One Federal Employee Giving Back
For a few years as a child in Florida, I received reduced-price school lunch. Without that money from the Department of Education, I would have gone to school hungry. My parents were both working full time—as a nurse and construction/factory worker—but it wasn’t enough to feed and house our family of four. Yet there are calls to dismantle the Department of Education and cut benefits to hungry kids.
My parents divorced when I was in middle school, and my mom moved in with a succession of boyfriends. I’ll never forget the time we left one of those boyfriend’s houses late at night after he threatened my mom and sister, and we sat at a picnic table in a public park while mom tried to figure out what to do. I watched my younger sister cry in fear and promise she’d be good as she held on tightly to her dog. We found somewhere to stay that night, but I don’t remember us having a dog after that. We moved into Section 8 housing—voucher housing subsidized by Housing and Urban Development—as we worked to get our lives back together.
In high school, I waited tables and saved my tips. I studied hard and received a full scholarship to a local university through the Florida Bright Futures program, given to the top 10 percent of graduating seniors in the state. Many of my friends planned to study abroad, but that wasn’t an option for me financially—until my professors found out why I wasn’t going and helped me apply for a study abroad scholarship. That scholarship, the Critical Needs Language scholarship from the federal government, paid for me to spend a year overseas learning a language the U.S. government deemed essential. In return, I promised to work for the U.S. government once I graduated.
Thanks to the U.S. government, I had been fed. I had been safely housed. I had been educated. I did not come from privilege, but the government and my own hard work had helped me reach for better opportunities, and you can bet I was going to take them.
After graduation, I moved to D.C. and looked for a government job to repay the debt I owed—not out of obligation, but out of gratitude. I found a position with a nonprofit organization where the projects were largely funded by USAID. The pay wasn’t great—barely above poverty—but I believed in the mission, and now I was on the giving end of U.S. government money.
I understood that by helping people improve their lives, we help the United States: People overseas who receive food, shelter, medicine, and improved government services from the United States are more likely to have a positive view of our country, buy U.S. products, and support U.S. policies. They want to work with us and be our partners because we were there for them in a time of need, just like the social safety net was there for my family when we needed it.
Some people claim USAID projects are a waste of money, that the organization is full of fraud. As someone who has spent hours reviewing receipts for $3 taxi expenses, and discussing $2 differences between the receipts presented and the bank statement of the local organization running the program, I can assure you that every penny is carefully accounted for.
In just its first 10 years, Feed the Future lifted 23.4 million people out of poverty, prevented 3.4 million children from stunting, and reduced hunger in 5.2 million families.
After three years at the nonprofit, I got my dream job with the U.S. government. I can still remember the feeling of awe that came over me as I recited the oath of office, which is framed on my desk: I solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully execute the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.
Over the past 12 years, I have issued passports to U.S. citizen babies born overseas; prevented people with suspected terrorist ties from receiving a visa to the United States; sat with an elderly woman who lost her husband on what was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime to celebrate their retirement, and then called their children to inform them of their father’s death. I have helped arrange emergency travel for a refugee to join his American citizen children in the United States when their mother was placed in hospice, to ensure they did not enter foster care and become wards of the state. I have explained the “Muslim ban” and “extreme vetting” to foreign governments.
I have explained the U.S. electoral system and the system of checks and balances in countries with monarchies and authoritarian democracies. I have implemented and advocated for policies I personally deeply disagreed with under both Democratic and Republican leaders. I have evacuated U.S. citizens in emergency situations in Burundi, Sudan, Afghanistan, Guinea, Lebanon, and so many other places that honestly I can’t even remember anymore.
I do not have a gun, but I am the person who goes into the crisis to make sure you can get out. On a slow week, I work 40 hours; most weeks, I work 50. I do not get paid overtime.
I have missed my only sister’s wedding and the births of her two children. My dad is terminally ill, and I am not there. I haven’t seen my mom in several years because whatever vacation time and money I scrape together goes to helping my dad. I have given up my right to express my opinion on U.S. government policy, even as I am required to implement it.
This is just the story of one federal employee. But it is not unusual. We come from all over the United States. From families who had nothing other than a strong work ethic, and who instilled in us the value of service. No one will argue that government is perfect: We live it every day and see its flaws. But we also know that the work we do is essential to our nation.
I work hard every day to keep you safe regardless of who you are or what your political beliefs are. I have not received any special treatment to get where I am: I have benefited from programs open to any citizen of the United States in need, and I have more than paid back that debt.
—Anonymous FS member