The Bee: A Club of Their Own

To become a member of the Bee, an undergraduate woman must be interested in the club. She must be interesting to club members. She must stand out among the more than 100 women who have also been punched.

At punch events, she must introduce herself to as many women with gold stars on their name tags as possible--the stars indicate members of the 35-woman organization.

Some women might only be invited to the Sunday afternoon tea at the Fly. Others might make it to the punch's second round--a Thursday night cocktail party at the Phoenix. An even smaller number will be asked to attend an all-day outing, last semester's final punch event. Ultimately, about 20 women will be inducted.

But the path to Bee membership does not get much clearer than that.

"There are no guidelines or criteria for becoming a Bee woman," says Vanessa G. Hoermann '99, president of the organization, explaining that the Bee's mission is to serve as a support network for women on campus.

To that end, Hoermann says the Bee looks for women who represent a variety of academic and extracurricular interests--women who will "bring something to the organization."

But Hoermann's perspective of the Bee as a meritocratic institution is not one widely shared on campus.

Less than a decade old, not officially recognized by the College and without a building to call their own, the Bee's low profile has led many to dismiss it as an elitist institution welcoming only those who can claim Phillips Exeter Academy or the Groton School as their alma mater or the women's squash team as theirprimary group of friends.

It is no surprise then that accounts of the Beeand its events vary widely. One recently-inductedsophomore described the organization as a "nice,nice group of girls who are articulate, confidentand good role models."

But Kamil E. Redmond '00, who was punched forthe club and decided not to join after attendingthe first punch event, says she only met "anextension of a New York all-girls prep school."

"I could picture these women 40 years latergetting together for tea and crumpets," Redmondsays.

Redmond and others are also quick to bemoanwhat they perceive as the club's lack of ethnic orsocioeconomic diversity. Redmond says she believesshe may have been punched because, as a blackwoman, she could add diversity to theorganization.

In the face of such criticism, Hoermann standsby the Bee as one of the few places on campuswhere women can feel a sense of single-sexcamaraderie. But while few question the importanceof a support network for females on campus, manyquestion whether gender is the only prerequisitefor membership in the Bee.

From Sewing to Socializing

More than a century ago, the Bee had a moredefined purpose.

During the Civil War, the women of Cambridgeformed a sewing bee--a circle of women whoconvened weekly to sew uniforms for the Unionsoldiers. Members naturally formed friendshipsover the long hours spent together working, andwhen the war ended, the group continued to meet asa book club and social outlet.

The Bee, as it came to be known, survived untilthe beginning of the century, before it wasinterrupted by the first World War.

In the late 1980s, a group of Harvard womendecided they wanted a female version of theall-male final clubs already on campus. Deborah E.Lipson '95, a former Bee president, says aRadcliffe alum told the budding organization ofthe Civil War group and the 14 founding membersadopted the name "the Bee."

Lipson says the club was originally formed as asocial outlet.

"It never felt like a sorority, but it was morea group of women who were looking for otherinteresting women to talk to," Lipson says."Nothing was required, nothing was expected frommembers. You got out what you put in."

In those days, Lipson says Bee activitiesranged from weekly coffees to an annual boozecruise with informal club lunches on the side.

"I don't think people realized the type offriendships that were being made," Lipson says."There were people making connections that wouldlast a lifetime."

Still, Lipson says the Bee decision to keep theclub a secret initially led to a checkeredreception on campus.

"Their attitude at the time was to keep thingsquiet until they felt secure enough to go public,"Lipson says, explaining that attempts to formother female clubs had failed in the past. "Itsort of came off as being super-snobby,super-exclusive, kind of cagey."

Bee All That You Can Bee

Today, club members say that negative--andinaccurate--stereotype persists.

While still a small group, the club, whichbegan with 14 founding members, inducted 22undergraduate women in last semester's punch.

"The new officers seem to say this is themoment that the club can start making money whichwould lead to having a house and being able to domore things," says Medora S. Bross '00, a recentlyinducted member.

And Bee members say they are proud to be partof the organization.

"I never thought I would join a sorority-typeorganization, but I was just impressed with thepeople," says Beth A. Stewart '00, president ofthe Undergraduate Council. "I liked the fact thatwe were all compatible."

"I have the same distaste for meaningless,hollow talk that most people do," she adds. "Theconversations were less superficial than I thoughtthey would be."

Hoermann says the mix of women make the Beesuccessful as a resource for their members.

"The attitude right now in the Bee is to form asupport network for each other, to learn about thelives of others we wouldn't have met were it notfor this group," Hoermann says. "We're trying todo something positive."

And Bee members also laud the more tangiblebenefits that come with being a member of theorganization.

"It's an opportunity to meet each other, makeconnections and network for the future," says onesophomore who recently joined the Bee. "They don'tusually accept people that don't look like theyare going someplace."

Lipson says she is always willing to helpcurrent and former Bee members, explaining thatannual dinners and luncheons help her stay intouch with the organization.

"I've helped people get jobs on Wall Streetthrough Bee connections," Lipson says.

A greater number of club members emphasize thesocial benefits of being a member of the Bee.

"It's a social club--there's no question aboutthat," Stewart says.

Bee members meet weekly for Friday afternoonlunches at Sandrine's, a French bistro on HolyokeSt. The club also sponsors a private formal everysemester, punch events and dinners and luncheonsfor past and current club members, according toHoermann and other Bee members.

Members pay dues to the organization whichseveral inductees estimated to be about $300 persemester. Hoermann would not disclose the specificamount.

According to Bross, the initiation process,which occurred in early December, included a dayon which members-to-be were asked to wear yellowoutfits and another day on which a black outfitwith touches of yellow was suggested. Those beinginitiated participated in a scavenger hunt andeach donated her favorite book to the club'scollection. The initiation concluded with acelebratory dinner in the North End.

Hoermann says events such as these could notdevelop a sense of closeness among members if theclub had a larger membership.

"Part of the reason why it's such a wonderfulexperience is because you get to know everyone. Ifthe club had 150 members that would be harder toaccomplish," Hoermann says.

"The ambition of the club is not be elitist,"she adds. "It's ambition is to be the exactopposite."

Lipson says other women interested in the clubslike the Bee should form other organizationsmodeled after it.

"Harvard's campus needs more spots like the Beebecause it's a small club and it has to be limitedin its membership," Lipson says.

Outside the Colony

The club's efforts to be inclusive fail toconvince everyone.

One sophomore--who says she believes she waspunched only because she went to boardingschool--was unhappy with the tone of punch events.

"Everyone was so competitive about getting in,"the sophomore says.

Redmond says she had reservations about the Beebefore she attended the event but went to become"educated."

"There was a lot of schmoozing, and it wasvery superficial. It just wasn't my kind ofscene," Redmond says.

Women who chose not to join the club alsocriticize other aspects of punch process.

"The fact that they punch so many people andlet it be known that only a few get in--they'retrying to make it elite," says the sophomore whoasked not to be named. She attended two punchevents before deciding she did not want to be inthe club.

But Bee members say those women who only cometo one punch event have not really given theorganization a chance to prove itself fully.

Stewart points out that several people chose todrop out of the club midway through the punch,which she says helps to explain the small numberof individuals who were initiated last month.

"It's not a selective, she-doesn'tfit-our-image type of punch," Stewart says, notingthat she herself went to a public high school inColumbus, Ga.

"I have absolutely no connections," she says.

Hoermann says club members are encouraged topunch women they know in several differentcapacities.

"There are people who will punch people fromtheir high school, but then there are also peoplewho will punch from the women they know throughthe [Institute of Politics] or their classes," shesays. "Obviously, people will punch who they know,but the punch tries to be as broad as possible."

Bee members also say the club is asrepresentative as it can be given the pool it hasto choose from.

"Harvard is obviously not the mostrepresentative," Stewart says. "The members of theclub are representative of the different kinds ofpeople at Harvard."

But many of the women who were punched but didnot join the organization say their decisions werebased on doubts about the Bee's commitment todiversity.

"They punch a lot of diverse people. The oneswho got in are the ones that you would expect toget in," says the sophomore who asked to remainanonymous.

She says she primarily saw members of thewomen's squash team at the punch events and womenshe knew form boarding school.

"I'm sure they take some people who didn't goto boarding school," this sophomore says, addingshe became good friends with some of the women shemet during the punch events. "But it's like payingmoney to have people be my friends. These peopleare cool. I just thought that we could be friendswithout being in the Bee."

Redmond says she felt the same way afterattending the first punch event.

"It was more diverse than I thought it to be,but I'd hesitate to characterize the Bee as adiverse organization," she says.

But Stewart says being admitted into the Bee isno different than becoming a member of severalother Harvard's extracurricular organizations.

"Just as when you're trying to become part ofor move up in any other students organization atHarvard, somewhere, somehow you have to impresssomebody," she says.

"It's meritocratic for its purposes," Stewartsays. "The purpose of the Bee is to have asocially engaging atmosphere."

Although Hoermann would not comment on thedetails of the punch process, the sophomore memberwho asked to remain anonymous says she was toldmembership is determined by consensus.

"The club is about people who can support otherpeople. We're not looking for a homogeneous groupof women," Hoermann says. "The reason I love theclub is because it's a dynamic group of women.Personally, when I'm thinking about who I wouldlike to share this experience with, I think on anindividual basis."

One of the Guys?

Without a building or a history of illustriousalumni, the Bee has struggled to become a campuspresence.

Douglas W. Sears '69, who is chair of theInterclub Council, says for the last five years,the Bee's leadership has been invited toparticipate in council meetings.

The Interclub Council, the final club'sgraduate board which sets club-wide policies,includes one representative of each final club.The Council meets three or four times each years,Sears says. Membership in the council would putthe Bee on equal footing with the male finalclubs.

Sears says "the Bee members have never chosento be bound by those terms set by the InterclubCouncil"--a condition of membership.

One Council regulation prohibits members of oneclub to enter any other than the designated guestrooms when visiting another club.

Sears says he believes this has prevented theBee from joining the Council. "That's notsomething the Bee members would like," he says."The women in the club aren't willing to say thatthey won't go to the Delphic or the Phoenix. Theydon't want their life at the College to berestricted in that way."

A Hive to Call Home

While Hoermann--who was recently electedpresident--says she is still unsure whether theclub will actively search for a building in thecoming year, Sears says the club has always heldup having its own building as a goal.

"The Bee Club has always tried to raise fundswith that in mind," says Sears, adding that twoyears ago the Bee sponsored a fundraiser at theHarvard Club of Boston, under the direction ofthen-Bee president Lipson.

Lipson describes the club's efforts to acquirea building during her term as "ongoing andpersistent."

"Every year it's a new push," she says, addingthat in her years with Bee, "there were momentswhen we thought it was in our hands."

But While Lipson says the organization oftenpinpointed specific buildings in the Square thatcould serve as a club site, those efforts allfailed.

"Everyone [at our fundraiser] was extremelyreceptive, but they needed to see more before theygave money," Lipson says.

Bee alumni, Radcliffe alumni, final clubs andfinal club alumni from whom donations weresolicited wanted proof that the Bee would outlastits failed predecessors, she says.

While several members of the Bee say they feelthat only a building would give them a sense oflegitimacy, Sears says acquiring a building maynot be a realistic possibility.

"We've always tried to help them understandwhat goes into running a club. We've tried toexplain to them that being a landlord is no fun atall," says Sears, adding that the InterclubCouncil has always been supportive of the Beesince its founding.

"Males have always wanted a place of their ownwhere they wouldn't have to compete with women andthis argument has prevailed for women as well,"Sears says.

"When the Bee formed, their freedom ofassociation under the Constitution was beingexercised. No one on the Council objects to that,"he says.

Bee-coming a Presence

Despite problems the Bee has faced inestablishing itself as a legitimate institution,members say they know the Bee is group of womenwith whom they can be comfortable.

"Guys get a lot of advantages from being in theclub," Says the anonymous sophomore member. "Ifthere's nothing going on a Friday night, thenthey can go to their club and drink. Girls don'thave that. It's all about having someplace to go."

Bross agrees, adding that the feeling ofcamaraderie that comes with being a Bee memberwill only increase when the club acquires abuilding.

"I'd love to have a place of my own," Brosssays, recalling a visit she made earlier this yearto a sorority at Dartmouth. "It was so great tosee women controlling the liquor, kicking peopleout of the party and playing pool instead of justwatching the guys play pool. It was good to seewomen in control."CrimsonAmanda L. Burnham

It is no surprise then that accounts of the Beeand its events vary widely. One recently-inductedsophomore described the organization as a "nice,nice group of girls who are articulate, confidentand good role models."

But Kamil E. Redmond '00, who was punched forthe club and decided not to join after attendingthe first punch event, says she only met "anextension of a New York all-girls prep school."

"I could picture these women 40 years latergetting together for tea and crumpets," Redmondsays.

Redmond and others are also quick to bemoanwhat they perceive as the club's lack of ethnic orsocioeconomic diversity. Redmond says she believesshe may have been punched because, as a blackwoman, she could add diversity to theorganization.

In the face of such criticism, Hoermann standsby the Bee as one of the few places on campuswhere women can feel a sense of single-sexcamaraderie. But while few question the importanceof a support network for females on campus, manyquestion whether gender is the only prerequisitefor membership in the Bee.

From Sewing to Socializing

More than a century ago, the Bee had a moredefined purpose.

During the Civil War, the women of Cambridgeformed a sewing bee--a circle of women whoconvened weekly to sew uniforms for the Unionsoldiers. Members naturally formed friendshipsover the long hours spent together working, andwhen the war ended, the group continued to meet asa book club and social outlet.

The Bee, as it came to be known, survived untilthe beginning of the century, before it wasinterrupted by the first World War.

In the late 1980s, a group of Harvard womendecided they wanted a female version of theall-male final clubs already on campus. Deborah E.Lipson '95, a former Bee president, says aRadcliffe alum told the budding organization ofthe Civil War group and the 14 founding membersadopted the name "the Bee."

Lipson says the club was originally formed as asocial outlet.

"It never felt like a sorority, but it was morea group of women who were looking for otherinteresting women to talk to," Lipson says."Nothing was required, nothing was expected frommembers. You got out what you put in."

In those days, Lipson says Bee activitiesranged from weekly coffees to an annual boozecruise with informal club lunches on the side.

"I don't think people realized the type offriendships that were being made," Lipson says."There were people making connections that wouldlast a lifetime."

Still, Lipson says the Bee decision to keep theclub a secret initially led to a checkeredreception on campus.

"Their attitude at the time was to keep thingsquiet until they felt secure enough to go public,"Lipson says, explaining that attempts to formother female clubs had failed in the past. "Itsort of came off as being super-snobby,super-exclusive, kind of cagey."

Bee All That You Can Bee

Today, club members say that negative--andinaccurate--stereotype persists.

While still a small group, the club, whichbegan with 14 founding members, inducted 22undergraduate women in last semester's punch.

"The new officers seem to say this is themoment that the club can start making money whichwould lead to having a house and being able to domore things," says Medora S. Bross '00, a recentlyinducted member.

And Bee members say they are proud to be partof the organization.

"I never thought I would join a sorority-typeorganization, but I was just impressed with thepeople," says Beth A. Stewart '00, president ofthe Undergraduate Council. "I liked the fact thatwe were all compatible."

"I have the same distaste for meaningless,hollow talk that most people do," she adds. "Theconversations were less superficial than I thoughtthey would be."

Hoermann says the mix of women make the Beesuccessful as a resource for their members.

"The attitude right now in the Bee is to form asupport network for each other, to learn about thelives of others we wouldn't have met were it notfor this group," Hoermann says. "We're trying todo something positive."

And Bee members also laud the more tangiblebenefits that come with being a member of theorganization.

"It's an opportunity to meet each other, makeconnections and network for the future," says onesophomore who recently joined the Bee. "They don'tusually accept people that don't look like theyare going someplace."

Lipson says she is always willing to helpcurrent and former Bee members, explaining thatannual dinners and luncheons help her stay intouch with the organization.

"I've helped people get jobs on Wall Streetthrough Bee connections," Lipson says.

A greater number of club members emphasize thesocial benefits of being a member of the Bee.

"It's a social club--there's no question aboutthat," Stewart says.

Bee members meet weekly for Friday afternoonlunches at Sandrine's, a French bistro on HolyokeSt. The club also sponsors a private formal everysemester, punch events and dinners and luncheonsfor past and current club members, according toHoermann and other Bee members.

Members pay dues to the organization whichseveral inductees estimated to be about $300 persemester. Hoermann would not disclose the specificamount.

According to Bross, the initiation process,which occurred in early December, included a dayon which members-to-be were asked to wear yellowoutfits and another day on which a black outfitwith touches of yellow was suggested. Those beinginitiated participated in a scavenger hunt andeach donated her favorite book to the club'scollection. The initiation concluded with acelebratory dinner in the North End.

Hoermann says events such as these could notdevelop a sense of closeness among members if theclub had a larger membership.

"Part of the reason why it's such a wonderfulexperience is because you get to know everyone. Ifthe club had 150 members that would be harder toaccomplish," Hoermann says.

"The ambition of the club is not be elitist,"she adds. "It's ambition is to be the exactopposite."

Lipson says other women interested in the clubslike the Bee should form other organizationsmodeled after it.

"Harvard's campus needs more spots like the Beebecause it's a small club and it has to be limitedin its membership," Lipson says.

Outside the Colony

The club's efforts to be inclusive fail toconvince everyone.

One sophomore--who says she believes she waspunched only because she went to boardingschool--was unhappy with the tone of punch events.

"Everyone was so competitive about getting in,"the sophomore says.

Redmond says she had reservations about the Beebefore she attended the event but went to become"educated."

"There was a lot of schmoozing, and it wasvery superficial. It just wasn't my kind ofscene," Redmond says.

Women who chose not to join the club alsocriticize other aspects of punch process.

"The fact that they punch so many people andlet it be known that only a few get in--they'retrying to make it elite," says the sophomore whoasked not to be named. She attended two punchevents before deciding she did not want to be inthe club.

But Bee members say those women who only cometo one punch event have not really given theorganization a chance to prove itself fully.

Stewart points out that several people chose todrop out of the club midway through the punch,which she says helps to explain the small numberof individuals who were initiated last month.

"It's not a selective, she-doesn'tfit-our-image type of punch," Stewart says, notingthat she herself went to a public high school inColumbus, Ga.

"I have absolutely no connections," she says.

Hoermann says club members are encouraged topunch women they know in several differentcapacities.

"There are people who will punch people fromtheir high school, but then there are also peoplewho will punch from the women they know throughthe [Institute of Politics] or their classes," shesays. "Obviously, people will punch who they know,but the punch tries to be as broad as possible."

Bee members also say the club is asrepresentative as it can be given the pool it hasto choose from.

"Harvard is obviously not the mostrepresentative," Stewart says. "The members of theclub are representative of the different kinds ofpeople at Harvard."

But many of the women who were punched but didnot join the organization say their decisions werebased on doubts about the Bee's commitment todiversity.

"They punch a lot of diverse people. The oneswho got in are the ones that you would expect toget in," says the sophomore who asked to remainanonymous.

She says she primarily saw members of thewomen's squash team at the punch events and womenshe knew form boarding school.

"I'm sure they take some people who didn't goto boarding school," this sophomore says, addingshe became good friends with some of the women shemet during the punch events. "But it's like payingmoney to have people be my friends. These peopleare cool. I just thought that we could be friendswithout being in the Bee."

Redmond says she felt the same way afterattending the first punch event.

"It was more diverse than I thought it to be,but I'd hesitate to characterize the Bee as adiverse organization," she says.

But Stewart says being admitted into the Bee isno different than becoming a member of severalother Harvard's extracurricular organizations.

"Just as when you're trying to become part ofor move up in any other students organization atHarvard, somewhere, somehow you have to impresssomebody," she says.

"It's meritocratic for its purposes," Stewartsays. "The purpose of the Bee is to have asocially engaging atmosphere."

Although Hoermann would not comment on thedetails of the punch process, the sophomore memberwho asked to remain anonymous says she was toldmembership is determined by consensus.

"The club is about people who can support otherpeople. We're not looking for a homogeneous groupof women," Hoermann says. "The reason I love theclub is because it's a dynamic group of women.Personally, when I'm thinking about who I wouldlike to share this experience with, I think on anindividual basis."

One of the Guys?

Without a building or a history of illustriousalumni, the Bee has struggled to become a campuspresence.

Douglas W. Sears '69, who is chair of theInterclub Council, says for the last five years,the Bee's leadership has been invited toparticipate in council meetings.

The Interclub Council, the final club'sgraduate board which sets club-wide policies,includes one representative of each final club.The Council meets three or four times each years,Sears says. Membership in the council would putthe Bee on equal footing with the male finalclubs.

Sears says "the Bee members have never chosento be bound by those terms set by the InterclubCouncil"--a condition of membership.

One Council regulation prohibits members of oneclub to enter any other than the designated guestrooms when visiting another club.

Sears says he believes this has prevented theBee from joining the Council. "That's notsomething the Bee members would like," he says."The women in the club aren't willing to say thatthey won't go to the Delphic or the Phoenix. Theydon't want their life at the College to berestricted in that way."

A Hive to Call Home

While Hoermann--who was recently electedpresident--says she is still unsure whether theclub will actively search for a building in thecoming year, Sears says the club has always heldup having its own building as a goal.

"The Bee Club has always tried to raise fundswith that in mind," says Sears, adding that twoyears ago the Bee sponsored a fundraiser at theHarvard Club of Boston, under the direction ofthen-Bee president Lipson.

Lipson describes the club's efforts to acquirea building during her term as "ongoing andpersistent."

"Every year it's a new push," she says, addingthat in her years with Bee, "there were momentswhen we thought it was in our hands."

But While Lipson says the organization oftenpinpointed specific buildings in the Square thatcould serve as a club site, those efforts allfailed.

"Everyone [at our fundraiser] was extremelyreceptive, but they needed to see more before theygave money," Lipson says.

Bee alumni, Radcliffe alumni, final clubs andfinal club alumni from whom donations weresolicited wanted proof that the Bee would outlastits failed predecessors, she says.

While several members of the Bee say they feelthat only a building would give them a sense oflegitimacy, Sears says acquiring a building maynot be a realistic possibility.

"We've always tried to help them understandwhat goes into running a club. We've tried toexplain to them that being a landlord is no fun atall," says Sears, adding that the InterclubCouncil has always been supportive of the Beesince its founding.

"Males have always wanted a place of their ownwhere they wouldn't have to compete with women andthis argument has prevailed for women as well,"Sears says.

"When the Bee formed, their freedom ofassociation under the Constitution was beingexercised. No one on the Council objects to that,"he says.

Bee-coming a Presence

Despite problems the Bee has faced inestablishing itself as a legitimate institution,members say they know the Bee is group of womenwith whom they can be comfortable.

"Guys get a lot of advantages from being in theclub," Says the anonymous sophomore member. "Ifthere's nothing going on a Friday night, thenthey can go to their club and drink. Girls don'thave that. It's all about having someplace to go."

Bross agrees, adding that the feeling ofcamaraderie that comes with being a Bee memberwill only increase when the club acquires abuilding.

"I'd love to have a place of my own," Brosssays, recalling a visit she made earlier this yearto a sorority at Dartmouth. "It was so great tosee women controlling the liquor, kicking peopleout of the party and playing pool instead of justwatching the guys play pool. It was good to seewomen in control."CrimsonAmanda L. Burnham