Awesome. As a graduate of an elite private school (4th generation, no less) I can appreciate the appeal of “elitism” and also kinda laugh at how inherently toothless the concept is. The younger brother of a classmate of mine was a Nobel Prize winner. Well, that’s nice. I’m sure he’s a lovely person, but the person I am truly impressed by is someone I’ve known since the age of 4 (we were both Lifers at said school, (be still my heart)) who has been flat on their back for decades due to a serious degenerative illness and who is one of the most fun and enjoyable to be around classmates anyone could possibly wish to have. I won’t demean this person with phrases like “such an inspiration.” But the word “elite” is ludicrous when held up against my friend’s life.

As to secret societies: my non-famous, utterly fabulous and talented husband graduated from 2 Ivy League schools. As an undergraduate freshman he discovered a mysterious tower on campus that had no apparent entry—no way to get in. He poked around, climbed a random wall, and discovered a hidden elevator, which he took to the top. There he found a meeting room. Imagine! A room! With actual chairs!

As a senior, he was specifically sought out to join this secret enclave. He accepted, and the initiation was, in his words, “underwhelming.” At the time, he felt honored, but, hey, he was 20 and would have much preferred a stable relationship with a smart, hot girlfriend (like the woman he happily married later).

My credo: Awww, You belong to a secret society. Now isn’t that just as sweet as pie.