Notice the byline on this post? Yes, the ‘USAID-funded researcher’ is none other than our middle daughter, Michelle. And yes, she is one whose voice was silenced on 1/20/2025. A few months ago, Michelle asked if she could share her perspective with my readers.
It was time.
Part 3: Unresolved
My belief in people’s capacity to be compassionate has been severely challenged these past few months. I was disheartened to see people cheering for the rapid destruction of USAID online. Yes, the internet has given people the sense of freedom to be cruel and hide behind a curtain of anonymity. The internet has also made it easy for lies and partial truths to take on a life of their own, spiraling into unknown depths of conspiracy and fearmongering.
The “efficiency team” used social media to spread vitriol, claiming that massive amounts of waste, fraud, and abuse are [were] being uncovered but without showing the evidence. Certain “efficiency team” leaders and other national leaders would post that people like me whose work is USAID-funded are “leftwing lunatic Marxists”, “un-American”, and “criminal.” People who support the people in power made many, many vile comments in response.
It is hard not to take that personally or fear the retribution that may come from being labeled an un-American criminal.
On some of my darkest days, I would wonder:
are people truly compassionate, if they can easily become so cruel when granted anonymity?
Yet, I know this is not a complete or fair assessment. After all, not everyone has an online presence, and there are numerous people with (and without) an online presence who have shown their support for those in the international development and humanitarian assistance/foreign affairs community. Including, I might add, many of you who are reading this now.
Perhaps to the relief of my mother/the blog owner, her blog community (you, dear readers) has bolstered my waning faith in people’s compassion. You have engaged thoughtfully, you have asked questions and withheld judgement, and you have not stooped to name calling and vilifying. You have written your dismay at the inhumanity and cruelty wrought from the “efficiency operations.” You have shared hope for positive change. (Thank you).
Let’s be real. Yes, there is [was] waste in US foreign assistance. That is part of life. It is [was] not at the level being claimed. Sure, there is [was] fraud, there is [was] abuse. Again, part of life. Again, not at the level being claimed. Yes, these things should be addressed, and many were being addressed albeit quietly. Many of my colleagues, myself included, had strong opinions about how USAID and other foreign assistance agencies could and should be reformed. But waste, fraud, and abuse were not part of every single project. It was not being conducted by every single civil servant and every single contractor.
Instead, this “review” and subsequent stop work orders have led to incredible amounts of waste – food shipments that could never be distributed to their intended recipients, because that would be counter to the order. Instead, the food sits [sat] in warehouses in the US and abroad, rotting [and eventually incinerated]. Supplies shipped but never distributed, sitting in warehouses. Research started but never finished. Even now that USAID is officially defunct, taxpayers will still pay for the chaotic way in which the agency was shut down.
Yes, I am paying some of the price for the carelessness of this efficiency team’s “review.” But so are many other Americans who do not even realize it. USAID frequently sourced from Americans. Nutrition programs that were designed to help feed wasting children used RUTFs (ready-to-use therapeutic food), such as a product called “Plumpy Nut”. This is essentially a fortified peanut butter – nutrient dense, protein packed. It is sourced from peanut farms in Georgia, processed at a plant in Georgia or Rhode Island, and shipped via American shipping firms.
There are so many other reasons why foreign assistance is beneficial to Americans – soft power, addressing root causes of migration (which in turn can mitigate mass irregular migration to the US), developing markets for American goods and services, supporting national security, and so on and so forth.

I admit, I feel a little “icky” sharing the reasons why foreign assistance is beneficial to Americans, as it ignores the true benefit: partnering with, supporting, and elevating the vulnerable while upholding their dignity. “Giving voice,” lifting up, and trying to make a small part of the world a little bit brighter.

My peers and I expected some kind of re-alignment of foreign assistance, maybe even a true reform effort. This is common practice with new administrations, and a true review could lead to some much-needed changes.
If the review of foreign assistance conducted as part of the “efficiency operation” was about money, efficiency, and true reform, there would have been an actual review. It would have been designed properly, to be transparent and methodical. It would have taken much more time than a few weeks or months, and there would have been a strategic plan for the review and for what comes after the review.
Meaningful reform takes time, it takes years. During which time, the 250,000+ people (almost 20,000 Americans) who are estimated to have lost their USAID-funded job could have kept working (and contributing to the tax base!) and we could have kept partnering with American companies and farms (who contribute to the tax base!) while continuing to work with and serve communities around the world (without wasting what had already been procured!) and seeking real ways to be more “efficient”.
No, I don’t think this was about true reform or enhancing efficiency. As I said in part 2 of this Giving Voice series, I think this was about testing the approach to this bigger project before taking it to other agencies. It was to test the reaction of the public. What can those in power get away with before the people start saying “stop”? No one really knows about this very small part of the government, so why not test it there?
My now-former boss reminded me early on in this period of chaos that it is easier to break things than re-build or build things.
This proof-of-concept was destruction – or, as those in the world of tech like to say, it was “disruption.” This was a disruption without any thought for what comes next. It will take years to build something new, if anyone wants to build something new. It will take years to [re]build trust of the U.S. that we carefully established across communities, across villages, across countries, across institutions. It will take years to undo the damage. The cost will be enormous.
I was furloughed then terminated from my position.
This means that, at the time of writing, I am eligible for unemployment insurance benefits, so now I am costing taxpayers rather than contributing while actively searching for a job. [At the time of publication, I have used my maximum allowed unemployment for the year and am no longer receiving unemployment but still actively searching for a job.] The changes to foreign assistance are still ongoing, with continued chaos and confusion. It is exhausting, emotionally and physically.
My peers and I continue to seek ways to do the work we/they are passionate about. I read their posts sharing how they are innovating new approaches that do not rely on U.S. government funding, seeking jobs at foundations and in other countries, and brainstorming new models for development and humanitarian assistance. They have built new communities of “USAID alumni.” These communities bring us together to be creative in our pursuit of new models, and they act as a support group when we get bogged down in the negative comments.

I still think about that woman, the new mother in Ituri province, DRC. She was so proud to be a mother that she tried to convince the doctors to let me hold her newborn (I was secretly glad that the doctors refused since this was at the height of COVID-19 and I did not want to risk infecting her precious new babe). She was so grateful that she gave birth safely in a clinic. She thanked me. I did nothing more than work for an organization that helped people in that community build a maternity clinic and get supplies. I played no role in that process. But she thanked me, nonetheless. I mentally thank her, for helping me see my own arrogance in that moment, for reminding me of what matters. I pray that I can be as strong as her. I pray that she and her child are safe and healthy. I pray that people regain their compassion and remember that all humans deserve dignity and respect.

Header photo: USAID presence in DRC with non-governmental organization (NGO) affiliate logo scrubbed for privacy reasons
Ending photo: Rural Road, Côte d’Ivoire
All photos: Michelle L. Solorio
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