I remember the first Brownstone rush event I attended. I had just dropped out of sorority recruitment. Despite telling people that, “I realized being in a sorority wasn’t for me,” my real reason at the time was that I had been cut by all sororities but one during the first round. I had friends as a first-year, some that I still consider friends today. Yet I had gotten most of these friendships from different places—I didn’t have a “friend group,” let alone a block of seven other people to live with. In search of a community, I reached out to a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, a member of something called a “selective living group,” to see whether it was too late for me to participate in the recruitment process.