Jack & Jill, Divine Nine: Community or Black Elitism? Rewritten title options: Examining Class Divisions: Are Jack & Jill and Divine Nine Organizations Rooted in Community Service or Exclusionary Practices? Black Greek Organizations and Elite Membership: Assessing the Balance Between Community Engagement and Selective Exclusion Jack & Jill and Divine Nine: Bridging Communities or Reinforcing Social Hierarchies Within Black America? The Paradox of Prestige: How Black Elite Organizations Navigate Community Responsibility and Exclusivity Questioning Black Institutional Power: Do Jack & Jill and Divine Nine Serve the Collective or Perpetuate Internal Stratification?

Right now, Black parents, educators, and community organizers are working overtime to figure out how to keep young people safe. As anxieties rise, families are turning to legacy institutions for shelter, security, and guidance. Black Greek organizations, Jack and Jill of America, and The Links have become more visible than ever—but their role in the community comes with a complicated history.

In a world where finding true sanctuary feels harder by the day, it’s natural to look to the most trusted pillars of Black culture for protection. But as we lean into these spaces, a polarizing question keeps coming up: Is this Black elitism, or is it essential community building? When it comes to Black Greek organizations, the line between indispensable safe haven and exclusive club has never felt thinner. Whether you view them as vital lifelines or expensive status symbols, here’s an unfiltered look at both sides.

The Birth of the Divine Nine

In the early 1900s, being a Black student on a predominantly white college campus meant total isolation. Black students were banned from housing, barred from cafeterias, and locked out of campus organizations. That changed in 1906.

The first Black Greek-letter organization emerged from this hostile exclusion. Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. started at Cornell University, followed by Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc. at Howard University in 1908. They were forged as literal safe havens designed to help Black students thrive in a system built to reject them.

Toxicity and Hazing

While the Divine Nine prides itself on lifelong brotherhood and sisterhood, modern critics argue that the culture is plagued by toxic gatekeeping and trauma-bonding. Despite decades of strict anti-hazing policies, dangerous underground initiation rituals continue to make headlines, sometimes resulting in severe psychological harm, physical pain, and even death.

Southern University’s Caleb Wilson Hazing Death

The Root documented the case of Caleb Wilson, the 20-year-old mechanical engineering student at Southern University who died in February 2025 after a fatal hazing ritual while pledging Omega Psi Phi. The Beta Sigma chapter was expelled by the university, and five men were indicted by a grand jury for manslaughter, felony hazing, and obstruction of justice.

Caleb Wilson’s parents sued the fraternity and the chapter for wrongful death and survival damages. His story is a devastating reminder of what happens when a legacy meant to protect Black lives becomes the very thing that takes them.

The High Price of Admission

Critics also point out a deep hypocrisy in their missions. While these organizations pledge to uplift the underserved, the staggering financial cost of membership—frequently running into thousands of dollars with ongoing quarterly or monthly dues—means they’re locking out working-class Black students. What started as campus activism has become an expensive status symbol.

Boots on the Ground

Whatever critics say about social exclusivity, the Divine Nine’s modern philanthropic output can’t be ignored. These organizations thrive on civic action—voter registrations, massive health clinics, and millions in academic scholarships for HBCU students.

Gang Mentality

Still, social media timelines are regularly flooded with videos of grown adults in matching windbreakers taking up space in public—gatekeeping sidewalks and restaurant aisles because they believe a color combination and a stroll line gives them ownership of the territory.

Violence often goes viral, with people roasting members for having a bizarre amount of ride-or-die loyalty to an organization—and “friends they quite literally had to pay for”—despite not having a single drop of actual Greek blood in their DNA.

“Atp they just as close as gangs,” one TikTok user wrote after a video of a girl getting jumped by 15 AKAs went viral. Another added: “Yea someone mama would’ve been wearing a black dress and singing going up the yonder.”

The Vision Behind Jack And Jill of America

While Black college students were organizing on campuses, Black mothers were fighting a different battle at home. Founded in 1938 by Marion Stubbs Thomas in Philadelphia, Jack and Jill of America was born out of a simple yet powerful desire to give Black children a safe space to just be kids.

Today, Jack and Jill boasts 271 chapters nationwide, representing more than 50,000 family members providing social, cultural, and educational opportunities for youth between the ages of 2 and 19.

Allegations of Generational Snobbery

Throughout the years, Jack and Jill of America has earned the “bougie” label and has been frequently called out for fostering generational snobbery. Because the organization places overwhelming priority on legacy status—automatically preferring the children of existing members—it naturally keeps out everyday Black families without historical ties to Black high society.

Grueling Interview Process

Critics argue that the interview process, legacy requirements, and specific dress codes don’t actually protect Black childhood. Instead, they isolate a select group of wealthy children from the broader Black community, teaching them early to measure their worth by exclusive social standing and class privilege.

The Real-World Work

Behind that polished exterior lies an undeniable philanthropic network. Jack and Jill of America actively channels resources into community and charitable events, pioneering nationwide awareness around child development, mental growth, and legal protection of children’s rights.

Why The Links Formed

The Links, Incorporated, founded in Philadelphia in 1946, was engineered to pool the intellect, professional leverage, and financial resources of Black women who were otherwise locked out of mainstream civic leadership. According to their website, The Links is “one of the nation’s oldest and largest volunteer service organizations committed to enriching, sustaining, and ensuring the culture and economic survival of African Americans and other people of African ancestry.”

Old-Money Gatekeeping

The Links faces heavy scrutiny for embodying elitist old-money culture. Unlike many organizations where qualified people can apply, membership is strictly invite-only, requiring sponsorship from existing members who are accused of favoring specific social classes or professional pedigrees.

Academic Donald Earl Collins has criticized members of the Black middle and upper classes for having attitudes and values similar to their white counterparts. He wrote: “Emphasizing harmony while knowing that millions of Americans of color are living off the crumbs of alleged racial progress is the mentality of an affluent African American who’s struck a Faustian bargain.”

The Links’ Legacy

The Links, Incorporated consists of more than 17,000 professional women of African descent in 299 chapters located in 41 states. The organization funds historic HBCU scholarships, has contributed more than one million documented hours of community service annually, and has gifted more than $27 million to charitable causes since its founding.