Shawn Collins' Blog ⋆ Affiliate marketing and other stuff from Shawn Collins, co-founder of Affiliate Summit.

Spring Break 1993 – 1,200 Mile Road Trip to Key West

August 12, 2026 by Shawn Collins

I was in college for 10 semesters and a summer session, but I only managed to go on a Spring Break trip for my very last year (I spent my first Spring Break doing community service). As soon as classes ended, six or seven of us piled into “Big Joe’s” station wagon to head on 95 South for about 24 hours.

We were all tight on cash, so flying was never an option. So, our way there was by car, and we packed as many people and their bags in as possible for the 1,200-plus-mile journey from College Park, MD, to Key West, FL.

Most of the drive is a blur at this point, but I do remember everyone being pretty psyched about stopping at South of the Border, which was near the border of North Carolina and South Carolina.

Otherwise, the driving highlight was Big Joe sticking his hand out the window at each state line and shouting, “First one to Virginia,” “First one to North Carolina,” etc. But, as we waited at a stoplight before entering Florida, one of the guys with us jumped out of the car and ran to the Florida state line and announced, “First one to Florida.”

Big Joe was pissed, and we all laughed in our delirium. We actually thought we were fairly close to Key West at that point. Little did we know that we were still over 500 miles away.

When we arrived, we found our home for the next week, one of the cheap, two-story tourist motels. I think there were 8 or so people staying in the room, so we decided to make it first-come, first-served each night for the two beds. Everyone else got a spot on the floor.

Our first move after dumping our bags in the room was to go out and rent scooters. To this day, I don’t know how none of us got into an accident, because we were young and stupid and driving drunk all over the island for a week. The rest of the spring breakers were, too.

After a night or two on the floor, I decided that I would stay out as late as I could each night, and then migrate from the floor to a bed as the bed guys woke up. And I’d sleep in some version of comfort until the afternoon.

My late-night tradition after the bars was to stop by a gas station for a box of fried chicken and a 40 of malt liquor. I don’t remember the brand, but it was whichever was cheapest. I’d take my feast to the Southernmost Point and enjoy it before going for one more lap around the island.

After a day or two of driving the scooter around, I realized I needed some sunglasses to protect my eyes from bugs and dirt. I went to a store and bought a pair of Ray-Bans on my credit card. This may be hard to believe, but I still have those Ray-Bans. I think they are my oldest possession.

They came in handy that week, and I still use them, though I don’t wear sunglasses very often.

I don’t remember ever being on the small Key West beaches during the trip, but we’d wheel in coolers to the motel pool and spend a ton of daylight time floating around and enjoying cheap beer.

At night, we’d go to the bars I’d heard about from older Pi Kappa Alpha brothers or in Jimmy Buffett songs. The one I was most excited to visit was Capt. Tony’s.

Unfortunately, my stop at that bar was brief, because when I went to the men’s room and saw the long lines, I copied some other guys and tried using the sink. The bouncers didn’t like that, and I ended up getting tossed.

The drive back to college at the end of Spring break wasn’t nearly as fun as the drive to Key West. All I had in front of me at this point was a couple more months of classes, exams, and then graduation.

It was a really fun week, and I wish I had the funds to go on more than one Spring Break, but I’ll always have this one. I haven’t been back to Key West since 1993, but I do want to go back there soon.

My next time in Key West, I plan to have a bed for every night, and if I do any driving, it would maybe be from Miami. Otherwise, I am flying the whole way.

I Thought There Would Be More College Activism in the 1980s

August 5, 2026 by Shawn Collins

When I was a teenager, I would watch the Woodstock documentary whenever it was on PBS. Those days seemed so passionate and politically charged, and I wished I were around for it.

As Country Joe and the Fish came on stage to sing the “I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-to-Die Rag,” the lyrics would take me back to those protests against the Vietnam War.

“And it’s one, two, three, what are we fighting for?

Don’t ask me I don’t give a damn

Next stop is Vietnam.

And it’s five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain’t no time to wonder why,

Whoopie! We’re all gonna die!”

I’d grown up hearing my dad play records with protest songs from the likes of Phil Ochs, Pete Seeger, and the Weavers, and it had a big impression on me.

I cared about the world and wanted to make a difference. So much of the music I was into was railing against Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher.

I was deep into stopping apartheid in South Africa, calling attention to the Troubles in Northern Ireland, and fighting for human rights all over, protesting animal experimentation, and being outraged by U.S. military intervention in Central America.

I even spent a year not eating meat after getting radicalized by the Smiths’ “Meat is Murder” album.

When I discovered Billy Bragg on MTV’s 120 Minutes, I raced out to get his “Talking With the Taxman About Poetry” album, as well as his earlier work, and I loved songs like “Help Save the Youth of America,” “There Is Power in a Union,” and “Between the Wars.”

Activism to Apathy

When I got to the University of Maryland in fall 1988, I was sure it was going to be just like the grainy videos I’d seen of college campuses in the 60s and early 70s.

I’m sure there was activism going on, but I didn’t see it anywhere. I went to the various events for freshmen about campus organizations, and the only groups I saw that looked interesting were fraternities, and they cited philanthropy as a core part of their groups. That was cool.

So, I rushed and pledged Pi Kappa Alpha during my first semester, and while I kept listening to my music about various causes, I wasn’t really doing anything about it.

When the first Gulf War came along, I was sure that was going to be the moment when I could join protesters on campus. I’d heard how on May 1, 1970, there was a rally in front of McKeldin Library at the University of Maryland that turned into a nearly two-week violent protest after President Nixon announced expanding the war into Cambodia.

But 1990 was a long way from 1970 in College Park, MD. Some modest protests happened, but it wasn’t the scale I was anticipating.

By 1992, I did the most politically radical thing I’d done in my college years and voted for Bill Clinton and Al Gore. Before the general election, I went to a rally on campus where I shook Al Gore’s hand and got a Clinton/Gore sign to put in my frat house room window.

I wanted to make a bigger impact, but it never happened; that election did usher in an exciting new day when the decision-makers weren’t all older than my grandparents.

Fraternity Rag Sheets: Brotherly Love and Hate

July 22, 2026 by Shawn Collins

It was the fall 1988 Christmas/Graduation party at the Pi Kappa Alpha chapter at the University of Maryland, where I first saw a fraternity rag sheet. As brothers and their dates mingled and downed drinks, a pile of photocopied, stapled pages appeared.

The front page read, “The Four Pi’s,” and everyone raced over to read the latest edition, which was written by the graduating seniors to roast the brothers who still had more time left in college.

Now, I have the old copies of ragsheets, but I am not going to show the contents of them, because most of the stuff in there didn’t age well.

But the issues of the Four Pi’s typically had columns of what was “In” and “Out” for that semester, as well as “clubs” that made fun of brothers for how they dressed, dumb stuff they’d done, where they would be in ten years, etc.

One of those predictions that was pretty close was for Scott Van Pelt, and it said he’d be doing color commentary on NBC. About ten years after graduation, he was finishing a stint on the Golf Channel and off to ESPN, where he still is today.

As I paged through that first issue I’d seen, I saw my name came up in the “America’s Most Wanted Club,” because I’d gotten arrested at our pledge camping trip.

The issues of the Four Pi’s that came out at the fall graduation parties had the typical trash talk, as well as “stocking stuffer,” where the seniors left things behind for brothers.

I was usually a little anxious at the graduation parties about what might be in the rag sheets about me.

Typically, the worst I got was being on a list of guys who were “whipped” by their girlfriends. There were funny digs here and there towards me, but some other guys would get destroyed by words.

By the time the graduation party for spring 1993 came around, I was happy to get my chance to work on the Four Pi’s with the other graduating seniors, and we put out the biggest edition during my time in the house. We had lots to say.

In the end, there were laughs, feelings hurt, and memories.

The Fake Advice Column That Got Me in Legal Trouble

July 15, 2026 by Shawn Collins

I published four issues of a Greek life newspaper at the University of Maryland called The Greek Times, and I got a nastygram from a lawyer about content in the third issue.

It was an advice column that caused the trouble. One of the staff members, Kendra, would answer questions submitted to the newspaper. They were usually submitted by me and a couple of my friends.

But she said she received one directly to answer in the third issue, so I printed it verbatim.

The problem was that she included the phone number of someone she had a beef with, and that person contacted a lawyer after the Greek Times issue came out.

I was doing my usual routines, going to class, stopping by the IFC office, etc., and saw that there was a piece of mail for me. And not the fun kind of mail.

Uh oh, this was how I found out I had unknowingly printed another person’s phone number in the newspaper, and she apparently received harassing phone calls because of it.

So, I called Kendra up and let her know that her most recent advice column was the last one. And I sent a letter back to the lawyer to apologize.

Fortunately, that’s as far as it went. The next and final issue of the Greek Times featured a new advice columnist, my fraternity brother, Aaron Falcione (aka Ernst).

This one didn’t get me in any trouble, so that was nice. I really enjoyed putting out the newspaper, and it was helpful in my development and real-world experience with budgets, deadlines, staff management, and dealing with a lawyer.

My Hypocritical Role in a Responsible Drinking Greek Organization

July 8, 2026 by Shawn Collins

My experience at the University of Maryland was akin to one of Winston Churchill’s speeches. Specifically a radio address he gave in October 1939 about World War II when he said, “It’s a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma…”

You see, I spent a lot of my five years as an undergrad drinking alcohol to a stupid degree. The blackout kind where I wouldn’t remember what happened the night before.

Sometimes, it was due to hazing. There were times when I had to drink lots of cheap gin through a beer bong. Some of those nights ended with me passing out in random patches of grass on campus.

As I got older, I matured a little, and only occasionally did really stupid things like stumbling around on the roof of the frat house or shooting out the windows of a neighboring apartment.

But I also did a lot of extracurricular things that a responsible student would do, such as running a newspaper, working multiple jobs to pay for college, and holding a variety of offices.

One of those roles was as the Public Relations Chair of GAMMA. (Greeks Advocating Mature Management of Alcohol). I was aware of the irony at the time, but I also wanted to do some good, add to my resume, and be a positive representative of Pi Kappa Alpha.

In the spring of 1990, the University of Maryland chapter of GAMMA ran a fundraiser for SADD (Students Against Drunk Driving), and we raised more money than any other university in the country.

This milestone resulted in representatives from GMAC and Pontiac presenting University of Maryland President Kirwan with a $15,000 check for the Student Activities Fund during halftime of the homecoming football game.

It was exciting to win the top prize and have that fat check go to the Student Activities Fund. On a sidenote, it’s cool to look back and see the smaller Byrd Stadium before all of the additions in later years. Look at that packed crowd!

Also, in the fall of 1990, I organized a GAMMA kickball tournament to publicize National Collegiate Alcohol Awareness Week. It was open to all student groups, and I promoted it across campus kiosks and dorms, but only fraternity and sorority pledge classes entered.

While I had hoped for non-Greek representation in the tournament, it was still a lot of wholesome, alcohol-free fun. And the Pi Kappa Alpha pledge class won the whole tournament.

I don’t have the scoresheet handy, but if I recall correctly, team captain Joe Vettori had the game-winning kick with a bases-clearing double.

I’d like to think that my involvement in GAMMA and other groups on campus provided some karmic balance to my dopey hijinks.

This post originally appeared at fraternitypledge.com.

Cisco, Private Stock, BB Guns, and Police

July 1, 2026 by Shawn Collins

Hank was my big brother in Pi Kappa Alpha, and we hung out a lot in college and sometimes got into mischief. This one night in August 1990 was one of those times.

It was the day that two new roommates were moving in with my friend John and me to our Knox Box. There was Chris, who was in PiKA, and his friend and future PiKA, Dan from back home.

Nothing much was going on, so Hank and I picked up a couple of 40s of Private Stock malt liquor (“The malt liquor with the imported taste”) and two bottles of Cisco (aka Liquid Crack).

Cisco would get us pretty blitzed by itself, but it was rough to drink down, so we chased it with malt liquor to make things easier and to enhance our buzz journey.

I think Chris and Dan must have gone to sleep early, because they were already in bed when the Cisco and Private Stock kicked in. In our altered states, Hank and I decided it would be a good idea to take out our BB guns.

Now, since I spent 1989 doing 500 hours of community service, you might think I’d try to avoid doing stupid things that could get me in trouble. That was usually the case, but the combination of Cisco and Private Stock would take me to a place where bad ideas sounded awesome.

So, we had our BB guns, and there was some beef with the guys in the apartment just over a hedge from us. They weren’t home; we were bored, and one of us thought it would be fun to open a window in the living room and take aim at the other apartment.

My conservative estimate is that we unloaded 100 or more BBs into that apartment. The windows were like Swiss cheese. So was their TV. We had a time, and it only stopped when we heard people coming back from the bars.

We quickly closed the window and turned off the lights as the yelling started from these guys, who had walked in on what looked like the crazy shooting scene at the end of True Romance.

That was the end of the carnage. Hank headed off to his apartment, and I planned to get some sleep after hiding my BB gun under some dirty laundry.

But shortly after, there was loud knocking on our front door. I figured it was the neighbors, so I messed up my hair like I’d been sleeping for a long time and walked out, rubbing my sleepy eyes, to answer the door.

It wasn’t the neighbors. It was an officer from the College Park (MD) Police Department. I guess the neighbor guys concluded that only our apartment had the line of sight to obliterate their windows.

I answered the door and turned on the living room lights. The police officer walked in and asked if I had been shooting BBs at my neighbor’s apartment. I acted appalled that he would even ask me that question.

Then, he glanced down at our coffee table, which happened to have dozens of loose BBs on it.

He looked at me, and then at the BBs, and back at me again. I scrambled to come up with a good story.

“One of my roommates just moved out. He worked at a bike shop (which was true), and he sometimes worked on bikes in the apartment. Those are ball bearings from bikes.”

What a horseshit story, but he bought it. He left, and I went to sleep.

But that wasn’t the end of it. The next day, I started getting phone calls from the landlord of the apartment next door. I answered the first time, and he was screaming and yelling that he would have to hire a glazier (I had to look in my Webster’s Dictionary to find out what that was).

I denied it and said it must have been someone hiding behind the hedges, but I hadn’t seen anything because I was sleeping. I hung up, and it was over as far as I was concerned.

The calls didn’t stop, but they did go straight to our answering machine after that. The landlord was increasingly hostile and threatening. He claimed he ran a ballistics test, and the BBs in the apartment he owned matched our “ball bearings.” I knew that was not true because the officer hadn’t taken any of our BBs with him, and I walked up to 7-Eleven and threw them all out the next day.

So, I did what any Gen X delinquent would do… I made a mixtape of a bunch of Hank and my favorite punk and new wave songs. In between the songs, I put clips from the voicemails.

Eventually, the landlord gave up trying to collect money for the damages, and I largely behaved for the rest of that year that I lived in the Knox Box before moving on to the fraternity house.

Welcome to the Knox Box, Chris and Dan. Thanks for not moving out the next day.

I Started a Greek Life Newspaper in College

June 24, 2026 by Shawn Collins

I always enjoyed writing, and the first time I saw my name in print was for my elementary school newspaper. It was just a photocopied publication of maybe six pages, but I loved being a part of it.

When middle school came around, we didn’t have a paper, but we did in high school, and I spent two years writing for the high school newspaper. My articles were mostly about music in high school. I remember one of the articles was all about how outraged I was that the band New Model Army could not tour in the US, because the government thought they were too subversive or something.

Also, during high school, I published a zine called A Silver Lining. It started out as a U2 fanzine, but over time it evolved to cover local punk shows, reviews of records that were sent to me, and cartoons from the guitarist of the Dead Milkmen (we were pen pals).

I also had some features in there. My two favorite items in A Silver Lining were a rambling multi-page letter from Charles Manson and Mad Libs from Evel Knievel. I’d asked Manson what he thought of U2, and he went on about government conspiracies and Abbie Hoffman. The Mad Libs from the legendary daredevil were typical answers, but it was awesome that he sent them back.

Pre-Journalism and College Newspapers

Anyhow, by the time I went to college, I still wanted to write. I started with a major in Pre-Journalism (my first of three majors I sampled), and I headed up to the Diamondback newspaper office at the University of Maryland. I was ready to be the guy writing about music. But they told me they wanted an article about the marching band to see my style, and I walked out and never returned.

A year or so later, I got involved with a newspaper called the Greek Insider and wrote a handful of articles. But that paper closed down after some key people graduated.

That door closing gave me an idea. Maybe I could start up my own newspaper on Greek life at the University of Maryland. So, I pitched it to the Interfraternity Council (IFC) and the Panhellenic Association (PHA) that if they covered the printing costs, I’d handle everything else.

They said yes, and the Greek Times was born.

Birth of the Greek Times

That was the easy part. After the yes, I had to figure out how to put together a newspaper. To that point, all of my college papers had been written on a non-electric typewriter that I’d had from my zine days. I had to figure out how to use a Macintosh SE in the campus computer lab.

Someone told me about a program called PageMaker for laying out the newspaper, but the software was not installed on the computers in the lab. So, I had to use MacWrite II and set the column width to a couple of inches so the pages would have four columns across.

After I entered the content, I’d have to cut each headline and column with an X-acto knife and then paste them onto these big boards. It was a painstaking, imperfect process, but I enjoyed it.

While I liked writing for the Greek Insider, I wanted to do something different. I was interested in a more lifestyle-focused publication. It had fraternity and sorority news, but also a healthy share of fun content.

The first issue featured some typical items like a Greek Week preview, coverage of rush, new Order of Omega members, and Greeks who were recently lavaliered, pinned, and engaged.

But I also added in the results of a student survey on opinions of Greeks from non-Greeks on campus, an advice column, my interview with Joe Jack Talcum of the Dead Milkmen, and a think piece on Cisco (aka Liquid Crack). Plus, there were as many ads as I could fit in there, since I got to keep the ad revenue.

The students liked it, but the IFC and PHA weren’t as keen on the content. They wanted more serious coverage of Greek life.

With issue two, I got more serious by running the results of a sex survey, a hype article on the upcoming IFC Ball, an expanded advice column (all questions were fake and made up by me and given to the advice columnist, Kendra, to answer), “vox populi” (voice of the people) with the question, “What was your worst Spring Break experience,” and coverage of going to the Vous to get drunk on a snow day.

I also reprinted an article to bring awareness to students about date rape.

The second issue had another warm reception by students, and again I was asked to focus more on positive PR for the Greek system.

I said yes, and then put a photo of one of my naked brothers (it was censored) on the cover after he’d been honored as the Silver Sweetheart of Alpha Phi. There was also an article about an acoustic duo called Sean & Dave (my fraternity brother Sean Pelan and Dave Peter, who was in SAE), a full page for the ridiculous advice column, some letters to the editor, a goofy cartoon from a fraternity brother, and an article about Smurfing (writing all over someone when they have passed out).

I did include some serious content… a reprinted article about the legal bias against rape victims.

I was getting great feedback from fraternity and sorority members, and again, I got an earful from the Interfraternity Council and the Panhellenic Association.

It seemed like they were losing their patience with me, so I went serious for the next cover and ran an interview with Terry Zacker, the University Director of Greek Life, as well as schedules for fraternity and sorority rush.

But also went random again with advice on killing roaches, a threatening letter from a lawyer about a previous advice column answer, a new advice columnist (my fraternity brother, Aaron Falcione), a breakdown of different types of beer, and another cartoon.

At that point, the plug was pulled on the Greek Times. The IFC and PHA decided to go in a different, more serious direction, and I was pushed out after four glorious issues.

Originally published at https://shawncollins512.substack.com.

The Day a Car Hit a Fraternity Brother

June 17, 2026 by Shawn Collins

On a sunny fall morning in 1991, sirens jolted me awake. I nearly fell out of my loft bed in room 7 of the University of Maryland’s Pi Kappa Alpha house, scrambling wildly to see what the chaos was about.

The scene outside didn’t look good. Someone was on the ground in front of a car, surrounded by flashing police, fire, and EMS vehicles. A crowd of Pi Kappa Alpha brothers spilled out onto the street and lawn.

I rushed downstairs to get more information and find out what happened. It was one of our brothers in the street, and I heard that the guys had been playing football on the front lawn, and he ran into the street to catch a ball. At the same time, a car was driving up Knox Road and hit him.

Outside the house, everyone seemed concerned and tried to get details from the first responders, but inside, the vibe was different. The guys were laughing as they peeked out the windows from the chapter room at the chaotic scene.

That was strange to me, but then I walked over to a bunch of brothers who were huddled around a video camera. They had captured the accident on film and were playing it back.

But why did they think it was funny that one of our brothers was hit by a car?

Well, it turns out it was all planned. They’d even filmed a couple of test runs. I hadn’t noticed when I went outside, but it was also one of our brothers who was driving the car.

The whole thing was faked. I watched and then got the real story. The brother who was hit by the car was supposed to go to National Guard duty for the weekend, and he wanted to get out of it so he could go to a sorority formal.

These idiots all got together and thought it was a good idea to fake a car accident, so this brother could get out of his obligations with the National Guard. And they were ridiculous enough to film it.

So insane and shortsighted to have probably all of the first responders for the town to mobilize for this fake accident.

Greek life detractors love to say that fraternity and sorority members buy their friends. Well, I would like to get a refund on some of them.

Originally published at https://shawncollins512.substack.com.

How I Managed to Break My Nose in College (Without Being in a Fight)

June 10, 2026 by Shawn Collins

It was the night of Friday, October 30, 1992, and we didn’t have a party going on at the fraternity that night. So, I got a handful of brothers and the pledge class and headed to the Cellar, a beer bar at the University of Maryland that was the easiest to get into for underage students.

The bar was pretty dead when we got there, and we took turns buying pitchers and dancing. After an hour or so, more people started filtering in, and the dance floor got increasingly more crowded.

I was a few beers in and feeling good when a fist came out of nowhere and smashed me square on the nose. I never saw it coming. This guy who threw the sucker punch never said a word to me.

All I knew was that it hurt like hell and I couldn’t see anything for a few seconds. Then, I realized blood was gushing out of my nose. This guy broke my damn nose. My shirt was covered in blood, and I pinched it to try and stop the blood flow.

Some guys who were with me helped me back to the Pi Kappa Alpha house. It was just around the corner, but my painful face made it hard to navigate. As we walked through the front door, my brother, Mike, and a couple of other guys were there, and he asked what had happened.

I told Mike how a bunch of us were just drinking and dancing at the Cellar, and a random guy threw a sucker punch at me. He told me to go up, change out of my bloody shirt, and come back down.

When I returned to the front door, Mike and Rob, a fraternity brother who played on the University of Maryland hockey team, told me to go with them back to the Cellar. When we got back inside, they asked me to point out who punched me. He was outside the bathrooms with three or four of his brothers, and I let Mike and Rob know.

The next thing I knew, Mike and Rob were throwing hands at all of those guys, and within like 30 seconds, they’d dropped each and every one. I felt better, but still wanted to go back to my room and chill.

Before I could do that, one of the guys in our house said I should go to the hospital and get it looked at. I hopped in his car, and we were off to the emergency room, where we spent the next many hours waiting to be seen.

When I finally got to go back and have a doctor look at me, they spent just a few minutes cleaning me up, putting tape across my face, and said I should ice it often and sleep with my head elevated.

When I got back to my room, I crashed hard until lunchtime. My face looked rough in the mirror. This white piece of tape was holding my nose in place, and everything around it was red, except for under my eyes, both of which were on the way to being black eyes.

We had a Halloween party scheduled that night, and one good thing to come out of all of this was that I figured out my costume… a prizefighter. All I needed was a robe, so that was cool.

That Saturday also happened to be the day I was going to meet my girlfriend’s father for the first time. We made plans for lunch, and I hadn’t mentioned anything to her before meeting up, so she was surprised and concerned when I rolled up with a bashed-in nose.

I was worried her dad would think I was some knucklehead who got into fights regularly, so I apologized when I met him and told him the story. He just laughed and said he was in the Air Force and saw many broken noses from nights at the bar.

The next couple of weeks were very uncomfortable. I couldn’t blow my nose, and when I slept, if my nose even brushed against my pillow, it would make my eyes water from the pain.

But I am a glass half full guy, and I did realize a benefit from this punk surprising me with his cowardly fist. Before the punch, my nose was slightly crooked. After I got punched and then healed, my nose was more or less straight. I’d gotten a free rhinoplasty, so there was a benefit at the end.

Thanks for having my back, Mike and Rob.

Originally published at https://shawncollins512.substack.com.

In 1992, Bill Clinton Got the White House—and I Got the Frat House

June 3, 2026 by Shawn Collins

One of the things that attracted me to Greek life was the opportunity to take on leadership roles. From the start, I was excited to be more than just a brother. I wanted to help, give back, build, learn, and support the brotherhood’s success.

While I was initiated in early 1989, my drive to be a leader in the house was delayed because I spent all of 1989 doing community service when I wasn’t working or studying.

My first roles were in spring 1990 as the public relations person for G.A.M.M.A. (Greeks Advocating the Mature Management of Alcohol), corresponding secretary for Pi Kappa Alpha, the Greek Week booklet chairman, and as a copy editor and staff writer for the Greek Insider newspaper.

Each semester after that, I ran for various offices and served on committees to represent our chapter on campus and gain experience myself.

All of this led up to the spring of 1992, when I decided to run for President of the fraternity. I made some handouts to share with the brothers during the election that highlighted my experience and reasons I should be elected.

As the election drew closer, I made one of the toughest decisions of my fledgling political career. I had scheduled a get-together for brothers and alumni to begin encouraging alumni to come around more and help the active brothers with the chapter.

But after I’d scheduled the event with our alumni, my girlfriend told me her spring formal was on the same night. I knew what I had to do. I told her I was going to the fraternity event and would have to miss the sorority formal. That didn’t go over well.

I thought it would be important to show my priorities to the brothers and alumni, and reinforce how serious I was about becoming President of the chapter. Did skipping the formal help me win the election? I have no idea, but it didn’t hurt.

Well, it hurt my relationship with my girlfriend, but that ended a year later, and I still have the composite from when I was President.

Plus, as President, I got the best room in the fraternity house, and no rent was charged to the President, which was a huge perk for me, as I paid my way through school.

That same spring, a Democratic primary debate was held at the University of Maryland on March 1, 1992. Jerry Brown, Bill Clinton, Tom Harkin, and Paul Tsongas participated in the debate, and afterward, Bill Clinton held a party at the Santa Fe Cafe, which was next to our fraternity house.

My term began at the start of the fall 1992 semester, shortly after Bill Clinton had secured his nomination at the 1992 Democratic National Convention.

I went to a campus rally for Al Gore on September 18, 1992, and got to shake his hand as he passed through the crowd. That day, I got a Clinton/Gore sign and put it in my room window.

My one-semester term concluded shortly before President Clinton was sworn in on January 20, 1993. I accomplished the goals I’d set and was happy with how everything went while I was in office.

Originally published at https://shawncollins512.substack.com.

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: