By Chad Corbitt, Florida State '06

(This piece was taken from our the Fall 2024 issue of The Laurel, click here to read the full issue.)

In this issue of the Laurel, you’ve seen many of Phi Taus most loyal volunteers, and Chad Corbitt, Florida State '06, can certainly be included among those names. As a new Foundation Trustee, Corbitt will continue to give his time to the betterment of our Foundation and Fraternity. However, the story below is not of his time volunteering for Phi Tau but detailing his recent mission trip to Guatemala. Corbitt’s dedication to serving others is the embodiment of our Fraternity’s most sacred values, and hopefully it inspires you to take one small step in service of a cause you’re passionate about.

My time is split working for a family office on their alternative investment strategy and an educational VR tech company. I’m a member of the Beta Iota chapter at FSU and was initiated in 2006. The fraternity taught me the importance of thinking beyond myself and how to make an impact in the community.

Whether it was raising money for local schools in Tallahassee, volunteering at the Humane Society with our Chapter Advisor Liz Maryanksi, hosting the world’s largest water balloon flight as our philanthropy, or the myriad of service and philanthropy events our chapter participated in, the fraternity, especially the brothers before me, ingrained in me a deep passion to truly live as a man of character, to do more.

Since graduating, my professional life has revolved around entrepreneurship, but giving back to others has remained a constant. I’m fortunate enough to be on several charitable boards, taking time each year to work with Christ’s Starfish Foundation to ensure kids in local hospitals receive Christmas presents. I’m also honored to serve on the Library Board of Advancement for Florida State University. This is a privilege, but at times, it is difficult to balance with everyday life—being married and having a 6-year-old daughter at home adds additional time constraints (for those with young kids, you know this is my polite statement to explain my life is chaos).

In the summer of 2023, I had the calling and decided to go on my first mission trip to Guatemala, which took place this past July. This decision came with several questions: could I balance this trip with work? Will my wife and daughter accept me leaving for a long time? What should I expect in a foreign country? When you get the call, you must find a way. If you are expecting an article about somebody who has done this kind of trip 100 times and led hundreds of people to do the same—this isn’t that article.

The invitation to go to Guatemala came from my cousin Karen, who had been on a couple of trips and trusted the organization Medical Missions Outreach (MMO). MMO works with local churches in areas of need. When they arrive at a location, they bring medical supplies and medications, along with dentists, doctors, nurses, medical students, and non-medical volunteers like myself. After signing up for the trip, I didn’t think much about it, but as the days grew closer, I felt nervous, preparing myself by praying about it and asking others to pray for me. I prayed for travel safety, for being able to connect with people although my Spanish is terrible, and that I wouldn’t grow frustrated with my mom, who was a nurse, and decided to surprise join me on the trip.

The day had come, and I boarded my flight. The day was jampacked with travel—landing in Guatemala City, then endeavoring through a 3-hour bus ride that turned into a 10-hour ride because of a rockslide and car accidents. The extended bus ride allowed me to get to know the medical team and others on the trip with us as we traveled to the city of Retalhuleu. It was impressive to meet people who left their hospital, dental practice, and other jobs, not to mention their families, to help others. We finally arrived at our hotel late at night. The room was tiny and hot, and we were informed we couldn’t drink the water. What was I thinking?

The next morning, we set up the clinic which was in an open-air school on summer break. Given my nerdy IT background, I made myself useful by figuring out the internet connectivity with cylinder block walls for the electronic medical record (EMR) system and was given my assignment of working in the optical area. My experience to date of optometry was going to get glasses once a year. The staff and volunteers trained me on the initial vision screening and how to decipher what came from the autorefractor to get the sphere, circumference, and axis measurements. We poured through boxes of donated glasses to try to find a pair that was as close as possible to their vision, fit their head – and with some luck – was stylish enough for them to wear.

In the morning, we went to church in the same building. Nothing makes you aware of all the unused space in your own house taken for granted like immersing yourself in a place where you must make do with the space at hand. The Sunday message focused on three main points: (1) Love your neighbor; (2) Love is often inconvenient; and (3) be on the lookout for people to love. I pondered the connection between our values as fraternity men learned long ago, the message on Sunday, and the school values posted in that tiny school.

The first morning the clinic was fully open and there were well over 100 people already waiting upon our arrival. Nerves took over, because for the first time I wasn’t in control or leading, but I was just a simple person working in a clinic helping one patient at a time. We hustled as fast as we could, because the waiting room continued to crowd, and every day once the daylight escaped us, the interior lights would not be enough to conduct our work. The people we served had working wages equal to $5-$15/day and glasses can cost between $150-$300. Think about that…

We did this for a week. At the end of each day, I was tired but fulfilled. There was always a reward for grinding away person after person—they smiled with me, hugged me, and cried; some parents saw their children for the first time in their full beauty. Some were happy just to read again, and some were amazed at how beautiful the world was now that they could see clearly. In the end, we saw 1,645 patients and I wish we could have doubled that, because nothing hurt more knowing that some people had to be turned away. Some waited 8 hours to see us and it brought me to tears multiple times that I was fitting somebody for glasses that needed them so badly they waited in the hot sun for hours. These people wouldn’t understand the trivial issues we complain about – and nor should they. They want to work, live their life, spend time with friends and family, and be happy. It truly puts into perspective our daily struggles and how mundane and inconsequential they are compared to those in need.

I said earlier this article wasn’t going to be a charge to lead 500 trips to lands across the world or some grandiose mission. My hope is by reading this you hear about a brother who is tired, overworked, juggling a marriage and kid, and had the calling to take one small step. It doesn’t need to be grandiose. You don’t need to lead anything…just take one small step. Help somebody in one small way. Whether the calling comes spiritually or because the values of who you are, be the Good Samaritan and help somebody along the path of life. I heeded the call from God, and I am thankful for the opportunity, strength, and ability He gave me. Our collegiate and fraternal experiences may no doubt have been different – but what binds us is a commitment to something higher than ourselves, a calling to our fellow man, a calling that imbues upon us a sense of duty near and far.

God willing, I will be back on another medical trip soon. If you ever have considered going on a trip – DO IT! It is incredible and every bit of concern, stress, and inconvenience I experienced doesn’t hold a candle to the fulfilling experience you will receive. This trip helped me understand that it is the small steps, acts of love, and serving with a kind heart that the world needs. I’m thankful for the values I learned as a member of Phi Tau and what it engrained in the very fiber of my existence—leading me to this experience. I’m damn proud to represent the fraternity wherever I go, no matter how far that is.

P.S. Your first small step can be donating your old glasses to an organization that will help you find a new home for them. I am biased toward MMO, but there are dozens. People need those glasses, and an extra couple of minutes to find a donation box will change somebody’s life. Remember, love is often inconvenient.