Byron Hurt has made indelible films about the traditions of African American culinary traditions (Soul Food Junkies) and masculinity and misogyny in rap music with his daring doc Hip-Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes. For his new film, he tackles a controversial issue: the sometimes deadly custom of hazing within college Greek Letter Organizations and well beyond. Hazing explores these underground rituals in our society and why people will go to such great lengths, simply just to fit in.
It’s a jarring, sometimes even chilling, exploration, but Hurt finds great humanity and complexity within it as parents of hazing victims, former perpetrators and witnesses, psychologists, and others explore this very question: Why?
What were some of the challenges or concerns you had in making a film about the culture of hazing? How did you get the right balance of perspectives to show how hazing touches a number of worlds?
My first biggest concern was about representation. I wanted to make sure that this film clearly showed how hazing culture exists in spaces outside of Black Greek Letter Organizations (BGLOs). Because I am a Black director, and a member of a BGLO, the assumption by many is that this film would center members of BGLOs. So it was really important to me to go beyond my fraternity, and beyond BGLOs, to show the myriad spaces where hazing exists.
Hazing culture is widespread and impacts people in different ways. When people think about hazing, they typically think about Greek life and sports culture. Rarely do people think about academic clubs, marching bands, nursing, or hazing in fire stations. We weren’t able to explore all of those spaces in-depth, but we were able to show, through quick montages, how widespread hazing is. If viewers come to watch Hazing expecting a film solely about Black Greek Letter Organizations, they will be surprised to see that we go far beyond that.
For people who haven’t been through college-specific hazing rituals, were you consciously trying to get them to still relate to these stories?
Absolutely. I’m not sure how good a job we did on that front, but we attempted to make connections to everyday people who endure abusive or humiliating work environments just so that they will get respect in that environment.
While making Hazing, what did you learn about yourself, as far as your own desire for social acceptance, and your own evolution since college?
I learned that, for much of my life, I yearned for other people’s acceptance or validation. I had a need to be liked. I also learned that I, like many people, have had difficulties in setting up certain boundaries for myself. It’s really difficult to stand up for yourself, especially in the face of people with opposing viewpoints or who have values that are much different than your own. Since college, I’ve grown dramatically. I owe a lot of this growth to my work addressing masculinity in my other work as a gender violence prevention educator.
I’ve had the unique opportunity to think deeply about manhood, and have had countless conversations with tens of thousands of boys and men about the culture of masculinity. That experience has really helped me to evolve as a man, and I’m happy with who I am and secure in my masculinity. I no longer need or desire other people’s approval, which helps give me the fortitude I needed to challenge hazing culture.
When I tell people that I’m making a film about hazing, oftentimes people respond by asking, “Do you have a bodyguard?” Or, “Are you worried about your personal safety?”
The answer to both is no. I don’t have a bodyguard, nor am I terribly concerned about my personal safety. I’ve expected backlash to the film for a very long time: insults, social isolation, abandonment, etc. But those are all things that I can handle.
Have you learned of any new, more positive ways colleges and other organizations have moved on from hazing?
I interviewed a Black man who is a member of an organization called the Malik Fraternity. It’s an African-based fraternity that centers on African principles. They have an interesting way of bringing in new members into their fraternity. Based on what I understand of the culture of their fraternity, they have a very progressive process of bringing in new members that does not involve hazing.
What else that you learned about these rituals surprised you?
One thing that surprised me is that there is hazing in the medical field. Nurses have a tradition often referred to as “Nurses eat their young.” I had no knowledge of this practice among nurses before I started working on this film. We interviewed a woman who talked candidly about how harshly she was treated during her first year of hazing and was put through the paces, or hazed, by veteran nurses.
She went into detail about how this hazing ritual in nursing was very dangerous, including verbal abuse and extreme sleep deprivation due to other nurses piling on work, passing on responsibilities, and assigning them their patients—all of which impacted the quality of care provided to patients. Unfortunately, we were not able to include her story in the film. However, I learned that hazing is as far-reaching as the medical field.
We had two stories that I hated to cut from the broadcast version of the film. One was the story of George Desdunes. The other was the story of Ryan Abele. We had to cut those two stories to get the film down to time for the broadcast. But they remain in the longer version of the film that will stream on PBS.org and the PBS Video app. We also had to cut to military hazing stories featuring Danny Chen and Michael Deng. I really wanted to include those stories in the film but we simply did not have the time to include them.
What parallels do you see between college hazing and the kind of groupthink that can lead to bad situations in other kinds of organizations and workplaces?
People tend to believe that hazing is limited to college students or young people but it is not. There are people who endure verbal and emotional abuse in toxic workplaces but don’t necessarily call it hazing. Despite working in a harmful or abusive environment, they stay at their jobs because they have limited career options or are highly ambitious and looking to climb the corporate ladder.
Stepping out of the workplace and entering the domestic space, I also think there’s a very close similarity between victims and survivors of hazing and victims and survivors of gender-based violence. Although I’d argue gender-based violence is more pervasive and widespread globally, the power dynamics between abuser and victim is very similar. It’s about power and control, and the people who are the targets of abuse stay in these abusive environments because they are in serious danger, or they perceive to have very limited options. So they endure the abuse and hope to survive to tell the story.
Fortunately, for hazing victims, the hazing eventually, presumably, stops once they become a member. For victims of domestic violence, the abuse could be endless until there is a tragic outcome, unless there’s an intervention. There is also the same kind of victim-blaming that takes place with hazing victims similar to the victim-blaming that battered women experience. People ask victims and survivors really problematic questions like, “Why did you stay?” Or, they assert the victim/survivor had the option of leaving, but stayed because you wanted to be abused. The truth in both scenarios is that the power dynamics make it very difficult to leave.
Hazing culture is super complicated, and I hope viewers will walk away with a greater understanding of the nuances and complexities that exist for any person who experiences hazing.
I am a much more seasoned, experienced filmmaker as a result of working on this film. I think this was easily the most difficult, challenging film I’ve had to make and I’ve learned a ton of lessons. I hope to bring those lessons into my next film projects. I think I’m a much better filmmaker as a result.