Defining Moments

by Laith Khalaf

"How Scars Led to My Personal Journey to Serve Others"

Many of us can point to a defining moment in our lives so powerful that it ends up shaping our character and who we are. These extraordinary experiences often set our priorities and subsequently our life mission.

Over the years I have been recognized for my community service, from mentoring students to saving abused and abandoned animals. I am also honored to have received The Director’s Community Leader Award from the FBI.

On the surface, it may seem like a typical overachieving Midwestern story, but if I shared my “defining moment” it would be anything but.

The backdrop is days after Saddam’s invasion of Kuwait. My family and I lived in the Middle East, and found ourselves amidst the chaos of the looming “Mother of all Wars.” My American mom had just gotten a call from the US embassy in Jordan imploring her to evacuate and come back to the states. Needless to say, she didn’t need much convincing to start packing.

Soon my dad was driving us past military vehicles scattered along the desert road while nervous soldiers manning each checkpoint ushered him to pass as we flashed our American passports, literally our tickets out of the war zone.

On the surface, it may seem like a typical overachieving Midwestern story, but if I shared my “defining moment” it would be anything but.

The backdrop is days after Saddam’s invasion of Kuwait. My family and I lived in the Middle East, and found ourselves amidst the chaos of the looming “Mother of all Wars.” My American mom had just gotten a call from the US embassy in Jordan imploring her to evacuate and come back to the states. Needless to say, she didn’t need much convincing to start packing.

Soon my dad was driving us past military vehicles scattered along the desert road while nervous soldiers manning each checkpoint ushered him to pass as we flashed our American passports, literally our tickets out of the war zone.

My mom, brother, and I each had a US passport. But my dad wasn’t a US citizen, and we all knew what it meant.

My parents had made the gutwrenching decision that we would all flee to safety while my dad would have to stay behind. The looming reality weighed heavy on all of us as no one said a word for the duration of the ride.

Once we reached the airport, it was like a scene out of a movie. Droves of people clamoring to leave, crying, hugging. Emotions were raw and unrestrained as families were broken up, including mine.

Amid the chaos, my dad took me aside, pulled out a picture of himself, and handed it to me. “Laith, always know that I love you, don’t forget me.”

His tone turned serious as he gave me an unexpected promotion, “You are now in charge of taking care of the family. You take care of your mom and brother, do you hear me?” I clenched his picture (which to this day I carry in my briefcase) and repeatedly promised him that I would. We said our hurried goodbyes as my mom ushered us to the gate. I looked back and watched the sea of people engulf my dad as we moved further away.

On August 28, 1990, my childhood abruptly ended. I had just turned 13 years old two days earlier, and my priority abruptly shifted to taking care of “us,” putting my family ahead of myself. Eventually, my definition of family evolved to include my close friends, clients, community, and country.

My dad made it through the war, but unfortunately never came to live with us in the United States as my parents went their separate ways. I always kept in touch with him and we are still close, fulfilling my first promise that day.

In a world flush with bad news and an abundance of divisiveness, it’s easy to feel insignificant and helpless to make a tangible positive impact. I’m arguing that we absolutely can - even a small act of kindness can reverberate and compound.

I’m candidly sharing my story because defining moments like these often come with intense pain that can easily cripple our lives and darken our spirit. But they can also be a source of light, guiding us to better days and setting the tone for the rest of our lives.

I advocate channeling this potent emotional fuel to propel our passion to “right” the wrongs we were dealt in our past, using our own scars to galvanize our resolve to protect and serve others.

At the end of the day, we are all in this together, and we always take care of family.

Laith Khalaf with his Dad