We are now faced with a deafening question: how does a community construct anew, how does it reconstruct such an ingrained culture of hazing? How do we stop the vicious cycle of midnight beatings, of hospital visits, of hidden bruises, of homicides, of verbal assaults, of scared exclusion, of traditional torture, of quiet shrieks, of patriarchal masculinity and femininity, of violent tests, of wicked beliefs, of lonely pain, of you and I looking the other way—that recycles with the next group, and recycles and recycles? How do we end hazing?

It will be difficult. The culture of hazing is as old as American higher education. At Harvard and Yale, sophomores used to blow smoke through keyholes of freshmen dorm rooms, strip the freshmen naked, bound and gag them, and then leave them in cemeteries. Freshmen hazing declined as the number of women in higher education rose in the late 19th century, and the practice moved into (and blossomed in) one of the havens of patriarchal masculinity—fraternities—by the early 20th century. “The goal was explicit … to defend a rough-hewn masculinity from the feminizing forces of modern American society,” writes historian Jonathan Zimmerman.

One hundred years later, we are defending and feeding this “rough-hewn masculinity” when we call males “sissies,” “punks,” and “girls” who do not want to or cannot fight, which in turn defends and feeds the violent culture of hazing. One hundred years later, the practice, the culture, the parasite has moved into sororities, bands, and a slew of other student organizations. It is literally and figuratively sucking the verve out of student life in American higher education. Since 1970, nearly 100 college students have died from hazing, most recently at SUNY Geneseo, Prairie View A&M, Cornell, and now FAMU, according to hazing expert Hank Nuwer.