Caleb Wilson's Death Demands Our Awakening on Hazing Culture
By: Damien Thaddeus Jones - @NobleNegroe + Facebook + TikTok
Brothers and sisters, we gather today in a moment of mourning, our hearts heavy with the loss of Caleb Wilson, a 20-year-old son of Southern University, a gifted musician in the Human Jukebox, and a young man with a future as bright as the Louisiana sun. According to numerous outlets, Caleb collapsed and died during an off-campus ritual, pledging to join Omega Psi Phi, a fraternity with a proud legacy. His death is a wound to his family, his community, and to all of us who believe in the promise of our youth. Caleb deserved better—and we must do better.
Let me start by lifting up the good. Greek-letter organizations like Omega Psi Phi have long been pillars in our communities. Founded in 1911 at Howard University, the Ques have marched for justice, mentored our boys into men, and poured scholarship and service into the soil of Black America. I’ve seen their hands build homes, their voices lift up the voiceless, and their brotherhood offer a network of strength. Across this nation, fraternities and sororities provide bonds that elevate grades, connect alumni, and foster leaders. This is not in dispute. The good they do is real, and we honor it.
But there’s a shadow over this light—a shadow cast by hazing, a practice that too often turns brotherhood into a battlefield. Caleb’s death is not an isolated tragedy. Since 2000, at least 105 college students have died in hazing-related incidents, according to researchers like Hank Nuwer. That’s 105 lives—sons, daughters, dreamers—snuffed out in the name of belonging. Alcohol poisoning, heatstroke, head injuries, cardiac arrest—the causes vary, but the common thread is Greek life gone wrong. In 2017 alone, four young men died at fraternities. In 2021, Adam Oakes and Stone Foltz joined the list. Now, in 2025, Caleb Wilson’s name is etched into this sorrowful ledger.
And it’s not just death we must reckon with. Studies tell us over half of college students in clubs or Greek organizations—55%—have faced hazing. The physical toll is brutal: broken bones, exhaustion, dehydration. The mental scars cut deeper: anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress. Pledges report sleep deprivation, humiliation, forced drinking—acts that degrade the soul and destabilize the mind. How many more walk away alive but wounded, carrying silent burdens? This is not brotherhood; this is abuse dressed up as tradition.
I challenge the mindset of the hazer. What drives you to test a man’s worth with pain? Is it power? Is it proving you endured, so he must too? “I went through it, so you will,” you say, as if suffering is a badge of honor. But hear me: inflicting harm doesn’t build loyalty—it breaks trust. You’re not forging a brother; you’re risking a grave. And to the hazee, I say: Why do you submit? Is acceptance worth your life? Caleb stood in that line at North Sherwood Forest Community Park, perhaps seeking camaraderie, perhaps fearing rejection. But your value isn’t tied to enduring pain or humiliation. You are enough—without the scars.
This mindset—that hazing proves toughness or earns a place—must die before more of our children do. Omega Psi Phi’s national chapter has a zero-tolerance policy, yet unsanctioned rituals persist. Universities suspend chapters, states pass laws—44 have anti-hazing statutes—but the deaths keep coming. Why? Because we’ve romanticized a rite of passage that’s become a rite of ruin. We’ve let “tradition” excuse terror.
Caleb deserved better. He was a mechanical engineering junior, a Kenner native with music in his hands and purpose in his heart. His father, Corey Wilson, served 35 years in law enforcement—a family of service, struck by senseless loss. We cannot bring Caleb back, but we can honor him by breaking this cycle. Greek organizations must purge hazing from their ranks, not just in policy but in practice. Universities must enforce accountability, not just react with condolences. And we, the community, must teach our young people that true strength isn’t proven by enduring abuse—it’s shown in rejecting it.
Let Caleb’s death be a turning point. Let us build brotherhood on love, not pain. For his sake, for all our sakes—enough is enough.
And as we stand in this moment, let us hold to the Word of God. Galatians 6:2 tells us, “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” This is our charge—not to pile burdens on our brothers, but to lift them up. To those hurting from Caleb’s loss, to those wrestling with the weight of hazing’s scars, I say: turn to the Lord. Lay your grief and your guilt at His feet. Pray for wisdom to discern true fellowship from false tests. Seek His strength to stand against what harms, for in Him, we find the courage to heal and the power to change. Let us walk in that light, together, for Caleb and for all God’s children.
Rev. Damien Thaddeus Jones is a Christian minister, distinguished conservative thought leader, and political analyst with nearly 15 years of expertise in civic and political engagement. He is the author of best selling book Black Voters Red Wave.