Opinion: I’m a Gay, First-Generation College Student. My Fraternity is Where I Belong

Modern culture pays a lot of attention to demographics. Everywhere you turn, people are classified, arranged into groups according to characteristics and factors they largely don’t choose for themselves. Stereotypes, no matter how untrue or unfair, are a common part of our everyday lives.

I’m a first-generation American born to working class Mexican immigrants. I’m the first in my family to attend college away from home, debt-free thanks to Pell Grants and scholarships. I’m openly gay. Evaluating all these criteria, a person may believe they know enough of my life to make judgments. One such judgment? It’s unlikely they would assume I’d be a member of a fraternity.

Popular movies and mainstream media often portray so-called “frat guys” in a particularly unflattering fashion—affluent young white men engaged in boorish party behavior, and often hazing their peers. That oversimplification misses the true purpose and values of many involved in Greek life.

For me, like millions of young men before me, that’s the pursuit of genuine, lifelong friendships with other men. And not only am I a proud member of a fraternity, but I have also served as president of the University of Missouri’s Interfraternity Council (IFC), which shares with administrators the governance of all fraternity life at the school.

When I first arrived at Mizzou, my parents and I drove past the Greek houses on campus. My mom, who had never encountered fraternities growing up in Mexico, asked if I planned to participate in Greek life. “Absolutely not,” I responded reflexively.

My perspective changed, however, when a high school acquaintance got in touch to discuss his efforts to recharter a fraternity at Mizzou. The organization, Phi Kappa Theta, was returning to campus after having their charter revoked in 2016 for several issues; its new leaders wanted to create a culture centered upon empowerment and accountability. And they saw something in me. When I discovered that fraternity alumni provided scholarships to active members who maintained a 4.0 GPA, I knew that not only was it a great opportunity, but it an important indicator of the values fraternity men possess that are all too often overlooked.

Reflecting its commitment to public service, Phi Kappa Theta’s motto is “Give, expecting nothing thereof.” As a member, I’ve dedicated myself to our charitable work; one of my proudest accomplishments during my tenure as IFC president was helping oversee a cross-council chili cook-off to raise funds for the Columbia Housing Authority, which supports fair housing initiatives for low-income families. During my time in IFC, I had the honor of helping to oversee nearly $1 million in fraternity contributions to our community.

I believe in the benefits of brotherhood. I know the good it does for young men, no matter their background. But these bonds and this belonging shouldn’t come with the condition of hazing. Through my leadership in Greek life, I’ve been committed to creating a safer campus for all students.

That’s why I was excited to discover that both the US House of Representatives and the Senate unanimously pass bipartisan anti-hazing legislation this year. And earlier this week, on Dec. 24, President Joe Biden signed it into law. The Stop Campus Hazing Act establishes universal reporting standards for hazing incidents, mandates hazing prevention training for students and administrators and compels schools to be transparent about hazing on their campuses. (These rules apply throughout all extracurriculars, a very reassuring protection, since the majority of those involved in student organizations experience some version of hazing, not just members of fraternities and sororities).

I won’t pretend that my time in college hasn’t come with challenges. As a native Spanish speaker and gay man, I often face circumstances in my day-to-day life that most others don’t. The odds that I’d end up in college, much less the leader of a Southeastern Conference (SEC) school’s fraternity life, are long. Sometimes, I am even shocked by the path my life has taken.

But perhaps I shouldn’t have been. That’s because brotherhood is, at its core, something we all need. We need people to accept us, hold us accountable and help us in our times of need. We need institutions that orient our lives toward service to our families, our communities and the world. For me, and millions of men before me, a fraternity has provided the bonds that have strengthened our character and improved our lives.

Thanks to Phi Kappa Theta, I truly understand who I am and how I can make a difference. Because I was given the chance to become part of a family—and its advice, tough love and encouragement—my life has changed for the better. I hope I have offered the same to other young men, too. Now, more than ever, we all need it.

Johnathan Martinez is a senior at the University of Missouri.