Hidden Dreams

As far as “frat boys” go, in college I was mild.  I drank some beer, participated in some pranks, and even wore a toga or two.  However, as measured by the low bar many people have for the Greek system, I may have represented a disappointing alter-paradigm disproving the modern stereotype.

As an undergraduate, I was often confused why my membership in a fraternity was such a polarizing topic to others.  I lost friends who told me I had “sold out”.  I didn’t feel different.  Quite the opposite, I joined Sigma Chi because I was impressed with the organization’s historical commitment to the high ideals of friendship, justice, and learning.  Even now, I anticipate some readers are rolling their eyes.

What some people don’t know about Greek organizations is that most were founded as literary or service societies.  The resumes of most fraternal founders are incredibly inspiring.  Unfortunately, today’s Greeks are known for debauchery and poor academic performance.  Even more heartbreaking is the behavior feeding those perceptions.

As a starry-eyed young man, I didn’t let negative sentiment influence my dedication.  I was committed to a set of guiding principles called, “the ritual”.  A majority of fraternities have rituals, and they are not what you might expect.

My assumption is that the image conjured by the term, must look something like the scene from Animal House where Kevin Bacon’s character is repeatedly beaten on the backside with a giant paddle while screaming, “thank you sir, may I have another!”

By contrast, most rituals are poetic.  The words in fraternal rituals are meant to inspire men and women to live values-based lives.  Think church.

The ritual of my particular fraternity is known only to its members.  Of course I am aware some people’s discontent with this concealment, as it breeds hierarchy and segregation.  They have a point.

Years after I graduated, I attended a Sigma Chi conference called the Leadership Training Workshop.  One of the keynote speakers created controversy by suggesting our organization should make the ritual public, and market its content.  His thesis included a profound theory; “the ritual is secret because if society knew what was in it, we might be held accountable to the high ideals for which it advocates!”

Considering this idea, I wonder if this concept is similar in other aspects of our lives.  When I worked in Hollywood, I told people I had aspirations to write a screenplay.  I even started one.  For many ensuing years, thoughtful friends and family would ask me about my progress with the best intentions.  I was ashamed to communicate the outcome.  Often I would lie and say, “It’s coming along.”  Some people still ask me about it.

There are at least a half-dozen other unfulfilled goals I can reference as similar examples; learning to play the piano, taking up a foreign language, or writing a book to name a few.  What I realize is that by making these dreams public, I ran the risk that people might hold me accountable.

Are values any different?  If I claim to be a man of integrity, but act in a manner inconsistent with that value, what message am I sending?

Last night I posted a link to this blog on my Facebook and LinkedIn profiles.  Today at work, a colleague stopped me in the hall and said, “Hey, I read your blog.”  I had an internal flash of panic.  In a paused moment of mental file searching, I considered all of the lofty declarations I’ve made public by writing about them.  What had I done?!

Following the interaction with my peer, and anticipating more like it, I have a desire to be even more transparent.  Perhaps for the first time in many years, I am motivated to share my thoughts not only to arouse the interest of others, but finally hold myself accountable to the outcomes.

If I keep my dreams secret, not only will they be hidden to others, they will be hidden to me.

A funny, but unfortunate stereotype