Canadians Go Greek: the source for Canadian Chapters

Edmonton Journal - September 8, 2002

Frats these days mostly Animal House-broken:
Sure, some enjoy a party, but members tend to come across as a buttoned-down bunch

By Scott McKeen, Journal Staff Writer

It's just before midnight and Edmonton's notorious Dekes are sniffing the air suspiciously, paying no attention to the naked woman in the hot tub or the buzz of the revellers streaming in and out of their frat house.

The lads of Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity -- a.k.a. The Dekes -- are more concerned at the moment with pinpointing the source of that funky smell. "Where is that coming from?" asks one of them. "Over there, I think," says another, pointing to a huddle on the city sidewalk. "You want me to check it out?" asks a third. Why are these frat boys so jumpy? Judging by the telltale spice in the air, someone nearby is smoking a substance that even the creaky Canadian Senate won't condemn.

So, the Dekes are kidding, right?

Six kegs of beer and who-knows-how-much vodka were stockpiled for Friday's party, the Big House Bash. About 100 beer-breathing revellers grind away to usic downstairs, while almost as many spill out onto the balcony at the front of the frat house. The naked woman is in a steamy hot tub on the front lawn, adjacent to a major Edmonton thoroughfare.

And these guys are worried about a few guests smoking pot beside their property? "No, I'm not kidding," says Jay-D McLean, this year's rush chairman for the Dekes. "No drugs!"

The moment is telling. While many of us tend to think of fraternities in Animal House terms -- and while the Dekes sometimes resemble that remark -- the University of Alberta's Greek-letter community of 15 fraternities, ultimately, comes across as a buttoned-down bunch.

Granted, some of them, especially the Dekes, enjoy a good party. And, yes, Jay-D McLean says he can recite almost the entire dialogue from Animal House, which the Dekes own in both VHS and DVD.

But judging by the way they talk, the U of A's frat boys and frat girls are more interested in academic achievement, sporting excellence and community service. They revel in tradition, loyalty and honour. They appreciate the benefits of networking with other members and fraternity alumni.

"I would put my life on the line for everyone initiated into this fraternity," says Jim Dykeman, a Deke alumnus and schoolteacher. "We're not looking for guys who can pound back beers," he says.What are you looking for, Jim? Dykeman raises his glass to recite the hallowed words.

"Gentlemen, scholars and jolly good fellows."

Fraternities, according to Jay-D McLean, all trace their roots back to the historic Freemason movement. Like the Masons, fraternities are semi-secret societies whose members are bound by conservative tradition and codes of conduct. The Dekes, who were founded in 1844 at Yale and came to the U of A 70
years ago, are one of the most secretive. All rituals, including initiation procedures, are not to be discussed with non-members.

One of the only detractors of that stance is Delta Upsilon, which rejects the tradition of secrecy. Local Delta Joseph Henke says even initiation rituals are open."We think it's important that we can involve family members in the whole process," he said.

But in the case of the Dekes -- much to the annoyance of other frats -- even the names of the executive members are kept secret.

The aim of all this secrecy, according to social scientists, is to set fraternity members apart from outsiders and forge a tight and loyal bond. U of A sociologist Steve Kent says fraternities are like surrogate families -- "offering a sense of instant community" -- for university students leaving home for the first time.

The initiation rituals are the beginnings of a rite of passage -- led by senior members and by fraternity alumni -- that guide pledges through university and eventually into business or professional life.

"Talk to anyone who has done it and they'll say it was the best thing they've ever done," says Jay-D McLean. "I came out of it a better person." The Dekes' refusal to release the names of its executive members, along with some other bad-boy moves, has put them at loggerheads with the U of A's interfraternity council. At the same time, some other fraternities have been critical of the way the Dekes perpetuate the Animal House stereotype.

"We're trying to clean up the image of fraternities," says Tim Russell, of Pi Kappa Alpha. "And here we have this rogue fraternity. It's kind of frustrating." But even Russell concedes that part of the antipathy towards the Dekes has to do with their relative wealth. The Dekes own and reside in a 4,000-sq.-foot frat house, just off campus.

"They have a lot of prominent alumni and they get a lot of alumni support," says Russell. "They have more money than anyone else, so yeah, there's a bit of jealousy." McLean and his frat brothers make no apologies for being the most social club on campus. Their motto is Work Hard, Let Loose. The goal is to excel in classes, then blow off steam on weekends.

"The other fraternities stress that they're not like Animal House," says McLean. "Well, we're not throwing kegs out the window or anything, but we throw more parties than all the other fraternities combined." It should be noted that even the no-secrets Deltas -- or DUs, as they like to be called -- don't completely reject the Animal House thing. While they're proud of their record of community service and academic achievement, they don't want to be portrayed as robots.

"We are ultimately about building men of character," says Henke.

Darcy Pennock, spokesman for campus security, says problems with the
fraternities have ebbed and flowed over time. Right now, he says, things are quiet. Even the Dekes' record of late is hard to quibble with, says Pennock. As a courtesy, the Dekes inform campus security about upcoming parties, as well as notifying neighbours.

But there is always the potential for problems when a party is advertised widely and everyone is welcome. Pennock tells the story of another fraternity that had a party go wrong one night about five years ago. Campus security was called and had to break up a number of fights.

Several arrests were made, but an angry mob followed the campus cops back to their office in hopes of freeing the incarcerated fellows. Pennock says it took some fast talking, but the cops eventually convinced the mob to leave. When the officers returned to their cars later, there was a funny smell in the air.

"Yeah, they'd urinated on the vehicles."