In the months leading up to my arrival at Stanford, I began asking questions about the nature of Greek life on campus, attempting to ascertain whether this should be a part of my Stanford experience.
If I am ever late to class (which I endeavor at all costs not to be), it is usually a result of one of three potential factors. Maybe I just overslept — it happens to the best of us. Or maybe it’s raining and my journey time has doubled because I wanted to walk in the shelter of the arcades instead of taking my usual diagonal trajectory across Main Quad. But most likely, I am quite simply waiting for the elevator.
Once a week, early enough that the sun has barely risen, a small group gathers outside Green Library for an hour or so and chats. Seated around a table at Coupa Cafe, they discuss typical Stanford things: what classes to avoid, what grad schools to apply for, what articles they’ve been reading.