Member-only story
MY KAPPA SWEETHEART
A KISS AT DAWN
I have nothing but the utmost respect for fraternities and sororities, especially black frats and sorors at predominantly white institutions.
When you make up a small percentage of the overall student population, you can feel alone. The frats and Soros give the minority students a sense of belonging to something bigger than themselves.
In my case I found it unnecessary, I already belonged to a frat. The men’s basketball team, this fraternity was exclusive. Having a millionaire father couldn’t gain you entry.
It didn’t matter if your pedigree went as far back as George Washington; the odds of your son receiving a basketball scholarship and gaining entry to one of the elite 8 institutions that played basketball in the ACC during the late 80s is the equivalent of getting struck by lightning twice.
My roommate, however, loves the step shows and the way the KAPPAs danced with the cane. He joins the KAPPAs, one of the 3 black frats on campus. The other 2 were the Q dogs or Omega Si Phi and the Alphas.
They broke down along these lines: KAPPAs were the Pretty Boys, the Q’s were the hardcore brothers, and the Alfa’s were the Geeks.
I had considered joining the KAPPA’s ranks but reconsidered when I saw what Big Shottie had to endure. First…
