Friends Old and New

Fall Break is upon us, and while State University does not bless its students with a mid-semester reprieve from classes and exams, most schools do, and that brings my high school friends back home.

A few of them made the trip out to State College Town this past weekend, two of whom were playing in a Beer Pong Tournament in the hopes of earning a trip to Las Vegas to compete in the World Series of Beer Pong. I dutifully awoke at the at the hour of 1 p.m. to be on hand to see my old buddies, Charles and Ned, battle amongst the 60-odd teams that were competing at one of the local bars. I brought Audrey with me, and also in attendance were two other friends from high school, Mark and Clint, hoping to see Charles and Ned to victory.

To preface this post, I must do a bit of detail on my life before college. I attended an urban, single-sex school, made up of students from the surrounding suburbs. Only one other guy from my middle school went to high school with me, and we eventually parted ways, hanging out with different crowds. My crowd could be most generously described as "bookish," I being the least brainy of my friends. They went off to the Ivy Leagues and the prestigious private schools of the East Coast, and I remained behind, toiling a mere 15 miles from my parents.

My freshman year at State College was anything but a success. I missed the single-sex atmosphere and the tight bond that developed between my classmates, no matter your clique. I missed the relationships I had developed with teachers and faculty members who served as friends and mentors alike. Simply, I missed the camaraderie and gentle playfulness that attended each and every one of my classes.

I believe this is what led me to join a Greek organization; I longed to be part of something bigger than me, something I could be proud to be a part of and eager to achieve for the greater glory of its name. I did not find this in the dorms, and I did not find the relationships I had cultivated in my four years of high school.

Unfortunately, with every passing year, it becomes more and more evident that the bonds I had with my old friends has become strained, and, that in many ways, I have changed a great deal, and during no other encounter was it so painfully obvious than this weekend's.

I met my four friends at the bar and we shared a few beers and a few stories as we watched the college football contests play out on the screens that adorn the bar's walls. We chatted about the tournament, about how our semesters are going and plans for next year. I learned Charles had broken up with his girlfriend of a few years and that Ned was continuing a relationship he started with a girl from this summer, while lamenting about my inability to keep in touch with Clint, despite the fact he too goes to State University.

But, the dynamic shifted when Audrey entered the bar, dressed in her sorostitute best amongst shabbily dressed, and mostly overweight, guys throwing ping pong balls into cups of beer. She had only met two of them, albeit briefly, but it was a paradox I was excited to view: my current girlfriend vs. my old friends.

There were the predictable embarrassing stories, but what was most telling was their overall inability to relate to or talk to her. Audrey is not shy in the least, and she tries very hard (bless her heart) to hang out with my friends, even if she is outnumbered by Y chromosomes. But she was a little taken aback at their lack of interest in getting to know her; they were more concerned with talking amongst themselves or making fun of me.

It was truly telling that my old friends behaved in this manner. I often think about who I have become in college and who I was in high school, and how peers who have seen me through both periods view me. I am admittedly terrible at keeping up relationships, evidenced by this awkward exchange between Clint and Audrey.

Audrey (to Clint): "So, where do you go to school?"
Clint: "I go here, Carter is just too cool to call me anymore."

Ouch.

So, have I become "too cool?" Well, yes and no. Yes, because the nature of Greek Life, unfortunately, is to exclude those that aren't in it. It becomes a headache to be in the middle of two groups of people that do not know each other and have little interest in knowing one another. But, Audrey, as she always seems to do, had an interesting take on the situation. She said that, yes I bear some of the responsibility because I choose to hang with my fraternity brothers over my high school friends, but, she also sympathized with my situation.

The adjective "fratty" gets tossed around by my old friends quite often to describe my new social order, and with it all the negative stereotypes: I'm too concerned with what others think, I'm too cool to do stuff we used to do in high school and that I'm overly obsessed with talking about girls and our relationships with them. (Greek Arrogance alert!) I grow frustrated with old friends and their unwillingness or unsuccessful attempts to hang out with me and my fraternity brothers, because, on a whole, they lack some of the necessary social abilities to succeed in Greek Life. But it is a two way street. Perhaps I am "fratty," and I definitely have changed since high school, but the fact remains that they still display timidness around my friends, even my girlfriend who is eager to get to know them and by correlation, me as I was as a young adult.

For example, if you had the choice to go to the bar with fun guys that would intermingle amongst the crowd or a group that would huddle with itself, which would you choose? I hate that my involvement in Greek Life has left my old friends behind, because I had strong, meaningful relationships with them, and many of my Greek Friends are closer to party friends, but how can I involve myself in one group enough without leaving the others on the short end? I joined Greek Life in the hopes of building relationships similar to the ones I cherished so much in high school, but it appears increasingly more likely that I have irrevocably damaged those that I held so dearly.

My old friends shed their college identities when they return home from school; I do not have that luxury, because I go to college at home. They want me to be the guy from high school, the one with the chip on his shoulder because he was originally from Philly and because he didn't get any playing time on the basketball team. And when I fail to fill that role, it is because I have changed, because I have become "fratty," and lost my self identity. So, I pose the question, does the Fraternity inhibit my individualism, or is it my old friends who want me to behave in old patterns?