In that Fraternity basement…

Mad Dog.

That’s what I was drinking one night in college.

It’s not exactly what you call fine liquor but it was cheap and when you’re in college, you try to make your summer savings account last. Even though my funds never made it past October.

My girlfriends and I were spending our Friday night at the usual place…a basement frat party. They were my favorite nights.

Let me get to it…my friends went home. I remember they needed to be in good condition the next day because their parents were coming to visit. I, on the other hand, was not ready to stop dancing…or drinking my Banana Red Mad Dog.

Then there were shots. Many shots.

Goldschlager.

Just typing that out makes me gag. There are mouthwashes I can’t even use because it takes me back.

I was surrounded by 15-20 fraternity brothers…some I knew really well…others I didn’t know at all. They were all pretty big guys.

I was the only girl left at the party.

The last thing I remember is the room spinning…and the bass from the speakers was killing my head.

That’s the last thing I remember.

I woke up early the next morning on the couch.

There was a warm fuzzy blanket draped over me…my shoes were on the floor beside me…there was a trash can next the couch too…my clothes were on.

Those 15-20 fraternity brothers took care of me.

They didn’t take anything that wasn’t theirs.

And you know, I wasn’t dressed what some would call “appropriate.” I had a belly shirt on…low cut jeans with a flannel wrapped around my waist. I’m sure I was overly giddy…maybe even flirtatious considering the amount of alcohol I drank.

The night could have ended a lot differently for me because it was a textbook situation we have been taught to avoid. Skin was showing…alone at a party…too much alcohol.

IT. DID. NOT. MATTER.

They didn’t take anything that wasn’t theirs.

They respected me.

They protected me.

It’s not what we wear.

It’s not a look we give.

It’s not how much we drink.

It is how we are raised and how we value another human being.

Not only was I forever grateful to those 15-20 fraternity brothers…I was forever grateful to their parents.

It’s not just our job to teach our daughters about situations to avoid…

It’s our job to teach our sons to respect women.

Period.

 

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2 thoughts on “In that Fraternity basement…

  1. I have to admit, I was ready to be upset that you were shaming fraternities. There is good and evil everywhere in this world and we can only control what we are putting into it. If anything, this time in our history has given parents an opportunity to have those conversations with our sons and daughters about how to act in these situations. Be respectful and no means no. I have sons and a daughter and I would hope that if they were in this same situation that they would have the same outcome. Have a great day!

    Like

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