The Horror of Hazing: Remembering the Life of Caleb Wilson

Many questions remain surrounding the death of Caleb Wilson. One thing is for sure, however. The 20-year-old Southern University student did not expect February 27, 2025, to be his last day alive. Sadly, it was after he died from an alleged hazing incident, and now Caleb’s family and friends are left searching for answers and mourning the young man who they said shined his light everywhere.

This story hits close to home for more than one reason. As someone who is involved and invested in the lives and well-being of young people, I understand the overwhelming feeling of fitting in and being a part of something that provides them with a sense of purpose and identity. This tragedy also pulls at my heart because, over 20 years ago, I could have suffered the same fate as young Caleb.

I still remember me and the rest of the newbies, as we were called, standing shoulder to shoulder, unaware of what was happening. We each stood in a line military style, waiting to absorb the insults disguised as compliments and the hard-hitting punches from our brothers. I watched while the first newbie fell to the ground and balled up in the fetal position after taking multiple shots to the stomach. Something felt off about everything I was witnessing, but it also felt necessary for someone yearning for the acceptance of his peers.

So when my turn came, I raised my chin like a man, stuck my chest out like a man, and prepared for the punishment like a man. Five brothers surrounded me with clenched fists and a menacing look in their eyes. The first punch came, then the second one quickly followed. After receiving the third punch, a flip switched in my head and I started to swing back, knocking one of them to the floor. The dorm room went silent, and everyone started looking at each other, unsure what to do next. I could tell they were not expecting a newbie to turn the initiation into a boxing match.

You can’t fight back, I heard a brother shout. You have to stand there and take this beating like a grown-up, another brother said, and so I did. At the time, I thought hazing was a right of passage, a way to build a bond with your brothers, and a symbol of your commitment. Little did I know that it was just another form of bullying and a way to perpetuate cycles of violence because nothing about what happened that night felt safe or like a brotherhood.

Over twenty years ago, a wide-eyed, naive, and unsuspecting young person survived a hazing experience. But many other young people have been unable to do the same. Caleb is just another example of someone who lost his life because the same people he looked up to betrayed his trust.

According to the Hazing Prevention Network, 47% of students come to college having experienced hazing, and 55% of students involved in clubs, teams, or organizations experience hazing. No parent sends their son or daughter off to college expecting to get a call telling them their child will never be coming home again. Nor do they expect to be visiting their child’s grave site before they get to celebrate their graduation ceremony.

These tragic incidents will continue to be commonplace among young people until there is a radical change surrounding the cultural practice of hazing. To prevent more stories like Caleb’s and end hazing once and for all in our communities and college campuses, it will take real work, tough conversations, and a willingness to confront the systems that normalize humiliation and justify pain, tolerance, and conformity as a means for survival.