Northwestern University’s secret society, Deru, tells potential initiates, “Come in secret, leave in silence.” Several Deru members recently chose to break the silence, but like the operation itself, they preferred to remain in the shadows – anonymous and unaccountable.
“I was intrigued because I kind of had an idea what it was,” said Jim (the names in this story have been changed), an NU senior, of when he first received an invitation to join the group. “So the weirded out-ness of it was kinda missing. But I was worried about what was going to happen, if they were going to chase me around or something – which they didn’t.”
“They” consists of approximately 15 student leaders selected their junior year. Although I haven’t discovered who does the picking, I do know Deru’s aim is to deal with campus issues and facilitate reform. The selling point is its purported link to the administration.
Amanda, a junior Deru hopeful, says the group is “an opportunity to make a difference and make a change.”
While past chosen ones had an initiation Jim called “lame,” this year’s 15 must prove their worth.
One night last week, 35 juniors were summoned to the John Evans Alumni Center, where they received their mission: to divide into groups, discuss enumerated topics, put ideas into envelopes and stash the envelopes in the subterranean gardens of Deering Library. Who even knew Deering had subterranean gardens?
“I really hope that I’m chosen,” said Grace, who was invited to attend last week’s gathering. “I feel like it’s a really great opportunity to have a dialogue with other campus leaders that doesn’t really take place on this campus.”
Enthused Amanda, “I’m really excited to tear shit up, basically. Any chance to get closer to the administration and Board of Trustees would be great.”
But Jim admitted that after several months, “We haven’t talked to the administration about anything.” Meetings are held irregularly, he said, perhaps once a month. “It’s an honor to be a part of it, for sure,” he said nonetheless. “The fact that the body is a secret could make administrators more comfortable about coming to us. They don’t (come to us), but if they did.”
Deru’s secret status disturbs Amanda, though: “It just seems so archaic and bizarre and old boys’ club and elitist and all of those other bad things that I’ve always tried to stay away from.”
Deru has traditionally stayed away from it, too. Yale University’s Order of Skull and Bones, a secret society founded in 1832, has always thrived on covertness. Composed of America’s power brokers (including George Bush and his pretzel-gobbling son) and allegedly tied to the CIA and drug smuggling, secrecy is imperative.
But Deru, an Indo-European root from which the word “true” is derived, doesn’t require confidentiality. Its plunge underground is a recent innovation. In fact, it’s not clear whether Deru really went underground. During the spring of 2000, The Daily wrote about a Deru-hosted conference that included 75 student leaders, President Henry Bienen and other administrators, and several distinguished alumni.
Deru also is featured in the NU Student Handbook and can even be accessed by Ph. Its listed department, “Secret Societies,” is as plain and illogical as the gold menus on NU’s ugly new homepage.
According to “The Skulls,” “If it’s secret and it’s elite, it can’t be good.” Though I hate to ally myself with this silly flick, I’m inclined to agree.
The real key to campus progress does not lie in closed, clandestine negotiation but in open, transparent dialogue. NU’s issues demand direct address and require broad-based response. If the Lagoonfill outcry and radio-TV-film protest are any indication, Deru is cute, but it
doesn’t cut the mustard.
