I came to Tulane excited about college. What I experienced instead was abuse, cruelty, and a complete disregard for my health and wellbeing by people who hid behind tradition and secrecy. The culture within Phi Kappa Sigma was not about bonding or growth. It was about control, humiliation, and power. They knew what they were doing was wrong. They mocked the idea of “no hazing,” pressured silence, and treated serious injuries as inconveniences to be managed rather than emergencies that demanded help.

What happened to me didn’t end at the fraternity house. I am still dealing with the consequences every day. I suffered a severe concussion that changed how my brain works. I deal with chronic pain, light and noise sensitivity, memory issues, anxiety, and PTSD. My academics, my job, my independence, and my sense of security were all taken from me. These are not short-term effects. Doctors have told me that some of these symptoms may last for years, or even for the rest of my life. That is a reality I now have to live with.

Speaking out is not easy. It would be easier to stay quiet. But silence is exactly what allows this kind of behavior to continue. Hazing thrives in darkness. It survives because victims are pressured to stay quiet, because these organizations protect their reputations instead of students. No student should have to choose between belonging and their safety. No parent sends their child to college expecting them to come home injured, traumatized, or permanently damaged. And no organization should be allowed to operate if it cannot protect the people it claims to care about.

My hope is that by telling the truth about what happened to me, Tulane and its students will think twice before normalizing abuse, administrators will take hazing seriously, and fraternities like Phi Kappa Sigma will be forced to confront the harm caused by cultures built on silence and intimidation.