Add The New York Post on Google BATON ROGUE, La. — Sorority rush week at Louisiana State University comes in with a roar and leaves with a hoarse whisper.
For eight days before hordes of young women lined up outside the houses on sorority row to make their bids to get in last week, sorority sisters spent 12 hours a day preparing to welcome — and ruthlessly vet — the next generation of wannabe Greek leaders.
The older students perfected their “bouncing and clapping” cheers to welcome the prospective members, refreshed themselves on the 1-to-10 ranking system they would use to evaluate them, staged mock rushes with other chapters — and, of course, churned out perfectly curated social-media content every step of the way.
In the high stakes world of sorority rush, nobody does it quite like the big schools of the Southeastern Conference (SEC) — including Alabama, Ole Miss, Georgia and LSU.
“So much money and time goes into work week and actual rush – it’s crazy,” said LSU sophomore and Tri Delta member Mary Macie Ezell.
And it’s become big business. Arizona-based Dutch Bros. coffee and Kourtney Kardashian’s Lemme gummies brand both sent swag to help the Tri-Delt gals power through.
It can also mean fame and success — beyond the sorority. Ezell gained more than 1,300 followers and 40,000 likes on TikTok since she began documenting her LSU experience – helping her land brand deals and an internship.
Ezell and fellow Tri Delta sophomore Nora Fettig, both 19, gave The Post a rare behind-the-scenes look at what it really takes to survive the wildly demanding recruitment process at one of the country’s biggest SEC schools – from strictly matching outfits, gallons of energy drinks and painstakingly rehearsed chants to the moment hundreds of wannabe sisters descend upon their Baton Rouge mansion
When the throngs arrive, little is left to chance.
As roughly 1,600 sorority hopefuls stream through the Tri Delta house during “philanthropy rounds,” the 300 members know exactly how each 45-minute visit should unfold – and who they’ll be talking to.
The first 10 minutes are devoted to synchronized “bouncing and clapping.” These are all terribly secret, but Ezell and Fettig shared one example with The Post: ‘D-E-L-T-A / One letter / That’s all we say!”
Then comes the real recruiting – another carefully choreographed production.
The hopefuls move through what Tri Delta calls “The Snake,” or a precise formation of sisters waiting to greet them in the courtyard.
At least one sister in the house knows the name and face — and background from Instagram and other publicly available info — of every prospective member who steps into the house, said Ezell, a communications major from the Houston area.
That sister chats with the sorority hopeful for 15-20 minutes before seamlessly “bumping” her to another chapter member, Ezell said.
During these high-stakes conversations, the Tri Deltas are looking for girls who show an interest in their philanthropy, St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, and who appear to embody the house’s three core values: “brave, bold and kind.”
But there are some subjects better left untouched.
Bringing up the “Three B’s” – boys, booze and beliefs – are generally off-limits for girls rushing a sorority.
However, the third is less taboo at Tri Delta, because “we have a strong faith in our chapter,” Fettig told The Post through a voice that had grown hoarse from repeated cheer practices.
While she and her sisters may not judge a recruit harshly for bringing up their love for God, for example, “You’re not supposed to talk about things like politics.
“It’s not make or break, but that should not be the topic of conversation,” said Fettig, an Atlanta-area native who’s studying chemical engineering at LSU.
Then comes the judgement. In the 1-to-10 rating system, a candidate would only receive the lowest score for displaying a “very disinterested” attitude toward Tri Delta, while a 3 might be given out “in a case of like, ‘She’s just not for me,’ or ‘She’s probably a better fit somewhere else,’” Ezell explained.
That’s when the tears come — as the sorority sisters and the freshmen both figure out who really belongs where.
“A lot of times they will cry. … It’s been a long week for them too. And it’s emotional,” Fettig said, referring to the potential new members.
But then comes “Bid Day” – when everyone involved finally gets to see their hard work pay off.
The Tri Deltas spent Sunday morning waiting for their new pledges to “run home” through the Louisiana heat – which saw highs of almost 100 degrees last week – after opening an envelope revealing which house they’d been invited to join.
After the sisters then greet them enthusiastically at the finish line, it’s time to celebrate – typically during a sophisticated event hosted at the nearby home of a sorority alumna, Ezell and Fettig said.
But by then, the physical toll of rush will likely be setting in – just one day before classes begin.
Between the Southern heat, long days and germs carried between hundreds of recruits and sisters, feeling ill is practically part of initiation, Ezell said.
“You know you’re going to get sick. Everyone gets at least a little bit sick.”
The mantra is to simply “power through,” she explained – especially because there’s another audience waiting and watching.
“When I was going through recruiting and just coming to LSU, I didn’t see a ton of people posting informational videos, so that’s why I started doing it once I got here,” Ezell told The Post. “And then it just turned into something that was very fun for me – but also rewarding.”
But the ultimate goal remains getting more young women to “Geaux Tiger” and rush Tri Delta, Ezell said – and recalled one young woman telling her she decided to attend LSU because of her TikTok videos.
“She was like, ‘I’m choosing LSU because you’ve been so helpful,’ and ‘I know so much information’ ” from the clips, Ezell said.
“That’s rewarding enough for me, that I’ve had people come here because they can see how much I love it.”
