A long-standing movement for Greek Life organizations across college campuses nationwide is the “These Hands Don’t Haze” program. While many fraternities and sororities abide by these rules and provide their members with pleasant experiences, my Greek life experience was quite the opposite of that, and the opposite of what I had hoped. After all, one never expects to join a fraternity that claims not to haze and get hazed, right?

Second semester of my freshman year I attend rush with an eager and open mind and learned of a fraternity that was new to campus. I instantly knew this was the fraternity for me when I spoke with them. The deciding factor that made me put all of my efforts into rushing this colony was a single rule: they will never haze. While this should be the norm for every Greek organization, not an exception to the rule, it was important to see this explicitly stated. You see, I have some surgical scarring and a noticeable physical limitation, though I live a full and active lifestyle. Growing up, before extensive surgery, I experienced bullying in middle school as well as through some of high school. The importance of an anti-hazing statement was a powerful, welcoming message; a commitment that my brothers and I would never do anything to deliberately put one another down.

Throughout the semester, my brothers and I did almost everything together. We got one another in a constructive way if someone wasn’t living up to his potential. I felt like I was among a close group of friends, some of the closest I’d had since swim team. We were a family. I wanted to do better, so in school, I could get into to my major. I finished that semester with a 4.0 GPA, the best I’d ever done in any semester of school. I attributed this to the backing support and brotherly love I received from the fraternity.

Through chapter meetings and the fraternity’s educational program all taught by our national advisor, I learned valuable life lessons, skills, chivalry, and character building traits. Since we were new to campus, we did not host a major philanthropy event. We did participate in events hosted by others, many of which were incredibly fun.

Then, the beginning of my sophomore year is when everything changed. The hazing started. The fraternity was no longer about living out the creed and improving the lives of others. It was about self-promotion. The members believed we needed to raise the profile of the fraternity. This included things like partying with only the “attractive” sororities on campus. The sororities considered to be in the lower tier were shunned. During my time that semester, we did not participate in any philanthropies.

My mother had told me years ago, “If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.” Raised in a family with mutual respect, I am accustomed to voicing my opinion, even when it may be in opposition. I was in disbelief that this new focus on social status could be our true motive. I made my opinion known. Because I voiced my opposition to many of these factors, I was made to feel like I didn’t belong.

The bullying then started. Let me be clear when I say that there is a distinct and obvious difference between playful banter and insults meant to put down and belittle a member. It was at this point that I became a target. A few members began to spread their negative feelings toward me through the fraternity rather than deal with personal issues one-to-one. When we were around alumni or other professional figures, these members pretended to like me and behaved completely different.

It started with posting pictures of me online in an attempt to humiliate me. I wear a leg wrap for longstanding medical reasons. It is likely something I will have to wear for the rest of my life. Frankly, it looks like a sports wrap, and if you didn’t know me, you’d probably assume I had a sprain and wouldn’t think twice about it. Members of the fraternity began taking “snipes” of me walking around campus. They encouraged an award for whoever got the most "snipes" of me. One member posted, “If he does not get rid of that cast, he is getting dropped.” As I protested for them to stop, it became brutal, with escalating nasty comments and threats leveled toward me. Personal attacks do not hold a place in any fraternity or sorority interactions. The vast majority of members neither agreed nor disagreed with the members who chose to participate in this online bullying. They were simply bystanders.

Around the second week of school, I was removed from multiple GroupMe’s. Some of which were the only means of communication for the fraternity to its members. They claimed however that GroupMe’s were “privileges,” not rights. Removing me though made it easier for them to continue the online harassment. When I voiced my objection about this behavior to our national rep, I became public enemy number one. Ridiculous “charges” were made against me through the fraternity’s disciplinary system, saying that I had “compromised the brotherhood” or that I was “attempting to bring the fraternity into disrepute.” None of these charges had any evidence to back them and were delivered to me through a text message, which is completely informal and not the correct procedure required by our bylaws. It was obvious that they either wanted me to drop or get kicked out.

I decided to push back and meet them head on with their bogus complaints, and lack of formal procedure. I was successful in going through mediation with our national rep, who agreed that the charges against me were baseless and not offenses at all. Our chapter president agreed they would be dropped. Even though the situation was resolved in my favor, the thought of dropping crossed my minds. Self-doubt and thoughts of dropping started to creep in. I was terrified. I was terrified of becoming a “dreaded” and “lame” GDI (a GDI or Geed stands for “God Damn Independent” and refers to someone not involved in a social Greek organization).

I was terrified of not hanging out with “the right people” on the weekends. I was terrified of how other Greek members would view me. I was terrified of failing a family legacy. I was terrified of no longer feeling socially relevant. In the end, I told myself this was just a phase and things would soon get better. Little did I know at the time, this would all soon come to an ugly head.

Being a little low on cash one night I decided to DD. It was homecoming weekend and I knew I could make some good money. Late into the night, I received a call as I was already in the process of picking up two sorority women from a fraternity party. The woman on the phone explained the drunken state of her friend. She asked if I would be able to pick her up from a fraternity house, the one I was already at. Not wanting to leave a person in need, and after asking the other two women if it would be ok with them if we waited, I agreed. The drunken woman was then carried down the steps by her friend.

She nearly fell out of my car when trying to get in. The friend and the drunken woman could not tell us where to take her. The friend didn’t know and the woman was so drunk she could not even form complete sentences. All she did was laugh and beg us not to tell the older women in her sorority how drunk she was. Both the women in the car and I agreed that the safest place for her was her chapter house. They suggested she should be dropped off first, so they could help me with her as the safest course of action. I contacted the sorority to see if this was okay and received a single “yes.” We promptly drove her there.

Upon our arrival, one of the women in the back got out to knock on the house door. No one answered. We waited around ten minutes. As the drunken woman realized she could be negatively viewed by her sorority sisters, she began hurling obscenities and screamed at us to take her somewhere else. We all felt she was in no condition to wander off alone, and kept pleading with her to give us an address where we should drop her. She then sobered up enough to provide the address of her friend’s house. Knowing I had other callers plus the two women in the back anxiously waiting, I drove her there straightaway. I then took the other two women home and apologized for the inconvenience. They both told me I’d done the right thing and should be proud of how I handled the situation.

Three days later, I received a text message asking me to come to chapter an hour early to discuss some “things.” When I arrived I found out that I was being brought to the judicial system once again. Many of the earlier charges (the baseless, mediated, and dropped charges) were leveled against me and were once again falsified with no evidence to back them up. One of these claims was from the drunken woman, claiming what was essentially assault.

More ridiculous “charges” were brought forward claiming how “Countless members feel embarrassed having a brother who dresses douche like and brings overall negative feedback onto the fraternity.”. This one made me chuckle. When I look at pictures of the fraternity brothers, we possess much of the same clothing. Don't you like my perfectly acceptable (preppy) clothes? It’s even in the bylaws that these types of differences are not judicial offenses. Where is the evidence of the “negative feedback”? How does something like this even become considered as a charge? The language use in the charge is clearly meant to discriminate and holds no place with the values of a fraternal organization.There were many other claims that had no evidence to back them.Claims such as "Multiple complaints from our sister sororities that Liam is creepy and weird and that (certain) sorority girls felt uncomfortable enough around me to walk away" If it weren't so disturbing that this was an actual charge, it would be laughable. Seriously?! Where is the evidence to back this? when did it happen? Who were the "girls"?

I again approached out national advisor as the colony was bringing up previously mediated charges, but he would not get involved. I was going to have to answer to these charges. If we were to go by our bylaws, there would be a complete and unbiased investigation, with someone assigned to my defense. There was not. By the trial date, I had obtained a statement from one of the women in the car that evening, a well as other statements from people I’d regularly DD’d attesting to my professionalism. I submitted them in my defense. My brothers said that the statements were fake and had been made up. I questioned the numerous procedural errors that had been made A SECOND TIME! The response I received from the judicial members was, “We’re a colony, so we don’t have to follow the bylaws.”. I was floored. Why would we have bylaws if they don’t have to be followed? If they aren’t in effect, how can I even be accused of violating them?

Despite all my preparation, research I’d done studying the bylaws, finding every procedural error, and with eyewitness statements of my innocence, I was voted out. Even though it says in the bylaws that executive board is not for that purpose. What should have been a calm, formal procedure became a shouting match: them against me. The brotherhood had become a pack of wolves, and they were on a frenzied attack.

I felt worthless and betrayed. What happened to brotherhood? Were all these people completely fake friends from the start? All of these people, some of whom I called my close friends were suddenly against me. Not sticking up for me. I’d shared so much with them about myself; many things that I had never told anyone before. As soon as I left that room, the tears came. Every single emotion was pouring out of me all at once: anger, fear, and jealousy. I was angry that they had won when the evidence was so clearly and factually in my favor. I was fearful that people would think I was a creep or I had done something horrible like the false accusations leveled against me. I was jealous that while I had done nothing wrong those, who had violated the creed were still members.

That same night I received texts from members saying, “Sorry it went the way it did. Let me know if you want to talk.” Talk? About what? Why do you all of a sudden hold all this sympathy toward me? Where were you when everything was going down?

After this, I rarely spoke to anyone in the fraternity. Many people, some of whom I had once considered my close friends, ceased communication with me altogether. Some members have randomly stopped me and asked if I was going to rush again. They said that they would, “Put in a good word for me.” What does that even mean? Where was your good word when the brothers were attacking me? And who would want a “good word” from you

I see my former brothers on campus sometimes. Those who smile and wave, flaunting that fake smile. Acting like we’re somehow still friends. Then I see those who are ashamed; who pass by me and can’t even bear to look me in the eye as I stare them down; knowing what happened was wrong. And while I’ve moved on, they will always be bystanders. They will always know they could have spoken up but didn’t. They will always know they gave in to fear and shame, and will always have to question what their brotherhood means in the colony because at any moment, they could be next. Will anyone stand for them? They will always have a nagging fear inside them that they too, may one day endure the wrath of a fake brotherhood that stands for nothing.

Greek life has many positive factors to it, and the vast majority of fraternities and sororities bring about an exceptionally constructive experience. They provide lifelong friendships, service for the community, networking, and leadership opportunities. I recognize that many people do not experience negative issues and respect the positive views of these individuals. I believe that Greek life can be constructive, but when people who join put on a fake image to make it seem like they care about the true purpose, that isn't okay. There are some positive influences my fraternity did have on me that I will always carry with me.

As for me, I’ll continue to take a stand for individuality, following proper procedure, and knowing I walk away with my head held high. I would much rather stand for authenticity on my own two feet, than fall for anything else. At least I know it’s real.