I was having a conversation with one of my friends the other day, talking about how sometimes it feels like it is hard to meet people at Penn who are open and friendly. For a school that’s known as “the social Ivy,” students here seem to be oddly closed off within their respective bubbles. Then, my friend said something that caused me to sit back and reflect:
“Penn is more cliquey than my high school was.”
At first it sounded weird. Haven’t we outgrown the homeroom drama and recess cliques era? Aren’t cliques something from our lives in the 2010s when other kids would decide if you were able to enter the playhouse or not?
Unfortunately, at Penn the obsession with cliques and social status is very much alive and thriving, even though most of us are past twenty. Even though we claim that we go to “the social Ivy,” our culture rewards exclusivity, undermining the community we claim Penn fosters.
The idea of exclusivity permeates every aspect of campus, as if we are still kids competing for spots in the playhouse. Living in the high rises is perceived as “sceney” because “it’s like the Quad for sophomores.” Wearing certain clothes and being able to get into certain clubs all add to Penn students’ social capital. With all this in mind, it’s not hard to see Penn as just four more years of high school.
While writing this column, I spoke to two first years, who gave me their perspective on coming to Penn. One of them noted that the first thing that stood out when they arrived on campus was how “exclusionary” everything was. This is ironic, considering Penn has over 10,000 undergraduates. You would assume that having more people around you would make it easier to find community; however, this first year noted how Penn students are “always trying to create extra groups of those who are in versus the ones who are out.”
The other first year I spoke with expressed how creating friendships at Penn feels “unnatural” because people at Penn are very transactional. Even as something that’s supposed to make students’ lives easier, friendships often actually end up making life unnecessarily stressful. Progressing friendships from just waving on Locust or grabbing the occasional dinner can be quite challenging when so many refuse to look beyond a surface level. “We dismiss each other based on status symbols, without even taking the time to find out who they are,” said one of the students.
Yet so many of us pretend this isn’t happening. We call Penn the “social Ivy,” post a few pictures, and call it a day. We need to realize that even the spaces we use to build community are flattened out into vehicles for social hierarchy.
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These hierarchies don’t appear out of nowhere — they are reinforced by the same institutions meant to build connection. Take clubs or greek life, for example. Early in November, sororities market their sisterhood as a way to find community at Penn. However, when recruitment becomes about perceived tiers and insider knowledge (like dirty rushing), it cements the idea that belonging is something you earn through status rather than create naturally through connection.
As a junior in greek life, I couldn’t be more grateful for the chapter I found and the community I was able to build. I’ve seen how much work and care goes into fostering sisterhood. So why do we so often let it get reduced to just a status symbol?
Belonging, whether in a greek organization or a preprofessional club or a performing arts group, should not be treated like a merit badge. Penn students should remember that in four years, the tiers, the rankings and the letters won’t matter anymore. It is time to redefine what the social Ivy should be; we left the playground years ago, it’s time our social culture does too.
MARIANA MARTINEZ is a College junior studying Political Science from Bogotá, Colombia. Her email is marmari@sas.upenn.edu.
