. 

The development of Aryanism as a racist doctrine was 
stimulated by Count Arthur de Gobineau, author of a 
lengthy Essai sur Tinegalite des races hwnaines ("Essay 
on the Inequality of the Human Races"), originally pub- 
lished in 1853-55 at Paris. Gobineau considered the culture 
of the old Teutonic aristocracy to be superior to that of other 
"races." Ancient Greek civilization presumably justified his 
claim of Aryan superiority, and he asserted that European 
history dated from the Teutonic invasion. Anti- Jewish and 
generally anti-foreign ideas were supported by Gobineau 
and the rest of this school. 

Too many Americans echoed such ideas notably Alfred 
P. Schultz in his Race or Mongrel (1908) and Madison 
Grant in his The Passing of the Great Race, or the Racial 
Basis of European History (1916, revised 1918). World 
War I brought not only a postwar backwash of even more 
such writings but also a vast revival of the Ku KIux Kfon. 


The Klan is said to have enrolled six million members by 

The tide of racist propaganda found its reflection in col- 
lege fraternities and sororities for instance, Phi Delta 
Theta, It had been organized at Ohio's Miami University in 
1848. By 1910 it had seventy-eight chapters, most of which 
had been established during the preceding thirty-five years. 
As a result of actions at consecutive conventions in 1910 
and 1912, the society wrote into its constitution: "Only such 
persons as are contemplated in the Bond of the Phi Delta 
Theta may be admitted, and only male, white persons of full 
Aryan blood not less than sixteen years of age, shall be 
eligible." Since a three-fourths vote at two consecutive con- 
ventions is required to change this fraternity's constitu- 
tion, the policy was deeply imbedded. 

The writing of such clauses into fraternal constitutions 
was not only a reaction to the increasing cosmopolitanism 
of college student bodies but also an effort by elders to 
restrict the democratic fraternizing of undergraduates. By 
1928, more than half of the national college fraternities and 
sororities had specific written rules requiring exclusion along 
racial and religious lines. Others had the same policy but 
did not find it necessary or in good taste to say so formally. 

On some campuses, the process had gone even further: 
only "white Christian" fraternities and sororities were ad- 
mitted to campus interfraternity and panhellenic councils 
and their social activities. 

The divisive character of fraternities and sororities in 
American college life in the 1920's only occasionally aroused 
protests. In 1928 President William Herbert Perry Faunce 
of Brown University stated his strong conviction that sep- 
arate fraternities for Jewish or other students were wrong 
in principle and harmful to the objectives of the university. 


For this reason, he refused to sanction the establishment of 
a Jewish fraternity at Brown. But he failed to take addi- 
tional steps to solve the problem that had provided the 
demand for a Jewish group the general exclusion of Jew- 
ish students from fraternities at Brown. 

When veterans returned to American campuses after 
World War II a war many of them realized had been 
precipitated by warlords with an Aryan philosophy they 
were confronted by the substantial residue of the long tradi- 
tion of self -segregation. They faced it with a sense of resist- 
ance and with a degree of responsibility not shown by 
previous generations of students. 

Substantial numbers of veterans joined fraternities. But 
many of them, although attracted, felt that exclusionary 
policies were undermining the kind of world Americans 
ought to be trying to build. To them "brotherhood" had to 
be a more inclusive conception. Returning veterans provided 
mature leadership in the fight against discrimination. 

As a result of crowded postwar housing conditions, a 
problem aggravated by rising marriage rates and birthrates, 
most colleges provided family living quarters for the ex- 
G.I/s. But many of the married veterans joined fraternities. 
It was not unusual to see a baby carriage being wheeled by 
a student wearing both a service discharge emblem and a 
pledge button. 

At Vermont's Middlebury College, the Alpha Sigma Phi 
fraternity chapter was reactivated in the fall term of 1945. 
Some of the members who re-established it had been stu- 
dents in 1941, who had taken time out for war. These mem- 
bers recalled that in 1941 they had wanted to initiate a 
Jewish student, who was a football star. Their national offi- 
cers had said it could not be done. 


In the spring of 1946, this Middlebury chapter of Alpha 
Sigma Phi initiated a Jewish student who had worked in 
the underground in France against the Hitler occupation 
forces. At college, he was gaining recognition as a varsity 
tennis player. The national organization either did not 
identify his name as Jewish or permitted it to pass through 
without comment. 

Then in the fall of 1946, three Jewish students were among 
the Alpha Sigma Phi pledges. For a time, the house mem- 
bers felt secure in their course, both because of the preceding 
case and because their constitution and bylaws as well as 
the ritual known to them did not contain any statement 
concerning racial or religious qualifications. 

Middlebury's Alpha Sigma Phi faced its emergency on a 
January day in 1947. In the mail from the national was a 
copy of the ritual which specified an exclusionary policy 
based on race and religion. One member, a former Navy 
pilot, pointedly declared that the purposes of the war in 
which they had fought were being frustrated by such prac- 
tices in college fraternities. The chapter very quickly de- 
cided unanimously to attempt to get the national fraternity 
to change the policy. If the attempt failed, the chapter 
would withdraw. 

The chapter, interestingly enough, was housed in a build- 
ing whose two cellars had been used during the Civil War 
as a way-station on the Underground Railway to help slaves 
escape to freedom in Canada. 

The Middlebury chapter obtained support for its stand 
from fellow chapters. But the controlling votes were held 
by the remote and unresponsive hierarchy of national of- 
ficials. The hierarchy refused to agree. The Middlebury 
chapter therefore withdrew from the national fraternity 
and organized a new local, Alpha Sigma Psi In its constitu- 


tion was a clause that eliminated criteria of race, religion, 
and ethnic origin in the selection of new members. 

Those who wish to maintain restrictive policies have 
seldom in recent years mentioned in print ideas like Aryan- 
ism. At most they have tried to convert a sociological gen- 
eralization, such as F. H. Giddings' principle of "conscious- 
ness of kind," into a social mandate. To be more in line 
with the spirit of the times, they have attempted to frame 
the issue largely in terms of the preservation of what they 
call "voluntarism." 

The theory of "voluntarism" takes the following form: 
Any group, particularly one created for social purposes, has 
the right to set any admissions requirements its members 
wish. If bald-headed men or pigeon-toed women wish to 
form exclusive clubs, this is presumably their democratic 
right Moreover, it is alleged that fraternities and sororities 
are extensions of or substitutes for family and home in the 
college environment. The right of any group, and especially 
of one resembling the family, to maintain exclusiveness 
should not be abridged by fiat. Disputes within, the fra- 
ternity "family/' too, should be resolved within that "family" 
in terms of its own standards and in its own way, not by such 
an "outside" authority as a college administration. 

This is a complicated rationalization, and it is dealt with 
at greater length in Chapters 4 and 6 below. Here it may 
be sufficient to point out that a fraternity is a substitute not 
so much for the family as for a person's early peer groups. 
This new peer group sets up not a home but a substitute for 
the home. A fraternity house thus frequently has the spirit 
of a household from which the parents are temporarily ab- 
sent, where the children and their friends have taken over. 
The chief parent-substitutes on campuses are, of course, 


not sucli pliable persons as the housemothers but the faculty 
members and administrators of the colleges. 

The rights of voluntarism in an educational community 
have always carried with them responsibilities not to permit 
organized efforts to subvert educational processes or to 
handicap fellow students. Colleges, as a part of their educa- 
tional responsibility, provide their students with broad op- 
portunities for interracial, interreligious, and interethnic con- 
tacts in classrooms and now, quite commonly, in dormitories. 
A great many faculty members and some administrators now 
share the view that this responsibility also extends to fra- 
ternity and sorority houses. But discrimination is so built 
into many fraternities that undergraduate members are not 
in fact permitted to exercise their own "voluntarism" in pick- 
ing their associates. 

For example, after the Williams chapter of Phi Delta 
Theta decided to pledge a student ineligible under the "full 
Aryan blood" clause of that fraternity, the national organi- 
zation suspended the chapter. (This episode will be dis- 
cussed at greater length in Chapter 5.) Support for the 
action of the Williams group came from many prominent 
Phi Delts, including the late Frederick M. Vinson, then Chief 
Justice of the United States. The incident received wide 
publicity. Referring to the central figure in the controversy, 
one of he Phi Delt undergraduates at Williams said, "He's 
well liked, but, like everyone else, he gets slapped down 
when he does anything wrong. He's a pioneer in a way, but 
he didn't intend to be/' Is the pledgee tense? "Why should 
he be?" demanded the outraged Phi Delt "We want him/* 

When the chapter was not reinstated by the national 
group, it continued as a healthy local. 

The Phi Kappa Psi chapter at Amherst also discovered the 
frequent futility of seeking a settlement of such a contro- 
versy within a fraternity "family." Thomas W. Gibbs, a 


Negro, was elected to the student council in 1947, starred 
as a cross-country runner, and had a high scholarship rating. 
The Phi Kappa Psi chapter pledged him at the end of his 
freshman year in June 1948 because, in terms of their stand- 
ards of selection, Gibbs was a highly desirable prospect 
The members liked him and thought he would fit into their 

The Phi Kappa Psi national fraternity, which dates from 
1852, had never added a restrictive clause to its original con- 
stitution. Character and ability, according to this constitu- 
tion, are the true criteria for membership. The Phi Kappa 
Psi ritual, like that of every fraternity, is full of noble phrases 
about brotherhood and democracy and does not raise racial 
or religious bars. And evident endorsement of the chapter's 
point of view had come a month earlier, in the May 1948 
issue of The Shield, official publication of Phi Kappa Psi, 
from the national president of the fraternity, Winston R. 
Tate of Kansas City: 

Too often fraternities overemphasize conformity to the demands 
of a tight little social world, create fake standards of excellence, 
cultivate a snobbish exclusiveness. . . . Phi Kappa Psi strives to avoid 
these tendencies, both by teaching and example. It insists that 
personal character is the first concern, both of die organization and 
of the member. . * . Phi Kappa Psi seeks to assist men to lift their 
eyes to wider horizons, to become tolerant, to question all things in the 
light of reason; and finally to develop the moral courage to follow 
those paths that have been illuminated unto them and without regard 
to external consequences. 

In spite of this statement, when the executive officers of 
the fraternity learned about Gibbs, they exerted pressure 
designed to result in his "depledging." Just prior to the 
July 1948 national convention, the executive council of the 
fraternity held a special session, without asking the Amherst 
delegation to be present to state its case, The council de- 
cided officially that the fraternity's traditions of exclusive- 


ness had the same effect as fraternity laws; and these tradi- 
tions did not permit the admission of Gibbs. The Amherst 
delegation arrived at the national convention to find that 
the decision had already been made by the council. The 
chapter, after refusing to "depledge" Gibbs, was suspended 
and later dropped. An official "Report on the State of the 
Fraternity" presented at that same Phi Kappa Psi national 
convention went so far as to assert: 

Relations with college and university administrations are generally 
favorable, but in a few instances the "old "Squeeze-play" is on, and 
vigilance and extreme effort on the part of alumni and national 
officers of Phi Kappa Psi and other fraternities will be required to 
save these chapters. We believe that much can be done to change 
the anti-fraternity attitude of these college administrations; or, failing 
in that, to change the personnel of such administrations. [Italics 

A new f raternity Phi Alpha Psi was organized in the 
fall of 1948 on the Amherst campus, and Thomas W. Gibbs 
was among its first group of initiates. Dr. Charles Woolsey 
Cole, president of Amherst, observed: "We are extremely 
proud of the action and attitude of the Amherst Phi Psi, 
which exemplifies the democratic spirit of Amherst College/' 

When a fraternity or sorority turns a student down for 
membership, the student is hurt. But the harm is even 
deeper when the exclusion occurs because of the rejection of 
his racial, religious, or ethnic group. This involves a refusal 
even to consider purely personal qualities of the student. 
In this type of action, the prejudiced exclusionists and the 
society in which they live are damaged at least as much 
as the victim each in a different way. This was pointed 
out by the United States Supreme Court in its epochal and 
unanimous decisions of May 17, 1954, which outlaw racial 
segregation in public schools, In this contracting world, 
we can no longer afford to increase the number of either 


damaged victims or damaged promulgators of self-segrega- 

Fraternal self-segregation also influences the choice of 
college by many students interested in campus social activi- 
ties. One study found that many Negro high-school gradu- 
ates in the North refused to apply to excellent near-by 
colleges for which they were fully qualified. They chose 
southern Negro institutions, where they felt the environment 
would provide a happier albeit an artificial social ex- 
perience. They were even willing to accept the academic 
disadvantages. Less segregated social opportunities at in- 
tegrated schools are known to increase the willingness of 
minority-group members to enroll and certainly to improve 
the educational experiences of all the students. Charles W. 
McCracken, dean of students at Allegheny College, Mead- 
ville, Pennsylvania, put it this way in a letter of March 5, 
1954, to a campus fraternity: 

Fraternities at Allegheny have taken the lead in initiating many 
social reforms on campus, such as turning hazing methods into socially 
constructive channels, and bringing about inteifaith fellowship on 
campus. It is natural, therefore, that the college and the administra- 
tion should look to the fraternities to take the lead in establishing a 
tradition of interracial harmony at Allegheny in line with a growing 
movement among fraternity groups in various parts of the country. 

At present Allegheny has very few Negro students. It would no 
doubt enrich our college life if we could nave a more representative 
student body in this respect. However, this would be of questionable 
value if the Negro students are discriminated against by any social 
group on campus. Fraternity action is therefore a preliminary step 
towards a more healthy racial situation in the student poptdatiorx. 
Negro students will not come where they feel they are not wanted. . . . 
By removing discriminatory clauses from their charter, fraternities 
have an opportunity to make a significant contribution to a more 
democratic way of life. To accept this as their responsibility would be 
evidence of the practice of Christian brotherhood on which fraternities 
are justified in fiheir existence. 

Incidents on a number of college campuses show the 


effects of isolation of students one from another and the 
rebellion by some students against results of such practices. 

At Upsala College in New Jersey in the spring of 1947, 
Bernice Petty, a Negro student, was proposed for member- 
ship in the Phi Omega Chi sorority by Naomi Charner, a 
member of the sorority and the valedictorian of her class. 
Naomi found that some of her sorority sisters regarded 
Bernice's color to be an insuperable obstacle to her selection. 
Because of this, Naomi resigned from the group. Bernice 
told her sponsor she should not have done this. Bernice 
realized vividly, she said, that fraternities are an important 
part of campus life, and she did not want her friend to be 
ostracized. As she put it, "Being on the fringes, one can get 
awfully lonely. You feel so left out." 

Several months after this incident, Upsala obtained a new 
sorority, Delta Beta Delta, formed as a nonsegregative 
group. Both Bernice and Naomi were members. 

As we have seen, group rejection, when not counteracted 
by persons aware of its consequences, tends to become more 
and more precise until literally "Greeks* 7 can come to exclude 
even those of Greek ancestry. Exclusionism can breed more 
and more exclusionism. 

These first two chapters outline the problem and give 
some of its historical background. Let us now look at 
fraternities that have taken another course. 


Where Fraternity Means Brotherhood 

The National Interfraternity Conference adopted between 
1934 and 1944 a series of statements on fraternity policies. 
Nothing in these documents alludes to the restriction of 
fraternity membership in terms of race, religion, and ethnic 

These documents are called Fraternity Criteria (1934), 
Principles of Democracy (1941), and The Decalog of Fra- 
ternity Policy (1944). A fourth the NIC adopted in 1938 
jointly with the Association of American Colleges under 
the title A Definition of Reciprocal Relations Between Col- 
lege and Fraternity. 

Anyone who reads these statements would conclude that, 
at the very least, they commit fraternities ( 1 ) to co-operate 
with colleges that require nonsegregative practices by fra- 
ternities and (2) to permit chapters to adopt nonsegregative 
practices. Two assertions in the Principles certainly go 
beyond those commitments. These are contentions that 
the college fraternity "ADHERES steadfastly to social, re- 
ligious, political and economic democracy as the only sound 
basis for a satisfying personal and national life" and that it 
"DEFENDS the individual's right to liberty and equality of 
opportunity/' These are all the more telling when they are 
linked to other claims in the Principles that tike college 
fraternity "INCULCATES a sense of responsibility to self, to 



college, to country and to society" and "SUPPORTS our coun- 
tries 3 [United States' and Canada's] championship of the 
cause of democracy." 

Both the Criteria and the Definition accept the responsi- 
bility of the college for setting campus fraternity policies. 
The Criteria avers that "the objectives and activities of the 
fraternity should be in entire accord with the aims and 
purposes of the institutions at which it has chapters." The 
Definition adds: "Any organized group of undergraduates, 
irrespective of the purpose for which it is formed, is an in- 
tegral part of the college." 

The theme of the Decalog is that the highest function of 
fraternities is to develop "those finer qualities of ethical 
conduct which add to the inner growth of man." In defining 
the civic responsibility of the college fraternity, it asks that 
the chapter house serve as "another training ground for 
good citizenship." It concludes with a reference to fraternity 
responsibility in the attainment of those qualities "which 
will lead towards a better civilization, with peace and 
understanding among all peoples." 

Printed attractively on special paper, these statements, 
especially the Decalog, often hang on the walls of fraternity 
houses and national offices. In this and in other ways, fra- 
ternities individually and jointly profess a tolerance and an 
understanding of their democratic and educational responsi- 
bilities which they often contradict in their actual behavior. 

Here is a striking illustration of this point. The national 
president of Phi Kappa Psi wrote in the May 1948 issue of 
The Shield, his organization's magazine: 

. . . when we arrive at the point where we accept the lads next to 
us as brothers, and this without reservation, then we reach a point in 
our thinking where we become humble before all mankind. From 
tins point it is not a far step to the brotherhood of man concept I 
fhirtlc Phi Kappa Psi is a stepping stone in that direction. 


But a month after these words \vere printed, as we saw in 
Chapter 2, this large fraternity suspended its Amherst chap- 
ter for taking the reference to the "brotherhood of man" too 
literally by pledging a Negro. 

Impulses toward brotherhood and other ideals have gone 
on, often hand in hand, with snobbishness and sadistic (as 
well as friendly) horseplay. In a way, the stately Phi Beta 
Kappa might be said to spring from the idealism of the 
fraternity tradition. As a caricature of the movement's 
sadism, the Ku Klux Klan arose out of fraternity patterns 
and experiences. In this chapter we shall present some ex- 
amples of fraternities with brotherhood and of fraternities 
striving toward brotherhood. 

The formation of Pi Lambda Phi at Yale in 1895 was one 
of the earliest efforts to furnish an alternative to the gen- 
erally self-segregative character of fraternities. This fra- 
ternity rapidly spread among the more prominent colleges 
as a protest against prejudice and sectarianism and especially 
against the exclusion of Jewish students from other frater- 
nities. Although this fraternity wrote a nondiscriminatory 
policy into its purposes and membership qualifications, it is 
largely Jewish in membership. Without co-operation or 
support from other fraternities and from college administra- 
tions, its members found themselves forced to yield to the 
pressures making for minority self-segregation in spite of 
their apparent intellectual awareness of its antidemocratic 
nature and its destructive consequences. Pi Lambda Phi 
has thus been able only in a token sense to continue its work 
for diversity and brotherhood on more than forty campuses. 
Although its policies remain nondiscriminatory, it has only 
a scattering of non-Jewish members. 

Other national fraternities have organized specifically as 
interracial and interfaith societies. They represent a vigor- 


ous alternative to sectarianism where sectarianism has be- 
come so often the norm in practice. But in general these 
efforts are still experiments. They still fail to include a sub- 
stantial number of students on most campuses. They tend 
to develop human brotherhood as a special effort, an exhibit 
whereas it should be an integral part of all campus fra- 
ternal organizations. These demonstrations are useful; but 
it is now time for American fraternities to move beyond the 
experimental stage. 

Two illustrations of national fraternities with such ideals 
are the American Association of Commons Clubs and Beta 
Sigma Tau. AACC, a "national American-letter fraternity/' 
traces its origin to the formation of the Dennison Commons 
Club in 1917 at Ohio's Dennison University. It joined with 
similar clubs at Ohio University and Hillsdale College in 
1921 to form a national organization. Its purpose is to 
"make democracy a living reality on campus." To achieve 
this, it has "no barriers on the basis of race, creed, or nation* 
ality which would prevent any worthy student from being 
invited to membership/' It holds operating costs low "in 
order to avoid economic discrimination/' It permits "no 
Blackball' system. No chapter is permitted to require more 
than a 50% vote to admit a man to membership/' This 
"open door" is one that "swings both ways. Any member 
who desires may resign without having his action considered 

Campus pressures have made rtiig effort like that of 
Pi Lambda Phi difficult but with somewhat different re- 
sults. Of the seventeen undergraduate chapters included 
in the American Association of Commons Clubs between 
1917 and 1937, twelve became inactive. The group has since 
gained one chapter and lost one. Its chapters on five rela- 
tively small campuses compete with numbers of Greek- 
letter lodges that have less specific and less courageous 


ideals. To judge from news notes in its periodical. The 
American Commoner, the AACC especially attracts students 
who later go into ministerial and academic work. This is not, 
of course, the common pattern in national fraternities. As 
with Pi Lambda Phi, the AACC program lacks the co-opera- 
tion and support from other fraternities and from college 
administrations that would give its idealistic practices an 
atmosphere in which they could propagate. 

Beta Sigma Tau is in general similar in ideals and mem- 
bership to the American Association of Commons Clubs. 

Some other fraternities, although they do not go as far 
as these two organizations, represent useful bridges in the 
same direction. An example is Tau Kappa Epsilon, which 
has never had an exclusionist clause either written or un- 
written. Its chapters must select members "for their per- 
sonal worth and character/ 7 Local chapters are granted 
autonomy on questions of membership, but its national 
ideals are fixed in the direction of brotherhood. 

Perhaps the most stable and satisfactory type of inter- 
group integration on fraternity campuses is that of chapters 
formerly part of the exclusionist system that have broken 
away to become nonexclusionist locals. One is the Middle- 
bury College chapter of Alpha Sigma Phi which, as we have 
seen, became in 1947 the independent fraternity Alpha 
Sigma Psi This new fraternity has not become a specifically 
interracial or interreligious fraternity in a mandatory sense, 
but like Tau Kappa Epsilon it is a fraternity without 
restrictions. As a result, the membership reflects to some 
extent the composition of the student body, which is itself 
predominantly white Protestant. One new group of twenty- 
three members included one Chinese, one Greek, and two 
Jewish students. Here is a Greek-letter society that does not 
exclude Greeks. 


The admission of others than white Protestants into Alpha 
Sigma Psi was carried out calmly and naturally. The first 
Negro member, Charles James, recalled: "I was hesitant to 

commit myself to the fraternity 1 did not want to become 

a 'token/ I couldn't be sure whether or not they were moti- 
vated by a sincere desire to pledge me as an individual or 
as the show-piece of their new-found democracy." To be 
seized upon and treated as a symbol, smothered with un- 
welcome attention in an artificial relationship, is something 
that minority leaders and especially Negroes try hard to 

James quickly discovered that he was not regarded as a 
"token," and that he was just another member. One of 
the fraternity brothers expressed the views of the white 
Protestant majority in the lodge when he observed: "The 
wonderful thing about all of this is that I can say anything 
to Charlie without wondering how he is going to take it, and 
he can say anything he wants to me without the slightest 
hesitation. ... I don't give a damn any more whether or not 
he is going to take offense, and he doesn't stifle his frank 
opinion just to be acceptable to the majority." The general 
conclusion of the white Protestant majority in the fraternity 
was expressed as follows: "In our fraternal life, differences 
of race and religion have become incidental. The existence 
of difference is not avoided, but it is not magnified out of 

Are the Alpha Sigma Psi boys now considered to be misfits 
on the Middlebury campus? Quite the contrary. When 
Alpha Sigma Psi's predecessor had its disagreement with 
the national organization, the chapter was struggling along. 
Although it had been there for about twenty years, it still 
occupied rented quarters. During the first eight years fol- 
lowing its declaration of independence from the national, the 
local attracted outstanding students to its membership. 


Both in extracurricular and in scholarly achievements, it 
became one of the most notable fraternities on the campus. 
Three of four recent editors-in-chief of the campus news- 
paper are members of this fraternity. Other members have 
been on the college football, baseball, basketball, and other 
athletic teams. The group has also gained permanent pos- 
session, by its consistently high scholarship records, of an 
award made annually to the top fraternity. In 1953 it pur- 
chased one of the most attractive houses on the campus. 

When Phi Alpha Psi in 1948 took the place of the Phi 
Kappa Psi chapter at Amherst College, some alumni feared 
that the fraternity would decline in status and in the quality 
of membership. On the contrary., it has continued to attract 
the same high type of student as before. Its members not 
only have maintained excellent scholarship but also have 
participated fully in extracurricular campus activities. Al- 
most every semester since its expulsion from the national 
fraternity, it has had the highest scholarship standing of any 
fraternity on the campus. 

What these and other men's and women's fraternities have 
done is to demonstrate that young men and women can 
identify with one another on many bases other than race and 
religion. F. H. Giddings' "consciousness of kind" need not 
be only a consciousness of tribal kind. Given the chance, 
other and more individual criteria for friendship can give 
great satisfactions. 

When the interfraternity council of Cornell University 
yielded to pressure and in 1951-52 undertook to study dis- 
crimination in its members' recruitment procedures, council 
representatives seriously contended that the abolition of 
racial and religious barriers would make fraternities indis- 
tinguishable from dormitory groups. So far as snobbish and 
other undesirable criteria are concerned, it may be that 


fraternities, sororities, and dormitory groups might well have 
more in common. 

College administrators try to bring together in dormitories 
students for whom the life together will become a valuable 
part of their education. By the application of many sorts of 
similar criteria, dl individual, students could build much 
more interesting and more useful fraternities and sororities. 
If their choices were sound, lodges could compete success- 
fully with dormitory groups. If fraternities could not com- 
pete under such unrestricted conditions, there would cer- 
tainly be little excuse for their continued existence. 

The growth of healthful democracy on the campus may 
be promoted not only by the infiltration of a spirit of human 
brotherhood into the practices of individual fraternities but 
also by the development of an air of acceptance by the total 
college community for all its students. Such a development 
on a campus-wide level has taken place at Aroherst and 

Amherst College dates back to 1821, and its first fraternity 
was established just twelve years later. Even before World 
War II, the position of fraternities in this college was fre- 
quently questioned. During the war most of the fraternities 
at Amherst, as elsewhere, became inactive. 

The college began to give serious thought to the future 
place of fraternities on the campus. Faculty and alumni 
committees that studied the question concluded that fra- 
ternities are antidemocratic in principle and anti-intellectual 
in purpose, and that "in both respects the existence of fra- 
ternities conflicts with the fundamental aims of the college." 
The committees recommended the elimination of the fra- 

However, Amherst's board of trustees decided that, al- 
though the objections to the fraternities were substantial, 


they might be overcome without destroying the system. The 
trustees ruled that, as a condition for reopening, each 
fraternity must certify "that there is no prohibition or restric- 
tion by reason of race, color or creed affecting the selection 
of members of such chapter." 

Fraternities whose national organizations required self- 
segregative practices were given a five-year period of grace. 
Each affected chapter had to initiate procedures in its na- 
tional through which the required modifications might be 
made. The five-year term for change was selected because 
some fraternities (such as Phi Delta Theta) required two 
consecutive conventions to execute a change, and their con- 
ventions occur only at two-year intervals. Still another 
convention, too, might be needed to set in motion a review 
committee or other procedures. Thus a chapter might need 
a large part of the five-year period in order to comply with 
the ruling of the trustees. 

Among other rules then established at Amherst was one 
assuring membership in some group to each sophomore with 
an average grade of at least 70 desiring to join a social 
organization. The general thesis of the trustees is that any 
man good enough to be admitted to Amherst College is good 
enough to be admitted to one of its component social groups. 
This does not mean that each fraternity has to accept aU 
students who indicate an interest in that particular fra- 
ternity. In addition, the college opened a club under its 
sponsorship for those who do not wish to join a fraternity. 

Amherst freshmen are not eligible for membership in 
fraternities, and rushing is not permitted until after the final 
examinations in the freshman year; interested candidates 
thus have sufficient time to find a congenial group and to be 
sized up by the fraternities. This is in sharp contrast to the 
catch-as-catch-can "selectivity" one finds on many campuses 
during a brief rushing "season" of a few days or weeks at the 


beginning of the first semester. In the Amherst system, 
personal qualities become more important than f amily con- 
nections, religion, race, money, and ethnic background. 

Fraternity rushing at Amherst results in selectivity of a 
more mature sort. The lodge or club is matched with the 
student in terms of democratic criteria of personal worth 
and interest. The college-sponsored club, incidentally, at- 
tempts to function on the same level of selectivity as the 
Greek-letter fraternities. No one organization is the "minor- 
ity-group" club or fraternity. 

Once the barriers of social categories are removed, men 
can see one another as individuals. All fourteen of the social 
groups at Amherst have recently taken in students who not 
long ago would have been automatically excluded from con- 
sideration* More than nine-tenths of the student body 
all the students who are both eligible and interested 
have joined the club or the fraternities. 

Under these arrangements, Amherst fraternities have 
thrived but not, of course, without some other changes. 
The Delta Tau Delta national fraternity refused to accept 
tihe postwar conditions specified by the trustees, and its 
chapter became again the local, Kappa Theta. Two other 
fraternity chapters those of Phi Kappa Psi and Phi Delta 
Theta have been replaced by unaffiliated locals, Phi Alpha 
Psi and Phi Delta Sigma, As we have seen, their disaffilia- 
tion arose in both cases from the restrictive membership 
policies of their nationals. 

Dr. Alfred Sherwood Homer, Amherst Phi Psi and director 
of Harvard's Museum of Comparative Zoology, has com- 

On the whole the experiment appears to be a successful one. Con- 
ditions have not heen perfect, but there has been a sharp swing 
back from the "collegiate" days of the thirties to a state in which 
the college body and consequently the fraternities is closer to 
the dder and healthier ideals of earlier decades. 


He emphasized the fact that desegregation came about when 
minority-group members were "voluntarily elected as a 
matter of course in line with a reasonable college policy." 

The Princeton experience resembles that of Amherst, even 
though it involves not fraternities but eating clubs with 
such names as Campus, Cannon, Cottage, Ivy, Key and 
Seal, and Prospect. These are social organizations with 
elaborate houses for juniors, seniors, and graduates. They 
are known as eating clubs because each provides a dining 
room as well as social activities. Except for one or two 
members who may live in the club's establishment, the 
others all room in university dormitories. 

These eating clubs thus resemble fraternities except that 
they are independent of national affiliation and do not have 
the Greek-letter fraternities' secrecy and lodge rituals with 
"brotherhood" ceremonies and high-sounding principles. At 
one lime, Princeton club members wore distinctive emblems 
on their blazers or characteristic neckties. Currently, how- 
ever, it is not thought good taste to wear distinguishing 

Literary and social clubs at Princeton date back at least 
to 1760. Two of these clubs, the Whig and Cliosophic so- 
cieties known as 'The Halls" are among the oldest in 
United States college history. Almost from the beginning 
of the college, small informal eating clubs also developed 
out of temporary arrangements of a group with a local house- 
wife to furnish their meals. 

Greek-letter societies existed at one time on the Princeton 
campus. The first one, Beta Theta Pi, appeared there in 
1843. Ten other chapters of nationals were established 
during the next eleven years, but the college officials found 
the societies to be a disruptive influence. They especially 
regretted the way in which fraternities undermined the 


influence of The Halls. In 1855 tihe college faculty and 
trustees therefore took firm action: they required all enter- 
ing students to sign a pledge not to join a fraternity, under 
penalty of dismissal. As a result of this edict, some students 
were expelled and some fraternities effectively disbanded. 

The Princeton president announced in 1864 that he be- 
lieved fraternities had been eliminated from the college. 
But even in that war year four fraternities continued as 
underground movements. The faculty in 1875 appointed 
a committee to locate fraternity members in the student 
body. The committee, ferreting out a photograph of a fra- 
ternity group, suspended all who appeared in the picture. 
The suspension was later lifted upon a pledge from the stu- 
dents that they would not again join a campus secret society. 

Following the investigation, alumni members of Prince- 
ton's fraternities sought formal permission to bring fraterni- 
ties legally into the open. The administration refused the 
request In this, student opinion apparently sided heavily 
with faculty and administration. Social fraternities secret 
or otherwise thus gradually disappeared from Princeton. 
The last sub-rosa chapter, that of Sigma Chi, may have con- 
tinued until 1882. 

The eating-club system provided the alternative. Unlike 
secret societies, these clubs had the encouragement of 
Princeton officials. The college catalog as early as 1846 
mentioned the existence of eating clubs. After die college 
refectory burned down in 1856, the administration did not 
rebuild it for some twenty years. This delay powerfully 
stimulated the development of the clubs. 

The clubs had no expressed conditions or barriers in their 
membership criteria. The chief informal considerations were 
those of family and social prestige. This basis for snobbish 
self-segregation became a sore point In 1907 it led Wood- 
row Wilson, as the new president of Princeton, to try to do 


away with the eating clubs. He wanted to replace them 
with quadrangles where students and faculty members 
would live together and mix social and intellectual life, 
without invidious distinctions among quadrangles. He con- 
tended in 1909 (in Scribtiefs Magazine): 

The very men the teacher most desires to get hold of and to enlist 
in some enterprise of the mind, the very men it would most reward 
him to instruct and whose training would count for most in leadership 
outside of college, in the country at large, and for the promotion of 
every interest the nation has, the natural leaders and doers, are drawn 
off and monopolized by these . . . undergraduate undertakings. . . . 
The side shows are so numerous, so diverting so important, if you 
will that they have swallowed up the circus, and those who 
perform in the main tent must often whistle for their audiences, dis- 
couraged and humiliated. 

Wilson did not succeed in this project, but he did get agree- 
ment to restrict membership in the clubs to juniors and 
seniors. This practice has prevailed since about 1910. 

But the noninclusiveness and snobbishness of the eating- 
club system remained. With four-fifths and more of the 
upperclassmen enrolled in the autonomous, privately owned 
clubs, exclusion became increasingly painful to individuals 
and vexing to the administration. It was still especially dif- 
ficult for members of minority groups to get into any of the 
seventeen clubs. 

Around the outset of World War II, the trustees made 
an effort to introduce some order into the informal selection 
practices of the clubs. The trustees especially wanted to 
assure the election of a larger proportion of students. As a 
result, in 1941 for the first time all sophomores were elected. 
As Professor Dean A. Allen of Princeton notes, in a special 
study of the clubs, this outcome 

. . took some skillful maneuvering on the part of the various dub 
presidents and especially the university administration itself, which 
had hitherto remained relatively uninvolved in the club system. The 
repercussions were very loud; virtually everyone found some fault 


with the new arrangements. Nonetheless for the next two years 100% 
election of eligibles was attained, and in the third year, 99.5%. 
The precedent of full membership in clubs had been established, but 
by then the clubs were shut down for the duration of the war. 

Following a brief period of confusion after the war, the 

students themselves led the way toward the re-establishment 


of the system of inclusive membership. Four-fifths of the 
1949-50 sophomores signed a petition declaring that they 
would not join any club unless the clubs as a whole accepted 
all their classmates. After some tension, all members of the 
class were bid to clubs that year. Since 1950, all students 
both eligible and interested have been accepted into the 
clubs. In addition, none of the clubs has established in 
practice racial or religious membership barriers; every club 
has one or more Jewish members. Allen observes: 

There is not, of course, always perfect agreement between the 
club which makes the offer and the one the student most wishes 
to join. The clubs, like all social groups, have varying degrees of 
status and prestige. ... In the main, however, the club elections have 
worked satisfactorily , . . without coercion on the part of the college 
administration, but rather through the interested efforts of various 
class officers (especially the sophomore president), the club presi- 
dents, and the advising committees of faculty and administration. 

Can social fraternities become more truly microcosms of 
democratic experience? Can they help their members, as 
the national president of Phi Kappa Psi contended, to 
"arrive at the point where we accept the lads next to us as 
brothers, and this without reservation'* and thus aid us to 
"reach a point in our thinking where we become humble 
before all mankind'? Assuredly the foregoing examples 
show that certain fraternities, and the fraternities on certain 
campuses, have been able to become more democratic. 

In these teen-age substitutes for their earlier play groups 
and gangs, young men and women gain security and valu- 
able experience in human relations. They build identifica- 


tions on various types of admiration and enthusiasm. As we 
have seen, the "consciousness of kind" is most constructive 
when it is a consciousness of compatible human companion- 
ship. It need not be based upon criteria of money, social 
class, religion, or race attributes that are inherited rather 
than achieved. Given the chance to ignore these traditional 
social categories, students have in a substantial number of 
cases gladly adopted the more personal criteria of selection. 
Not only have certain fraternities and certain campuses 
become more democratic in their selective procedures, but 
their patterns are such that they may in the long run in- 
fluence all American fraternities and sororities. 


Deadlines for Democracy 

As the return of the veterans from World War II created 
a ferment in the fraternity world, student groups both inside 
and outside the fraternity system began to seek reform. 
College newspapers featured the problems of self-segrega- 
tion and group-rejection. Many chapters began to quarrel 
with their nationals over restrictive clauses. 

As we have seen, a Roper poll in 1949 indicated, on the 
basis of a student sample covering members and nonmem- 
bers of fraternal groups from all sections of the country, that 
four-fifths opposed exclusion by fraternities on the basis of 
race and religion. Of the total, about three-fifths wanted no 
biased restrictions at all; about one-fifth favored limiting out- 
group members to 10 per cent. Only one-fifth still wanted 
to maintain barriers of color and religion. In discussing the 
results of this poll, Elmo Roper said: 

First, let me say that we found no substantial differences between 
the upper and lower classmen. There was surprising unanimity among 
both those freshmen who might seek to Join a fraternity or sorority 
and those seniors who would in all probability make the selection of 
new fraternity members. . . . 

[Three in five wanted] a fraternity that freely admitted desirable 
members of all religions and races and that usually contained a con- 
siderable number or each. . . . They argue that all persons should be 
judged on individual merit that it is silly and prejudiced to judge 
people on preconceived notions about their race or religion. Many 
of them might argue that it is not only undemocratic to draw the color 



or religion line, but also that an individual's personality becomes 
warped and slanted when he holds such views. . . . 

We found that men students felt slightly stronger about this than 
did women students. And we also found' that students in the Far 
West had a more liberal attitude than students in any other part of 
the country. But, significantly, there wasn't a single section of the 
country, including the South, where a majority of students wanted 
fraternities restricted. In every case, a majority wanted an end to 
this particular form of discrimination. . . . 

[The] acid test in our survey came among those students who are 
now members of fraternities, many of which do place race and 
religious restrictions on membership. These students, in most cases, 
are practicing this form of discrimination, whether consciously or 
unconsciously. Yet even among them, the results indicate that the 
largest single group favors membership in a fraternity restricted only 
by their judgment of the individual worth of the person. . . . 

It isn't that . . . college students who were for ending discrimina- 
tion want actively to purge from themselves all forms of prejudice. 
They aren't missionaries. It is more that they want to judge their 
fellow classmates as individuals and accept or reject them without 
any preconceived notions interfering. 

Those who foster Aryanism often contend that minority 
groups Tike" and "want" segregated organizations of their 
own. Like many other investigators, Roper found just the 
opposite. He discovered, for example, that four out of five 
Jewish students "wanted a fraternity which was open to all 
religions, where potential members were judged as indi- 
vidual personalities/' 

Surveys, votes, and other activity at various colleges sug- 
gest that opposition to discrimination is increasing. For in- 
stance, in 1938 the interfraternity council at the University of 
Minnesota invited the Jewish and Negro fraternities to take 
part in its social program. Six years later, the Jewish and 
Negro fraternities became full members of the council. A 
summary of events thus describes the situation in 1947: 

Many fraternity and sorority members started discussing clause 
removal. A meeting of several hundred Greeks was called to air 
the problem. The Interfraternity Council and Panhellenic Associa- 


tion set up committees on human relations. Letters were sent out to 
national offices and other chapters across the nation. Discussions 
were started in the chapter houses. Replies from nationals were dis- 

The interfraternity and panhellenic organizations at Min- 
nesota discovered in 1948 that 58 per cent of all fraternity 
men and women favored the removal of racial and religious 
membership restrictions. Following further campus discus- 
sion of such rules, the councils reported the next year that 
the number of fraternity men in favor of this change had 
risen to 74 per cent The same percentage of fraternity 
women were "willing for Panhellenic to take a stand in 
recommending that all persons be rushed on their own 
merits, regardless of race or religion/' Among members of 
sixteen sororities without restrictive provisions, 91 per cent 
said all men's and women's "fraternity groups should get 
rid of their restrictive clauses/' 

To Judge from the 1949 Minnesota polls, even members 
of chapters bound by racial and religious restrictions asked 
that such rules be removed. Among male fraternity mem- 
bers presumably so bound, 70 per cent said they "should 
get rid" of them. At the same time, four women's fraterni- 
ties still had such clauses, and 56 per cent of their members 
stated they "should get rid of restrictive clauses/* 

In 1950 the proportion of fraternity men at Minnesota 
opposing clauses reached 80 per cent, and in 1951 it stood 
at 81 per cent In the latter year, 89 per cent of those with- 
out and 73 per cent of those with clauses opposed such 

At Cornell University in 1951-52 the interfraternity coun- 
cil learned that nineteen men's lodges had written restrictive 
regulations. In only two did the undergraduate members 
approve of the clauses. In two others there was a sharp 
division of opinion. In fifteen of the nineteen, there was 


strong support for removal of nationally imposed restric- 

In a 1949 student newspaper poll at Dartmouth, 74 per 
cent of all students and 72 per cent of the fraternity men 
said to eliminate racial and religious restrictions. Only 
16 per cent of the total and 18 per cent of the fraternity 
men opposed change. The rest among the four in five par- 
ticipating students were undecided. 

Dartmouth students frequently debated this subject dur- 
ing the next five years, and in 1954 the student council 
learned from a referendum that only 12 per cent of those 
who voted asked that "all campus wide organized efforts 
to eliminate nationally-imposed written and unwritten fra- 
ternity discrimination clauses shall cease." All the rest, 88 
per cent, wanted some change: 37 per cent wished to con- 
tinue the mild form of coercion to change then in force upon 
fraternities, and 52 per cent agreed to a program requiring 
discriminatory fraternities to modify their practices or to 
withdraw from the campus, Details of college action at 
Dartmouth are discussed later in this chapter. 

At the University of Vermont, the student union in Febru- 
ary 1955 conducted a ballot to determine the extent of 
support for an end to fraternity restrictions within seven 
years. Five out of six students voted; 86 per cent answered 
"yes/* The faculty and trustees immediately took action. 

On a national scale, the United States National Student 
Association (NSA) representing college student govern- 
ments between 1947 and 1954 adopted a series of policies 
on fair educational practices. These relate to race, color, 
national origin, sex, creed, political belief, and economic 
circumstance. In September 1949, the NSA urged the Na- 
tional Interfraternity Conference and the National Panhel- 
lenic Conference to call upon their member organizations 
to eliminate discriminatory practices, and it asked the same 


of all national, professional, honorary, social, and service 

In 1954, at the instruction of the annual NSA congress, 
Bernard S. Yudowitz of Cornell University*, the association's 
vice-president for educational affairs, codified this series of 
actions for its national executive committee. This is the 
section of the code dealing with student organizations: 

Clauses that restrict membership on the basis of race, color, religion 
or national origin in student organizations in institutions of higher 
education are contrary to and inconsistent with democratic principles. 
Groups set up for specifically avowed religious purposes, however, 
can require their members to accept certain religious tenets. 

No incoming group should be allowed on campus which contains 
in its constitution and/or by-laws and/or ritual discriminatory clauses 
with regard to race, color, religion, creed, or national origin. 

Student bodies should set a specific time limit for the elimination 
of discriminatory clauses in constitutions, by-laws and rituals of 
officially recognized campus organizations. On their failure to remove 
these clauses, official campus recognition should be withdrawn. How- 
ever, if it is evidenced that the organization is making a conscientious 
effort to eliminate the clauses, it should be granted one year's ex- 

During the interim period, the appropriate body should require 
conclusive evidence that continuous and positive efforts are being 
made by these organizations to remove their clauses. 

Student bodies should correlate with this legislative activity a 
continuous educational program in human relations whereby all con- 
cerned campus organizations may work together toward the idea of 

It should be requested that each campus organization upon re- 
cruiting an individual enlighten that individual fully as to the admit- 
tance requirements of the constitution and by-laws, and the limitations 
of rituals with regard to race, color, religion, creed or national origin. 

Such indications of student opinion and action help to 
belie the claim that nationally imposed patterns of group- 
rejection in social fraternities express student mores and help 
to protect student "freedom" of membership selection. 
Opinions of both fraternity and nonfraternity students in 
all sections of the country appear to sustain the view that 


the number of students wishing to retain restrictions within 
the college community is a steadily diminishing minority. 

Since college administrators and professors also over- 
whelmingly oppose racial, ethnic, and religious restrictions, 
the problem of working toward a solution concerns chiefly 
issues of method and timing. In general, fraternity alumni 
and professionals dislike firm mandates from the academic 
community as to method and deadline. But there are other 
fraternity leaders who regret that present academic atti- 
tudes, largely laissez-faire, in effect permit the nationals to 
forbid undergraduates to choose members from certain 
groups and give the undergraduates little chance to obtain 
reforms. Thus "autonomy" is a term in the fraternity strug- 
gle over restrictions roughly comparable to "states rights" in 
the national political struggle over racial desegregation. 

In most cases college administrators have proceeded with 
great caution, national fraternity leaders have dragged their 
feet, and student pressure for change has been stalled. Col- 
lege officials are well aware that a "generation" of college 
undergraduate leaders lasts at most only four years and, 
in an effective sense, usually only two or three years. In- 
fluential alumni and donors, on the other hand, are powerful 
and continuing factors both in colleges and in fraternities. 

Only where college administrators support the regulation 
of fraternities can students translate their beliefs into cam- 
pus-wide accomplishment Regardless of student interest 
and activity, effective decisions concerning campus policy 
rest by action or by default with the academic ad- 
ministration and ultimately with the board of trustees. This 
means that the path to reform in this field is often difficult 
As mentioned earlier, the National Committee on Fraterni- 
ties in Education has made a survey of 125 institutions where 
men's and women's fraternities are major factors; of these. 


only 20 have adopted any college policy on self-segregation 
and categorical discrimination, and 10 others have done 
little but express hope. 

Because fraternities are integral parts of our colleges and 
universities, they necessarily become college responsibilities 
and fall under college regulation. Through their under- 
graduate members, fraternities share in many campus privi- 
leges and responsibilities, a situation clearly recognized in 
the National Interfraternity Conference's Decalog of Fra- 
ternity Policy. Men's and women's fraternities are therefore 
not exempt from changing educational policies among 
them the issue of freedom from prejudiced categorical dis- 

Some administrators contend that they must not ignore 
any campus influence that tends to shape student attitudes 
along biased lines. This is the position of William S. Carlson, 
president of the State University of New York: 

One of the pillars upon which the State University of New York 
was founded is that educational opportunities be made available to 
those qualified, without regard to race, color, religion, creed, or 
national origin. It would be sophistry for the State University to 
vigorously combat discrimination in its admissions and academic 
policies and, at the same time, condone these practices among the 
extracurricular organizations which it recognizes. The academic and 
extracurricular programs intertwine to such a degree in educating and 
molding a student that they cannot be severed and each judged by 
contradictory standards. 

A similar view appears in the preamble to official regula- 
tions concerning membership eligibility in fraternities and 
sororities at Syracuse University: "It is the ultimate aim of 
a democratic educational institution to foster beliefs and 
practices free from prejudice and discrimination." In spite 
of the ambiguous word "ultimate," this statement reflects a 
growing concern of the university about extracurricular 
campus influences. 


But too many other institutions of higher education have 
followed easy patterns for evasion of responsibility. The 
Association of American Colleges discovered in a 1948 sur- 
vey of 141 fraternity colleges that more tha.n four-fifths of 
the presidents agreed that nationally imposed membership 
restrictions should not be permitted to bind individual chap- 
ters on their campuses. On the other hand, only a few of 
these executives considered that the colleges have a re- 
sponsibility for the correction of existing discrimination. 
President George W. McClelland of the University of Penn- 
sylvania, chairman of the association's commission on minor- 
ity groups, noted in his report: 

Of the colleges with fraternities, 115 are in favor of leaving the 
matter to the chapters and twenty-six are not. It is interesting to 
note, however, of the 115 only twenty-four reports indicate that they 
are taking any steps in the matter, even to die extent of discussing 
it, and only eleven express die opinion that they will probably do 
something about it in the future. 

College administrators thus do not, in most cases, use 
their institutional authority to prevent the nationals from 
perpetuating biased practices in local chapters. They do not 
support the efforts of student chapters against segregation. 
In short, the hands-off policy of these college executives 
has the effect of permitting the nationals to maintain the 
fraternal status quo. 

Administrators who openly stated this laissez-faire policy 
included Edmund Ezra Day, then president of Cornell Uni- 
versity; Alexander G. Ruthven, then president of the Uni- 
versity of Michigan; and Carl R. Woodward, president of 
the University of Rhode Island. 

Day set forth his institution's policy in 1949 in these 

As for national fraternities they must not be permitted to get 
in the way of the educational purpose of the institution, and they 
may possibly be persuaded to contribute to the achievement of the 


purposes of the institution. As social organizations, they are free to 
create whatever standards of eligibility they wish individually to 
create and to take the consequences of. Some of them have condi- 
tions set forth in their constitutions barring certain minority groups. 
Well, if that's the land of character they want to have, I would say 
that that's their privilege. In my definition that is not undemocratic. 
Exclusiveness is not undemocratic, as long as it doesn't deny anybody's 
rights, I don't construe it to be my right to get into many well-known 
and exclusive clubs. If they want to say, **\Ve don't like your looks 
and we don't like anything else about yo'u," that's their privilege, and 
it doesn't occasion any resentment in me. If they feel that way about 
it, I don't want to be' on the inside anyway. I think we've got to see 
straight on some of these things and not confuse issues. 

Ruthven and Woodward were not as sweeping in their 
grants of autonomy to the fraternities, but the effects of 
their policies were much the same. Ruthven said in 1951: 

We do not believe . . . that fie University could, without dis- 
crimination, withdraw recognition and thus jeopardize vested prop- 
erty interests merely because the organization was unwilling or 
unable to waive its legal right to define in its constitution the qualifi- 
cations of its members. 

And Woodward asserted in 1953: 

Under our American concept of freedom and self -determination, 
selective membership is in keeping with the democratic institutions 
of our society, and die right of our fraternities to retain it should be 

An even more typical position, but one not so frequently 
expressed, is that taken by the University of Missouri in 
its policy statement: "The University does not concern itself 
with the basis for membership in these organizations [such 
as fraternities] other than to require that members be stu- 
dents enrolled in the University ** In interpreting the reason 
for this rule, the university's vice-president in charge of 
student activities wrote to the National Committee on 
Fraternities in Education: "I don't believe in making the 
University a tool for reform even when I agree that reform 
is needed." 


Carnegie Institute of Technology has issued this policy 
statement: "A purely social organization, whether academic, 
professional, or general in scope, is free to select members 
on whatever basis of social compatibility it desires." Not 
unaware of the restrictive problem, the institute adds the 
proviso that "professional and honorary fraternities shall not 
in any way bind their membership to the observance of 
any policy which restricts the eligibility for membership 
with respect to race, color, or creed/* 

Particularly in tax-aided colleges and universities, ad- 
ministrative evasion of responsibility for group-rejection is 
likely to come under increasing fire. And in our narrowing 
world, more and more private colleges are likely to follow 
the democratic policies instituted at Amherst, Columbia, 
Dartmouth, or Princeton. 

If wise desegregation decisions are not worked out by 
colleges, the list of institutions without social fraternities 
may also grow. It now includes, according to Bair&s Manual 
of American College Fraternities (1949) and more recent 
information, such institutions as Berea College, Bryn Mawr 
College, California Institute of Technology, Carleton Col- 
lege, The Citadel, College of Wooster, Connecticut College, 
Dakota Wesleyan University, Grinnell College, Haverford 
College, Hollins College, Mount Holyoke College, Oberlin 
College, Princeton University, Radcliffe College, Reed Col- 
lege, Bice Institute, St John's College, Sarah Lawrence Col- 
lege, Smith College, South Dakota State College, Stephens 
College, United States Military Academy, United States 
Naval Academy, Vassar College, Virginia Military Institute, 
Virginia Polytechnical Institute, Wellesley College, Wells 
College, Wheaton College, and many (such as Fordbam Uni- 
versity) operated by Roman Catholic orders. 

In the previous chapter, we examined campus policies 
that have helped to give fraternities more real brotherhood. 


Other, less comprehensive forms of campus action toward 
the elimination of restrictions have also been taken. These 
include: (1) a college declaration of principle in opposition 
to self -segregation or group-rejection; (2) a requirement 
that chapters make "sincere efforts" to change national 
fraternity policies; (3) de-emphasis of fraternity distinc- 
tions; and (4) a "deadline for democracy" a deadline for 
the elimination of a restrictive clause or the elimination of 
self-segregative practices. We shall review examples of each 
of these policies. 

(1) A declaration of principle. The University of Cali- 
fornia has stated its opposition to restrictive membership 
policies on its many campuses. Like the University of 
Washington (Seattle) and some others, it limits the imple- 
mentation of its declaration to new fraternity and sorority 
chapters. New chapters may not have group-rejective poli- 
cies, but the old ones may remain. In 1948 the faculty senate 
of the University of Washington voted; 

Recognition shall not be granted to any new organization having 
racial or religious restrictions on membership eligibility. When re- 
newal of recognition is granted to an organization having such re- 
strictions on membership eligibility, the local group and its national 
affiliate, if any, shall be informed of the University's disapproval of 
such restrictions, and its hope for their early removal. 

In a letter to the National Committee on Fraternities in 
Education, Washington's counselor for men added: "Each 
year those student organizations which still retain member- 
ship restrictions are reminded of the position of the Uni- 

(2) A requirement of "sincere efforts" This is a specifi- 
cation that local chapters use their best and most sincere 
efforts to change restrictive national rules. This is a second 


step, in certain cases, beyond the declaration of principle 
just mentioned. Evidence of such efforts becomes a condi- 
tion for the continuing existence of local chapters. 

This type of regulation represents an increasing sensitivity 
to contrasts between verbal compliance and the actual re- 
duction of restrictive practices. It reflects the fact, for ex- 
ample, that many fraterniy houses are subject to nationally 
imposed though unwritten restrictions. This is true both 
of men's and women's fraternities. Such restrictions (treated 
in more detail in the next chapter) may escape campus cen- 
sure even if they are at least as effective as the expressly 
stated and enforced restrictions. 

Under such circumstances, certain college administrators 
are sympathetic with the plight of students in a chapter 
bound by a restrictive clause with which the students dis- 
agree. The administrators do not wish such students to be 
unduly penalized by campus pressure for change. Both col- 
lege administrators and student leaders often attempt to 
reach a solution without hurting, as they view it, the wrong 
people. They seldom exhibit a similar sensitivity about the 
damage to those who are rejected and excluded and to those 
who are self-segregated. 

This attitude attempts to conserve whatever useful values 
chapter members derive from national connections, as long 
as there is a hope of remedying the undesirable aspects of 
the relationship. Under this formula, the chapter is usually 
required only to register whatever restrictive rules its 
national places upon it and then to undertake to bring about 
a change in those rules. In many cases as at the Uni- 
versity of Minnesota a review committee determines each 
year whether or not such efforts at change are actually being 

The difficulties in putting this formula into effect are 
great and may eventually force institutions holding it to set 


a deadline for compliance. For example, even though the 
regulation has been in effect with some modification at the 
University of Minnesota since 1948, eight fraternities (but 
no sororities) on that campus still had restrictive clauses in 
1955. For that matter, there were only ten major national 
fraternities in the country that still had such clauses. But 
what about the behavior of a great many more? 

The chief modifications in the Minnesota formula have 
been two. In 1949 responsibility for the elimination of re- 
strictions was placed more clearly upon the chapter. In 
1953 the continuation of many clauses led to the establish- 
ment of a policy requiring chapters to "indicate the existence 
of an adequate and honest effort ... to conform to the 
University's 1949 policy/' 

Similar policies and procedures were established at the 
University of Colorado and at Syracuse University in the 
spring of 1950. Colorado required evidence of "progress 
made toward the elimination of such discriminatory clause." 
Syracuse defined "satisfactory effort" as including "contact- 
ing fellow chapters"; "introducing a motion ... on the floor 
of the national convention"; "voting against any motions to 
suppress, withdraw or defer action"; and "voting for all 
motions hastening . . . adoption." 

Under such a regulation, the college administration can 
be satisfied year after year by a plausible report rather than 
by concrete accomplishments. Moreover, the most "ade- 
quate and honest" efforts by a few chapters of a national 
cannot move machinery built to resist such pressure pres- 
sure, that is, short of an ultimatum. Only the need to save 
a chapter or chapters can occasion modification. An effective 
procedure, in other words, requires some form of sanction 
or deadline. 


(3) De-emphasis of fraternity distinctions. On some 
campuses, administrative policies are used to attack prac- 
tices fostering snobbishness in general rather than ethnic and 
racial group-rejection in particular. These influence wealthier 
chapters to maintain fewer artificial advantages (such as 
especially luxurious houses ) over other fraternities and over 
groups of independents living in dormitories. 

At Brown University men's fraternities use facilities fur- 
nished by the institution facilities similar to those occupied 
by nonfraternity men. Brown also opposes the establishment 
of new discriminator)' fraternities. Professor Vincent Heath 
Whitney says of Brown's housing arrangement: 

The quadrangle has removed the outstanding deviant feature of 
fraternity life on the campus: separate identity based on distinctive 
residential houses, largely removed in practice from University con- 
trol. It has forced fraternities to attract members on other merits. 
Fraternity life has been incorporated into University life, and in the 
process of assimilation the two have inevitably come closer together. 

As he indicates, however, the lack of 100-per-cent member- 
ship and the presence of self-segregative practices still leave 
the situation far short of the announced educational goals 
of the university's president, Henry Merritt Wriston. As 
the Brown Daily Herald put it, June 4, 1954, "the basic 
trouble with the Brown social system at the present time is 
that it is undemocratic." On the other hand, probably in 
part because of a decline in student disturbances in the 
housing controlled by the university, the fraternity academic 
average in 1952-54 is reported by Whitney to have exceeded 
the nonfraternity average. 

At such colleges as Swarthmore, Ripon, and Beloit, de- 
emphasis of distinctions has taken the form of a limit upon 
the size of each fraternal group. In addition, at Swarthmore 
the men's fraternities have to face what amounts to competi- 


tive rushing even from the independents. Women's sororities 
were banned in 1934, and student referenduins concerning 
the men's fraternities have scored high votes against them, 
although not high enough to kill them off. Because these 
fraternities are on the defensive, they attempt to be es- 
pecially useful They have houses but no eating or sleeping 
facilities, and they have to struggle to maintain their hold on 
a segment of the students. 

So-called "integrated rushing" offers still another way of 
de-emphasizing fraternity distinctions. As proposed at 
Northwestern University, this plan provides that each can- 
didate for fraternity membership be invited to a minimum 
of perhaps five or more chapters for their rushing events. In 
this way, no interested student can be monopolized by one 
house, or fail to be considered by a group of lodges. 

Such contributions to desegregation are indirect rather 
than direct. They include the creation on the campus of a 
somewhat more democratic atmosphere, which can nurture 
an increased willingness to oppose group-rejective practices. 
But this policy achieves little further progress unless a new 
source of prodemocratic pressure appears. 

(4) A deadline for democracy (the "Michigan plan"). 
The fourth land of campus action sets a definite target date 
and specific sanctions in order to stiffen the process of per- 
suasion. In requiring a chapter to conform to the campus 
anti-bias policy by a certain date, the college gives the 
national a chance to keep the chapter. Usually five years 
are allowed. If change has not been made by that date, the 
chapter is not permitted to remain on the campus unless it 
severs its ties with the national. To be even more gradual, 
students at Colgate University in 1954 adopted a rule allow- 
ing a ten-year period for such a change, but even that period 
was too short for the administration, and it vetoed the pro- 


posed rule. The requirement varies from a "deadline for 
clauses" to a "deadline for integration." 

The student legislature at the University of Michigan 
evolved the deadline-for-clauses formula in 1950 out of a 
ferment over many years concerning what to do about dis- 
criminatory practices. Student leaders there had easily 
reached an agreement among themselves and with the ad- 
ministration that group-rejective practices are hostile to col- 
lege objectives. In 1949 the administration approved a rule 
barring new discriminatory fraternities and thus recognized 
the principle of college concern with self-segregation. But 
when reform of existing fraternities is considered, timing 
and method become points for disagreement. 

The university's student legislature in November 1950 
proposed the "Michigan plan" with a term of six years for 
the elimination of restrictive clauses. This move was to be 
a prelude to the elimination of restrictive practices. 

To give something of the flavor of student opinion con- 
cerning this plan, let us look at arguments before the Michi- 
gan Forum early in 1951 on the question "Should the Uni- 
versity force removal of discriminatory clauses?" Participants 
in the forum debate were all students. In the affirmative 
were Philip Dawson, editorial editor of the Michigan Daily, 
and Al Blumrosen, former city editor of the Daily. In the 
negative were Peter Johnstone, chairman of the human rela- 
tions committee of the interfraternity council, and John 
Ryder, former president of the student legislature. 

Affirmative propositions used in this debate may be sum- 
marized as follows: 

( 1 ) The student legislature and the university clearly 
have the right to take such action. The legislature, 
which expresses student opinion, can legitimately rec- 
ommend such a policy. The university can then give 
the legislature's action the force of official regulation. 


By constitutional and bylaw powers and by precedent, 
the student legislature and the university are correct in 
acting against discriminatory clauses. 

(2) The basic purpose of the Michigan plan is to 
remove the institutionalized basis for discrimination. 
Restrictive requirements cannot be condoned by a 
student government or university administration which 
adheres to the principle of free and equal educational 
opportunity regardless of race, religion, and color. 

(3) If adopted as university policy, the Michigan 
plan will: 

(a) Help a local chapter in its national convention 
to convey the gravity 7 of the need to remove the clause. 

(b) Convince apathetic and recalcitrant local chap- 
ters that they must either press for change or cease to 
continue as recognized campus organizations. 

(c) Provide the impetus for fraternities to avoid 
adverse nation-wide criticism for fostering and pre- 
serving a discriminatory system. 

(4) The plan is flexible. If necessary, certain modi- 
fications can be made in it without seriously weakening 
it. The deadline feature must not be eliminated, but 
it can be administered in a way that will assure fair 
opportunities to all organizations concerned. 

The negative arguments in this debate were briefly these: 

( 1 ) Only by careful educational programs conducted 
within the fraternity system by the groups concerned 
can the real cancer of discrimination and intolerance 
actually be removed. 

(2) Harsh and militant actions against fraternities 
and their discriminatory clauses by outside groups can 
destroy advances gained through self-educational pro- 


(3) Coercive measures wiU drive discriminatory reg- 
ulations out of formal constitutional provisions and 
into such covert equivalents as secret rituals. 

(4) Some national fraternities will not react to the 
request of their Michigan chapters to remove the clauses 
even at the cost of losing these chapters. 

(5) By merely keeping the question before the na- 
tional fraternity conventions ( as the local interf raternity 
council at the University of Michigan requires) with- 
out establishing a deadline, substantial action against 
discrimination will result. 

In the fall of 1950, a joint committee of the student legisla- 
ture and the interfraternity council prepared a strong resolu- 
tion presumably acceptable to both organizations. It con- 
tained these provisions: 

(1) All organizations which had discriminatory 
clauses in their local and/or national constitutions 
were to eliminate them by October 15, 1956, as a condi- 
tion of continued university recognition. Specifically ex- 
empted were "church-connected student religious 
groups whose primary functions are religious in nature," 
which still might require adherence to certain religious 

(2) Organizations having such national discrimina- 
tory clauses were to present repealing motions on the 
floors of their national conventions and to vote posi- 
tively for the motions. 

(3) These organizations were to report annually to 
the faculty-student committee on student affairs, indi- 
cating action by their national organization, and efforts 
by the local in the national, until such clauses should 
be removed. 

(4) Organizations still having such discriminatory 


clauses on October 15, 1956, were to be denied recogni- 
tion until such time as the clause should be removed. 
(5) The committee on student affairs was authorized 
to grant annual extensions to local units of nationals 
which maintained discriminatory clauses after the dead- 
line, "at its discretion . . . and only if the student 
organization has made a positive showing that there is 
a substantial probability that all such discriminatory 
clauses will be removed in the near future." 

The student committee presented this resolution to the 
student legislature in November. The legislature merely 
added two proposals. The first would make organizational 
inactivity because of national emergency a basis for extend- 
ing the deadline. The second asked for the appointment of a 
committee to determine the criteria for the "substantial 
probability" that discriminatory clauses would be removed. 
This committee was to represent the interfraternity council, 
the panhellenic council, and the student legislature. 

Although the interfraternity council objected strongly to 
the proposed resolution, contending that the "escape clause" 
was still not flexible enough, the student legislature adopted 
the resolution in February 1951. The student-faculty com- 
mittee on student affairs ratified it by a 7-to-6 vote on 
March 6. It then went to President Alexander G. Ruthven 
for final disposition. 

On May 29, 1951, during the final week of the academic 
year, Ruthven vetoed the resolution. He did so, he said, for 
two reasons. "It is a long established rule of law," he 
asserted, "that no individual has an inherent right to mem- 
bership in any particular organization." He also pointed 
to. the university's rule that no new fraternity with dis- 
cariaifaatory clauses could be established. In the second 
contended that when the existing fraternities had 


come onto the campus, the college administration knew of 
their restrictive policies; he felt that chapters that had in 
good faith sought to change such restrictions in their na- 
tional constitutions should not be penalized. He assumed 
that a fraternity has a 'legal right" to define qualifications 
for membership. (It is of interest to recall the subsequent 
1954 action of the U.S. Supreme Court in the case arising in 
connection with the State University of New York. In that 
decision it was held that a fraternity does not have a 'legal 
right" to continue on a college campus.) 

The Michigan Daily called Ruthven's action "an unex- 
pected and unwarranted ruling," which abruptly swept aside 
more than two years of sincere student effort. The Daily 
particularly criticized what it called the placing of property 
rights above human rights, "an indefensible stand for a 
University aiming to be worthy in all respects of a great 

The Daily and the student legislature did not accept this 
defeat quietly. When the next academic year began, the 
university had a new president, Harlan H. Hatcher, The 
Daily continued its campaign. On February 13, 1952, the 
student legislature adopted a watered-down resolution (later 
ratified by the committee on student affairs) which avoided 
the deadline problem. This called for the withdrawal of 
recognition only from organizations that failed to make 
formal efforts to have restrictive clauses changed. 

President Hatcher vetoed this resolution. He noted gen- 
eral progress in the nation in moving toward egalitarian 
ideals and said that the 

. . . fraternities and sororities have responded to this changing at- 
mosphere. There are indications that they will continue to do so. 
The overwhelming majority of us are in agreement on the principles 
of our democratic society. 


However, on the more controversial aspects of the resolu- 
tion, he asserted: 

Difference of opinion arises on the quesaon of methods and time 
sequence. We believe that the processes of education and personal 
and group convictions will bring us fonvard faster, and on a sounder 
basis, than the proposed methods of coercion. "While commending the 
sincere and earnest concern behind the proposal . . . the University 
must decline to endorse this mode of attack. 

In commenting upon this series of efforts at the University 
of Michigan, Professor Charles Radf ord Lawrence of Brook- 
lyn College, a careful student of intergroup relations on 
American campuses, deals with the argument that fraterni- 
ties there might have sho\vn more progress in solving this 
problem had nonfraternity agitators against self -segregation 
left them alone: 

The situation brings to mind the analogy between discriminatory 
college fraternities and the attitude of many white Southerners who 
say, "If you Northerners will only leave us alone, we will be able to 
setde the problem of Negro-white relations satisfactorily. Your agita- 
tion only serves to strengthen the hands of our more reactionary ele- 
ments."' There is a certain element of truth in this allegation; yet it is 
only in the presence of outside agitation and pressure, including legisla- 
tive and legal pressure, that the more liberal Southerners seem to be 
able to convince Southern legislatures and other responsible groups to 
make more equitable concessions. 

Although the University of Michigan has not accepted 
the plan worked out by its own students, the Michigan 
plan has inspired a dozen adaptations. For example, the 
large public urban institution in nearby Detroit, Wayne 
University, went through a series of steps in coping with 
discriminatory fraternities similar to the actions at the Uni- 
versity of Minnesota. Then in the spring of 1954, Wayne's 
university council (the principal faculty legislative group) 
ordered that "the four organizations left on campus which 
have discriminatory membership clauses be informed of the 


necessity for abolishing such clauses/ 7 The council set Sep- 
tember 1, 1960, as the date after which "no University 
recognition would be given to student organizations which 
have discriminatory membership clauses." 

Where students have had an opportunity to record their 
opinions on the subject, they have with only a few exceptions 
voted for a deadline. Even at such a stronghold of fraterni- 
ties and sororities as Northwestern University, the students 
voted (1287 to 1210) to set a 1960 deadline for the removal 
of restrictive clauses; an option would have allowed for 
exceptions in special situations. But the faculty committee 
concerned with the matter rejected the deadline. 

With administrative support, the efforts of students at 
Dartmouth College came to quite different results. In 1948, 
President John Sloan Dickey announced a clear opposition 
to fraternity discrimination on his campus. He said: 'This 
college neither teaches nor practices religious or racial pre- 
judice, and I do not believe that it can for long permit certain 
national fraternities through their charter provisions or na- 
tional policies to impose prejudice on Dartmouth men." 

Dartmouth students were also stimulated by an action of 
the Northeastern Interfraternity Conference at its meeting 
at Amherst, on October 18, 1949, requesting the National 
Interfraternity Conference to call upon nationals to elimi- 
nate discriminatory clauses. Dartmouth's own representa- 
tive did not attend, but representatives were there from 
Amherst College, Cornell University, Massachusetts Insti- 
tute of Technology, Middlebury College, Rensselaer Poly- 
technic Institute, St Lawrence University, Syracuse Uni- 
versity, Union College, University of Maine, University of 
Massachusetts, University of Vermont, and Worcester Poly- 
technic Institute. 

The Dartmouth, the student daily newspaper, immedi- 
ately started to agitate for local changes and, with the co- 


operation of a group of student organizations, it polled four 
out of five undergraduates the next month. As we have seen, 
fraternity men as well as students generally voted in a ratio 
of 3 to 1 in favor of eliminating racial and religious restric- 
tions. About 1 out of 6 opposed change, and the rest were 

The Dartmouth student council then went through several 
stages in policy formation which eventually brought that 
campus to a deadline-for-integration. On March 1, 1950, 
the council submitted these alternatives to the students: (a) 
an April 1, 1952, end to interfraternity competition (includ- 
ing rushing) by "fraternities whose constitutions restrict, or 
might be interpreted to restrict, membership because of race, 
religion, or national origin"; (b) a requirement that chapters 
with restrictive provisions annually demonstrate that they 
have "exhausted all possible means of eliminating such 
clauses, short of disaffiliation with their national organiza- 
tions" or face loss of recognition; and (c) "no action at this 
time." The student newspaper and a group of student 
organizations favored the first proposal, while the inter- 
fraternity council favored the second. Nine-tenths of the 
students voted. Only one-tenth of the total student body 
supported the third proposal even though one-third be- 
longed to fraternities with restrictive clauses or with other 
required segregative practices. 

The second proposal carried, with 54 per cent of the votes. 
With minor changes this became the student council's of- 
ficial policy. The more coercive first proposal had polled 
36 per cent of the votes. 

A statement supporting the third (~no action") proposal 
by a student spokesman for a segregative fraternity (Sigma 
Phi Epsilon) is worth quoting in part because it is typical 
of a kind of apparent co-operation with change that actually 
constitutes resistance: 


It is possible to take a more mature approach than is evidenced by 
either of these [first two] proposals. We must realize that this, like 
all social reforms, will take time. . . . We must take some action surely, 
but not action which is punitive and destructive. The assumption 
that the men and fraternities of this College will not take action 
except when bludgeoned is ridiculous. 

In implementing the 1950 policy, the review committee 
of the Dartmouth student council learned in 1952 that one 
fraternity, Theta Chi, had not met the requirement and 
barred it from competition for a semester. The chapter in- 
formed its national that it would no longer abide by the 
national's "Caucasian" clause; the national thereupon with- 
drew the charter of the chapter, which reorganized as a 
local. In view of its changed policies, the new local was 
immediately recognized by the Dartmouth interfraternity 
council as an independent local fraternity and given com- 
petition privileges. 

After experimenting for four years with the "best efforts" 
formula, the Dartmouth student council in March 1954 
again gave undergraduates an opportunity to choose among 
approximately the same alternatives as in 1950, with the 
deadline in the first alternative further strengthened to in- 
clude "written or unwritten" mandates to discriminate. In 
other words, the 1960 deadline proposed was to be one for 
the end of discriminatory practices, not just for the end of 
discriminatory clauses. During the discussion preceding the 
vote, the student daily newspaper reported that the group 
still in favor of the implemented "best efforts" formula ac- 
knowledged that their program would take at least fifteen 
or twenty years to carry out. 

Over 50 per cent of the Dartmouth students voted in 
1954 for a deadline a marked increase from the 36 per 
cent in the 1950 vote. The less coercive plan already in 
operation attracted almost two-fifths of the ballots, and 
about one-eighth, as we have seen, wished to stop the pres- 


sure entirely. This overwhelming opposition to restrictions 
by almost nine-tenths of those voting was particularly 
significant in view of the fact that four-fifths of the eligible 
students in Dartmouth's three upper classes were fraternity 
members, and one-half of these belonged to nationals with 
restrictions. As before, the Dartmouth administration sanc- 
tioned the policy chosen by the majority of the undergradu- 

Let us look briefly at three other examples of deadline 
actions those at die University of Wisconsin, Columbia 
University, and the University of Chicago. 

In 1952 the faculty-student committee on human rights 
at the University of Wisconsin proposed, and the board of 
regents approved, the following comprehensive resolution 
concerning social and professional fraternities and sororities: 

(1) That no new organization with charter provisions discriminat- 
ing against candidates because of race, color, or creed be approved 
by the University. 

(2) That organizations now on the campus which have such a 
provision be required to counsel annually with the Committee on 
Human Rights. That continued approval of such organizations be 
conditioned upon a determined effort on their part to secure amend- 
ments to their respective constitutions eliminating such restrictions. 

(3) That no such organization which has in its national or local 
constitution or pledge instructions a discriminatory clause shall be 
approved by the University after July 1, 1960. 

(4) That organizations having a restrictive clause in their respec- 
tive constitutions shall make their policy, with regard to it, known 
to prospective pledges. 

(5) That the chapters be advised that no action herein recom- 
mended in any way abridges the chapter's freedom to select individual 
members on their individual merits. 

At Columbia University, the committee on student organi- 
zations in 1953 set an October 1, 1960, deadline for the 
withdrawal of recognition "from any fraternity, social organ- 
ization, or other student group that ... is compelled by its 
constitution, rituals, or government to deny membership 


to any person because of his race, color, or religion." It 
excused from the rule only student groups "organized in 
good faith for devotional purposes or for the study or 
propagation of a religious faith." 

The University of Chicago originally set a deadline of 
October 1, 1953, for the elimination of discriminatory clauses 
and then provided a basis for extension of recognition upon 
appeal until October 15, 1954. To comply with the final 
deadline, each fraternity and other organization had to 
"state publicly and officially that we are not bound by any 
constitutional provision and structure, by-law, or agreement 
in any form, to limit or prohibit membership in our organiza- 
tion on the basis of race, religion, color, or national origin." 
The one problem fraternity on that campus, Phi Delta Theta, 
met the deadline as the result of a preliminary action by its 
national body to change its "Aryan" clause. Whether this 
change would involve more than formal compliance re- 
mained to be seen. 

The cries of unhappiness from fraternity publications and 
leaders against deadlines would attract more sympathy 
if they carried out their own alternative education toward 
self-correction in a determined and productive way. As 
we shall see in the next chapter, very few national fra- 
ternities men's or women's have attempted to educate 
their members toward brotherhood or sisterhood. And less 
than one-fifth of the nation's colleges where fraternities are 
major factors have tried to affect their campus groups with 
even noncoercive efforts at change. 

In view of this resistance, more and more institutions 
may find themselves pushed to such drastic action as that 
taken at the State University of New York (discussed in 
Chapter 1) and at the University of Connecticut Because 
of the very substantial role of the fraternity system in many 


public colleges and universities, the Connecticut develop- 
ment contains elements that may become widespread. 

At the University of Connecticut, as at many state col- 
leges, fraternity and sorority houses are erected on state 
property. Thus the discriminatory practices of the chapters 
involve public property. This is especially true when little 
or no rent is charged for the use of the state land. 

The University of Connecticut, recognizing this problem, 
in 1949 decreed the immediate discontinuance of discrimi- 
natory fraternities and sororities "on that land owned by 
the people of this State, and known as the University of Con- 
necticut/' As a result, four fraternities Lambda Chi Alpha, 
Sigma Nu, Kappa Sigma, and Sigma Chi w^ere obliged in 
1951 to disaffiliate from their nationals and to re-establish 
themselves as independent and non-discriminatory locals. 

Such action could probably also be launched through 
litigation in behalf of a deprived student. In this area, the 
United States Supreme Court has taken several significant 
steps. In its May 17, 1954, decisions outlawing segregated 
schools, it brushed aside the older doctrine (the so-called 
"Plessy doctrine," established by the same court in 1896) 
which had asserted that separate-but-equal facilities satisfied 
Constitutional guarantees of nondiscrimination on racial 
grounds. These new 1954 decisions declared segregation in 
itself to be harmful, and in schools to be a violation of the 
rights of citizens. It might be contended that what a public 
educational institution may not do, a recognized adjunct of 
that school can scarcely find legal justification for doing. 

Discriminatory fraternities pleading for freedom from col- 
lege "interf erence" might well remember in this connection 
that public institutions perforce use substantial sums of 
public money to supervise fraternity chapters. Long ex- 
perience has taught deans that fraternity morals and finances 
require some checking more than the nationals can and 


will give. Deans of students at state universities thus use 
public funds for the maintenance of discriminatory social 
organizations. In his cogent paper on this subject in the 
Southern California Law Review (1952), entitled "Dis- 
criminatory Fraternities at State Universities A Violation 
of the Fourteenth Amendment?" Professor Harold W. Horo- 
witz, of the University of Southern California law school, 

It is not here contended that discriminatory fraternities themselves 
act in violation of the Constitution. The argument here advanced is 
only that if a particular group desired to retain its recognition at a state 
university it would be free to adopt any membership policies it liked, 
and to accept or reject individuals for membership on any basis it 
liked, as long as its membership policies did not rest on exclusion on 
the basis of race, religion or color. If an organization decided to 
discriminate on those grounds it would be free to do so, but it would 
have to do so as an organization not officially recognized by the 
state university. . . . 

The unconstitutionality of the recognition by state universities of 
fraternities which discriminate on the basis of race, religion or color, 
seems clear. Recognition of this conclusion will be a further step 
toward achieving truly democratic education in state educational 

In 1950, Chief Justice Frederick M. Vinson wrote the 
U.S. Supreme Court decision in the McLaurin case on the 
admission of a Negro to graduate study at the University of 
Oklahoma. Said Justice Vinson: 

It may be argued that appellant will be in no better position when 
these restrictions are removed, for he may still be set apart by his 
fellow students. This we think irrelevant. There is a vast difference 
a Constitutional difference between restrictions imposed by the 
state which prohibit the intellectual commingling of students, and the 
refusal of individuals to commingle where the state presents no such 
bar. . . . The removal of the state restrictions will not necessarily abate 
individual and group predilections, prejudices and choices. But at the 
very least, the state will not be depriving appellant of the opportunity 
to secure acceptance by his fellow students on his own merits. 


As we have seen, the State University of New York took 


its responsibilities in this regard very seriously. On the basis 
of the perversion of educational processes rather than 
merely of the diversion of public funds or sendees to dis- 
criminatory purposes it outlawed national fraternities 
because of their persistence in discriminatory practices, and 
the United States Supreme Court on November 8, 1954, 
sustained its action. 

Another public college, San Francisco State College, also 
did not bother with a deadline. Its board of directors and 
deans* committee ruled in 1933: "Membership in officially 
recognized college organizations shall be available to stu- 
dents of San Francisco State College regardless of race, 
creed, or political affiliation/' 

The achievement of unrestricted selection of members is 
of course best obtained through student leadership. But 
change by fiat administrative or judicial may be neces- 
sary where the public is directly concerned, because of the 
violation of law or of democratic principles. Just as thousands 
of indecisive public-school administrators were thankful to 
the United States Supreme Court for forcing them to do 
what they wanted to do in desegregating their classrooms, 
so a great many indecisive college administrators would be 
happy to be forced to combat Aryanism in social fraternities. 
In addition, many enlightened fraternity members would be 
relieved to have support in their efforts to make these social 
organizations worthy adjuncts of a democratic educational 


Aryanism Goes Underground 

If men conducted their fraternities as subtly as women 
do, much less would be known now about their discrimi- 
natory policies and practices. We would be able to report 
very little more than the damaging consequences of self- 

In fraternities, men are apparently less confident tiban 
women that they control their student members. Men have 
found it necessary to write down restrictive rules that women 
are able to enforce effectively and diplomatically without 
putting them into constitutions, bylaws, charters, and rituals. 

In short, a "gentlemen's agreement" is apparently not 
nearly so dependable in men's fraternities as a 'ladies* agree- 
ment" in women's fraternities. 

The relations between alumnae and undergraduate mem- 
bers in women's fraternities are much closer than those be- 
tween alumni and college members in men's. Alumnae 
have more closely knit clubs, and they participate more 
directly, fully, and consistently in planning and recruitment 
for the chapter. Men are not likely to be able to imitate 
women in informal controls of an effective sort upon mem- 
bership selection. Alumni will probably continue to depend 
upon more formal understandings and techniques, ones 
more easily spotted and attacked, in counteracting idealistic 



undergraduate efforts to break down racial, religious, and 
ethnic self-segregation. 

In 1935, before the movement to eliminate bias began, 
more than one-half of the men's nationals had restrictive 
clauses. Not more than six had policies of eligibility 
whether operative or not that reflected a non-segregative 
conception. At the same time, only six women's nationals of 
prominence had formal restrictive clauses. As subsequent 
events have shown, a great many of the other fraternities 
both men's and women's have traditions, procedures, 
and initiation obligations that deprive the college chapter 
of freedom to select new members on the basis of individual 
personal criteria. 

Formal constitutional clauses of an obviously restrictive 
nature are disappearing rapidly. By 1960, perhaps only two 
or three nationals will still have discriminator} 7 clauses. 
Among the 61 men's nationals in the National Interfraternity 
Conference, the number with such clauses fell from 25 to 
10 between 1948 and 1954. What has happened in the dozen 
or more small men's nationals outside of the NIC is not 
precisely known; but the trend is in the same direction. 

Among the 31 members and one associate in the women's 
National Panhellenic Conference, only one, Theta Phi Alpha 
(a Roman Catholic sorority), now has a written restrictive 
provision. Of the eight or more small women's nationals 
outside the NPC, one or two still have such clauses; but 
these involve few chapters. 

To what extent do formal changes in clauses produce 
modifications in fraternity practices? We have been able 
to bring together in this book certain promising incidents, 
situations, and tendencies but the gains are still modest. 
Although it has disappeared from formal documents, Aryan- 
ism has not died out; in most cases it is very much alive even 
though underground, 


The elimination of clauses is merely a first step in break- 
ing down self -segregation. It clears away a formal obstruc- 
tion. It does not lead very far toward a nonsegregated 
campus or a nonsegregated fraternity. For example., in addi- 
tion to the ten men's NIC fraternities which early in 1955 
still had restrictive clauses, at least nine others included in 
their basic documents phrases that achieved the same goals. 
As we shall see, many others secure restriction through 
secret rituals or through unwritten but strictly enforced 

Steps beyond clause elimination involve changes in prac- 
tice. As Chapter 4 demonstrates, such changes are possible 
only where the college determines that the continuance of 
group-rejective restrictions is no longer compatible with its 
basic educational objectives. In the national fraternity such 
change comes when enough college administrations threaten 
the existence of cherished chapters in order to force ex- 
pedient modifications in deeds as well as words. 

Recent developments in Phi Delta Theta are typical of 
fraternities seeking to maintain informal defiance of new 
requirements. When this fraternity was founded in 1848, 
its members apparently saw no more need than others of the 
time for restrictive clauses. College populations were made 
up overwhelmingly of white Protestants, and the issue of 
discrimination did not arise. 

The shrinking world of the twentieth century, together 
with the upward mobility of American minority groups, 
threw new light on the situation. The Phi Delt general con- 
ventions of 1910 and 1912 adopted a constitutional amend- 
ment that limited membership to male students "of full 
Aryan blood." Such biased provisions variously worded 
were then becoming common among fraternities. 

But following World War II, Phi Delt national convea- 


tions began in 1948 to wrestle with ways to translate the 
"Aryan blood" clause into less obnoxious terms. In that year, 
a proposed amendment sought to limit membership to white 
male Christians. A number of World War II veterans among 
the student delegates wanted to do away completely with 
the "Aryan blood" nonsense. The amendment therefore 
failed to receive the required three-fourths support. 

Two years later those who drafted a new amendment 
proposal tried what they hoped would be a subtle transla- 
tion, one that would disarm anti-segregationists. They pro- 
posed to limit membership to male students who conformed 
to such standards "as those traditionally required for mem- 
bership.** This also failed, even though college pressure on 
Phi Delta Theta was building up* The 1952 convention saw 
a similar impasse. 

Then in 1952-53 the Phi Delts lost their Williams and 
Amherst chapters. When the national executive secretary of 
the fraternity insisted in 1952 that a Jewish pledge be 
dropped, the Williams chapter (as we saw in Chapter 2) 
refused. Its president wrote to the national office that, 
"most important of all, we have seriously considered the 
moral implications of this clause, and we believe it to be 
incompatible with the principles of friendship and Christian 
ethics as espoused in the Bond of Phi Delta Theta." The 
chapter was suspended. In response to the ruling of the 
Amherst trustees discussed in Chapter 4, the chapter there 
informed the college administration in 1952 that "hence- 
forth there shall be no prohibition or restriction by reason 
of race, color or creed affecting the selection of members of 
this chapter.** The group then proceeded to behave in line 
with this commitment It was also suspended. 

At Minnesota, Chicago, Dartmouth, and Wisconsin, Phi 
Delta Theta chapters faced strong campus pressures for 
change, At Minnesota, the pressure came from the opera- 


tion of the "best efforts" rule. The University of Chicago 
had set October 1954 as a deadline for the elimination of 
restrictive clauses; should the Chicago chapter be unable 
to comply, it faced loss of campus recognition. The Dart- 
mouth and Wisconsin "deadlines for democracy" were a 
little further off in 1960. 

With two chapters suspended and four more threatened, 
the 1954 national Phi Delta Theta convention finally re- 
pealed its "Aryan blood" clause, subject to ratification at its 
1956 convention. The convention replaced the old pro- 
vision with one limiting membership to "such as are socially 
acceptable to all members of the fraternity/* This change 
saved the University of Chicago chapter, because the Chi- 
cago regulation dealt only with specific restrictive language 
in policy documents. That the intent of this national fra- 
ternity remains the same is clear from the fact that that 
same 1954 convention sustained the suspension of the Wil- 
liams and Amherst chapters. 

Other fraternities have taken similar action. Sigma Alpha 
Epsilon, to illustrate, replaced its restrictive clause with a 
"socially accepted" one, and its Cornell University house 
president indicated that the substitution was to meet techni- 
cal requirements on some campuses without a modification 
in practices. 

Other types of subterfuge have also developed. Phi 
Gamma Delta, for example, after removing its restrictive 
clause, ordered that every proposed new member must be 
formally approved by the national organization. Chapters 
understand that the national will not approve a person pre- 
viously ineligible under the eliminated clause. 

Pi Kappa Phi wrote its restriction into its ritual after 
formally removing the clause from its constitution. The 
same has been done by many other fraternities. Still others, 
which had restrictions only in their rituals, did not need to 


change a constitutional clause in order to qualify under 
rules in force on certain campuses, because rituals are not 
ordinarily open to inspection. 

Phi Kappa Psi has never had a constitutional or a ritual 
requirement to discriminate, but it nevertheless expelled 
its Amherst chapter for "unfraternaT conduct the pledg- 
ing of a Negro. As we have seen, the national judged this 
action to be a violation of treasured traditions which it held 
to be just as binding as written statements. 

When Delta Upsilon deleted its restrictive clause, it de- 
pended upon its procedures to screen the qualifications of 
prospective members. To preserve or resurrect its chapters 
during and after World War I, it had in 1917 given all 
alumni life membership in their college chapter, with the 
power to blackball any proposed new member. 

With such a range of devices to evade the many efforts to 
combat self-segregation, it is little wonder that the 1954 
delegates to the undergraduate conference at the National 
Interfratemity Conference formally requested national fra- 
ternities to "make available to their respective chapters 
factual information regarding college and state actions in 
reference to selectivity in membership." Their resolution 
added: "It is felt that such information will be instrumental 
in aiding the process of educating fraternity men to a better 
understanding of the problem," 

It should be noted that a number of fraternities have 
observed their changes in membership policies without re- 
sorting to subterfuge. The president of Zeta Beta Tau, for 
example, in 1954 notified alumni and undergraduate mem- 
bers, following a change in membership restrictions: 

We have undertaken this step in complete honesty and we have no 
"unwritten" rule or understanding to stop a chapter from taking any 
man it desires to pledge or initiate. 


At whose doorstep should we lay the tenacious adherence 
to group-rejection in the face of strong pressures from local 
chapters, college leaders, and the general public? Can the 
tortured generalities and adroit procedures outlined above 
succeed in dissipating, without much real change, the anti- 
segregationist movement? Answers to these questions de- 
pend upon one's perspective. 

Undergraduate fraternity members generally support the 
removal of racial and religious barriers to membership. They 
blame their elders for the defects in the fraternities they 
inherited. Alumni, they say, developed self -segregation, and 
alumni attempt to preserve it. Professor E, Jackson Baur 
tells of a form of this revolt at the University of Kansas and 
suggests its extent: 

Jewish students are pledged and initiated in defiance of national 
rules. Their names are simply listed along with the others. The 
national offices do not challenge this practice because most of the 
K.U. chapters are long established. However, at the University of 
Wichita, which has grown rapidly in recent years and at which 
several chapters of national organizations have been newly organized, 
the national offices have objected to pledging Jewish students. 

Alumni often see the picture differently. Lloyd S. Cochran, 
then president of the National Interfraternity Conference, 
told the 1954 convention of his fraternity, Alpha Sigma 

We find student organizations which are reaching over the fence 
of their prerogative and telling us how to run our fraternities and 
how to establish our membership requirements. We find aloof and 
unfriendly college administrators, not appreciating the ideals and 
values that a fraternity should bring, who put stumbling blocks in 
our way. We have a war on our hands. 

Alumni often assert that undergraduates lack the neces- 
sary maturity to understand all the implications of desegre- 
gation. They try to discount the reform movement as 


sectional the creation of administrative pressure upon 
students in small and well-established northeastern col- 
leges. One alumnus long active in fraternity affairs, Albert 
S. Bard (Amherst '88), asserted that his alma mater was 
forcing students to "break their pledged word" to their na- 
tional fraternity: 

... the college entered into a compact with the Amherst chapter 
of one of its fraternities that if it and its members would violate its 
and their obligations, solemnly taken, to their own fraternity, tike 
chapter might remain on the Amherst campus. . . . 

My claim is that this action by the college makes it a deliberate 
partner in a violation of the pledged word. 

Such alumni also claim that the nation's campuses outside of 
the northeast are indifferent to the problem, and that south- 
ern and southwestern fraternity undergraduates strongly 
oppose change. As Chaper 4 indicates., this sectional inter- 
pretation is overdrawn. Moreover, student reform move- 
ments have been aided by some college administrators and 
opposed by others. 

Even though fraternities function in many respects 
competitively, their alumni leaders seek to reach broad 
agreement on general policies through the National Inter- 
fraternity Conference and the National Panhellenic Confer- 
ence. Actions of the NIC on self-segregation are clear 
indications of alumni responsibility for the maintenance of 
restrictions. Within the NIC, friction between alumni and 
undergraduates emphasizes the basic solidarity of active 
alumna. Once again, the ladies are more subtle; the National 
Panhellenic did not need to act. 

For the first time in twenty-five years, discrimination in 
membership qualifications became a major issue at the NIC 
convention in 1947. The president, David A. Embury, out- 
lined the problem as he saw it: 


During the past several years campus after campus has called upon 
its fraternities and sororities (and, as with every anti-fraternity 
movement, these attacks are likely to be aimed first and as an entering 
wedge at the sororities as the weaker of the two groups) asking for 
the submission of copies of their national constitutions and announcing 
that any restrictions therein based on race, creed, or color must be 
removed. These actions have varied all the way from a polite sug- 
gestion, allegedly based on the improvement of student relations and 
campus morale, to a blunt "Do it or get off the campus." 

Now, we know that in large part this movement has originated 
with student councils, especially student councils dominated by the 
AYD [American Youth for Democracy] and other left-wing radicals. 
The trouble is that it has not stopped there. I am not afraid of the 
man who says, **I am a Communist and, in the name of Communism, 
I demand thus and so." I am, however, afraid of the big-hearted, 
liberal-minded fellow who, without bothering too much to think 
things through for himself, falls for the high-sounding but wholly 
specious pseudo-altruistic arguments of the left-wing rabble-rouser 
and takes up the cudgel for the chap whom he sincerely, although 
erroneously, regards as the under-dog. And the time to set mm straight 
is before the cup of anti-fraternity poison has been held to his lips, not 
after he has swallowed it! 

And we are doing little or nothing to help our good friends, the 
college administrators who are constantly bedevilled by the anti- 
fraternity agitators but who get nothing but deep silence from us. 
No matter how good friends of the fraternities they may be, we 
cannot expect them to fight this battle for us alone forever. After all, 
why should they? . . . 

I, for one, will fight to the last ounce of my strength to defend the 
right the democratic right of any man or group of men to form 
a fraternity or other association with any membership restriction or 
qualification that they, in their absolute discretion, may see fit to 
impose: a fraternity of blacks for blacks, of whites for whites, of 
Jews for Jews, of Gentiles for Gentiles, of Catholics for Catholics, of 
Protestants for Protestants. 

Few NIG and other fraternity leaders sink either to Em- 
bury's unfair name-calling or to his open advocacy of self- 

At that 1947 NIC convention, undergraduates attempted 
to obtain support for a motion for the investigation of re- 
strictive constitutional clauses and for a request to member 


fraternities to eliminate categorical exclusions. They failed 
to get enough backing for the second provision to have it 
brought before the aluinni-dominated main conference; but 
the NIC did pass unanimously this resolution: 

That a Special Committee of the National Interfraternity Con- 
ference be formed to study the problems of membership restrictions 
and to give encouragement to the formation of new local fraternity 
groups to meet the variety of local campus needs as indicated by the 
college administrators. 

In 1948 the National Interfrateraity Conference again 
faced the issue, but it voted to wait for another year before 
taking a stand on the question of racial and religious dis- 
crimination. It decided to send to member nationals for 
their study and recommendation copies of this proposed 

The conference believes that a college fraternity, inasmuch as it 
has certain aspects of a social organization, has the right to select its 
own members from among the students in a university 7 or college 
free from any domination or pressure from the educational institution 
itself. Upon this principle the fraternity may, if it chooses, adopt 
restrictive rules for its own membership or refrain from adopting 
restrictions. The wisdom or desirability of social considerations affect- 
ing membership, including religious, racial or national qualifications, 
are thus the concern of the fraternity itself. 

The conference recognizes that in passing upon candidates pre- 
sented for admission to membership, in cases not governed by 
national restrictions or by custom or tradition binding upon the 
chapter, a chapter member may cast his vote upon discriminatory 
considerations. He may concede or refuse to concede to the opinions, 
or even the prejudices, of his fraternity brothers. That is his individual 
right. The weight to be given to conflicting considerations are for 
his individual decision. 

The conference, however, believes that the fraternity system will 
flourish better if the character and personality of the individual are 
regarded as paramount, rather than his race, color, religion or 

Even though the NIC is exclusively an alumni organiza- 
tion, with no provision for undergraduates to participate 


directly in policymaking, the undergraduates, as we have 
seen, do have a conference of sorts in connection with each 
national NIC convention. But it has little power to bring 
controversial undergraduate concerns to the attention of 
regular alumni NIC representatives. To illustrate, an alum- 
nus serving in 1949 as NIC chairman of the undergraduate 
conference spoke of that conference as being "permitted to 
deliberate, permitting the Undergraduates to be taught 
rather than to be urged." He recommended that the under- 
graduate conference be converted into "a leadership training 
school/* The proposed change was not adopted; but it sug- 
gests the degree to which the undergraduate conference is 
a controlled briefing session rather than an expressive repre- 
sentative assembly. 

Aware of this situation, a Northeastern Interfraternity 
Conference sent the 1949 NIC convention a resolution ask- 
ing that "discriminatory clauses in the organic kws of fra- 
ternities be repealed/' This was signed by interfraternity 
council representatives from Adelphi College, Amherst Col- 
lege, Bucknell University, Columbia University, Cornell 
University, Dartmouth College, Rensselaer Polytechnic In- 
stitute, Trinity College (Hartford), University of Massa- 
chusetts, University of New Hampshire, and University of 
Vermont. To be entertained, the motion had to be made 
and seconded by alumni NIC representatives. As placed 
formally before the NIC, this resolution asked the NIC to 
recommend "to all its member fraternities that they repeal 
and abolish any constitutional provisions, by-laws, statutes 
or rules, which they may have, which discriminate against 
any college student because of his religion, race, color, or 
creed/' On its first reading, this resolution was seconded, 
but on its second reading, it was lost for want of a second. 
In its place, the NIC adopted the following: 


That it is the sense of this Conference that (1) it recognizes that 
many member fraternities have had and now have no restrictive 
provisions; (2) it recognizes that the question is of concern to many 
interested parties; (3) it calls these facts to the attention of all 
member fraternities, appreciating that membership is an individual 
fraternity responsibility; (4) it recommends that member fraternities 
that do have selective membership provisions consider this question 
in the light of prevailing conditions and take such steps as they may 
elect to eliminate such selectivity provisions. 

This was much more than the NIC had ever before con- 
templated in this area. The resolution was adopted by a 
vote of 36 to 3, with 17 not voting. This action reflected 
student pressure and a fear that student action might 
become even more embarrassing. 

This student pressure on the National Interfraternity Con- 
ference in 1949 showed promise, but it did not continue. 
During a process of discussion and polling of member na- 
tionals in 1950-53, the NIC finally worked out a resolution 
of autonomy in membership selection, similar to the pro- 
posed one referred to member nationals by the 1948 NIC 
convention. It points an accusing finger at college adminis- 
trators by implication and certainly represents a retreat from 
the 1949 action. After some introductory remarks, this 1953 
NIC "Autonomy Pronouncement" sets forth these provi- 

That in the opinion of the National Interfraternity Conference, 
each member fraternity should have the right to adopt qualifications 
for membership applicable to all its chapters free from any inter- 
ference or restriction by any non-member. 

That any attempts to restrict or regulate the right of a fraternity 
to choose its own members from among students in good moral and 
scholastic standing in any college or university in which it has a 
chapter is an inadvisable interference with the democratic processes 
of self-government and with the fundamental principle of free associa- 

That in accordance with such principles the National Interfraternity 
Conference declares itself in favor of fraternity autonomy with respect 
to fraternity membership. 


An appended note defines "fraternity" as referring to "the 
national or international governing body of any charter- 
granting fraternal organization." The claim is thus for a 
grant of autonomy to alumni-dominated national governing 

At that 1953 NIC conference, Edward M. Brown of Beta 
Theta Pi offered the following amendment to the autonomy 

Nothing in this resolution is implied or intended to repeal the action 
of the conference at Washington in 1949. 

A vote to table this amendment carried and gave the impres- 
sion of wiping out the NIC's tiny step forward of 1949. 

As we showed in Chapter 1, the NIC executive commit- 
tee unsuccessfully attempted in 1954 to institute a "get- 
tough" policy toward colleges bringing pressure to bear on 
discriminatory fraternities. In September of that year, a 
group of fraternity representatives met at lie Edgewater 
Beach Hotel in Chicago to form what is known as the 
Edgewater Conference a hard core of resistance against 
the anti-discrimination movement. Although the National 
Inteifraternity Conference did not at its 1934 convention 
accept the get-tough proposal, it praised certain colleges 
where administration or trustees had refused to adopt stu- 
dent-approved policies against discrimination. The NIC 
commendations included the observation that such actions 
afford a promising basis for co-operation between alumni 
and college administrations. The NIC hailed the establish- 
ment on certain campuses of the principle of fraternity 
autonomy with respect to membership "free from college 

These 1954 developments contrast sharply with the respect 
for college policies implied in the 1938 joint statement of 
the NIC and the Association of American Colleges, discussed 
in Chapter 3, 


Fraternity alumni apparently believed by early 1955 that 
the worst of the storm that hit the 1949 NIC convention 
had passed. Undergraduates were again younger, and they 
included fewer of those annoying war veterans among their 
spokesmen. The alumni doubted, too, whether the majority 
of college administrators will follow the lead of their minor- 
ity in compelling changes in fraternity practices. 

Alumni frequently do not have a controlling vote in 
national fraternal conclaves, and yet they succeed in main- 
taining their conceptions of Aiyanism in membership selec- 
tion. How do they achieve this? How do they dominate 
national fraternity policymaking bodies and officials? It is 
not difficult. Here are some of the ways: 

(1) In comparison with undergraduates, alumni have 
staying power, knowledge, and identification with fraternity 
welfare. Whereas few students attend more than one na- 
tional convention as undergraduates, delegates from certain 
alumni clubs may attend one convention after another. Their 
grasp of fraternity law, precedent, and organization gives 
them power with which transient undergraduates can rarely 

(2) A majority of the alumni in a given fraternity may 
be opposed to the continuance of self-segregation. But these 
alumni seldom have the cohesiveness and interest to become 
perennial pillars of national conclaves. 

(3) Alumni favoring Aryanism obtain support from un- 
dergraduates who have a sentimental, uncritical, dependent, 
conformist attachment to the fraternity. A disproportionate 
number of such students attend national fraternity conven- 
tions, because the more independent and idealistic under- 
graduates find it difficult or useless to get elected as chapter 

(4) Alumni can offset undergraduate voting weight by 


depending upon constitutional provisions which frequently 
specify that a vote by two-thirds or even three-fourths of 
the delegates at more than one national (usually biennial) 
convention is necessary in order to change basic laws. Some 
fraternities even have documents or traditions specifically 
designated as unamendable and unchangeable. 

(5) Fraternity bureaucrats paid employees are alumni 
who seek to maintain inviolate the "ancient rights and cus- 
toms" of the fraternity. Their power, exercised chiefly 
through elected officials, is substantial. 

(6) Alumni scattered over the area from which a college 
draws students can assure strength to a chapter through 
aid in recruitment. The alumni most active in this regard 
are frequently ones who provide the more conservative and 
sentimental influences upon policymalang either directly 
or through voting for like-minded delegates. 

(7) Alumni clubs and alumni boards of trustees fre- 
quently hold title to chapter houses. They can implement 
national mandates either through "fatherly counsel" or 
through threats of eviction. Some colleges cater to fraternity 
alumni in order to assure the financial support of these or- 
ganized groups in building programs. 

(8) To undergraduates, alumni loom large for their pos- 
sible assistance in entering business, professional, or even 
political careers. Talk about the handicaps to a career from 
a reputation for double-making" has calmed the reformist 
zeal of many a fraternity undergraduate. Like his elders, he 
possibly soothes his conscience with the thought that the 
present moment is not the most auspicious time to fight for 
change; after all, he can tell himself, he will be able to work 
more effectively for change when he himself is an alumnus. 

Let us look at specific episodes that reveal the force of 
these controls. Certain national tactics of Pi Kappa Phi and 


Lambda Chi Alpha, as seen by their Cornell University chap- 
ters, illustrate some of these points. 

At its annual convention in September 1950, at Portland, 
Oregon, Pi Kappa Phi discussed pressures for the removal 
of the restrictive clause from its constitution. The danger 
of losing chapters on certain campuses and the inability 
to install new chapters on certain other campuses were out- 
standing considerations. The current national president of 
the fraternity, Howard Leake, tried to help with a "practi- 
cal" recommendation, a "compromise" that sought to ap- 
pease rather than to comply. He urged elimination of the 
constitutional clause to be followed by the insertion of 
a similar group-rejective procedure as a secret obligation in 
the initiation ritual. His "new" policy was eventually 

This action outraged the Cornell chapter. Cornell dele- 
gates expressed themselves strongly and suggested a real 
rather than a formal change. 

A report by the Cornell chapter of Lambda Chi Alpha to 
the campus interfraternity committee concerned with dis- 
criminatory clauses further illustrates the conflict between 
reactionary alumni and idealistic undergraduates. Made in 
1933, this report refers to the restrictive constitutional pro- 
vision of the national fraternity as limiting eligibility for 
membership to those "who are members of the Caucasian race 
who are of non-Semitic blood and believe in the principles 
of Christianity.'* The passage rejected those who have "one- 
eighth of proscribed blood." This is even more restrictive 
ffo.flTi Hitler's definition of the "Semite" in his infamous 
Nuremberg laws: his edicts applied only to those who had 
one-fourth or more of ancestry identifiable as Jewish. 

Lambda Chi undergraduates put the blame for the situa- 
tion on alumni who "are living in the pre-Civil War era as 
far as their ideas go." Chapter representatives told the 


campus interfratemity committee that the issue would even- 
tually be resolved by the removal of the national constitu- 
tional clause and the insertion of the identical mandate in 
the ritual. The students claimed that moral arguments for 
real freedom for chapters in membership selection had 
proved useless. Only evidence of <e being pressured by a 
college administration/' they claimed, would help. They 
admitted that real in contrast with merely verbal 
change would probably come only after the actual loss of 
chapters as a result of campus regulation concerning prac- 
tices rather than mere clauses. 

Lambda Chi Alpha's restrictive clause cost it its chapter 
at the University of Connecticut but as a result of formal 
compliance with the university edict, the chapter was rein- 

The Dartmouth Sigma Nu chapter publication of January 
1955 carries a report by one of its delegates to the 1954 
Sigma Nu national convention which illustrates specific tac- 
tical problems undergraduates face in fighting for change at 
such conclaves. Here are extracts from that report: 

Our principal concern at the convention was to rid our fraternity 
of its discriminatory clauses against Negroes and Orientals. 

We felt that in attempting to eliminate both clauses we would 
get nowhere at the present time, so we presented a resolution that 
our Oriental clause be abolished. It must be understood that our 
Oriental clause is a statute but that our Negro clause lies in a group 
of articles in the Constitution known as the Ancient Rights and 
Customs. High fraternity officials have declared these to be un- 

Debate on the Oriental clause raged throughout the morning and 
early afternoon of the Grand Session. We were getting considerable 
help from our New England chapters, who had formed a committee 
on discriminatory clauses at the New England convention in the 
previous spring, and from some mid-Western chapters. Ratiber than 
argue from the standpoint of expediency that we might have to drop 
out of the fraternity, we argued that the unity of Sigma Nu would be 
broken by loss of chapters due to our discriminatory clauses. 


The argument of unity had strong appeal and took effect until 
the chapters on the Pacific Coast entered into the debate in the 
afternoon and said their campus prestige would be seriously injured 
if an Oriental were taken into Sigma Xu. This swayed the tide 
against us. When a roll call was finally taken, we were defeated 
203-57. But this was a much stronger showing than in the convention 
two years earlier when a straw vote was taken after a short discussion. 

After the vote, another chapter presented a resolution which called 
for an unwritten clause. This received considerable more support 
because it was thought that such a change would help to appease 
college administrators. Moreover, both clauses could be reworded 
to include this. But this too was defeated. 

Because the Sigma Nu chapter at Dartmouth has a 1960 
campus deadline-for-democracy, the reporting delegate of- 
fered a summary of the convention situation and his analvsis 

* + 

of prospects for eventual national compliance: 

For the last four years we have been making definite but gradual 
progress against our clauses. As our cultural norms evolve, I think 
the clauses will go. We are trying hard to push the process, but at 
the present rate I do not feel this will occur by 1960. The officers of 
the national are worried about pressure on our chapters because 
of the clauses, and they are conducting studies on the seriousness of 
this pressure. But I do not feel that the clauses will go until some 
of the best chapters here in the East are forced to drop out Not 
until then will the national fraternity realize that it has called no one's 
bluff by delaying. Recent court decisions have been somewhat help- 
ful to us, and no doubt more are in the offing. The next national 
convention will be in two years, and only time will tell whether we 
can eliminate the clauses. 

With an eye on the 1960 deadline, he promised that "we 
will continue the fight as best we can until then." 

During a debate over self -segregation at a fraternity con- 
vention lines between undergraduates and alumni are 
crossed. For example, alumni of many chapters, particu- 
larly in the northeast, share the idealistic views of under- 
graduates, and sometimes they have representative delegates 
at national conventions. On the other hand, many southern 


undergraduate chapters find it expedient to go along with 
the most vocal alumni opinion in maintaining the status 

A Massachusetts Institute of Technology chapter which 
comes under a national restrictive clause summarized this 
blocking role of alumni chapters in a report to a campus 
interfraternity investigating committee: "Alumni chapters 
which have a vote at national conventions are in general 
very strong against removal. Their combined strength solidly 
in favor of retaining the clauses overweighs whatever under- 
graduate vote there is behind removal." 

In a number of fraternity constitutions, undergraduates 
are accorded the nominal power to establish at national 
conventions whatever policies they may think wise. But to 
achieve important changes, undergraduate chapters must 
frequently be almost unanimous in order to get the two- 
thirds or more of the votes necessary to override the votes 
of alumni clubs and national officers. In certain fraternities, 
even undergraduate unanimity would not be enough, 

In a real sense, therefore, national officers of fraternities;, 
their paid executives, and their like-minded local club offi- 
cers occupy the position of greatest influence in fraternity 

The apparent sectional diversity of fraternity opinion is 
not a universal condition, as we have seen. To give another 
illustration, Delta Chfs ten southern chapters (out of a total 
of forty-one) have strongly favored the elimination of its 
restrictive clause, while chapters in the midwest and far 
west have sought to retain restrictions. 

Alumni hold title to most chapter houses. Special cor- 
porations with alumni trustees, or similar arrangements, are 
usually instituted to own property for each chapter. These 
corporations arrange financing, mortgage principal and in- 
terest installments, insurance, and tax payments. The in- 


come from chapter members is usually enough to meet all 
such current obligations, and the undergraduates are thus 
not to any great extent beneficiaries of the alumni. Occa- 
sionally a wealthy alumnus does give substantial aid toward 

s * C 

buying a chapter house, but more often equity is built up 
over the years from current income paid by undergraduates 
and from gifts by their families. Mothers' clubs of chapter 
houses are generally more open-handed than alumni mem- 
bers. Nevertheless, the usual feeling of undergraduates is 
that alumni actually are in a position of control over their 
property, and they are legally justified in thinking so. 

Understandably, many alumni do not relish continuing 
responsibility for a chapter house especially a men's house, 
with its prospective ups and downs of peace and war as well 
as of economic change. Particularly as a result of World 
War II, therefore, more colleges are trying to stabilize 
fraternity living facilities under their more direct supervision 
and at the same time to inspire both alumni and parents to 
give generously to fraternity and college. President Henry 
Merritt Wriston of Brown University recognized this op- 
portunity in 1948 in these terms: 

A survey of our distinguished alumni revealed that a disproportion- 
ate number of those upon whom the fame of the University and 
its current strength depend were fraternity men. Alumni generally 
were proud of their fraternity affiliations. The fraternities, when 
not burdened by debt and when occupying attractive quarters, furnish 
a center for alumni reunions. They perform a useful service in tying 
the generations together, keeping the graduates and the student body 
in contact as no other agency can. Circumstances have been such 
that in only a few instances has that desirable end been achieved 
at Brown. The new project, by leaving the chapters debt-free in 
beautiful houses, should greatly stimulate and intensify this service 
of fraternities. 

Fraternity emphasis by a college is also a way to interest 
alumni of a fraternity who are not alumni of the college. 


Developments at Texas Christian University suggest po- 
tentialities apparently seen along such lines. 

This university had no fraternities or sororities from its 
foundation in 1873 until 1954. Recently the president and 
trustees undertook to study the experiences of other church- 
related colleges with both men's and women's fraternities. 
Inquiries sent to some seventy-five such institutions elicited 
fifty-one replies. Two opposed fraternities, and the rest gave 
reactions ranging from the equivocal to hearty enthusiasm. 
The trustees then approved the establishment of fraternities 
on the campus. A committee of trustees, faculty members, 
and a few students drew up a list of eight men's and eight 
women's national fraternities. All sixteen practice discrimi- 
nation along religious and racial lines, and many of them 
have flagrantly discriminatory clauses. The president of 
Texas Christian University invited these sixteen fraternities 
in behalf of the trustees to organize chapters on the campus. 

One of the men's fraternities invited was Sigma Chi. This 
fraternity's investigating officer for the alumni reported in 
the March 1955 Sigma Chi Bulletin how the local alumni 
of the eight men's fraternities took up the invitations to 
their nationals, as follows: 

The alumni of these eight fraternities entertained with a series of 
parties over a period of several days. Following this, the alumni 
groups each submitted a list of their preferences among the students 
and similarly the students listed three of the fraternities in order of 
preference. As a result 11 men were decided upon for the [local 
and temporary] Chi Sigma organization and these 11 subsequently 
chose four more, making their total membership at present 15. 

The University has set aside sufficient ground on the campus to 
build eight fraternity houses. 

The university plans to retain ownership of the land and 
possibly also of the buildings, and the houses are to be "of 
identical or very similar construction." 

Sigma Chi investigators, reporting in that issue of the 


Bulletin both on Texas Christian University and on Texas 
Technological College, Lubbock, a state agricultural and 
engineering school, did not specifically mention administra- 
tive attitudes toward restrictive clauses. They merely re- 
ported that "the administration of Texas Tech is wholly in 
accord with the fraternity system there and was responsible 
for the initiating of that system on the Tech campus/' As 
much was said concerning Texas Christian University. 

In making a similar report on Wisconsin's Ripon College, 
an undergraduate investigating officer gave more direct as- 
surance to the readers of that same Sigma Chi Bulletin: 

College officials informed me that fraternities and their national 
organizations will have a free hand in administering to the indi- 
vidual fraternity* The touchy membership clause dilemma will be 
left solely up to the national organization, 

College officials also told me that no pressure will be put on by 
the administration or board of trustees concerning national fraternity 
policy. The fraternity system is very close to the administration and 
the relationship between the Inteifraternity Council and the adminis- 
tration is the best in the school's history, according to Ripor/s dean of 

Two members of the board of trustees at Ripon College are Sigma 
Chis and are anxious to see Sigma Chi established at Ripon. 

Ripon in 1954 got its first national men's fraternities 
Theta Chi and Sigma Nu. Several of its five remaining men's 
locals and five women's locals are actively petitioning na- 
tionals. This activity is related to college building plans. 
Sigma Chi's alumnus investigating officer noted: 

The college is planning a new fraternity quadrangle to house all 
chapters on campus. Currently fraternities are housed two chapters 
to a house with each chapter occupying separate floors and having 
its individual lounge. While the new quadrangle will greatly improve 
living conditions of fraternities, the present system still provides a 
strong and wholesome fraternity life. 

More than four-fifths of all Ripon students 77 per cent of 
the men, 92 per cent of the women belong to fraternities. 


Ripon is more than a century old, has over five hundred 
students, and plans to expand. 

In criticizing active alumni for maintaining Aryanism, 
whether openly or underground, we do not intend to label 
them all as bigots. They are far from that. Alumni include 
many kinds of persons. The more active alumni present 
something of a paradox. They help with fund-raising and 
recruitment They aid in bringing to the local lodge both 
athletes and student-activity leaders (all with presumably 
good marks) plus 'legacies" (relatives of alumni). Often 
with enthusiastic undergraduate support, interested alumni 
proudly contribute their efforts to increasing the "batting 
average" of the whole national fraternity "team." In turn, 
higher national prestige is thought to add luster to local 
chapters and to individual members. 

An increasing concern for good public relations has led 
to a de-emphasis of hazing. "Hell Week," with its public 
and private hazings of initiates, in many places is now called 
"Help Week" under the stimulation of the National Inter- 
fraternity Conference and of many nationals. The accom- 
panying ordeals of initiates become, publicly at least, activi- 
ties useful to the community. 

At the University of Pittsburgh nine fraternities co-oper- 
ated in a 1955 "Help Week" program organized by the 
campus YMCA. The volunteer bureau of the city's Health 
and Welfare Federation furnished names of agencies that 
needed aid on projects ranging from spring housecleaning 
to painting and gardening. K Kappa Alpha pledges worked 
on bookshelves, bulletin boards, and signs for an office of 
the Visiting Nurses Association. Phi Delta Theta pledges 
became a cleaning detail for tie Industrial Home for 
Crippled Children. Other assignments were: Delta Sigma 
Phi, to Tremont Avenue Home for Children; Sigma Alpha 


Epsilon and Delta Tau Delta, to community houses; Sigma 
Chi, to Pennsylvania Association for the Blind; Lambda Chi 
Alpha, to Pittsburgh Home for Babies; Alpha Phi Alpha 
and Theta Chi, to other offices of the Visiting Nurses Associ- 

Alumni help raise modest scholarship funds to aid needy 
student members, and they often welcome the housing of 
foreign exchange students, even though some of these would 
otherwise not be eligible for lodging and certainly not for 

Sorority alumnae, through the national and local panhel- 
lenic associations and local clubs, do as much and more 
of a positive sort but ignore the problem of group-rejec- 
tion. The National Panhellenic Conference visualizes its 
roles as these: 

To maintain on a high plane fraternity life and interfraternity rela- 
tionships; to co-operate with college authorities in their effort to 
maintain high social and scholastic standards throughout the whole 
college, and to be a forum for the discussion of questions of interest 
to the college and fraternity world. 

Alumnae have done much to implement these purposes on 
campus after campus. 

Superficial compliance with college demands for the elim- 
ination of discriminatory clauses has now been achieved 
by a great many men's and by almost all women's fraterni- 
ties. Their officers therefore hope that emphasis on this 
issue will decline. At the same time, they realize that storm 
signals still fly, and they are troubled and confused. Some 
college educators have reached the conclusion, based upon 
abundant evidence, that national fraternity policies will not 
actually change until pressure is brought against discriminat- 
ing practices. The Dartmouth and Columbia policies dis- 
cussed in Chapter 4 are attempts to achieve real rather than 


simulated reform. They indicate one of the new directions 
we may now expect to see followed. 

A large metropolitan newspaper commented editorially 
in September 1954, speaking of a "depressing report on mid- 
dle-aged delinquency" concerning alumni maintenance of 
fraternity bigotry. The concept of "middle-aged delin- 
quency" is superficial and unfair. Neither democratic nor 
undemocratic fraternities could function well without alumni 
support. But alumni and alumnae today are often overpro- 
tective and unaware of the need of young Americans to face 
and break with the old tribal biases so that America may 
meet the challenge of world leadership. 

As we have seen, fraternity resistance to broader policies 
for membership selection springs from a complex of con- 
siderations in which the dominance of a handful of senti- 
mental alumni may frequently be crucial but it is not the 
sole factor* These same sentimental alumni are helpful to 
both locals and nationals in many other ways. 

In the next chapter, available and relevant psychological 
and sociological findings will be brought to bear upon aspects 
of our problem. This chapter will seek to analyze the social 
roles of active members, alumni, parents, and college ad- 
ministrators and to relate them to the life experiences of the 
active members. 


Schools for Prejudice? 

"The Panhellenic Association sincerely regrets . . ." 

She thought she might "make" a sorority. But this letter 
slams the door in her face. Now she has to be an "inde- 
pendent." For dates and parties, she must now live in the 
less-privileged part of her campus world. For many activi- 
ties, she is permanently disqualified. 

Good looks, popularity, a well-to-do family, and the 
"right" racial characteristics and religious label these are 
the factors that weigh most heavily in sorority rush weeks 
across the country. Men have equivalent criteria, with addi- 
tional emphasis on athletic prowess and social poise. 

Even for the student who gets pledged, rushing is a har- 
rowing experience. A social slip may cost a bid from a more 
desirable fraternity. Students tensely play for their second 
and a third choice of lodges in order not to be entirely de- 
pendent upon their first choice. In most houses it takes only 
one blackball to eliminate a candidate. 

What about the many students in the rejected categories? 
Some avoid being rushed. Some are not rushed. Concerning 
the others who think they are eligible, Life magazine, on 
December 17, 1945, furnished this typical account from the 
University of Wisconsin: 

The most terrible and nerve-racking moments of rush week come 
when the girls line up at Panhellenic office to learn whether they have 



been eliminated as prospective pledges. There are three successive 
eliminations. The final one takes place the morning after *Tast night" 
when the surviving rushees come back to "FanhelT for the last time. 
A Panhellenic official . . . starts handing out envelopes to young girls 
who smile bravely but reach for them with shaking hands. Some 
envelopes contain congratulatory notices informing a girl that she is 
now a sorority pledge, and those who receive them react with varying 
degrees of exultation. The others open their envelopes and through 
a mist of tears read the formal words, 'The Panhellenic Association 
sincerely regrets . . ." They rarely finish the note. It usually takes 
all of their remaining strength to move along out of the way' of the 
next girl in line. 

These moments in rush week are the chief target of the growing 
numbers of antisorority spokesmen. Currently the most lucid among 
them is the wife of the University of Wisconsin's late president, Glenn 
Frank, who has been expelled from Pi Beta Phi sorority for publishing 
her views that sororities' good is outweighed by their evil and that 
their social exclusiveness has in isolated cases even caused suicide. 
Opponents of the system point out that sororities have forgotten their 
original intent, which was to channel the human group instinct into 
useful purposes. They complain that sororities are not democratic, 
that girls are admitted because of social position, wealth aod family 
connections and are banned because of racial and religious prejudices. 
The defenders of sororities say that they encourage good scholastic 
standing and that without sororities college students would gather in 
even more exclusive and secret groups. They point out that snobbish 
cliques exist in women's colleges where sororities are barred. 

And thus some students are formally notified that they are 
"not wanted/* To cope with the problem would require 
attention to these questions: Are there enough men's and 
women's fraternities on the campus for all who might wish 
to join? Can we, in American educational institutions, per- 
mit our students to create and maintain powerful and snob- 
bish associations on the basis of racial, religious, or similar 
criteria? Can we overlook the possibilities for growth and 
social achievement of any segment of our campus popula- 

Many influential alumni are beseeching their younger 
brothers and sisters to be "realistic," "practical,** "unemo- 
tional," and to forget about such irrelevant matters as bias, 


because "dear old" Sigma Rho Theta or Kappa Kappa Theta 
is "more important" than "transient" issues of race and color. 

Certain worried college administrators are asking "if some 
members of the student body aren't riding their white horses 
a Ettle hard." Sometimes a dean even says this in print 
for instance, C. B. Crampton, dean of freshmen at Connecti- 
cut's Wesleyan University. Other college presidents and 
trustees proudly agree with their idealistic undergraduates 
that fraternities can be made free from bias. 

Increasing numbers of American college students are 
calling campus Aryanism "paradoxical/' ''hypocritical," a 
basic threat to democracy. At Wesleyan, the students wanted 
a "deadline for democracy" but not for six years ( 1961 ), and 
the administration wanted Wesleyan chapters to continue 
"sincere efforts" to influence national policies. 

In the words of the student government committee study- 
ing discriminatory practices in Wesleyan fraternities, "We 
view with shame the paradoxical situation presently existent 
at Wesleyan of a community explicitly dedicated to the 
principles of democracy and brotherhood which yet allows 
discriminatory practices to persist within its own area of 
jurisdiction." When the college administrators blocked a 
student referendum on the essential issue, the committee 
and other student-government leaders released a statement 
that "we are greatly disappointed, and in fact shocked." In 
response to the dean's query about riding "white horses," 
these student leaders said: 

This pressure-group action is inconsistent with the Administration's 
professed belief in student freedom and self-determination. 

[President Victor] Butterfield himself stated, "Wesleyan in attempt- 
ing to educate for leadership in a free society believes in giving 
undergraduates a good deal of freedom.** This inconsistency of word 
and action which has now stifled a free expression of student opinion 
is fo&cwed in die Administration's statements by inconsistency of 
thought and a failure to meet the real issues outlined in our original 


The Administration apparently does not see the distinction be- 
tween individual prejudice and compulsory discrimination. We can 
not and do not aim to do anything about the former, but we can 
correct the latter. In trying to rid the campus of forced discrimination 
we are not, as the Administration charges, in any way curtailing the 
individual's right to choose his own friends. Rather, we are greatly 
expanding this right by providing a wider range of selectees. 

The editorial board of the student Wesleyan Argus of 
March 1, 1955, added these pointed comments: 

Since the administration was opposed in principle to the commit- 
tee's work, it is probably just as well that they made their stand clear 
before the students bothered with the heat of such a vital referendum. 
The president's report to the trustees would undoubtedly have been 
similar to Colgate's. Unfavorable trustee action might have left the 
proponents even more frustrated than they are now, at the withdrawal 
of the most important part of the recommendations. . . . 

Finally, the "white horse" attack is certainly unfair to a group of 
mature and intelligent campus leaders who attempted to put their 
liberal arts training to use in the solving of a glaring social problem. 
This type of emotionalism is no more valid than would be a rash 
statement by the committee that any administration spokesman held 
different views, one public, one private, on the issue. Columbia, Dart- 
mouth, et flZ., found a more welcome response to their "white horse" 

Dean Crampton thus summarized his position: 

To ask the College Administration to force non-conforming frater- 
nities to withdraw from their National affiliations is the impatient 
demand of the reformer who sees all objects as either black or white 
and scorns those who would make haste slowly and thoughtfully. . . . 
I prefer to see evils like discrimination eliminated by thoughtful men, 
exercising the rights of free citizens. 

Why do undergraduates in these cases seem to be so much 
more concerned than their elders with implementing moral 
principles? Why do certain fraternity alumni and college 
deans advocate what might be considered a cynical or ex- 
pedient course of action while the same alumni and deans 
allege that fraternities and colleges are wholeheartedly 
dedicated to moral idealism? 


To understand these things, we must begin by under- 
standing ho\v children in Western culture first take a part in 
their complex society. 

As we start out in life, we become involved in relationships 
with individuals who serve us as symbols and samples and 
surrogates mother, father, brothers and sisters, playmates, 
parent-substitutes, and strangers. There are many subtleties 
and intricacies including individual and class variations 
in these evolving relationships. But it would be useful 
to present a brief summary, highlighting aspects of middle- 
class teen-age groups such as social fraternities. 

Social fraternities are most typically a phenomenon of the 
upper middle class, with some participation by students of 
the lower middle class who trust they are moving upward. 
In our relatively open class system, social fraternities have 
been assimilating many young men and women moving or 
trying to move to higher social status from lower-class back- 
grounds, as well as middle-class students of the second and 
third generation. 

The social differences between men ? s and women's fra- 
ternities go back to the time when girls realize that they 
are like their mothers and boys realize that they are not. 

The mother of the middle-class American boy becomes 
his ideal symbol of womanhood. He reacts to her and to 
other members of his family with ambivalence with both 
devotion and antagonism. The balance between devotion 
and antagonism depends partly upon the extent to which 
tensions and competitive straining (including his own grow- 
ing involvement in other groups) lead to discomfort and 
insecurity and to alternative satisfactions. In general, the 
higher the family is in its middle-class status, the more tense 
aad isolated the parents are likely to feel. They communi- 
cate their tensions and loneliness in many ways to their chil- 


dren, and the children are gradually caught up into the same 
anxious strainings. 

A boy's feelings about his mother and his sisters continue 
to color his reactions to other women in his life teachers, 
friends, dates, business associates, wife. His mother also 
becomes his archetype of society's moral surrogate, the pillar 
of society from whom he primarily learns the morality he 
takes to be typical of American society. 

The middle-class American boy normally identifies him- 
self with a preoccupied father who "goes along** with the 
mother in the inculcation of morality in the son. Even 
though the middle-class father is usually remote, he is 
scarcely that unattainable symbol that spokesman for the 
pure and the moral which the mother represents* By a 
series of obvious and subtle clues, the boy learns that his 
father was probably once a boy not too different from 
himself, and that male standards are something different 
from those he \iews as female-dictated morality. If he is not 
to become bogged down in the middle-class struggle, he 
therefore concludes either that he can do what his father has 
done and do it better or that he can find a much better 

For the middle-class American girl, these matters are 
rather different. Her father is the surrogate of society's 
morality and the unattainable beau ideal; but in his worldly 
preoccupations he is almost as remote from her as from her 
brother. As a result of studying a variety of clues, the girl 
sees her mother at best as a worn model to be emulated and 
with a little luck surpassed an advocate of practical moral- 
ity related to the inevitable job of being a woman. The girl 
associates more abstract morality not with her mother but 
with her father. His norms, as she sees them, are idealistic, 
vague, ritualistic, and seldom put into practice. 


Ideal maleness for the boy is related primarily to an in- 
distinct paternal model, oversized and worn, which com- 
petes too easily with the boy at odd and brief periods for 
maternal and family affection and status. The middle-class 
boy finds more specific and realistic patterns for maleness 
elsewhere. For the girl, on the other hand, femininity is 
demonstrated in a practical way by her mother during many 
hours of the day throughout many years. 

The girl is an apprentice woman in her home, an ap- 
prentice in the many, complex, and exacting roles of the 
modern middle-class wife and mother. But the boy serves 
his apprenticeship in many crucial aspects of maleness out- 
side of his home even in his play. The girl frequently 
plays at roles she has seen her mother actually perform, 
whereas the boy plays at Indian, cowboy, dive-bomber, 
Davy Crockett, Spaceman, and less often at roles drawn from 
persons in the community storekeeper, mailman, physi- 
cian, clergyman, athlete, actor. His father may or may not 
have exemplified one or more of these roles. 

This situation helps the girl's social maturity to keep pace 
with her more rapid biological development The girl 
adjusts more readily and completely to the social controls 
of the adult female community than her brother does to 
those either of the general community (as he sees it, his 
mother's ) or of his f athe/s community ( the world of affairs ) . 
Both are usually better equipped to enter the special com- 
munities of their sex within their class than to enter the 
general community visualized by parents acting as surro- 
gates or by their professional substitutes (particularly 
clergymen and teachers). And in their special communities, 
there is distrust for those who take morality too seriously, 
who "carry the torch," who are "riding white horses* 7 
who seem to be immature. 

Boys and girls get from their brothers and sisters a taste 


of the individualistic struggle for rewards and favors from 
above so characteristic of the straining middle class. Parents 
are ambivalent about this competition. Aware of the painful- 
ness of unrestrained rivalry, they expound society's moral 
idealizations concerning brotherly love and sisterly devotion. 
At the same time, they encourage their offspring to measure 
up to competitive standards of the community in eating, 
in bodily controls, in growth, in other social accomplish- 
ments. This contrast between moral idealizations and family 
mores is another of the child's many lessons in the multiplic- 
ity of norms to which he must adjust 

The significant persons in an individual's childhood be- 
come so engraved in his mind that they become his stock 
dramatis personae. Later the maturing child tends to fit 
even to force other people, as he perceives them, into 
similar roles and relationships. 

A boy's male playmates provide him with his most inti- 
mate opportunities to study the nature of maleness that 
curious alternative to the pervasive f emaleness of his home 
and community. His father only suggests certain ideal 
outlines of a remotely mature and probably obsolescent 
model of man. Gossip about evidences of the maleness of 
his father and other fathers and especially of older brothers 
is treasured, shared, and evaluated in boyhood play groups. 

Details of maleness fascinate the boy, and he has a great 
need to know them and to feel confidence in the validity of 
his knowledge. Among those equals who are loyal to the 
play group and not squealers, a boy can find out what it 
really means to be a boy, to be a boy among boys, and to 
grasp the knowledge and associations that make him a big 
boy and eventually a man. Here is a world separated by a 
comfortable social distance from the world of family and 
family-type rivalries under controls that are largely femin- 
ine. Here is a world that is more like the one into which his 


father disappears each morning. Depending upon the needs 
they feel and the threats of invasion cf their group from 
without, boys often at an early a^e find it desirable to 
reinforce their social isolation through club or patrol or gang 
organization, with pledges, ritual, insignia, 

In such a group of his peers, the boy builds his first tenta- 
tive bridges across the morass of male roles presumably open 
to him. He can prepare himself for the next steps toward 
maturity through exchanging and analyzing gossip about the 
behavior of older boys. He can dream dreams aloud concern- 
ing future exploits. He can experiment in a permissive at- 
mosphere with others who are also experimenting with roles, 
games, and projects taken from hearsay, tradition, television 
programs, and other available models. He can find out who 
he is in the eyes of others and who he may become. 

Because his family especially his mother typically 
suppresses aggressiveness and ignores sex, a boy's aggressive- 
ness and his interest in sex find expression at an early age 
chiefly in his play groups. Aggressiveness and sex become 
identified in his mind as the chief concerns of males in the 
world sometimes knowingly specified as "what it's all 
about" Moral ideals are all very well, but a man needs to 
keep them in their place; they could get out of hand and 
interfere with the intriguing games associated with force 
and sec* It is typically the more shut-in boy, the one less 
socialized in peer groups, the one more identified with a 
father-ideal, who becomes the entrepreneur of morality 
the teacher or clergyman. 

The girls peer group is not as different as the boy's from 
the family group of brothers and sisters. She also needs 
playmates among whom she can try out her mother's and 
other women's roles, and even men's roles that her mother 
might consider improper. As time goes on, she wants (as it 
5) to try her own feminine wings without being con- 


scious of warning maternal clucks. For all their competitive- 
ness and lack of dependability, for all their similarity to 
actual sisters, her playmates through the years offer her a 
degree of shelter and of social distance from maternal con- 
trols. The spirit of such groups is not as much in contrast 
with the home as is the spirit of the boy groups. In the 
girl groups, speculation centers around certain covert or 
possibly changing aspects of femaleness, and specifically 
around details of the intriguing struggle to "rate," at first 
among peers, but before long in the eyes of males. A girFs 
goals are much more set and real than a boy's. 

To a child, those who are not parents, brothers, sisters, or 
playmates are members of two nebulous groups the 
strangers and the parent-substitutes. Until they are taught 
otherwise, children regard all child strangers as subjects of 
curiosity and all adults as actual or potential parent-substi- 
tutes neighbors, relatives, teachers, clergymen, trades- 
men. Parents frequently take pains, early in a child's life, 
to install built-in criteria for acceptable playmates and par- 
ent-substitutes. It is in this process that parents often give 
their children prejudices against people different in race, 
religion, and ethnic background from themselves; they all 
too seldom try to teach more adequate personal criteria, 
These biases then become translated in play, in competition, 
and in fights into mandatory patterns of thought and action. 

Women copied fraternity forms from men. They prob- 
ably coveted the men's relative independence. It is dear, 
however, that sororities fulfill rather different functions than 
men's fraternities do. Their social elements replace rather 
different childhood archetypes. A sorority house is more 
accurately the equivalent of a "home* filled with "sisters"; 
the earlier prototype of a men's fraternity would be rather a 
fishing camp or a kids' shack in a vacant lot As Chapter 2 
notes, a men's house frequently has about it something of 


the air of a home from which the parents are temporarily 
absent and are not yet expected back and in which the sons 
and their friends have taken over. On the other hand, a 
women's lodge is more like a home in which the daughters 
have replaced their mother in control In either case, the 
presence of "housemothers" is part of the price members 
pay for their relative autonomy. 

In fraternity circles, the term brother is traditional. But in 
American middle-class groups, fraternity members are prob- 
ably more co-operative, less competitive among themselves, 
than actual brothers. In spite of formalities of house and 
ritual, the members are basically in an informal gang-like 
relationship, which would be uncommon among brothers in 
die typical middle-class family. 

Middle-class boys learn early that they have to accept 
certain kinds of pretense and certain kinds of control in 
order to have also the more enjoyable aspects of certain 
formalized activities in their peer groups. The horseplay in 
and around churches before and after Sunday school or 
church service, the less formal and uncontrolled aspects of 
Boy Scout affairs and outings, and the spontaneous cele- 
brations and even vandalism in connection with athletic 
victories are treasured aspects of middle-class boyhood. For 
these the boys pay by wearing dean clothes, taking part in 
formal activities under adult dominance, and entering into 
family-type competitions for status. 

Middle-class girls learn a similar lesson concerning pre- 
tense and control, its superficial acceptance and its practical 
avoidance but in connection with more subtle female 
activities. In this, too, they frequently have the benefit of 
specific adult examples, 

We have referred to our society's multiplicity of norms 
to the contrasts between morality and the mooes of van- 


ous groups. It will be useful to characterize this difference 
more clearly. 

Morals are the conventions of society which tradition and 
hallowed usa^e associate with the welfare of society. Thev 

-' * T 

appear to be dogmatic and universal in application, as in the 
Ten Commandments and the Bill of Rights. But in fact 
their key symbols are omnibus in character, subject to a 
range of interpretations. 

Morals are generalities concerning right wrong, duties, 
rights, and taboos on matters important to human society, 
handed down through many generations and frequently 
formalized in codes of ethics. These typically contain ele- 
ments of asceticism, humanitarianism, and formalism or 
ritualism. They permeate the statements of exponents of 
society's welfare parents, clergy, teachers, government 
spokesmen even though they are frequently at odds with 
the group mores of such specialists and of the groups served 
by them: u Do as I say, not as I do/* Morals represent 
crystallizations of a society's traditional aspirations and 
assurances of human rights. 

Morals are chiefly significant (a) in shaping the con- 
sciences of the young and thus the core of the consciences 
which function throughout life; (b) in defining the fagades 
of institutions and the formal roles of such institutional func- 
tionaries as mothers, fathers, clergymen, physicians, labor 
leaders, scientists, teachers, businessmen, government office- 
holders; and (c) in providing the main staples for propa- 
gandists terms for glittering generalities and name-call- 
ing, of righteous justification and condemnation. 

Such disciplines as theology, ethics, and traditional but 
nonscientific "social science" frequently are devoted to ra- 
tionalizing differences between morals and mores. In a 
complex society, the construction of acceptable rationaliza- 
of this sort becomes a crucial activity. Sometimes it is 


highly controversial, and sometimes it is quite profitable. 

Members of a society view morals as the broad major 
premises of discussion and action. Popular spokesmen base 
statements upon them in order to cause as many people as 
possible to say: "Just what I was thinking," or "Jusi what 
we really ought to do/' But at any given time and place the 
spokesmen must be selective because, like all categorical 
mandates, morals have the built-in handicap of being rela- 
tively inflexible and of thus conflicting with special interests. 
Under such circumstances, casuistry is at a premium. In- 
creasing mass literacy, greater popular alertness, and efforts 
by legislators and pressure groups have, of course, given new 
force to the promises in such documents as the Bill of Rights 
and subsequent civil-rights Amendments to the United 
States Constitution. 

As a person matures in our society, he learns that a moral 
pattern is a part of society's ritual and that it has a special 
relation to his behavior. He must adhere to the letter of 
the morals only in a formal sense or in formal circumstances. 
For other situations, he learns a whole series of rationaliza- 
tions for avoiding or mitigating the stringency of the morals. 
What a popular leader or clergyman says is typically con- 
sidered to be part of society's ritualism and hence it is to 
be discounted as moral, religious, academic, or legalistic 
when compared or contrasted with the more compelling 
interests of the group or individual. 

In contrast with society's morals, group mores are popular 
generalizations more currently related to actual behavior. 
They are patterns of behavior recognized as typical of a 
given group. Mores is now a popular as well as a sociological 
term for habitual patterns or folkways to which customary 
usage has given a judgment of welfare or necessity. The 
mores are practical, expedient, and compelling. They bring 


the force of group compulsion to bear upon those who are 
at the time functioning as group members. 

Contrasts between mores and morals are measures of what 
is popularly considered to be the hypocrisy, delinquency, or 
pretentiousness of the group. Mores and other folkways 
are so inclusive that an adult member of a number of groups 
(in the course of his life-history) finds himself equipped to 
cope with most problems of social relationships in terms of 
the patterns of appropriate groups rather than in terms of 
moral or more rational criteria. 

The process of "becoming mature" in a society frequently 
means that a person has accommodated his moral conscience 
to the requirements of group mores and of his personal senti- 
ments, desires, and needs. If he is familiar with group mores, 
he Tcnows the ropes," is "savvy," "acts his age," understands 
"how these things are done," is not "difficult," does not 
"raise issues," "fits in so well/' knows that "it doesn't matter 
much what you do so long as you get away with it," and 
that "people have to be practical." 

Behind the cultural f agade of a social fraternity or of a 
college itself lie the practical and expedient understand- 
ings and techniques, the customary ways of exercising 
power, of cutting corners on moral considerations, of hand- 
ling aggressiveness, of satisfying sexual urges, of exploiting 
submissiveness, and of making the best of opportunities in 
public relations. 

The mores are largely unrecorded, and they pass on to 
new group members by example and by word of mouth. 
The mores define roles rather precisely and, for a given 
time and place, rather rigidly. An individualistic research 
physicist or attorney or clergyman or professor may com- 
plain to himself and his wife about what he "has to do"; 
but he will usually conform to the mores of his profession if 
he wishes to "get ahead" and, on crucial matters (unless he 


has the talent of an Albert Einstein), even if he wishes to 
remain in the profession at all, Clashes between the "practi- 
cal men of affairs" and the "professors" can be partly inter- 
preted by showing that in these cases the former are more 
thoroughly influenced by mores while the latter are attempt- 
ing to serve publicly in the role of moral surrogates of 

Only in avowed trade schools under industrial and pro- 
fessional domination those of engineering, business ad- 
ministration, law, journalism, and medicine do idealistic 
societal expectations (i.e., morals) give way to professional 
group mores during the formal training procedures. Medical 
professors note that, with few exceptions, only their younger 
students concern themselves with critical analyses of the 
private practice of medicine as a social service. There was a 
time when "morals-oriented" English and sociology professors 
had to be supplemented by "mores-oriented" journalism and 
social-work professors, so that universities could produce 
more "practical" (more trade-conscious, less social-con- 
scious) newspaper reporters and social workers. But that 
was before sociology departments started to turn from a 
preoccupation with broad human and moral interests to con- 
cern with the problems of personnel managers, marketers, 
political manipulators, and realtors. Now academic idealism 
is where you find it. 

The antipathy of the "practical man" toward liberal 
education, whether admitted or disguised, is frequently con- 
sidered to be anti-intellectualism. It is actually an "anti- 
morals** bias otherwise stated as *Tm a big boy now; I 
know the score." This establishes one as a safe-and-sane, 
level-headed person, one who will not recall embarrassing 
moral mandates or "squeal on the boys" in short a good 
gang member with qualities at any age reminiscent of a 
loyal boyhood playmate. 


As we mature in our middle-class groups with their 
multiplicity of norms each a function of society or of 
a group or class or sex within society we take on a multi- 
valence toward morals and mores, toward various roles, and 
toward other aspects of social behavior. \Ve behave in ac- 
cordance with the demands of each of various groups and 
situations., with little awareness of the contradictions be- 
tween the moral and the various moretic mandates of such 
groups and situations. 

Adolescents, anxiously facing the need to make the most 
basic and far-reaching personal decisions of their lives, try 
to seize and build upon the stable elements in themselves, 
their life-histories, and their environments. Their concep- 
tions of adult institutions such as church, college, and gov- 
ernment are not those of insiders, assimilated and sophisti- 
cated. Adolescents are still outsiders, who have been ex- 
posed largely to the moral definitions of those institutions. 
Their play groups have given them some introduction to 
the contrast between morals and mores. The adolescent 
years bring more detailed awareness to the intelligent and 
sensitive, more detailed adjustment to the others. As Lincoln 
Steffens said in his Autobiography (1931), it is in adoles- 
cence that some learn that one adult institution after another 
is not 

. . . what my father, my teachers, and the grown-ups thought; it wasn't 
even what my histories and the other hooks said. . , . Nothing was 
what it was supposed to be. I remember how I suffered; I wanted, 
I needed, to adjust the difference between what was and what 
seemed to be. 

How simple it would be if morals and mores could coin- 
cide! But in our society as in all known societies this 
is not the case. A society with only one set of norms would 
be one in which all the members belonged to a single group, 
performed the same roles, had the same share in social 


control, possessed the same talents. Regardless of the dis- 
advantages of our present society, a reasonably sane person 
would scarcely wish to live in such a monolithic state. 

The years of the anxious adolescent quest for bases for 
decision the years also of the reluctant acceptance of 
painful realities are a time of acute suffering for a great 
many young men and women. As they try to work through 
their troubling uncertainties, they may turn to such self- 
flattering courses as Aryanism. On the other hand, they may 
turn their energies to constructive uses. Youth can force 
adults to "make good" on society's promises. Out of this 
urge come some of the most useful contributions from young 
people to social welfare. 

In the realm of morals, young people are strongly tempted 
to be inspired chiefly by the parent of the opposite sex. They 
are also strongly tempted to fall back into the immaturity 
and cruelty typical of early play groups. The choices they 
make are in the aggregate fateful for the future of our 
society. On the degree to which we permit those decisions 
to be moral and idealistic depends whether young people 
will seek alternative gang-like activities. 

Not all college social fraternities, of course, are the same. 
In the scramble of membership selection, certain lodges 
may choose academic conformists, or party boys and party 
girls, or athletes, or the clever and creative or the left- 
overs. Some may specialize in one or another kind of per- 
sonality. But even if a few students are taken in chiefly to 
maintain average grades and campus prestige, gang-like 
considerations underlie many selections for membership and 
help make social fraternities the successors to boys* gangs 
and to girls* bunches. It is from an understanding of this 
typical group character that biased group-rejection can be 
assessed as having or not having a future. 


Student leaders often agree with the moral preachments 
of their elders on intergroup tolerance and understanding. 
Where problems arise, as at Wesleyan University and at so 
many other places we have mentioned, young people do not 
accept the adult contention that it is inadvisable to translate 
morality into behavior. This "naive unreasonableness" of 
youth often promotes humanitarian moral principles in spite 
of overprotectiveness on the part of insecure adults. 

Incidentally, most of the examples we have given of de- 
partures from biased principles are in nationals, chapters, 
and colleges with relatively high and entrenched social 
status. Nationals hesitate to discipline their most successful 
chapters for violating restrictive regulations, and certain "ivy 
league" colleges have instituted notable fraternity reforms. 
This is not to say that all high-status fraternities and colleges 
have moved in this direction. 

In trying to x:ope with the complex challenges and uncer- 
tainties of upper-middle-class American life, young men and 
women find their quest for detailed definitions of their roles 
best satisfied in friendly groups of their own age. These may 
be social fraternities. It is widely thought that social fra- 
ternities are necessarily schools for prejudice. But the 
assumption underlying this book is that, in the case of wisely 
organized social fraternities, they can be schools for demo- 
cratic living. To save the positive values of social fraternities 
for future generations of undergraduates, we must permit 
and encourage reorganization to proceed rapidly much 
more rapidly than in the past 

Voluntary groups as such do not, of course, need to be 
damagingly tribalistic. They satisfy any of a great many 
human needs that can be met in a group. Fraternities offer 
chiefly (a) a retreat or refuge from campus parent-substi- 
tutes and from the harsh criteria and rivalries of the campus; 
( b ) a collective source of aid in coping with such parent-sub- 


stitutes, the professors, and their campus system; (c) a per- 
missive, independent place and association in which to 
experiment with social roles; and (d^ a way to be rated by 
one's fellows and to rate them, a way to obtain and to accord 
to others a recognizable campus identity. If the fraternity 
system is inclusive or the campus provides satisfactory al- 
ternatives for all students, and if individuals are rated for 
their personal traits and not in terms merely of group labels, 
many students will find social fraternities of great value. 

College fraternities are presumably more mature play 
groups. They can figure importantly in dating and mating 
as well as in selection of careers and sometimes in providing 
career opportunities. For career purposes, interreligious and 
interracial association in a fraternity is excellent preparation 
for life in a mixed society and a mixed world. But in dating 
and mating sorority members as well as alumnae and parents 
show grave concern about complicating the rating system 
by the inclusion of individuals from racial and religious 
groups other than their own. An insecure young man or 
woman may be very anxious to have a precise brand mark 

To judge from available reports of campus experience, 
interreligious and interracial membership in established fra- 
ternities has apparently not altered the marriageability of 
their male or female members. Intergroup membership 
in a fraternity does not of course necessarily lead to inter- 
marriage. But if any young man or woman wants to marry 
a person quite different from his parental model, he is likely 
to do so regardless of the controls exercised by parents or 
by voluntary groups. 

Stripped of harmful tribalism, the college social fraternity 
would not be a school for prejudice. It would rather be a 
fulfillment of its own ideals a way to prepare young men 
and women for mature participation in the business and 
social life of a democracy. 


The Case for Real Fraternities 

Through more than thirteen decades, students and their 
social fraternities have changed constantly; and today they 
are as much in flux as ever before. Not only have fraternities 
changed, but they have begun to include a variety of experi- 
ments in what may become the next prevalent patterns. As 
we have seen, these emerging types include fraternities 
that are no longer schools for prejudice but rather schools 
for mature participation in democratic society. 

Studies at Princeton University in 1932 and 1950 sug- 
gest what is happening to student attitudes toward minority 
groups. In 1932, Professors Daniel Katz and K. W. Braly 
gave one hundred students a list of eighty-four attributes or 
trait names and of ten ethnic groups; they asked the students 
to check the five trait names "most applicable" to each 
ethnic group. The trait names ran alphabetically from 
aggressive, alert, and ambitious to unreliable, very religious, 
and wttty. 

For many years, the results of the Katz-Braly study were 
cited in the literature on social psychology "as an example of 
the extent to which even college students subscribe to the 
stereotypes and prejudices current in our culture." Then 
in 1950 Professor G. M. Gilbert repeated the study, with 333 
members of a new generation of students who had been born 



about 1932. His results were significantly different. With 
about the same kind of students in his sample, Gilbert's 
principal conclusion was that: 

... the present generation of college students is more reluctant 
than the previous generation to make stereotyped generalizations 
about the character of ethnic groups, especially those with whom 
they have had little contact Some students regard it as almost an 
insult to their intelligence to be required to make such generalizations, 
while others do so with considerable reservations. This is clear in 
spite of the fact that some of the stereotypes (like Negro and Jew) 
persist to a fair degree while others (like German and Japanese) have 
changed in a negative direction as a result of recent hostilities. With 
these exceptions, there is less ethnocentric bias and uncritical generali- 
zation in group characterization by the educated American "majority 
group." There is evidence of far more "cultural reality-testing." When 
characteristics are ascribed to ethnic groups as frequently as they were 
20 years ago, or even more so, there is often some conceivable validity 
on 'the basis of cultural characteristics or national character (e.g., 
German nationalism, English conservatism, American materialism). 
The general conclusion might be drawn that college students today 
make fewer generalizations about ethnic character, but those they 
do make tend to be based more on cultural and historical realities and 
less on fictitious caricatures or the prejudices of their parents. 

Even though these Princeton students of 1932 and 1950 
were scarcely cross sections of America or even of American 
students, there is significance in this decline in stereotyping 
in a highly privileged group likely to hold important posi- 
tions after graduation. The trend probably reflects the in* 
crease in the teaching of social science and the decline in 
stereotyping in our entertainment and communications 
media. As Professor Gordon W. Allport of Harvard com- 
ments, "Whatever the reason, it seems to be a fact that the 
'pictures in our heads* of ethnic and national groups are 
today less uniform and less cocksure than they were in 
former years." 

The case for more democratic fraternities presented in 
this book is based on grounds that are basically moral but 


not related to specific church organizations. Every college 
campus now has religious groups. These include Jewish 
Hillel foundations, Roman Catholic Newman clubs, student 
YMCA's and YWCA's, and clubs of individual Protestant 
denominations. These organizations sometimes have their 
own buildings though usually less pretentious facilities. 
But they differ sharply from social fraternities in several 
crucial respects. Although they sponsor social events, their 
chief concerns are religious and not, as in the case of social 
fraternities, social. Religious clubs are inclusive in member- 
ship rather than selective. They are not autonomous de- 
fensive and offensive alliances of students; they are branches 
of adult institutions under adult sponsorship and control 
They fulfill useful functions; but they are not the permis- 
sive, experimental rating media that fraternities have typic- 
ally become. 

Both students and administrators consider religious or- 
ganizations to be in a different category from social fraterni- 
ties. This is evident in terms both of student participation 
and of campus regulation. If fraternities were to take 
on denominational ties in a serious manner, their nature 
would change. They would perforce find themselves with 
obligations to religious authority which are now not evident. 
They would become less autonomous, more dependent. 

Denominational clubs keep students in touch with their 
churches. Their chaplains act as nonacademic counselors 
for those who feel the need. Their religious centers and 
programs give continuity and a sense of security to those 
who might otherwise feel lost in a new, strange, and chal- 
lenging world far from habitual home ties. 

The early social fraternities of the 1820's were, as we saw 
in Chapter 2, mostly secret societies based on the Masonic 
pattern. Under the veil of secrecy and mysticism and with 
the advantage of compact organization, fraternities in the 


1820*s and 1830's sought to gain campus influence. They 
were said to have rigged elections and to have gained prom- 
inence and honors for their members even at college com- 
mencements for reasons other than merit. As a reaction 
against this shadowy influence, student antisecret societies 
were formed to combat or offset fraternity influence the 
Equitable Society formed at Williams in 1834, the Equitable 
Union of Union College dating from 1837, and the Social 
Fraternity established in 1847 at Hamilton College. In 1847 
some of these societies formed the Antiseeret Confederation, 
the precursor of what in 1864 took the name of Delta Upsilon 
and became a leading non-secret fraternity. 

Another consequence of the antisecrecy drives during the 
early development of college social fraternities linked 
with the contemporary agitation against the Freemasons 
was more emphasis upon the religious sanctions in their 
membership bonds. Driven into a shadowland and some- 
times underground by state antifraternity legislation and 
adverse college policies, fraternities attempted to give ex- 
pression to their idealism in terms of Christian ethics. As 
the previous chapter points out, one manner of defense and 
aggression available to young people in their relations with 
the adult world is to demonstrate, at least to themselves, 
that they are more moral than their elders. Thus, primarily 
in their initiation ceremonies, fraternities refined and ele- 
vated their claims to religious sanctions. 

Although many fraternities before the Civil War called 
themselves Christian societies, with their members com- 
mitted to Christian beliefs, they did not discriminate against 
non-Christians in selecting members. As we have seen, the 
great majority of college students were then likely to be 
white Protestants. Only later did the ineligibiliiy of non- 
Christians emerge as an allegedly fundamental part of the 
conception of the Christian fraternity as an allegedly homo- 


geneous religious unit. When it did emerge, it was almost 
always linked with racial discrimination. 
If fraternities were motivated bv religious considerations 

r O 

alone in their definition of membership qualifications, they 
would have to follow the nonracial criteria explicit in Chris- 
tian ethics as interpreted in the leading theologies. Actually 
many fraternities now bar only those socially labeled as non- 
whites even if they are Christians. Fraternity restrictions 
are basically a racial matter, complicated by Aryan nonsense 
and by confused religious rationalizations. 

The interpretation of Christian ideals by the Kappa Alpha 
Order, organized in 1865, indicates how nonrestrictive these 
can be. In its constitution and ritual, this fraternity specifies 
that its aims, purposes, and ceremonies are Christian. In 
discussing whom to pledge, its national president stated in 
1952 ,that "only those who can understand and know and 
use the significance of Christianity can enjoy Kappa Alpha/' 
Yet membership in this fraternity is not limited to Christians 
even though it neglects to initiate non-white Christians. 

In order to practice exclusion on an allegedly religious 
basis, fraternities have found it necessary to restate mem- 
bership criteria or to reinterpret them in ways apparently 
inconsistent with their original tenets. Because of pressure 
from the State University of New York, for example, Kappa 
Delta Bho removed its constitutional clause restricting mem- 
bership; but it devised a modified ritual which requires 
affirmation of adherence to Christianity. The national also 
retained the power to refuse membership to the candidates 
of any chapter. When the national refused to grant it per- 
mission to initiate five of its pledges, the State University 
chapter at Albany withdrew and reorganized as a local under 
the name of Alpha Pi Alpha. 

Ritual committees in fraternities are thus able to reinstate 
and even to institute restrictions without the formality of 


intrafraternity discussion or constitutional change. The 
secret character of rituals and the ease with which they may 
be "clarified" encourage their use as subterfuges. Basic 
Christian ethical values of neighborliness and brotherhood 
are not only lost but actually perverted. Even though some 
colleges have extended their concern for fraternity restric- 
tions to an examination of rituals, few campus policies have 
effectively reached such undercover measures. But, as we 
have seen, the State University of New York met such 
subterfuges as that of Kappa Delta Rho and various tactics 
of Sigma Tau Gamma and other nationals with a deadline 
for the elimination of all nationals from its campuses, 

Talk about sectarian religious problems has not figured 
prominently in campus discussions of discrimination and anti- 
bias rules. It has evidently been clear to students and admin- 
istrators that religious restrictions as such are not the major 
obstacle. For example, the University of Minnesota took 
the position that the religious requirements of two lodges 
there (Phi Kappa and Acacia) are not exclusionary in pur- 
pose. The university group listing discriminatory fraternities 
held that both are tied for religious reasons to sectarian 
purposes and principles. 

College policies against formal discrimination are not 
confined in most cases to Greek-letter societies; they fre- 
quently include all student membership organizations, 
whether they are social groups or professional, recognition, 
or honor societies. But at Columbia University, as we saw in 
Chapter 4, religious organizations are specifically exempted. 
Although similar religious exemptions are not always speci- 
fied on other campuses, it is usually clear that regulatory pro- 
visions are limited to nonreligious organizations. 

Just how difficult is the problem of integration of diverse 
groups into college fraternities? In 1914, the formation 


of Alpha Phi Delta as a nonsectarian fraternity for men of 
Italian descent reflected one of the extremes to which group- 
rejection has gone. The anti-Greek attitudes of certain other 
Greek-letter social fraternities have been mentioned. Roman 
Catholics have tended to segregate themselves and to be 
barred in some measure from Protestant fraternities or sub- 
jected to quotas. But the groups most consistently rejected 
are the Jews and the Negroes. 

Viewed statistically these minorities are relatively small 
groups. At institutions outside of New York City, Jewish 
students comprise about 5 per cent of the total American col- 
lege population. Their share in the student population 
varies in different sections from as much as 10 per cent in 
the Northeast to 5 per cent in the Midwest, 4 per cent in 
the Far West, and less than 2 per cent elsewhere. At other 
than Negro colleges, the Negro group is much smaller 
less than 1 per cent at most fraternity colleges. Cornell Uni- 
versity, for example, with an enrollment of more than five 
thousand undergraduates, usually has only about fifteen 
Negro students. 

A large number of Negro students avoid fraternity col- 
leges where they feel that their social life would be handi- 
capped. The practical exclusion of Negroes, not in college 
admissions, but in college society admissions, is an unwhole- 
some situation for American educational institutions. In 
discussing this issue, Howard Whitman noted in Cottiers 
(Januarys, 1949): 

In a bull session of fraternity men at the University of Wisconsin, 
I beard a towheaded lad jump up and cry, "To hell with this talk 
of democratization! They've got their own fraternities!** 

I had heard that phrase often. When I tried it out on Wilbert 
Whitsett, president of Alpha Phi Alpha, a Negro fraternity, at tibe 
University of Pittsburgh, he replied, "If we are not permitted to 
join other fraternities, we must form a fraternity of our own. We have 
no other choice." . . . 


A member of a Jewish fraternity remarked, "The pattern of segrega- 
tion is fixed by the so-called white Caucasian fraternities. We simply 
have to fit into it/* He smiled wearily. "Nobody really likes to five 
in a ghetto. But sometimes you have to." 

In spite of integrative tendencies, so-called "J 
"Christian" fraternities may maintain some differentiation 
in membership for many years to come. But even partial 
integration, \vith expanding student horizons through new 
types of social relationships, will have a marked effect upon 
lie attitudes of college youth and through them of many 
other groups in the general population. It is significant that 
high prestige fraternities lead the way in integrating minor- 
ity group members. Studies at the University of Michigan 
concerning attitudes of fraternity members indicate that 
those who have friendly contact with members of other 
ethnic, religious, and racial groups develop more tolerant 
attitudes. Similar conclusions arise from studies of the De- 
troit race riots of 1943 and many other investigations. The 
change indicated in the Princeton research reports summar- 
ized earlier in this chapter can thus become a great and 
rising democratic tide in American life. 

College admissions quotas based upon race and religion 
have now virtually disappeared from principal American 
college campuses. As a result, the discriminatory behavior 
of student societies toward such groups as Jews and Negroes 
becomes an embarrassing college concern. The problem 
narrows down to whether the college or the national fra- 
ternity is going to establish the chapter's criteria for mem- 
bership selection. Students are tempted to be democratic, 
to be idealistic when they are permitted. At many insti- 
tutions, the administration requires a certain scholarship 
average as a condition for fraternity membership. Any rea- 
sonable condition for membership particularly if it is in 
line with fundamental democratic and educational principles 


clearly lies within the responsibility and authority of 
the college, whether public or private. 

Most college administrators would, of course, agree that 
the congeniality essential to fraternity membership cannot 
be established by fiat. Congeniality is something that grows 
up among individuals for individual reasons not as the 
packaged congeniality so many national fraternities try to 
impose with their self-segregative procedures. In reaching 
campus-wide decisions, college administrators do well to 
discuss policymaking with their student body. Admin- 
istrators and students can jointly outline a policy they wish 
to see adopted in order to carry out objectives that non- 
college forces would block. 

In opposition to the responsible search by college adminis- 
trators and students for change, national fraternities have 
asked why the campus should become an environment so 
different from that outside the college community. Dis- 
crimination on the basis of race, religion, or ethnic back- 
ground exists in many completely independent community 
organizations. The government is limited in its concern with 
discrimination to manifestations that have a public charac- 
ter, even though the institution or place involved is privately 
controlled and operated; thus a state or any of its subdivisions 
may bar discrimination in employment, education, and recre- 
ation when carried out by commercial as well as by govern- 
ment agencies. However, a purely social group, without any 
benefits from the state, cannot be required to make its facili- 
ties or membership available to all on any particular basis. 
Private associations, particularly social societies and groups, 
whether national or local, have been free to establish ar- 
bitrary criteria for membership. In the case of national 
associations, they can use these criteria as conditions for the 
continued existence of any of their local branches. 

In view of such practices and legal precedents outside of 


colleges, why should colleges attempt to set up and be able 
to establish brotherhood standards different from those 
prevalent in the general community? The answer lies of 
course in the basically moral function of the college. Ad- 
vanced educational institutions are dedicated to minimizing 
tribalistic prejudices. One of the striking conclusions from 
studies of prejudice is the high correlation between the 
amount of education and the absence of prejudice against 
persons for reasons of group membership. 

Colleges should not be narrow technical schools but places 
where the horizons of mankind are expanded and where 
reason and observation and experimentation can take the 
place of passion and prejudice. The existence of an organiza- 
tion that permeates a major portion of a student's experi- 
ences with an Aryan philosophy is hardly consistent with 
the total educational philosophy of an American college. 
President Charles Woolsey Cole of Amherst College has 

Institutions of learning ought to pick and choose the best parts of 
our culture, not the worst. College students ought to set the pace. 
If they make enough headway with the democratic idea, the country 
clubs and the business clubs will come along later. 

A remaining question is whether the trend away from bias 
shoud be permitted to evolve entirely on the terms of the 
national fraternities, without coercion from colleges or stu- 
dent bodies. This procedure would, of course, be desirable 
if it showed promise of achievement. However, the past 
decade has demonstrated an intransigence on the part of 
the nationals that offers little encouragement. Even when 
change has been required by college mandate, the lifting 
of barriers by nationals has often been more delusory than 

There is thus no precise and simple blueprint either for 
integrated campus social life or for the steps by which it 


may be achieved. Available data indicate that the goal of 
integration is not only desirable but possible. Eric Johnson, 
a member of Theta Delta Chi, points to the urgency of that 
goal when he says: 

Our fraternities must be democratized. Were competing with 
another ideology in this world, and the competition is likely to go on 
for a long time. We've got to show them, and the rest of 'the world, 
that "democracy" is more than a word over here. We've got to live 
democracy, not just talk democracy. 

A graduating senior of Bowdoin College, G. Curtis Webber, 
2d, urged in his commencement address, June 18, 1955: 

To cling to the outmoded concepts of racial superiority is to endorse 
sterile conservatism, which has no place on a campus where young 
mens minds are to be trained in an atmosphere where freedom 
of thinking is encouraged. 

In the democratizing of fraternities, many procedures can 
be useful. The first of these, the elimination of formal clauses, 
is now being achieved. Eldon H. Reiley, chairman of a 
nation-wide conference of deans and students at Massa- 
chusetts Institute of Technology in March 1955, summed the 
matter up: 

Perhaps the most significant aspect of the M.I.T. conference was 
the near unanimous agreement by the delegates that written restrictive 
clauses in college organizations are unwarranted discriminatory prac- 
tices and that from a long range viewpoint the removal of these 
clauses would be a step forward and is probably the first step to be 
taken in meeting discrimination in colleges. At no time were the old 
arguments that written clauses protect an individual's right to choose 
his own friends seriously advanced. If the M.LT. conference is any 
indication of the national feeling, this once popular argument would 
seem to have succumbed to stronger logic. 

Other helpful procedures are campus "deadlines for de- 
mocracy," first to eliminate restrictive clauses and then to 
eliminate restrictive practices; integrated rushing; possible 
one-hundred-per-cent membership in fraternities for all 


eligible students; the de-emphasis of conspicuous differences 
among fraternity facilities; and many others discussed or 
suggested in this book. 

The introduction of real brotherhood into fraternities has 
begun on some campuses. The process should be permitted 
to spread to more and more campuses. American college 
students more than ever before see the challenge of world 
leadership and wish to be equipped intellectually and emo- 
tionally to accept it. They realize that organizations on 
college campuses must not be reminiscent of those in totali- 
tarian nations. These organizations must be American and 
therefore democratic. 

Bibliographical Notes 

References for quotations and facts are given here to supplement 
those in the text. To avoid the use of numbers, references are here 
labeled by the principal name or term in the discussion; and they 
appear in the order in which they are taken up in the text. 

The bibliographies list works found helpful in the preparation of 
this book which readers might also wish to consult. The abbreviation 
"NIC" refers here, as in the text, to the National Interfraternity Con- 
ference. The abbreviation **NCFE" refers to the National Committee 
on Fraternities in Education. 

General Bibliography 

Gordon W. AHport, The Nature of Prejudice (Boston: Beacon Press, 

Harold J. Baily, ed., Bair&s Manual of American College Fraternities, 

15th ed. (Menasha, Wis.: George Banta Publishing Co., 1949), 

esp. general articles on men's and women's social fraternities, pp. 

3-81, 319-326. 
Banta*& Greek Exchange (Menasha, Wis.: George Banta Publishing 

Co.). Periodical. 

Fraternity Month (St. Paul, Minn.: Leland Publishers). Periodical. 
IBAC: Interfraternity Research and Advisory Council (Attleboro, 

Mass.). Brief news bulletins. 
NIC, Minutes, Year Books, Reports (tide varies), 1909-1954, esp. 


National Panhellenic Conference, Reports, etc., esp. from 1947. 
Gerhart Saenger, The Social Psychology of Prejudice (New York: 

Harper, 1953). 

Chapter 1 

Reference Notes 

Ptn DELTA THETA. ~The Williams and Amherst Cases," PaUadium 
of Phi Delta Theta, Special Issue (October 1953, 6 pp.). Also subse- 
quent information furnished by members. 



L. G. BALFOUR. Magazine of Sigma Chi, 73: 4 (Oct 1954) : 18, 20. 

DAVID A. EMBURY. "Report of Chairman," pp. 116-126, in NIC, 
Thirty-lSinth Annud Session, Not?. 28-29, 1947, Hotel Commodore, 
New Yorfc, pp. 124-125 quoted. 

BALFOOT. Op. cit. 

NIC EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE. Quoted by James C. Logan in The 
Teke, Nov. 1954. 

Research and Advisory Council (Atfleboro), No. 48 (Dec. 14, 1954), 
p. 2. 

H. M. WHISTON. Quoted by Benjamin Fine, "Brown Plan Eases 
Fraternity Rifts," New York Times, Dec. 10, 1951. 

ELMO ROPER. "Where the People Stand," mimeo. transcription of 
Dec. 18, 1949, broadcast, Columbia Broadcasting System (12 pp.). 

Locis FOUSY. "Discrimination: A Candid Appraisal," Sigma Chi 
Bulletin, 67: 2 (May 1954) : 14, 16, p. 16 quoted. 

Background Bibliography 

"College Fraternities," Life, 28: 6 (Feb. 6, 1950): 86-96, 98, 

"College Sororities," Life, 19: 25 (Dec. 17, 1945): 97-105. 

Mary Love Collins, "Democracy, the Issue," Banta's Greek Exchange, 
23 (1935): 221-224. 

Nelson Antrim Crawford, "Nobility of the Campus," American Mer- 
cury, 21 (1930): 184-192. 

George V. Denny, Jr., "How Social Minded Is the Social Fraternity?** 
pp. 33-54 in NIC, Year Book: 1938. 

Morris Kaplan, "Rumblings in the Fraternities,*' New York Times 
Magazine, Jan. 23, 1949, pp. 17, 24-26. 

Edwin J. Lukas and Lawrence Bloomgarden, "Is Fraternity Bias De- 
creasing?" New Leader, 36: 20 (May 18, 1953): 6-8. 

Simon Marcson, ed., "A Symposium on Segregation and Integration 
in College Fraternities,'' Social Problems, 2 (1954-55): 129-175. 

Carey McWilliams, "Equality or Fraternities? The Role of Secret 
Societies in Democratic Education,'* Commentary, 5 (1948): 407- 

Dean S. Newhouse, "Are Fraternities Democratic?'* Banta*$ Greek 
Exchange, 29 (1941): 367-368, 370. 

Irve Tunnick, "The Battle of Fraternity Row," 25 pp. mimeo,, April 
5, 1955, broadcast, No. 1 in series, The People Take the Lead," 
National Broadcasting Company. Electric transcription available 
from American Jewish Committee, 386 Fourth Avenue, New York 
16, N.Y. 

H. P. Van Dusen, "Fraternities and Church Colleges," Christian Cen- 
tury* 70 (1953): 1018-1019. Discussion, ibid., 70 (1953): 1084, 


1170. See also "Church Colleges and the Fraternity Racial Bar," 

ibid., 70 (1953) : 709, and "Free Association in Fraternities,'* i&id., 

71 (1954): 196. 
Howard Whitman. "College Fraternity Crisis," Colliers, 123: 2 (Jan. 

8, 1949): 9, and 123: 3 (Jan. 15, 1949): 34-35. 
Carl R. Woodward, "Self-Determination in Fraternity Membership," 

Fraternity Month, April 1954, pp. 17-18. 

Chapter 2 

Reference Notes 

N. P. GIST. "Fraternal Membership Policies and Minority Groups: 
The Case of Missouri University," Social Problems, 2 (1954-55): 
165-172, p. 171 quoted. 

PHI Mu DELTA. Alice Burke, "Univ. of N. H. Fails to Act on Probe 
of Societies' "Bias,'" Boston Traveler, May 27, 1949. 

ALPHA. Xi DELTA. A. P. story, Kingston, R. I., in New York Times, 
June 8, 1951. See also "Sorority Fight: Vermont Chapter Stirs Nation- 
wide Controversy by Admitting a Negro," Life, 20:20 (May 20, 1946) : 
31-32, 34. 

W. G. SUMNER, A. G. KELLER. The Science of Society (New 
Haven: Yale University Press, 1927), voL 1, p. 525. See also Hutton 
Webster, Primitive Secret Societies, rev. ed. (New York: MacmiHan, 

J. F. STEINER. "Recreation and Leisure Time Activities," chap. 18 
in President's Research Committee on Social Trends, Recent Social 
Trends in the United States (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1933), p. 936 

N. P. GIST. Secret Societies: A Cultural Study of FraternaUsm in the 
United States (Columbia: University of Missouri Studies, 1940), 
p. 43. 

KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS. Biennial Report, Supreme Lodge, Knights of 
Pythias, Aug. 1940, p. 12. 

Pm KAPPA. BamTs Manual, pp. 207-208. 

Pi LAMBDA Pin. Ba*rs Manual, p. 238. 

Ku KLOT KLAN. John Moffatt MeckKn, The Ku Kktx Klan: A Study 
of the American Mind (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1924). Max 
Sylvius Handman, *Ku Khix Klan/* Encyclopaedia of the Social 
Sciences, 8 (1932): 606-609. 

AHYANISM. M. F. Ashley Montagu, Man's Most Dangerous Myth: 
The Fallacy of Race, 3rd ed. (New York: Harper, 1952), esp. chap. 1. 


PHI DELTA THETA. "The Williams and Amherst Cases," Palladium 
of Phi Delta Tlieta, Special Issue (October 1953), p. 2. 

FRATERNITY BIAS (1928). Unpublished research memorandum pre- 
pared for NIC, 1928, 

W. H. P. FAUNCE. American Jewish Tear Book: 1928, 31 (1929): 

ALPHA SIGMA PHI, ALPHA SIGMA Psi. Special MS. report Cor- 
respondence with W. Storrs Lee, dean of men, Middlebury College. 

F. H. GIDDINGS. The Scientific Study of Society (Chapel Hill: 
University of North Carolina Press, 1924), esp. pp. 30-36. 

WILLIAMS PHI DELTA THETA. Fern Marja, "Frat Loses Its 'Aryan- 
ism' With a Smile," New York Post, Feb. 12, 1953. 

AMHEBST COLLEGE, Pm KAPPA Psi. Alfred S. Romer, The Color 
Line in Fraternities (pamphlet, reprinted in amplified form from 
Atlantic Monthly, June 1949, Community Relations Service, 386 
Fourth Avenue, New York 16, N. Y.). See also Morris Kaplan, "Rum- 
blings in the Fraternities," New York Times Magazine, Jan. 23, 1949, 
pp. 17, 24-26; New York Times, Nov. 7, 9, 13, 24, 27, 29, 1948; Jan. 9, 
1949; New York Herald Tribune, Nov. 13, 14, 15 (editorial), 16 (ed.), 
21, 29, SO (ed.), 1948; Cleveland Plain Dealer, Nov. 8, 1948; Phila- 
delphia Inquirer, Nov. 16 (ed.), 1948; Boston Herald, Nov. 20 (ed.), 
1948; Boston Traveler, Dec, 1 (ed.), 1948. Arthur Davenport, secre- 
tary, House Management Committee, Amherst College, letter, Sept. 24, 

C. W. McCnACKEN. MS. letter. See also Allegheny Undergraduate 
Council Citizenship Committee Report, An Inquiry Into Segregation 
(Meadville, Pa., April 17, 1955), 8 pp. 

UPSALA COLLEGE. New York Post, March 14, 1947; New York 
Times, March 22, 1947. 

Background Bibliography 

Frank H. Hanldns, "Masonry," Encyclopaedia of the Social Sciences, 
10 (1933): 177-184. 

M. M. Johnson, The Beginnings of Freemasonry tn America (New 
York: 1924). 

Albert G. Mackey, Encyclopaedia of Freemasonry and Kindred 
Sciences, ed. by R, I. Clegg, rev. ed. (Chicago: 1929), 2 vols. 

Nathan Miller, "Secret Societies," Encyclopaedia of the Social Sci- 
ences, IS (1934): 621-623. 

Samuel E. Morison, Three Centuries of Harvard, 1636-1936 (Cam- 
bridge: Harvard University Press, 1936). 

Arthur Preuss, compiler, A Dictionary of Secret and Other Societies 
(St Louis: B. Herder, 1924). 


Alfred Bobbins, English-Speaking Freemasonry (London: Benn, 
1930) . 

Henry D. Sheldon, Student Life and Customs (New York: Appleton, 

William A. Shimer, ed., Phi Beta Kappa Directory, 1776-1941 (New 
York: United Chapters of Phi Beta Kappa, 1941). 

Oscar M. Voorhees, The History of Phi Beta Kappa (New York: 
Crown Publishers, 1945). 

Nesta H. Webster, Secret Societies and Subversive Movements (Lon- 
don: Boswell Printing and Publishing Co., 1924) . 

Histories of almost all principal men's and women's national fra- 
ternities are available. Some of these run to more than one volume. 

Chapter 3 

Reference Notes 

NIC STATEMENTS. BoxrcFs Manual, pp. 75-81. 

Pi LAMBDA Pm. BaircCs Manual, p. 238. 

(pamphlet, no date). The American Commoner (periodical, four 
times yearly). Miscellaneous leaflets. 

BETA SIGMA TAXI. Howard Whitman, "The College Fraternity 
Crisis," Cottier's, 128: 3 (Jan. 15, 1949): 34-35. 

TAU KAPPA EPSTLON. The Teke (periodical, four times yearly). 

ALPHA SIGMA Psi. MS. report. Also Robert Williams, Hftiis Fra- 
ternity Laughs at Bias," New York Post, May 29, 1949. 

PHI ALPHA Psi. Alfred S. Romer, The Color Line in Fraternities 
(pamphlet, reprinted in amplified form from Atlantic Monthly, June 
1949, Community Relations Service, New York). 

F. H. GIDDINGS. The Scientific Study of Society (Chapel Hill: Uni- 
versity of North Carolina Press, 1924), esp. pp. 30-36. 

CORNELL UNIVERSITY. MS. reports of Interfratemity Council and 
of individual chapters. 

AMHERST COLLEGE. New York Herald Tribune, Nov. 14, 1948. 
See reference in Chapter 2. MS. reports. 

ROMER. See Phi Alpha Psi reference above. 

PRINCETON. Dean A. Allen, "History of the Undergraduate Social 
Clubs at Princeton," Social Problems, 2 (1954-55): 160-165. Bairfo 
Manual, pp. 927-928. 

WOODROW WILSON, "What Is a College For?" pp. 160-177 in his 
College and State (New York: Harper, 1925), vol. 2, pp. 17S-174 

D. A. ALLEN. Op. ctt., pp. 163, 164. 


Background Bibliography 

Histories of the national fraternities, colleges, and universities men- 
tioned are available, 

Chapter 4 

Reference Notes 

Certain developments described in this chapter are necessarily from 
confidential sources. Undergraduate and alumni members of men's 
and women's fraternities co-operated with the NCFE by making this 
information, available. Also useful were miscellaneous ephemeral ma- 
terials on fife in the office of the NCFE. 

ELMO ROPES. "Where the People Stand," mimeo. transcription of 
Dec. 18, 1949, broadcast, Columbia Broadcasting System (12 pp.). 

UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA. Interfraternity Council, With Under- 
standing Among All Peoples (pamphlet, 1951). E. G. Williamson and 
B J. Boareson, "Learning to Resolve Social Conflicts," Educational 
Record, Jan. 1950 (pamphlet reprint). The Minnesota Story" 
(mimeo., 6 pp., 1949). Mimeo. reports of Panhellenic Association, 
Jnterfraternity Council, and Senate Committee on Student Affairs, 
University of Minnesota. Correspondence with E. G. Williamson, 
dean of students and professor of psychology. 

CORNELL UNTVEHSITY. MS. reports of Interfraternity Council and 
affiliated chapters. Mimeo. reports of Student-Faculty Committee 
on Discrimination. Walter A. Snickenberger, assistant to the presi- 
dent, Cornell University, wrote May 13, 1954: "The question of racial 
and religious membership restrictions in our student social organiza- 
tions IKS not yet required any sort of action on the part of the Uni- 
versity administration. The matter has been recently under some 
study by our Student Council however." 

DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. Dartmouth Interfraternity Council, "A 
Bdef History of the Work to Eliminate Fraternity Discriminatory 
Clauses at Dartmouth* (photo-offset, 6 pp.). Correspondence with 

Eugene Hotchkiss, assistant to dean of coflege. Miscellaneous mimeo. 

JNIVERSTTY OF VERMONT. New York Times, Feb. 20, 1955. Cor- 
respondence with Carl W. Borgmann, president, and Robert H. 
Eoepsch, dean of administration. Miscellaneous mimeo. reports. 

enmiended Fair Educational Practices Code, USNSA" (mimeo., 
8 pp.), esp. pp. 5-6. 


W. S. CARLSON. Statement issued in Newsletter, State University 
of New York, Oct. 19, 1953. 

SYRACUSE UNIVERSITY. Correspondence with Frank Kskor, vice 
president, student services. Miscellaneous mimeo. reports. 



E. E. DAY. Statement in Albert S. Bard, Only a Boys Word 
(pamphlet, 11 pp., 1953), p. 9. 

A. G. RUTHVEN. Statement in ibid,, p. 10. 

C. B. WOODWARD, "Sett-Determination in Fraternity Membership," 
Fraternity Month, April 1954, pp. 17-18, p. 18 quoted. This paper 
was given before the 1953 National Interfraternity Conference, 

UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Correspondence with Thomas A. Brady, 
vice president in charge of extra divisional educational activities. 
Quotation is from his letter of May 3, 1954. 

las F. Miner, director, division of student personnel and welfare. 

Excerpts follow from selected additional letters written to the 
NCFE by educational officials whose institutions are not dealing 
directly with racial, ethnic, and religious discrimination in college 
social fraternities: 

(1) Iowa State CoUege (Ames). M. D. Helser, dean of the junior 
college and director of personnel, May 10, 1954: "We have taken 
no official action regarding student government on racial and re- 
ligious membership restrictions in our fraternities, but all except 
two or three of our fraternities have removed restriction clauses. The 
others will do so as soon as the national organizations will permit. 
We permit our fraternities and sororities to select anyone for pledging 
and membership that they wish to select. 7 * 

(2) Kansas State CoUege (Manhattan). Paul M. Young, acting 
dean of students, May 13, 1954: "I am not aware of any action which 
has either been taken or contemplated by the administration or stu- 
dent government at Kansas State College on racial and religious 
membership restrictions in sorority and fraternity organizations,'* 

(3) Peransyhxtnia Stofe University. W. E. Kenworthy, director of 
student affairs, May 4, 1954: "We have regulations which prohibit 
discriminatory clauses in the constitutions of honorary and profes- 
sional fraternities, but we have no legislation on social fraternities," 

(4) Purdue University. Roger J. Fritz, adviser to fraternities, May 
17, 1954: "I can tell you that the social fraternities at Purdue have 
been dealing with this problem individually at the national level. No 
action on the part of tie students or the faculty has been evident" 


(5) State University of Iowa. L. Dale Faunce, dean of students, 
June 4, 1954: "To date this question has not been raised at the Uni- 
versity of Iowa and I believe I may safely say that the problem has 
not presented itself, at least not officially." 

(6) Stanford University. Frederic 6. Glover, assistant to the presi- 
dent, May 5, 1954: "I have no knowledge of any official action being 
taken by any of our fraternities, or by the University." Sororities 
ceased to exist at Stanford in 1944, according to Bairtfs Manual, pp. 

(7) University of Arizona. Richard A. Harvill, president, June 1, 
1954: "The University of Arizona does not have any particular prob- 
lem with respect to membership selection practices of the fraternities 
and sororities. These groups here on the campus follow the general 
pattern of the national organization in each case. I have never heard 
of any specific issue arising in connection with the matter. , , . The 
University has not attempted to impose its own policies upon the 
fraternities with respect to selection of membership.'* 

(8) University of Buffalo. Jack M. Deeringer, office of dean of 
students, May 10, 1954: "... we are only now in the process of giving 
serious study to some of the points outlined in your brochure/' 

(9) University of Illinois. Lloyd Morey, president, June 28, 1954: 
The attitude of the University of Illinois with respect to the ques- 
tion you raise is that we hope national fraternities by a process of 
education will eliminate racial and religious restrictions from their 
constitutions and by-laws. We believe that this should be left to the 
national fraternities and that, given a reasonable period of time, they 
can handle the matter better than through a forced situation." 

(10) University of Miami (Coral Gables, Florida). H. Franklin 
Williams, vice president, June 17, 1954, said his university "had no 
real contribution to make to the digest which you are preparing." 

(11) Untoersity of Oregon. Donald M. DuShane, director of stu- 
dent affairs, June 22, 1954: **. . . we have no information that would 
be helpful to you in your projected compilation." 

(12) University of Pennsylvania. George B. Peters, dean of men, 
May 11, 1954: "At the present time the matter of racial and religious 
membership restrictions in our student organizations is under study." 

(13) University of Utah. Willard W. Blaesser, dean of students 
and professor of educational psychology, May 15, 1954: "Neither the 
University administration nor student government has taken any steps 
to date in regard to racial and religious membership restrictions. 1 ' 

(14) Western Reserve University. Russell A. Griffin, dean of stu- 
dents, June 3, 1954: "As our interracial interreligious relationships 
have been quite satisfactory, the question of membership restrictions 


in fraternities has not been raised on this campus, nor do I anticipate 
that it will be raised unless the climate changes markedly." 

(15) Yale University. Harold B. Whiteman, Jr., dean, office of 
undergraduate affairs, May 10, 1954: "Within recent date, to the best 
of my knowledge, no formal action has been considered or taken on 
racial and religious fraternity membership restrictions by the college 
administration. We have no student government" 

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Correspondence with George A. Pet- 
titt, assistant to the president, Berkeley, and Byron H. Atkinson, acting 
dean of students, Los Angeles. 

UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON (Seattle). Correspondence with Rob- 
ert G. Waldo, counselor of men. Miscellaneous special reports. Quo- 
tations from his letter of July 9, 1954. 

Excerpts follow from selected additional letters written to the 
NCFE by educational officials whose institutions have policies to some 
extent similar to those of the University of California and the Uni- 
versity of Washington: 

(1) Adelphi College. Curtis H. Moore, director of student person- 
nel and dean of men, June 10, 1954: "Adelphi College has shown no 
discrimination to race or creed. This applies to its total college pro- 
gram its admissions and faculty appointments. The College has had 
National Women's Sororities for many years, and has found no dif- 
ficulty in pledging and admitting students from the student body. 
The men's groups organized local fraternities during 1947-48 and are 
at present continuing as local fraternities. The individual constitu- 
tions of these local men's fraternities and the constitution of the 
men's Interfraternity Council specifically state that there will be no 
discrimination in the admission of students to fraternities. ... It 
would appear, therefore, that no action regarding nondiscrimination 
need be taken here at Adelphi College since our point of view is very 
open and very clear.** 

(2) Alfred University (Alfred, N. Y.) M. Ellis Drake, president, 
June 21, 1954: **It may be of interest to you to know that when two 
national fraternity groups during the past two years sought permis- 
sion to establish chapters on the Alfred University campus our faculties 
refused permission on the basis that they both had discriminatory 
clauses in their constitutions with respect to membership. On the 
other hand, a national fraternity without such restrictive policies was 
permitted to establish a chapter at Alfred. The administration and 
faculties of Alfred University are opposed to discrimination on the 
part of fraternity groups in the selection of members and are com- 
mitted to the elimination of such practices on our campus." 


(3) Boston University. John F. McKenzie, dean of men, May 
18, 1954: "The Boston University administration and student gov- 
ernment have taken no action on racial and religious restrictions. 
However, the all-University student governing organization has ap- 
pointed a Discrimination Investigating Committee to study discrimi- 
nation in University student organizations. As yet, no concrete de- 
velopments have been forthcoming." 

(4) Bowdoin College. Nathaniel C. Kendrick, dean, May 5, 1954: 
**The policy of the Administration has been to encourage the chapters 
of national fraternities here to work for the elimination of restrictive 
clauses where they exist, but not to set any obligatory deadlines. It 
has also been stated that we would permit no national fraternities, not 
currently represented at Bowdoin, to establish themselves at the Col- 
lege if they had discriminatory practices or provisions." 

(5) Drake University (Des Moines, Iowa). Robert B. Kamm, dean 
of students, June 15, 1954: **We have discriminatory clauses in the 
constitutions of most of our social fraternities and sororities. I think, 
however, that it is not the wish of the University at this time to 
legislate in the matter. We believe that the pattern on the Drake 
campus has been and continues to be one of positively moving toward 
free and equal opportunity for all. We favor such, and we favor a 
program of education, in the achievement of such. We believe 
that the continued opportunities for all students to share and to work 
together in G& other areas and activities of the University will be in- 
strumental in eliminating discriminatory clauses." 

(6) Indiana University. R. L. Shoemaker, dean of students, June 
1, 1954: "Several years ago Indiana University established the policy 
tftaf no new student organization which restricted its membership by 
excluding any racial or religious group would be recognized on this 
campus. This policy has been followed since that time, and to my 
knowledge, there is no contemplated change." 

(7) Massachusetts Institute of Technology. E. Francis Bowditch, 
dean of students, July 2, 1954: "During the academic year 1952-53 the 
matter of discrimination in fraternities came up before our student 
government and was debated at great length. A special investigating 
committee was appointed. The end result of this was the passing of 
a resolution by student government to the general effect that no new 
student organization of any kind would be approved if it had dis- 
criminatory clauses in its charter or constitution, and that all fra- 
ternities whose national organizations frflfl restrictive clauses were 
urged to actively participate in getting these clauses changed.** 

(8) Michigan State College. Tom King, dean of students, May 11, 
1954: "Both our Student Governing Group and our Interfraternity 
Council have gone on record as being against racial or religious re- 


strictions for membership in any campus organization including fra- 
ternities and sororities. As you wefl know, these things develop 
slowly and we have had no test yet that would tell us how this is 
working. We believe, however, that our young people are sincere in 
their desire to eliminate all restrictions/* 

(9) Stoarthmore College. Joseph B. Shane, vice president, June SO, 
1954: "A year ago the joint Alumni-Student Interfraternity Council 
passed the following resolution which was sent to the national officers 
of the fraternities represented on the Swartitunore campus. 'Resolved 
that the Alumni and Undergraduate Interfraternity Councils agree to 
support all efforts of the local fraternity chapters to obtain appropri- 
ate modification of the provisions of their respective constitutions and 
the practices of their National Fraternities which require discrimina- 
tion against religious or racial groups and which prevent local chapters 
from adopting their own rules and practices with respect to admission 
to membership/ " (The six women's fraternities were disbanded in 
1935; Shane refers to men's fraternities.) 

(10) University of Michigan. William S. Zennan, assistant to the 
dean of students, June 1, 1954: "The present policy which you asked 
about at the University of Michigan is this: 'Recognition or permis- 
sion to reactivate will not be granted a group which prohibits mem- 
bership in the organization because of race, religion, or color. Excep- 
tion will be made for a fraternity or sorority which is forced to suspend 
chapter activities because of mobilization for war/ . * . I believe that 
all fraternity clauses should be eliminated but along with this state- 
ment, I very firmly believe that I do not want to see any kind of 
compatibility achieved in the United States by legislation which we 
have noted in connection with fraternal groups." 

(11) University of Ehode Island. Carl R. Woodward, president, 
July 2, 1954: "The Board of Trustees and the administration of the 
University of Rhode Island have taken no action that would prohibit 
selective membership or force compliance on any fraternity which has 
a chapter here. Rather we have encouraged the removal of restric- 
tive clauses and have endeavored to cultivate a liberal, tolerant spirit 
on the campus. The barriers are rapidly waning, and we feel we are 
mating satisfactory progress.** 

(12) University of Rochester. H. Pearce Atkins, dean of men, 
September 2, 1954: Tn 1949, the Board of Trustees of the University 
of Rochester voted that no new local or national fraternity practicing 
discrimination would be recognized on the Rochester Campus. Those 
groups which are affiliated with national organizations having dis- 
criminatory clauses have been informally urged to work toward the 
elimination of these clauses in the national constitutions. The oldest 
of oar local fraternities has been of considerable assistance in setting 


an example by pledging orientals and negroes and students of all 
faiths and, at the same time, maintaining such an excellent standing 
on campus as to have the respect of the chapters with national affilia- 
tion. Two new local fraternities, recently recognized, are following 
that same pattern." 

UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA. See reference above. 

US-JTVERSTTY OF COLORADO. Correspondence with Clifford Houston, 
dean of students and director, summer session, and with Rod Ham- 
mon, commissioner of student organizations and social life, Associated 
Students of the University of Colorado. Also mimeo. statements and 
communications. New York Times, June 26, 1954. 

SYRACUSE UNIVERSITY. Correspondence with Frank Piskor, vice 
president, student services. Miscellaneous mimeo. reports. 

BROWN UNIVERSITY. V. H. Whitney, "Fraternities at Brown Uni- 
versity," Social Problems, 2 (1954-55): 153-159, p. 156 quoted. 

SWARTHMORE CoiXEGE. Special reports. In a letter, Joseph B. 
Shane, vice president, wrote June 30, 1954: "You must remember that 
Fraternities are somewhat unique on this campus. All men are ex- 
pected to live in dormitories. Two men from each of the five Fra- 
ternities are allowed to room in their houses. They have the re- 
sponsibility of keeping it in order. All eat their meals in the college 
dining room/* 

RIPON COLLEGE, Special reports. Sigma Chi Bulletin, 68: 1 (March 
1955): 1, 10-14. 

BELOIT COLLEGE. Special reports. 

NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY. Special field survey, MS. report on 
file, NCFE. 

COLGATE UNIVERSITY. New York Herald Tribune, May 21, 1954. 
Special reports. 

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN. Miscellaneous mimeo. reports, clippings, 
and file of Michigan Daily for period. Charles R. Lawrence, "Move- 
ments for the Abolition of Fraternity Segregation at Thirty-Three Col- 
leges," Social Problems, 2 (1954-55): 140-153, esp. pp. 144-148, p. 
148 quoted. Correspondence with William S. Zennan, assistant to the 
dean of students. 

WAYNE UNIVERSITY. "Fraternities and Sororities,* Newsletter, 
Midwest Committee on Discrimination in Higher Education, 8: 1 
(Fall 1954) : 2. Information from Henry H. Pixley, associate dean of 

UNivEBSTTY. Student ballot May 13, 1954. Special 

field survey, MS. report on file, NCFE. 

DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. See reference above. Francis E. Merrill, 
MS. study presented before Eastern Sociological Society, April 2, 1955. 


J. S. DICKEY. Quoted in Dartmouth Inteifraterniry Council, "A 
Brief History of the Work to Eliminate Fraternity Discrimination 
Clauses at Dartmouth" (mimeo., 6 pp.), p. 2. 


Nov. 25, 1949. NIC, Forty-First Annual Session, November 24-26, 
1949, Mayflower Hotel, Washington, D.C., pp. 78-79. Special re- 

UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN. V. W. Meloche, chairman, and others, 
"Report of the Committee on Human Rights," May 19, 1952 (mimeo., 
3 pp.) , esp. pp. 2-3. Other mimeo. reports, communications, and 
clippings, files of NCFE. 

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY. Correspondence with W. Emerson Gentz- 
ler, assistant provost. Dick Givens, "Race Bias at Columbia," New 
Republic, Aug. 14, 1950, pp. 123-124. 

UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO. Correspondence with Robert M. Strozier, 
dean of students. Special reports. 

UNIVERSITY OF CONNECTICUT. Letter of Clark L. Bailey, assistant 
to the president, May 3, 1954. New York Herald Tribune, Sept. 25, 

U. S. SUPREME COURT (May 17, 1954, decision). See Kenneth B. 
Clark, ed., **A Symposium on Desegregation in the Public Schools," 
Social Problems, 2 (195455): 197-235. See also text of May 31, 
1955 decision on desegregation, New York Times, June 1, 1955. 

SAZ* FRANCISCO STATE COLLEGE. Correspondence with Dorothy 
E. Wells, associate dean of students. Mimeo. statement: "Principles 
Upon Which Clubs Are Approved by the Associated Students and 
the Deans' Committee," Sept. 1, 23, 1953. Although not a publicly 
controlled institution, the College of the Pacific has a similar policy. 
Robert E. Burns, president of the college, wrote June 2, 1954: xhere 
are no racial or religious membership restrictions in fraternities and 
other student organizations at the College of the Pacific. In fact, I 
thinlf you know that California is relatively free from this sort of 
thing, and we very definitely encourage all races and religious groups 
to participate in our campus activities. Several of our fraternities 
and sororities have different races in their memberships, and of course 
the religious groups embrace all. In other words, there is a very 
acceptable policy at the College of the Pacific as far as your commit- 
tee's interests are concerned." 

Background Bibliography 

Sarah Brooks, "Sororities: Tm Glad I Didn't Join," Mademoiselle, 

Aug. 1953, pp. 244 ff. 
Carey McWilliams, "Toward Real Fraternity," Nation, Aug. 12, 1950, 


pp. 144-145. Discussion, Aug. 26, 1950, p. 195, and Sept. 16, 1950, 
p. 256. 

Tlie Problem of Discrimination by Fraternities/* Reconstructionist, 
20: 12 (Oct 15, 1954): 5-7. 

*BeIigious and Racial Barriers Breaking Down in College Fraterni- 
ties,** NA1RO Reporter (National Association of Intergroup Rela- 
tions Officials), June 1951. 

K W, Staester, "Panhel or Hell? Sororities," Christian Century, 71 
(1954): 493-494. 

"Students Force Review of Fraternity Racism," Christian Century, 
66 (1949): 1478. 

H. P. Van Dusen, "Fraternities and Church Colleges," Christian Cen- 
tury, 70 (1953): 1018-1019. Discussion, ibid., 70 (1953): 1084, 
1170. See also "Church Colleges and the Fraternity Racial Bar," 
ibid., 70 (1953) : 709, and "Free Association in Fraternities," ibid., 
71 (1954): 196. 

Martha Craig Wood, "Sororities: Tm Gkd I Joined," Mademoiselle, 
Aug. 1953, pp. 244 ff. 

Chapter 5 

Reference Notes 

Certain developments described in this chapter are necessarily 
from confidential sources. Undergraduate and alumni members of 
men's and women's fraternities co-operated with the NCFE in making 
this information available. 

Par DELTA THETA. "The Williams and Amherst Cases/* Palladium 
of Phi Delta Theta, special issue (Oct 1953), pp. 1-6. Also based on 
special reports from members. 

SIGMA ALPHA EPSDLON. Confidential MSS. from Cornell University 
organizations % 

ence at the NIC, Mimtes (Bellevue-Stratford Hotel, Philadelphia, 
Pennsylvania, Dec. 3-4, 1954), p. 11. 

E. JACKSON BAUR. "Segregation and Integration in Fraternities at 
the University of Kansas (Lawrence),** 2 pp. mimeo., as presented 
before Society for the Study of Social Problems, September 11, 1954, 
at Urbana, Illinois, p. 2 quoted. 

LJLOTO S. COCHRAN. ^deals in Action," Tomahawk (Alpha Sigma 
Phi), Fall 1954 (reprint). 

AJLBEKT S. BARD. OvUg a Bcnfs Word (pamphlet, privately printed, 
1953, 11 pp.), P- 2- 


DAVID A. EMBURY. "Report of Chairman," pp. 116-126 in NIC, 
Thirty-Ninth Annual Session, November 28-29, 1947, Hotel Com- 
modore, New York, pp. 122-123, 125. 


tion). New York Herald Tribune, November 28, 1948, New York 
Times, November 28, 1948. 


singer). NIC, Forty-First Annual Session, November 24-26, 1949, 
Mayflower Hotel, Washington, D.C., pp. 112-114, p. 113 quoted. 

78-79, p. 79 quoted. Morris Kaplan, "Fraternity Fight on Bias Fore- 
cast," New York Times, Nov. 25, 1949. "Students Force Review of 
Fraternity Racism," Christian Century, 66 (1949): 1478. 

123, pp. 122-123 quoted. 

Forty-Third Annual Session . . . 1951; 1955 Year Book; and 1953 
Year Book for discussions of proposal, alternatives, and firtal report 
See also Merrill E. Prichard, "Reaffirms Autonomy: NIC Convention 
in Cincinnati Held 'Most Significant in Years/ " Sigma Chi Bulletin, 
67: 2 (May 1954) : 1, 16. 

EDGEWATER CONFERENCE. NIC, "Bulletin to the House of Delegates 
and Past Chairmen" (mimeo.), esp. one dated October 28, 1954. Also 
special reports in files of NCFE. 

Pi KAPPA Pm, LAMBDA CHI ALPHA. Confidential MSS. from Cor- 
nell University organizations. 

report. See also "Report of the Discrimination Committee" (mimeo.), 
Massachusetts Institute of Technology, February 24, 1954. 

HENRY MERRTTT WHISTON. Educational Housing (pamphlet, 26 
pp.; Providence: Brown University, 1946), pp. 18-19. 

UNIVERSITY OF PITTSBURGH. Pittsburgh Press, Feb. 25, 1955. 


LARGE METROPOLITAN NEWSPAPER, New York Post, Sept 23 4 1954. 

Background Bibliography 

Many of the men's and women's nationals have published exteaisive 
histories which explicitly or implicitly furnish data on self-segregative 
policies. A great many nationals and some individual chapters and 
locals issue one or more periodicals. In some cases, there is an exoteric 
periodical for general circulation and an esoteric one for members 
only. The latter is usually quite illuminating on self-segregative and 
group-rejective matters. Typical periodicals of men's fraternities are: 


Alpha Chi Rho Garnet and White and The Labarum (esoteric) . 

Alpha Sigma Phi Tomahawk. 

Alpha Tan Omega The Pdm. 

Delta Chi Quarterly. 

Delta Kappa Epsiloii The Deke Quarterly. 

Delta Sigma Phi The Carnation and The Sphinx (esoteric) . 

Delta Tau Delta The Rainbow. 

Delta UpsUon Quarterly. 

Kappa Alpha Order Kappa Alpha Journal. 

Kappa Sigma The Caduceus and The Star and Crescent (esoteric) . 

Lambda Chi Alpha Cross and Crescent and Inescutcheon (esoteric) . 

Phi Delta Theta The ScroU and The Palfatitm (esoteric). 

Phi Gamma Delta. 

Phi Kappa Psi Shield and Mystic Friend (esoteric) . 

Pi Kappa Alpha Shield and Diamond. 

H Kappa Phi The Star and Lamp and Fokromfx (esoteric) . 

Pi Lambda Phi The Tripod, 

Sigma Alpha Epsilon Record and Phi Alpha (esoteric) . 

Sigma Chi Magazine of Sigma Chi and Sigma Chi Bulletin (esot- 


Sigma Nu The Delta. 
Sigma Phi Epsilon Journal. 
Sigma Pi The Emerald and Keryx (esoteric) . 
Tau Kappa Epsilon The Teke. 
Theta Chi The Rattle of Theta Chi. 

Typical periodicals of women's fraternities are: 

Alpha Chi Omega The Lyre and The Heraeum ( esoteric) . 

Alpha Delta Pi The Adelphean and Adelphean Chronicle (esoteric) . 

Alpha Gamma Delia Quarterly. 

Alpha Kappa Alpha The Ivy Leaf. 

Alpha Xi Delta. 

Chi Omega Eleusis and Mystagogve (esoteric) . 

Delta Delta Delta The Trident and Contact! 

Delta Gamma Anchora. 

Delta Zeta The Lamp of Delta Zeta and Sidelights (esoteric) . 

Kappa Alpha Theta. 

Kappa Delta The Angelas and Ta Takta (esoteric) . 

Kappa Kappa Gamma The Key. 

K Beta Phi The Arrow. 

Zeta Tau Alpha Themis and Link (esoteric) . 


Chapter 6 

Reference Notes 

C. B. CRAMPTON. Wesleyan Argus, March 1, 1955, p. 6. 
C. B. CRAMPTbN. Ibid., p. 6. 

Background, Bibliography 

Ray E. Baber, Marriage and the Family, 2nd ed. (New York: Mc- 
Graw-Hill, 1953), chaps. 4-5, "Mate Selection and Courtship." 

Milton L. Barron, People Who Intermarry (Syracuse: Syracuse Uni- 
versity Press, 1946). 

Emory S. Bogardus, "Fraternity as a Primary Group," Sociology and 
Social Research, 24 (1939-40): 456-460. 

Ernest W. Burgess and Paul Wallfn, Engagement and Marriage (Chi- 
cago: Lippincott, 1953), chap. 3, TDating/* 

Thomas Arkle Clark, The Fraternity and the College (Menasha, Wis.: 
George Banta Publishing Co., 1915, 1931). 

Thomas Arkle Clark, The Fraternity and the Undergraduate (Mesn- 
asha, Wis.: George Banta Publishing Co., 1917, 1923). 

Joseph Kirk Folsom, The Family and Democratic Society (New York: 
John Wiley, 1943), pp. 531-534. 

Harold C. Hand, ed., Campus Activities (New York: McGraw-Hill, 

John Harding, Bernard Kutner, Harold Proshansky, and Isidor Chein, 
"Prejudice and Ethnic Relations," chap. 27 in Gardner Lindzey, ed., 
Handbook of Socid Psychology (Cambridge: Addison-Wesley, 
1954), voL 2. 

Elbert L. Hooker, "The Greek and the Independent," Studies in 
Sociology (Southern Methodist University), 3 (1938): 1. 

Clyde Sanfred Johnson, "Chapterhouse Discussions: How Student- 
Veterans Put New Life in an Old Fraternity Tradition," pp. 167- 
200 in NIC, Thirty-Ninth Annual Session . . . 1947. 

Andrew Kapos, "Some Individual and Group Determinants of Frater- 
nity Attitudes Toward the Admission of Members of Certain Minor- 
ity Groups," unpublished Ph.D. dissertation (Ann Arbor, University 
of Michigan, 1952). 

Manford Hinshaw Kuhn, "How Mates Are Sorted,** chap. 8 in 
Howard Becker and Reuben Hill, eds., Family, Marriage and 
Parenthood, 2nd ed. (Boston: D. C. Heath, 1955), esp. pp. 257-261. 


Charles Radford Lawrence, "Integration of Minority Group Students 
in Thirty-Three American Colleges," unpublished report (New 
Haven, Edward W. Hazen Foundation, 1953). 

Alfred McClung Lee, "A Sociological Discussion of Consistency and 
Inconsistency in Intergroup Relations," Journal of Social Issues, 5: 
3 (1949) : 12-18; "The Socialization of the Individual," chaps. 30-35 
in Lee, ed,, Principles of Sociology, rev. ed. (New York: Barnes & 
Noble, 1951); "Sociological Insights Into American Culture and 
Personality," Journal of Social Issues, 7: 4 (1951): 7-14; "Attitudi- 
nal Multivalence in Relation to Culture and Personality," American 
Journal of Sociology, 60 (1954-55): 294-299. 

Elizabeth Briant Lee and Alfred McClung Lee, Social Problems in 
America, rev. ed. (New York: Henry Holt, 1955), esp. chap. 21, 
"Ethnic Difference." 

Louise Price, Creative Group Work on the Campus (New York: 
Bureau of Publications, Teachers College, Columbia University, 

Arnold M. Rose, ed., Race Prejudice and Discrimination (New York: 
Knopf, 1951), esp. part 3. 

Arnold M. Rose, The Roots of Prejudice (Paris, UNESCO, 1951). 

Arnold and Caroline Rose, America Divided: Minority Group Re- 
lations in the United States (New York: Knopf, 1949), esp. chaps. 

Georg SimmeL, "The Sociology of Secrecy and Secret Societies," 
American Journal of Sociology, 11 (1905-06): 441-498. 

Stuart M. Stoke and Elmer D. West, "Sex Differences in Conversa- 
tional Interests," pp. 247-255 in J. M. Seidman, ed., The Adolescent: 
A Book of Readings (New York: Dryden Press, 1953). 

Frederic M. Thrasher, The Gang, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of 
Chicago Press, 1936). 

Willard Waller, "The Rating and Dating Complex," American Socio- 
logical Review, 2 (1937): 727-734. See also his "Courtship Com- 
petition,*' in his The Family, rev. by Reuben Hill (New York: 
Dryden Press, 1951), pp. 148-157. 

William Foote Whyte, Street Corner Society, rev. ed. (Chicago: Uni- 
versity of Chicago Press, 1955). 

Ben Willerman and Richard Emerson, "Perceived Control and Inter- 
dependence as Related to Member Attitudes Toward a Coalition- 
Type Group" (Research in Cohesive and Disruptive Tendencies 
in Coalition-Type Groups, Technical Report No. 1, University of 
Minnesota, rnimeo., 13 pp., no date). 

Ben Willennan and Leonard Swanson, "Group Prestige in Voluntary 
Organizations: A Study of College Sororities,'* Human Relations, 
6 (1953): 57-77. 


Chapter 7 

Reference Notes 

DANIEL KATZ and K. W. BRALY. "Racial Stereotypes of 100 College 
Students," Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 28 (1933): 

G. M. GILBERT. "Stereotype Persistence and Change Among Col- 
lege Students," Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 46 
(1951): 245-254, pp. 245-246, 252 quoted. 

G. W. ALLPORT. The Nature of Prejudice (Boston: Beacon Press, 
1954), p. 204 quoted. 

KAPPA ALPHA ORDER PRESIDENT. Reprint from Kappa Alpha 
Journal, 1952. 

KAPPA DELTA RHO, ALPHA Pi ALPHA. New York Post, Oct. 2, 1952. 
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY. May 8, 1953, action of Committee on 
Student Organizations, W. Emerson Gentzler, assistant provost, chair- 

MINORITY STUDENT STATISTICS. Robert Shosteck and Max F. Baer, 
Two Hundred Thousand Jewish Collegians (pamphlet, B'nai B'rith 
Vocational Service Bureau, Washington, D.C., 1948), esp. Table II, 
p. 12. Charles H. Thompson, "The Relative Enrollment of Negroes 
in Higher Educational Institutions in the United States," Journal of 
Negro Education, 22 (1953): 430 ft, esp. Table I, p. 432. 

Standards Concerning the Admission of Jews to Fraternities at the 
University of Michigan," Social Problems, 2 (1954-55): 133-140. 

DETROIT RACE MOTS. Alfred McClung Lee and N. D. Humphrey, 
Race Riot (New York: Dryden Press, 1943). See also Kenneth B. 
Clark, ed., "A Symposium on Desegregation in the Public Schools," 
Social Problems, 2 (1954-55): 197-235. 

C. W. COLE. Quoted in Howard Whitman, "The College Fraternity 
Crisis/* Comer's, 128: 2 (Jan. 8, 1949): 9. 

"Fraternity Bias at Bowdoin Hit," New York Times, June 19, 1955. 
EUX>N H. REILEY. Quoted in "Summary of MIT Conference on 
Selectivity and Discrimination in American Universities" (mimeo., 
9 pp.), pp. 6-7. See also M.I.T. National Intercollegiate Conference 
on Selectivity in American Universities: March 25, 26 and 27> 
1955: Complete Agenda: Discussion Questions: and Documentation 
(booklet, 35 pp.). 


Background Bibliography 

Gordon W. Allport, The Resolution of Inter group Tensions (New 

York: National Conference of Christians and Jews, 1953). 
Monoe Berger, Equality by Statute (New York: Columbia University 

Press, 1952). 
Alfred McClung Lee, How to Understand Propaganda (New York: 

Rinehart, 1952). 
Robert Morrison Maclver, The More Perfect Union: A Program for 

the Control of Intergroup Discrimination in the Untied States 

(New York: MacauOu, 1948). 
Will Maslow, "Prejudice, Discrimination, and the Law," Annals of 

the American Academy of Political and Social Science 9 275 (May 

1951): 9-17. 
Will Maslow and J. B. Robison, "Civil Rights Legislation and the 

Fight for Equality, 1862-1952," University of Chicago Law Review, 

20 (1953): 363-413. 

Joseph B. Robison, "Organizations Promoting Civil Rights and Liber- 
ties,** Annds of the American Academy of Political and Socid 

Science, 275 (May 1951): 18-26. 
Arnold M. Rose, ed., Race Prejudice and Discrimination (New York: 

Knopf, 1951), esp. part 5. 
Gerhart Saenger, The Social Psychology of Prejudice (New York: 

Harper, 1953), chaps. 11-16. 


Acacia, 126 

Adelphi College, 87, 141 

Albany, State University of New 

York at, 125 
Alfred University, 141 
Allegheny College, 51 
Allen, Dean A., 45, 137 
Allport, Gordon W., 122, 133, 151- 


Alpha Chi Omega, 148 
Alpha Chi Rho, 148 
Alpha Delta Pi, 148 
Alpha Gamma Delta, 21, 148 
Alpha Kappa Alpha, 148 
Alpha Phi Alpha, 22; at University of 

Pittsburgh, 100, 127 
Alpha Phi Delta, 127 
Alpha Pi Alpha, 125, 151 
Alpha Sigma Phi, 25-26, 37, 83, 136, 

Alpha Sigma Psi, 26-27, 37-39, 136, 


Alpha Tau Omega, 148 
Alpha Xi Delta, 16, 135, 148 
American Association of Commons 

Clubs, 36-37, 137 

American Protective Association, 22 
American Youth for Democracy, 85 
Amherst College, 3, 28-30, 39-43, 57, 

69, 80, 84, 87, 130, 136-137, 146 
Anti-Catholicism, 22 
Antiseeret Confederation, 124 
Arizona, University of, 140 
Aryanism, 23, 25, 27, 118, 135-136; 

definition of, ix, 23; in fraternities, 

3, 10, 14, 24, 49, 73, 76-101, 104, 

125, 130, 146-150 
Association of American Colleges, 33, 

55, 89, 139 
AHrin, Samuel, xii 
Atkins, H. Pearce, 143 
Atidnson, Byron H., 141 

Baber, Ray E., 149 

Baer, Max F., 151 

Baily, Harold J., 133 

Bain, Read, xii 

Baird's Manual of American College 

Fraternities, 18-19, 57, 133, 135, 

137, 140, 147 
Baldwin, William H., xii 
Balfour, L. G., 3-5, 134 
Bard, Albert S., 84, 139, 146 
Barnard College, 8 
Barron, Milton L., 149 
Baur, E, Jackson, 83, 146 
Becker, Howard, 149 
Beloit College, 61, 144 
Berea College, 57 
Berger, Morroe, 152 
Beta Sigma Tau, 36-37, 137 
Beta Theta Pi, 43, 89 
Bierstedt, Robert, xu 
Blaesser, Willard W., 140 
Bloomgarden, Lawrence, 134 
Bogardus, Emory S., 149 
Borgmann, Carl W., 138 
Borreson, B. J., 138 
Boston University, 142 
Bowditch, E. Francis, 142 
Bowdoin College, 131, 142, 151 
Brady, Thomas A., 139 
Braly, K. W., 121, 151 
Brooklyn College, 68 
Brooks, Sarah, 145 
Brown, Edward M., 89 
Brown University, 13, 21, 24-25, 61, 

96, 147 

Bryn Mawr College, 57 
Bucknell University, 87 
Buffalo, University of, 140 
Burgess, Ernest W., 149 
Burke, Alice, 135 
Burns, Robert E., 145 
Butterfield, Victor, 104 




California Institute of Technology, 57 

California, University of, 35, 58,' 141 

Carleton College, 57" 

Carlson, William S, 5 54, 139 

Carman, Harry J,, xii 

Carnegie Institute of Technology, 57, 


Catchings, L. Maynard, xii 
Catholic University of America, 21 
Chein, Isidor, 149" 
Chi Omega, 148 
Chicago, University of, T2-73, 80-81, 


Chinese, 37 
Christianity, 92, 135; ethics of, 80, 


Citadel, The, 57 
City Colleges of New York, 12 
Civil War, 19, 22, 26, 92, 124 
Clark, Kenneth B>, 145, 151 
Clark, Thomas Arlde, 149 
Clinchy, Everett R., 22 
Cochran, Lloyd S., 83, 146 
Cohen, George L., xii 
Cole, Charles Woolsey, 30, 130, 151 
Colgate University, 62, 105, 144 
Colorado, University of, 60, 144 
Columbia University, S 57, 72, 87, 

100, 105, 126, 145, LSI 
Communists, 5, 85 
Connecticut College, 57 
Connecticut, University' of, 6, 73-74, 

Cornell University, 22, 39, 50, 52, 55, 

69, 81, 87, 92, 127, 137-138, 146- 


Cowley, William Harold, 19 
Grampian, C. B. s 104-105. 149 
Crawford, Nelson Antrim, 134 

Dakota Wesleyan University, 57 
Dartmouth College, 16, 51, 57, 69- 

72, 80-81, 87, 93-94, 100, 105, 138, 


Davenport, Arthur, 136 
Dawldns, Maurice A., xii 
Day, Edmund Ezra, 55, 139 
Decahg of Fraternity Patocy, 33-34, 


Deeringer, Jack M ., 140 

Definitions of Reciprocal Relations 
between College and fraternity, 

Delta Beta Delta, 32 

Delta Chi, 95 

Delta Delta Delta, 148 

Delta Gamma, 148 

Delta Kappa Epsilon, 148 

Delta Sigma Phi, 99, 148 

Delta Tau Delta, 42, 100, 148 

Delta Upsilon, 82, 124 

Delta Zeta, 148 

Democracy, is, 33, 120, 130. See 
also Fra'ternities and democracy 

Dennison Commons Club, 36 

Dennison University, 36 

Denny, George V., 134 

DePauw University, 19 

Desegregation in the public schools, 
7, 30, 145> 151 

Detroit, University of, 21 

Detroit race riots, 128, 151 

Dickey, John Sloan, 69, 145 

Discrimination: clauses, 6, 28-29, 31, 
49-52, 60, 63-73, 78-82, 85-87, 92- 
95, 97-98, 100, 125, 131, 139-145; 
in community organizations, 129; 
in fraternities, 4-6, 8, 10-14, 20, 
24-26, 28, 39, 49*51, 54-56, 61, 63- 
66, 68-69, 74-77, 79, 84-86, 104- 
105, 125-126, 128, 146, 151,- in the 
United States, 152 
Drake, M. Ellis, 141 
Drake University, 142 
Duquesne University, 21 
DuShane, Donald M., 140 

Edgewater Conference, 89, 147 
Education: anti-intellecttialism in, 

116; pfcifosophy of, 130 
Einstein, Albert, 116 
Elliott, Matel A., zii 
Embury, David A,, 4, 84-85, 134, 147 
Emerson, Richard, 150 
Ensingei, Fred B., 147 
Equitable Society, 124 
Equitable Union, 124 
Ethics, 113; Christian, 80, 124-126 



Faunce, L. Dale, 140 

Faunce, William Herbert Perrv, 24, 

Fine, Benjamin, 134 

Foley, Louis, 14, 134 

Folsom, Joseph K., 11, 149 

Fordham University, 57 

Frank, Mrs. Glenn, 103 

Fraternities: and alumni control, 77- 
101; and democracy, 13, 33-S4, 36, 
40, 42, 46-47, 52, 56, 58, 62, 67, 
75, 88, 101, 122, 131, 134; and de- 
segregation, 43, 53, 57, 62, 145- 
146; and nonsegregation, 33, 78- 
79; and racism, 24, 131, 146-147; 
and rituals, 18, 43, 52, 72, 77, 79, 
81-82, 112, 125-126; and sadism, 
35; and segregation, xii, 4, 7, 16, 
21, 25, 31, 35, 41, 48, 54-55, 58, 
63, 68, 70, 78-79, 82-84, 90, 92-94, 
128, 144, 146-147; and snobbish- 
ness, 10-11, 35, 39, 103; and vet- 
erans, 25, 80, 90; and voluntarism, 
27-28, 119 

as adjustments for political and so- 
cial regulation, 16; as antidemo- 
cratic, ix, 24, 40, 48, 76, 104; as 
best medium of self-education, 3; 
as centers for alumni reunions, 96; 
as help toward maturity, 9-10, 115, 
120; as laboratory in human rela- 
tions, ix-x, 4; as peer groups, 9-10, 
108-120; as phenomena of upper- 
middle class, 106; as protest against 
intellectual! sm, 19, 40; as schools 
for democratic living, ix-x, 119, 

autonomy of, 88, 123, 147; banned, 
57; bigotry of, 101; bureaucrats 
in, 13, 26, 91; constitutions of, 
13, 24, 26-27, 52, 56, 65, 67, 
70, 72-73, 77-78, 81-82, 85, 87, 
92-93, 95, 126, 140-143; expansion 
of, 9, 18-19; functions of, 111, 119- 
120; Gentile, 85; influence on col- 
lege administration, 20, 30; Jewish, 
24-25, 35, 49, 85, 128; Latin 
American, 21; membership of, 8-9, 
17, 30, 41-42, 118, 125, 129, 135, 

139-141, 143; Xegro, 21, 127; 
origin of, IS; policies of, 34, 54. 
82," 90-91, 98, 101; reform of, 53, 
56, 63, 71, S4, 91, 101, 105, 119; 
regulation of, 7, 4S-76; Roman 
Catholic, 21, 78, 55, 126; system, 
13-14, 48, 86, 98, 103, 120;' white 
Christian, 24, 124-126; white Prot- 
estant, 37-38, 79, 85, 127 

Fraternity Criteria, 33-34 

Freemasons, 16-18, 12-3-124, 136-137 

Gentzler, W. Emerson, 145, 151 
Gibbs, Thomas W., 28-30 
Giddings, F. H., 27, 39, 136-137 
Gilbert, G. M., 121-122, 151 
Gist, Noel Pitts, xii, 15, 135 
Givens, Dick, 145 
Glover, Frederic O., 140 
Gobineau, Arthur de, 23 
Grant, Madison, 23 
Greeks, exclusion of, 14-32, 127; ad- 
mission of, 37 
Griffin, Russell A., 140 
Grinnell College, 57 

Hamilton College, 19, 124 

Hammon, Rod, 144 

Hand, Harold C., 149 

Handman, Max Sylvius, 135 

Hankins, Frank H., 136 

Harding, John, 149 

Harvard University, 14, 16, 42, 122, 


Harvill, Richard A., 140 
Hatcher, Harlan H., 67 
Haverford College, 57 
Hazing, 99 
"HeH Week," 99 
"Help Week," 99-100 
Helser, M. D., 139 
Henderson, Gerald, ri 
Herskovits, Melville J., xii 
Hill, Reuben, 149-150 
Hillel Foundation, 123 
Hillsdale College, 36 
Hitler, Adolf, 92 
Hoffins College, 57 
Hooker, EDbert L., 149 



Horowitz, Harold W., 75 
Hotehkiss, Eugene, 138 
Houston, Clifford, 144 
Humphrey, N. D., 151 
Hunt, Erfing, xii 

I C. Sorosis, 19 

Illinois, University of, 140 

Improved Order of Red Men, 16 

Indiana Asbury University, 19 

Indiana University, 142 

Indians, exclusion of, 14; admission 

of, 6 

Iowa, State University of, 140 
Iowa State College, 139 
Italians, exclusion of, 14, 127 

Jews, 122-123, 151; and Aryanism, 
23; admission of, 21, 37, 46, 151; 
exclusion of, 14-15, 21, 25, 35, 80, 
83, 127-128 

ones, John Paul, xii 

ohnson, Clyde Sanfred, 149 

ohnson, Eric, 131, 151 

'ohnson, M. M., 136 

Kansas, University of, 83, 146 

Kansas State College, 139 

Kaplan, Morris, 134, 147 

Kapos, Andrew, 149 

Kappa Alpha Order, 125, 148, 151 

Kappa Alpha Theta, 19, 148 

Kappa Delta, 148 

Kappa Delta Rho, 125-126, 151 

Kappa Kappa Gamma, xi, 19, 148 

Kappa Sigma, 74, 148 

Kappa Theta, 42 

Katz, Daniel, 121, 151 

Kelkr, Albert GaBoway, 16, 135 

Kendrick, Nathaniel C., 142 

Kenworthy, W. E., 139 

King, Tom, 142 

Kiwanis Club, 17 

Knights of Pythias, 17, 135 

Know-Notihings, 22 

Koepsch, Robert H., 138 

Ku Kkx Klan, 22-24, 35, 135 

Kuhn, Manford Hinshaw, 149 

Kutoer, Bernard, 149 

Lambda Chi Alpha, 74, 92-93, 100, 


Latin Americans, 21 
Lawrence, Charles Radfbrd, xi, 68, 

144, 150 

Leake, Howard, 92 
Lee, Alfred McClung, xii, 150-152 
Lee, EKzabeth Briant, xi, 150 
Lee, W. Storrs, 136 
Leraer, Max, xii 
Life magazine, 102, 134 
Loyola University (Chicago), 21 
Loyola University (New Orleans), 

Lukas, Edwin J., 134 

McClelland, George W., 55, 139 

McCracken, Charles W., 51, 136 

Maclver, Robert Morrison, 152 

McKenzie, John F., 142 

Mackey, Albert G., 136 

McKnight, N. M., xii 

McLaurin case, 75 

McWimams, Carey, 134, 145 

Maine, University of, 69 

Manges, Mrs. Horace S., x 

Marcson, Simon, xii, 134 

Marquette University, 21 

Maslow, Will, 152 

Massachusetts, University of, 69 

Massachusetts Institute of Technol- 
ogy, 69, 87, 95, 131, 142, 147, 151 

Meddin, John Moffatt, 135 


Merrill, Farncis E., xii, 144 

Meserve, Harry C., xii 

Miami University (Florida), 5, 140 

Miami University (Ohio), 24 

Michigan, University of, 55, 63-68, 
128, 143-144, 151 

"Michigan plan," 62-65, 68 

Michigan State College, 142 

Middlebury College, 25, 38, 69> 136 

Middle-class ideals and symbols, 106- 
112, 117, 119 

Miller, Naihan, 136 

Miner, Douglas F., 139 

Minnesota, University of, 49-50, 59- 
60, 68, 80, 126, 138 



Missouri, University of, 15, 56, 135, 


Momnouth College, 19 
Montagu, M. F. Ashley, 135 
Moore, Curtis H., 141 
Morals, 9, 113-119, 122 
Mores, 114-117 
Morey, Lloyd, 140 
Morison, Samuel E., 136 
Mount Holyoke College, 57 
Moyer, Sidney S,, xii 

National Committee on Fraternities 
in Education, x, xi, 56, 58, 133, 
141, 145-146; officers of, xii; pur- 
poses of, x; survey by, 12, 53, 144 

National Laterfraternity Conference, 
4-6, 99, 134, 136; 1947 convention, 
85, 147; 1948 convention, 86, 88, 
147; 1949 convention, 87-90, 145; 
1950 convention, 147; 1953 con- 
vention, 89, 139; 1954 convention, 
89, 146; and offensive clauses in 
fraternity constitutions, 13-14, 51, 
78-79, 82-87; "Autonomy Pro- 
nouncement," 88, 147; executive 
committee, 134; polling of member 
nationals, 53, 88; statements, ix, 
33, 54, 133, 137 

National Panhellenic Conference, 6, 
51, 133, 147; offensive clauses in 
sorority constitutions, 14, 78, 84; 
roles of, 100 

Negroes: as members of sororities, 6; 
as stereotypes, 122; admitted to 
fraternities, 21, 31, 38, 144; ad- 
mitted to University of Oklahoma, 
75; enrolled in educational institu- 
tions, 151; excluded from fratern- 
ities, 14, 29-30, 35, 82, 93, 127- 
128; excluded from sororities, 32 

Negro-white relations, 68 

New Hampshire, University of, 15, 

New Yoric, State University of, 6-7, 
12, 54, 67, 73, 76, 125, 139 

Newhouse, Dean S., 134 

Newman club, 123 

Northeastern Interfratemity Confer- 

ence, 1949, 69, 87-88, 145, 147 
Northwestern University, 62, 69, 144 
Nuremberg laws, 92 

Oberlin College, 14 

Odd Fellows, 18 

Ohio University, 36 

Order of the Star-Spangled Banner, 

Oregon, University of, 140 

Orientals, admission of, 144; exclu- 
sion of, 14, 93-94 

Pacific, College of the, 145 

Peer groups, 9-10, 108-120 

Pennington, Leslie T., xii 

Pennsylvania State University, 139 

Pennsylvania, University of, 55, 140 

Pettitt, George A., 141 

Phi Alpha Psi, 30, 39, 42, 137 

Phi Beta Kappa, 16-18, 20, 137 

Phi Delta Sigma, 42 

Phi Delta Theta, 24, 41-42, 99, 148; 
"Aryan blood" clause, 73, 79-81; 
suspension of Amherst and Wil- 
liams chapters, 3, 28, 80-81, 84, 
133, 136, 146 

Phi Gamma Delta, 81 

Phi Kappa, 21, 126, 135 

Phi Kappa Psi, 28-29, 34, 39, 42, 46, 
148; exclusion of Negroes, 29-30, 
35, 82; expulsion of Amherst chap- 
ter, 82, 136 

Phi Kappa Sigma, 21 

PH Mu Delta, 15, 135 

Phi Omega Chi, 32 

H Beta Pin, 19, 103, 148 

Pi Kappa Alpha, 99, 148 

H Kappa Phi, 81, 91-102, 147-148 

Pi Lambda Phi, 21, 35-37, 135, 137 

Piskor, Frank, 139, 144 

Pittsburgh, University of, 100, 127, 
147; ^HeJp Week'' program, 99 

Pixley, Henry H., 144 

Play groups, 9-10, 108-120 

"Pfessy doctrine," 74 

Preuss, Arthur, 136 

Price, Louise, 150 

Prichard, Merrill E., 147 



Princeton University, 14, 40, 57; eat- 
ing clubs, 43-46; 'Katz-Braly study, 
121-122, 128; opposition ' to fra- 
ternities, 43-45 

Principles of Democracy, ix, S3 

Proshansky, Harold, 149 

Protestants, 123-124; exclusion of, 14 

Pullman, Tracy Minton, xii 

Purdue University, 20, 139 

RadclifFe College, 57 

Reed College, 57 

Reiley, Eldon H., 131, 151 

Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, 69, 

Rhode Island, University of, 16, 55, 

Rice Institute, 57 

Ripon College, 61, 98-99 

Risk, Robert, xii 

Robbins, Alfred, 137 

Robison, J. B., 152 

Rochester, University of, 143 

Roman Catholic Church, 21, 57, 78, 

Roman Catholics, exclusion of, 14, 
21, 127 

Romer, Alfred S., xii, 42, 136-137 

Roper, Elmo, survey on fraternities, 
13, 48-49, 134, 138 

Rose, Arnold M., 150, 152 

Rose, Caroline, 150 

Ross, Ian C., 151 

Rotary Club, 17 

Rushing, 62, 102-103. See oho Fra- 
ternities: and democracy; and de- 
segregation; and segregation; and 
snobbishness; policies of 

Ruthven, Alexander G,, 55-56, 66- 

Saenger, Gerhart, 133, 152 

St. John's College, 57 

St Lawrence University, 69 

St. Louis University, 21 

San Francisco State College, 76, 145 

Sarah Lawrence College, 57 

Schultz, Alfred P., 23 

Secret societies, 44, 134-137, 150; 

growth in U.S., 16-18, 123-124; in 
primitive tribes, 16 

Seidman, J. M., 150 

Shane, Joseph B., 143-144 

Sheldon, Henry D., 137 

Shideler, William Henry, 4-5 

Shimer, William A., 137 

Shoemaker, R. L., 142 

Shosteck, Robert, 151 

Sigma Alpha Epsilon, 81, 99-100, 
146, 148 

Sigma Chi, xi, 3, 44, 74, 100, 144, 
147-148; at Texas Christian Uni- 
versity, 97-98 

Sigma Xu, 74, 93-94, 98, 148 

Sigma Phi Epsilon, 70, 148 

Sigma Pi, 14, 148 

Sigma Tau Gamma, 126 

Simester, E. W., 146 

Simmel, Georg, 150 

Simpson, George, x 

Smith College, 57 

Snickenberger, Walter A., 138 

Social fraternity, 124 

Sororities: and "dating," 11; and 
democracy, 47, 63, 103, 146; and 
intermarriage, 120; and racism, 24; 
and restrictive clauses, 50, 69, 72, 
77-78, 85, 142, 144; and segrega- 
tion, 6, 16, 146-147; and voluntar- 
ism, 27; banned, 8, 57, 61-62, 143; 
expansion, 19; functions, 111; gov- 
ernment of, 13; membership, 8, 17, 
30, 139-141; white Christian, 24 

South Dakota State College, 57 

Southern California, University of, 

Stanford University, 140 

Steffens, Lincoln, 117 

Steiner, J. F., 17, 135 

Stephens College, 57 

Stereotyping, 121-122 

Stoke, Stuart, 150 

Strozier, Robert M., 145 

Sumner, William Graham, 16, 135 

Swanson, Leonard, 150 

Swarthmore College, 61-62, 143-144 

Syracuse University, 54, 60, 69, 139, 



Tammany societies, 16-17 

Tate, Winston R., 29 

Tau Kappa Epsilon, 5, 137, 148; 

opposition to racial and religious 

discrimination, 8, 37 
Texas Christian University, 97-98 
Texas Technological College, 98 
Theta Chi, 71, 98, 100, 148 
Theta Delta Chi, 131 
Theta Phi Alpha, 78 
Thompson, Charles H., 151 
Thrasher, Frederic M., 150 
Trinity CoUege (Hartford), 87 
Tunnick, Irve, 134 

Union College, 18, 69, 124 
United States Constitution, 75, 113- 


United States Military Academy, 57 
United States National Student As- 
sociation, 51-52, 138 
United States Naval Academy, 57 
United States Supreme Court: deci- 
sion on desegregation of public 
schools, 7, 30, 74, 145; decision on 
fraternal groups, 6-7, 67, 76; de- 
cision on McLaurin case, 75 
Upsala CoUege, 136 
Utah, University of, 140 

Van Dusen, H. P., 134, 146 

Vassar College, 57 

Vermont, University of, 51, 69, 87, 


Veterans, 25, 80, 90 
Vinson, Frederick M., 28, 75 
Virginia Military Institute, 57 
Virginia Polytechnical Institute, 57 
Voorhees, Oscar M., 137 

Waldo, Robert G., 141 
Waller, Willard, 150 
Wallin, Paul, 149 
Waring, J. Waties, xii 
Warner, Wellman J., xii 
Washington, University of, 58, 141 
Wayne University, 68-69, 144 
Weaver, Robert C., xii 
Webber, G. Curtis, 131 
Webster, Hutton, 135 

Webster, \esta H., 137 

Wellesley CoUege, 57 

Wells, Dorothy E., 145 

Wells CoUege^ 57 

Wesleyan University, 119, 149; stu- 
dent referendum' blocked by ad- 
ministration, 104-105 

West, Elmer D., 150 

Western Reserve University, 140 

Wheaton CoUege, 57 

Whig and Cliosophic societies, 43-44 

Whiteman, Harold B., 141 

Whitman, Howard, 127, 134, 137, 

Whitney, Vincent Heath, 61 

Whitsett, Wilbert, 127 

Wliyte, William Foote, 150 

Wichita, University of, 83 

Willerman, Ben, 150 

William and Mary CoUege, 16 

Williams, H. Franklin, 140 

Williams CoUege, 28, 80-81, 124, 

136. 146 

Williamson, E. G., 138 
Wilson, Edwin H., xii 
Wilson, Woodrow, 44-45, 137 
Wisconsin, University of, 72, 80-81, 

102-103, 127, 145 
Wood, Martha Craig, 146 
Woodward, Carl R., 55-56, 135, 139, 


Wooster, CoUege of, 57 
Worcester Polytechnic Institute, 69 
World War I, 23, 82 
World War II, 8, 18, 25, 40, 45, 48, 

Wriston, Henry Merritt, 13, 61, 96, 

134. 147 

Yale University, 16, 35, 141 
YMCA, 99, 123 
Young, Herrick B., xii 
Young, Paul M., 139 
Yudowitz, Bernard S., 52, 138 
YWCA, 123 

Zennan, William S., 143-144 
Zeta Beta Tau, 82 
Zeta Tau Alpha, 148