For members of the U.S. Foreign Service, the mission is what matters. Foreign Service members and their families pack up their lives and go where their country needs them, serving across the world in challenging environments.

USAID Foreign Service officers serve in the toughest places—the poorest, the least secure, the least developed—because these are the places where their work makes the biggest difference. They stop diseases from reaching our borders, which keeps all Americans healthier. They ensure children are fed where they live, keeping would-be migrants in their homes. They buy U.S. products and deliver them to the people and places where the products are most needed, which helps U.S. farmers and businesses prosper.

As the dismantling of USAID continues, staff are being fired, partner organizations are not being paid for their work, and USAID members and their families face life-altering uncertainty and disruption. The following testimonials from USAID FSOs are part of the “Service Disrupted” AFSA public outreach campaign highlighting the experiences of diplomats and development professionals whose work has been disrupted by recent policy decisions—and the impact of those decisions on Americans.

While we cannot share them all here, we hope what follows will shed light on the profound toll these decisions have taken on those who serve. These stories have been lightly edited for clarity. We will continue to share stories in the FSJ and on our social media channels as we receive them. If you have a story to share, please send it to humans-of-fs@afsa.org.

We honor and thank our USAID colleagues and family members for their service.

—The Editors

Struggling to Rebuild Routines

When political violence broke out in Kinshasa in late January, I fled my home in the middle of the night, carrying just one small bag. I was joined by my husband, my children, and 211 colleagues and families. In a typical evacuation, you expect to have access to U.S. government support services when you arrive in the U.S. But because USAID Staff Care services weren’t accessible anymore, I needed to download all my personnel records, find housing, enroll my kids in school, and brace for losing my job—all while supporting traumatized colleagues still at work in the DRC [Democratic Republic of the Congo] and others being needlessly persecuted because of political rhetoric and misinformation about the mission and workforce of USAID.

Here in D.C., I am hotel-hopping, sharing a room with my husband and two children, ages 9 and 11, as we try to find longer-term housing options.

I spend my days trying to keep up with what’s happening in the DRC, working, checking on colleagues, wondering if our home and possessions back in Kinshasa have been looted or destroyed, and refreshing emails to see if I have been placed on administrative leave or fired. Uncertainty and insecurity frame every thought and decision I try to make. I am paralyzed as the actions of this administration continue to harm my colleagues, our partners, and the people we serve as we work to make America safe, strong, and prosperous.

USAID Is Not a Charity

I have served with USAID, advancing U.S. strategic interests abroad for more than 15 years. During my career, I’ve been an FSN [locally employed staff], a USAID contractor, an FSL [Foreign Service Limited employee], and finally an FSO. From day one, I understood that USAID is not a charity—it is an investment in American security. My efforts contributed to reducing youth radicalization, fostering economic partnerships, and strengthening diplomatic ties.

One of the most effective programs I led was an English language initiative in a MENA country [Middle East and North Africa], which successfully integrated English into the national curriculum from primary school through university. This program was not just about language—it was about building pro-American sentiment, expanding economic opportunities, and countering misinformation. I was on the verge of replicating this success in Mali for 20,000 young people when the decision to recall FSOs and shut down critical programs came down from the new administration. This decision directly undermines U.S. influence and security efforts in regions vulnerable to extremism.

In compliance with the stop-work order, we stopped delivery of the meals. The perishable foods were left to rot while the children went hungry.

On a personal level, this action has left my family in crisis. Losing my job means I can no longer afford my small apartment in Virginia, the only home I have. With no means to cover the mortgage, I face foreclosure. Worse, my daughter will be forced to drop out of school, derailing her future. My husband and I now face homelessness, with nowhere to go once we return to the U.S. Our savings will not sustain us for more than a month.

Food Left to Rot

I am from Pennsylvania and have been with USAID for more than a decade. I have worked in several sectors—economic growth, education, and democracy and governance—across several continents and countries, including Afghanistan. I speak three languages and have attained the highest level of education. Using the administration’s own terminology, I am highly qualified and “have merit,” having overcome some of the challenges of being from a historically marginalized community.

On the day the stop-work order was announced, my [implementing partners] were in the field, heading out to provide meals to hundreds of hungry children in drought-stricken and conflict-affected communities. In compliance with the stop-work order, we stopped delivery of the meals. The perishable foods were left to rot while the children went hungry. Letting food go to waste while children went without did not make America stronger, safer, or more prosperous.

The Future Looks Bleak

I’m from California; I’ve been a Foreign Service officer for not quite three years. My future looks bleak, as does the agency’s. My wife and I worked very hard to make it into the Foreign Service. We both sacrificed our previous careers, proximity to family and community, and even time together for this dream. I had just received my onward assignment, which would put me geographically closer to my wife, and we were looking forward to starting a family.

Frankly, I am completely in shock and without a plan. They are even saying we have to leave our dog behind.

What is the point? Where is the emergency? This false sense of urgency in shuttering the agency is destroying careers and causing immense pain for some of the finest Americans I know—those who were proud to represent, serve, and share America’s goodwill in the world.

Standing Up for the Voiceless

I am a resident of Virginia and have been with USAID for nearly 18 years—first as a civil servant and now as a Foreign Service officer. I have served in numerous administrations, both Republican and Democratic, and I have lived up to my oath of working in the public interest. My area of expertise is democracy, governance, and civil society, and I have spent my career standing up for the rights of those who have no voice.

I now find that I am in the same unfortunate place myself. I was placed on administrative leave along with nearly 2,200 staff in Washington, D.C. My husband, who works for an international organization, was laid off along with two-thirds of his staff with just two weeks’ severance pay. With both of us unexpectedly unemployed, we will have to live off our savings and leave our home to find jobs elsewhere.

During my 20 years in government, I have served loyally in Washington and in three missions overseas. I have implemented policies I did not agree with because my job has always required supporting any elected administration’s decisions. I have worked with difficult governments to find connections between government and civil society. I have dutifully managed more than $180 million of programming entrusted to me by the American taxpayer. I have visited project sites in the equatorial heat and freezing Andes. I have lived in very poor countries and adapted to the unimaginable.

I have done all this without complaint at the expense of my health and that of my family, who followed me around the world.

Leaving Patients to Die

I am originally from California, and I have been with USAID for nearly 15 years. I am currently doing long-term training at the School for Advanced Military Studies in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. I moved my family here in June 2024, and now I’m not sure if I will be able to complete the degree program. My family lives on base, and I fear that my kids may get yanked out of their home and school should we be terminated.

I am grieving for my family, for everything we stand to lose. But more than anything, I grieve for our abandoned programs, our local staff and implementing partner staff, and, most of all, our beneficiaries. My colleagues and I have dedicated our lives to helping people, and we are now leaving patients high and dry—without services, health providers, and lifesaving medical treatment.

Uncertainty and insecurity frame every thought and decision I try to make.

Medical Evacuation in Limbo

I hail from California, and I have been with USAID since 2009. I arrived in Washington, D.C., on Jan. 21, 2025, on a medevac from U.S. Embassy Bujumbura, where I have served for more than three years. I was diagnosed with a life-threatening blood disease that will require several weeks of both inpatient and outpatient care before I can return to post. The executive orders and recalls that began after my hospitalization have caused distress and anxiety, as I fear my medevac status will be revoked, and I will be stranded without coverage for the outpatient care required by State’s Bureau of Medical Services. I am fighting for my life—this added uncertainty is not helping my recovery.

Mission Accomplished

I am from Georgia, and I’ve been with USAID for 20 years. I am feeling a deep sense of betrayal. I’ve served in war zones. Been shot at. Had friends die. All in the service of USAID and the United States. We help open markets to U.S. goods and services. We work to improve U.S. national security.

My spouse, my young child, and I were evacuated from a previous post due to a political uprising. People were being shot on the street in front of our house. We were uprooted in 48 hours, our lives in complete upheaval—my spouse lost her embassy job, our son was pulled from school. It took years of counseling and work to recover from that experience. We specifically chose a more stable post for this assignment because of the trauma of the previous post. Now we are living it again, but this time without any job security. My spouse and I both work at the embassy. If we are pulled to D.C., we will lose both incomes, and we have nowhere to live. How do we apply for jobs with no address? How can we enroll our child in school?

This administration said they want to traumatize their own workforce. Congratulations: Mission accomplished. And for what? For our 20 years of sacrifice in trying to make the world a better place.

With Only a Go Bag

I am from Virginia. We were evacuated from post under cover of darkness onto boats with only a go bag. The evacuation, precipitated by insecurity in the Congo, has completely uprooted our lives. If that weren’t already hard enough, we are living in limbo as the agency I have so proudly served is villainized, purged, and dismantled. I do not know when I will be unfairly fired, whether my evacuation expenses will be reimbursed, or whether I should (or can even afford to) enroll my children in daycare.

My two children are traumatized—they are having trouble sleeping and eating and keep asking when we will be able to go back “home” to Kinshasa. They miss our dog, their friends, toys, and daily routines. This devastating experience will be replicated 1,400 times over if all USAID Foreign Service officers are forcibly removed from their overseas posts and recalled back to Washington, D.C., under dehumanizing conditions with little dignity or respect.

The DRC is a hardship post. I’ve been working there for two years, four months of those alone with my kids as my husband pursued his dream of becoming a Foreign Service officer himself back in Washington, D.C. I managed a program in the DRC to disrupt criminal networks engaged in human trafficking, protect U.S. economic interests, and safeguard our national security. This program, like so many others, is now on hold and will likely die, putting Americans more at risk. Simply put, the vacuum we are leaving cedes control to China and Russia.

I have sacrificed so much to serve my country, but nothing has been as demoralizing and excruciating as the degrading manner in which my service is being vilified by those who don’t understand the vital role that USAID plays in protecting our national security, building stable trading partners, and staving off fatal epidemics.

Improving Life for Millions of Kids

I grew up in Indiana and have been a Foreign Service officer with USAID for nearly four years. I changed careers from teaching elementary school to managing education development programs with USAID because

I saw an opportunity to improve the lives of millions of children around the world. I felt that I was representing the best of what America has to offer and serving my country.

False statements have portrayed me as a criminal to my fellow citizens. The misinformation and wrongful accusations about USAID and FSOs, along with the flood of unpredictable orders and lack of guidance about their implementation, have resulted in my family feeling very stressed. It is especially frustrating because the chaos seems to be inflicted intentionally and is actually at odds with the purported vision to safeguard and increase benefits to U.S. citizens of U.S. taxpayer funds.

I Believed in the Mission

I grew up in California, the first in my immigrant family to earn a college degree. Fourteen years ago, I joined USAID because I wanted to make a difference—helping communities grow their own food, protect their land, and build better futures. My work has taken me all over the world, and just seven months ago, I moved my family again for a new role, believing in the mission and the stability it provided us.

Now, everything is falling apart. The push to recall diplomats and shut down USAID isn’t just about losing a job—it’s about losing our home, our security, and our future. The public attacks on us have been heartbreaking, but what’s worse is the uncertainty for my family. Our last transition was difficult, and we are just now settling into our new home—one we are suddenly being ordered to leave.

My husband and I now face homelessness, with nowhere to go once we return to the U.S.

On top of that, my son needs surgery, which can’t be performed in the high-security-risk country to which we’ve been assigned. We resigned ourselves to waiting until the next time we’re in the U.S. for the procedure, relying on the stability of our insurance when we opted to wait. If we’re forced to move abruptly, I don’t know how we’ll ensure his medical care.

I’ve spent my career helping others build security in their lives. Now, my own family is being thrown into chaos. It’s terrifying, and I don’t know what comes next.

Keeping Americans Safe

I’m originally from Virginia and have served in and around USAID for more than 20 years. I’ve worked directly for USAID for more than 10 years, much of that time spent working on the front lines in Afghanistan and across Africa, with the rest spent in Washington, D.C., on peace and security policy implementation. My entire career has been devoted to programs that advance U.S. national security and foreign policy objectives, from stabilizing fragile regions to promoting peacebuilding efforts in conflict-affected zones. These missions are not abstract—they’ve required real sacrifices, long hours in volatile environments, and unwavering commitment to U.S. values abroad. But my work is important, and it keeps my fellow Americans safe.

The recent efforts to recall Foreign Service officers and downsize USAID have had a deeply personal impact on me and my family. But more than that, this decision threatens to undo years of work by dedicated American patriots, who have risked their lives to protect U.S. interests and promote stability globally. I have colleagues who made the ultimate sacrifice while serving, and many others who carry the invisible scars of their time in conflict zones. Their sacrifices—and those of their families—deserve recognition and respect, not abandonment.

For us, this isn’t just about jobs or bureaucratic shifts—it’s about the deep commitment we’ve made to service and the mission we believe in. My family and I have carried the weight of that responsibility, knowing that what we do saves lives, builds peace, and protects the U.S. at home. But now, it feels as though our commitment is being disregarded, leaving us uncertain about what comes next.

Welcome to Post

I’m an FSO from Texas, and I’ve been with USAID for 12 years total, although this is my first year as an FSO. I arrived at post on Jan. 25, just as USAID was beginning to be dismantled. The day I arrived, the Trump administration announced a freeze on foreign aid. On day six, I received notice that all global staff would be put on administrative leave and had to leave the country. Everything I owned was in transit to post; I’m now told the shipment will be held until further instructions arrive. When it finally does arrive at post, it will have to clear customs in country before it can be sent back home. It will be at least 8 months before I am reunited with my possessions.

No Hope After Miscarriage

I am an FSO from Missouri. I’ve worked for USAID for a decade—first as a contractor and then in the Foreign Service. I am currently posted to a tiny country surrounded by neighbors facing civil war, terrorism, and famine. Where I am serving, there are no playgrounds, no grass, rampant malaria, no fresh fruit, no potable water. I moved here with my young children to represent the U.S. government and help advance key national security objectives.

The last three weeks have been terrifying for me and my family. We face the prospect of losing my job, our sole source of income; our only home; and our health insurance. We’ll have to rip our children out of school in the middle of the school year. Worst of all, at the end of last year we decided to try for another child knowing that we would be at post this fall, and early this year I found out I was pregnant. The physical and psychological stress of the past weeks—not eating, not sleeping, rushing to pack up our lives with only a few days’ notice, getting our pet’s health clearance to travel on a day’s notice, trying to reassure my staff in what little way I could that I am looking out for them—all of that resulted in a miscarriage yesterday. Now the one last glimmer of hope for what we saw our lives being in 2025 is gone.

I carry the greater burden of knowing our abrupt withdrawal has left our Belarusian partners in real mortal danger from an authoritarian regime.

Leaving Partners in Danger

I am a Foreign Service officer with more than 16 years of service. I am from California and have proudly served in Afghanistan, the Philippines, Haiti, USCENTCOM, Guatemala, South Sudan, Iraq, the Ebola response in West Africa, and now the mission to Belarus. Before joining USAID, I was a Peace Corps volunteer in Morocco.

My entire adult life has been dedicated to service. I have been rocketed, shot at, missed family milestones, and endured health challenges, but I have always been proud to represent my country and USAID’s mission: From the American People.

My husband and I arrived in Belarus in mid-December 2024, spending thousands of our own dollars to relocate. After a grueling year in Juba—where we faced constant threats of violence and evacuation—this assignment offered a chance for stability. In South Sudan, my husband suffered severe pneumonia twice, likely from diesel fumes from the compound generators next to our hooch. He was eventually medically evacuated to South Africa, spending a week in the hospital on oxygen. We were relieved to start fresh with health care and a safe home.

Just as we were settling in, a day after our household effects and car arrived, we were told that the organization I have dedicated my life to no longer exists. Our house is in chaos, filled with unopened boxes. I am panicked that I won’t have time to organize travel for my cat. How can I plan another international move with no information?

I am close to retirement but not close enough. I have committed my life to serving my country, repeatedly going into danger, trusting that my pension and health care would be there for my family if the worst happened. Beyond the very intense stress and anxiety of losing my career, income, and health care, I carry the greater burden of knowing our abrupt withdrawal has left our Belarusian partners in real mortal danger from an authoritarian regime. And no one back home seems to care.