USAID VP Voice

BY RANDY CHESTER

It’s been two months since I was forced into retirement. On September 2, the last of us were illegally and immorally forced out, save for a handful who continue to process our retirements, severances, and annual leave payouts, and finalize close-out actions.

To those doing this difficult work: You have my respect and gratitude. When your last day comes in March, please know your efforts were deeply appreciated.

Sitting here now in the home I always planned to return to (just not so soon), I am still figuring out what retirement means and what moving forward entails: working, volunteering, painting-by-number, sitting by the lake, aimlessly wandering—or rolling with whatever the day may bring.

I expect many of you would agree that one of the most important and positive aspects of working at USAID and in development was a sense of community. I worried that leaving the agency and moving across the country would also mean losing my community.

Happily, that fear was unfounded. What I have discovered, and I hope you have as well, is that my community is not only still there but growing stronger by the day. Having a community, and being part of one, provides purpose; and realizing that mine remains intact has been an anchor during this transition.

I will always be a USAID FSO, but I am also becoming something more, and my community is helping me get there.

I have always leaned more introverted, quiet in larger groups but more open with a close circle of friends. Now, however, I find myself engaging more broadly, connecting through Facebook and other online platforms, joining groups like Our USAID Community and the USAID Alumni Association, participating in my local Returned Peace Corps Volunteers chapter, and reconnecting with long-lost friends.

These communities, large and small, have given me opportunities to vent, commiserate, process, and plan. They have also allowed me to simply be myself, not just the “illegally fired FSO,” and to begin discovering who I am beyond my identity as a development worker. I will always be a USAID FSO, but I am also becoming something more, and my community is helping me get there.

You may think: “So what? I have so many more pressing worries than a privileged, retired white guy could ever imagine.” My situation is not yours, but I do believe that we will all find our way and that our communities will help us do so.

Look for and find solace in those around you—your big and small communities. While we may never return to the exact situations and relationships we had before we were RIFed, we may just find something new.

I am still a work in progress, but I am getting there. My hope is that, in time, we will all find our new selves and be comfortable, even happy. Until then, know that you are not alone. Communities of likeminded people are waiting to welcome you.