previously all-male colleges, Wade says, fraternities
began controlling social life as well.
While fraternity membership declined in the
middle of the 20th century around the Vietnam War,
it spiked again in the 1980s, thanks in part to a law
that set the national drinking age at 21, making it
harder for underage students to get alcohol outside
of the Greek scene. Students have since been drawn
to the promise of lifelong friendships and the best
parties on campus.
Some fraternities, though, have perpetuated
behavior that ranges from risky to criminal. Binge
drinking has long been an issue on campuses, but
a 2007 study by researchers at the University of
Rhode Island found that fraternity members are
more likely to drink heavily and have problems
with alcohol use than their non-fraternity peers.
And 73% of fraternity or sorority members have
experienced hazing, according to a 2008 national
study by researchers at the University of Maine.
Fraternity members have been forced to chug hard
alcohol, endure sleep deprivation and complete
physical challenges while blindfolded, according to
police reports and court documents. Hazing bans are
now ubiquitous, but some fear they’ve done little
more than hide these rituals from public view. An
unintended consequence is that students who know
they are breaking university rules may be less likely
to go to authorities when things get out of control.
Fraternity defenders argue that most chapters
foster brotherhood, build leadership skills and
promote philanthropy. Penn State fraternity
members volunteered 65,000 hours and raised
nearly $1.4 million for charity in 2016, according to
the Penn State Interfraternity Council. Nationally,
fraternity undergraduates volunteered 3.8 million
hours and raised $20.3 million for philanthropy in
the 2013–14 academic year, the most recent year
with numbers available, according to the NIC.
Judson Horras, president and CEO of the
NIC, says his fraternity gave him structure and a
sense of belonging at Iowa State. “My growth and
development—short of my family and probably
church—I relate back to my journey, both positive
and negative, of being a fraternity man,” he says.△
Brendan Young, the
former president
of the shuttered
Penn State chapter
of Beta Theta Pi,
arrives on July 11
for a hearing on
charges related to
Piazza’s death“How much it means to me—it’s overwhelming, and
it’s a brotherhood feeling that I really appreciate.”
Josh Szabo, president of the Beta Theta Pi chapter
at the University of South Carolina, believes critics
often exaggerate the dangers of fraternities by
focusing on what he sees as a few bad apples.
“I do not ever see a point where fraternities would
do so much wrong that it would outweigh all the
good that they do,” says Szabo. “That would be akin
to saying that the government does so much wrong
that we should no longer have a government.”THE PIAZZAS’ NEW JERSEY HOMEis filled with
photos of Tim—posing in his football uniform,
swinging a baseball bat, dressing up for a school
dance, laughing with his older brother. His mother
Evelyn often picks up and hugs the things that
belonged to him. “It makes me feel like he’s here,”
she says. His father Jim finds it too painful and avoids
his son’s bedroom altogether.
They describe Tim as hotheaded and funny, kind-
hearted and smart. He was an accomplished high
school athlete, and when he arrived at college he got
involved with the Penn State Dance Marathon, which
raises money to fight childhood cancer.
Tim didn’t talk much with his parents about his
plans to join a fraternity, and he never mentioned
concerns about hazing. “He played the whole frater-
nity thing fairly low-key with us,” Jim says. “He just
said he was interested in doing it, but he knew my
view was that he didn’t need to pledge a fraternity.”
In the eight months since their son’s death, the
Piazzas have become vocal opponents of dangerous
Greek life. But they’re frustrated that their advocacy
hasn’t prevented teenagers from dying. When Jim
heard about Gruver’s death at LSU, “my stomach
went up in my throat,” he says. “I couldn’t believe it.”
The Piazzas want Penn State to quickly implement
policies enforcing strong consequences for fraternity
misbehavior, and they want those who played a role
in their son’s death to be held accountable. But so far
they’ve been disappointed. Centre County District At-
torney Stacy Parks Miller initially brought charges—
ranging from furnishing alcohol to minors to involun-
tary manslaughter and aggravated assault—against155
Number of members
of Congress who are
fraternity or sorority
alumni, according
to the Fraternity and
Sorority Political
Action Committee385,000
Number of
undergraduate
members in the
66 fraternities
belonging to the
North-American
Interfraternity
Conference during
the 2015–16
PODIUM, HOUSE: ABBY DREY—CENTRE DAILY TIMES/AP (2); YOUNG: DAN GLEITER—PENNLIVE.COM/AP academic year