The pain imposed upon current and now recently fired federal employees that spreads across the country is felt acutely here in the suburbs of DC. Support groups are active in churches, social services agencies, and community organizations. Fear is everywhere: What do we do now? Where do we go? Can I support my family? What about the children?
Last Thursday, I was at the Post Office, dropping off our tax return to send by certified mail. As the transaction was nearing completion, I cynically said to the clerk, a familiar face I’d seen often over the years, “I’m getting this done early; I just don’t know what trouble’s coming next,” hinting at Trump’s latest and promised destruction throughout government and society. She paused a moment and then leaned her head around the Covid shield. I leaned in, too, as I sensed she was anxious to share something of herself. “We [all the postal workers there] are so afraid. I’ve been here so many years. What he’s [Trump] is doing is so-o-o wrong.” I said something I hoped might show empathy as I left the counter for the next person waiting in line.
I read the stories in the news and the posts on Facebook. I talk to neighbors and call friends and family who are or might know of someone fired, purged, erased, and suffering the trauma of quick fixes to “unnecessary excess and fraudulent” federal government.
Before retiring a decade ago, I worked for a contractor working for the Department of Education. I knew many DoED employees individually and worked with Dr. Peggy Carr and her team, all career federal employees. The mission: help improve the nation’s public education system and children directly. All workers were dedicated and hard-working, apolitical, neither fraudsters nor wasteful of public money. Their DoED office was just closed by DOGE; I don’t know if any of these employees were thrown away or could survive in different roles. Permanent damage to individual careers and institutions will negatively impact all Americans. The brain drain alone may never recover. But the purge goes well beyond the top levels; the clerks and receptionists and drivers and cleaning crews and lunch vendors, many of marginal economic circumstances and minority status, get hurt in the ripples. Make no mistake; this is a white supremacist-inspired putsch threatening not only ordinary individuals but the environment, social order, and all humanity. I cannot look away.
For years, each Christmas season, I went outside to the street curb early on trash day to wait for the sanitation trucks (one for recyclables, another for yard waste, yet another for all the rest). Throughout the year, I noticed these workers performing really dangerous, dirty, thankless, and underappreciated work—and on my behalf! I waved the trucks to a stop, said how I saw them, really saw them, and said how much I appreciated them and their work. I handed each individual a Jackson. (In 2022 it was a Jackson and a Jefferson to mark that specific year—that brought whoops.) Then, just a week ago, on trash day, as I was sipping a coffee inside, I heard someone rolling the empty trash containers down my long driveway. I jumped up and ran outside. I met one of the guys who was bringing my cans up to the carport. I said, “I appreciate that, but you really don’t have to do that.” He replied, “We do this only for someone we appreciate.” He smiled, turned, and sprinted for the truck that had already moved down the street to another house. I had acknowledged his/their dignity and humanity months and years earlier. Now, this government worker, whose labor is unheralded yet so essential, was giving me his gift of recognition. I wonder if anyone else in the neighborhood has said thank you to those sanitation workers, those other government workers— local, state, and national—who serve our many public needs. We take them for granted . . . until they are gone. It seems to me they need our understanding and extra support right now as we figure out how to stop the madness coming from on top.
Thank you for all these stories that you have shared, Tim. I think we need these moments of recognition and mutual encouragement now more than ever. We need to know that we are not alone in our worries and fears. This can perhaps lead to a sense of shared purpose and action.
Thanks for your poignant comments last evening on Amanpour & Co. I had just yesterday messaged a NMAAHC curator to express my deep concern and offer support.
A wonderful piece, Tiya. Wanted to let you know that at the Autry Museum in LA, we’ve been working on an exhibition for 2026 titled, “Life, Liberty and LA,” which will be a response to the 2026 commemoration from the point of view of Los Angeles. We will be highlighting stories of Angelenos who have worked together, sometimes in unexpected ways, to claim the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I hope you will come and see it when we open in May 2026!
Thanks for this. A season living in the DC area made me a fan of federal workers, and their expertise in particular areas. And Columbia University giving in to Trump is chilling, as you say. Glad to see that U Penn is ignoring him.
Btw, while we’re here, I just started reading Night Flyer, and it’s so beautiful. It’s a treat to get a more full picture of Harriet Tubman and her spirituality.
Living near a National Lakeshore, surrounded by a National Forest, and site of a USFWS center, I know people who have lost jobs they love and came to from loving the natural world and a keen sense of public service. The disruption to their lives is a travesty and the loss of these fine stewards will be felt deeply. My brother works for the VA. Eighteen people in his office have lost their jobs. We need to keep talking about the assault on our people, our country, our freedoms.
I would also recommend reading Maria Ressa's "How to Stand Up to a Dictator," and and/or listen to her interview with Jon Stewart on his podcast.
On a completely different (yet related) note, the current censorship/re-writing of our history is chilling.
The pain imposed upon current and now recently fired federal employees that spreads across the country is felt acutely here in the suburbs of DC. Support groups are active in churches, social services agencies, and community organizations. Fear is everywhere: What do we do now? Where do we go? Can I support my family? What about the children?
Last Thursday, I was at the Post Office, dropping off our tax return to send by certified mail. As the transaction was nearing completion, I cynically said to the clerk, a familiar face I’d seen often over the years, “I’m getting this done early; I just don’t know what trouble’s coming next,” hinting at Trump’s latest and promised destruction throughout government and society. She paused a moment and then leaned her head around the Covid shield. I leaned in, too, as I sensed she was anxious to share something of herself. “We [all the postal workers there] are so afraid. I’ve been here so many years. What he’s [Trump] is doing is so-o-o wrong.” I said something I hoped might show empathy as I left the counter for the next person waiting in line.
I read the stories in the news and the posts on Facebook. I talk to neighbors and call friends and family who are or might know of someone fired, purged, erased, and suffering the trauma of quick fixes to “unnecessary excess and fraudulent” federal government.
Before retiring a decade ago, I worked for a contractor working for the Department of Education. I knew many DoED employees individually and worked with Dr. Peggy Carr and her team, all career federal employees. The mission: help improve the nation’s public education system and children directly. All workers were dedicated and hard-working, apolitical, neither fraudsters nor wasteful of public money. Their DoED office was just closed by DOGE; I don’t know if any of these employees were thrown away or could survive in different roles. Permanent damage to individual careers and institutions will negatively impact all Americans. The brain drain alone may never recover. But the purge goes well beyond the top levels; the clerks and receptionists and drivers and cleaning crews and lunch vendors, many of marginal economic circumstances and minority status, get hurt in the ripples. Make no mistake; this is a white supremacist-inspired putsch threatening not only ordinary individuals but the environment, social order, and all humanity. I cannot look away.
For years, each Christmas season, I went outside to the street curb early on trash day to wait for the sanitation trucks (one for recyclables, another for yard waste, yet another for all the rest). Throughout the year, I noticed these workers performing really dangerous, dirty, thankless, and underappreciated work—and on my behalf! I waved the trucks to a stop, said how I saw them, really saw them, and said how much I appreciated them and their work. I handed each individual a Jackson. (In 2022 it was a Jackson and a Jefferson to mark that specific year—that brought whoops.) Then, just a week ago, on trash day, as I was sipping a coffee inside, I heard someone rolling the empty trash containers down my long driveway. I jumped up and ran outside. I met one of the guys who was bringing my cans up to the carport. I said, “I appreciate that, but you really don’t have to do that.” He replied, “We do this only for someone we appreciate.” He smiled, turned, and sprinted for the truck that had already moved down the street to another house. I had acknowledged his/their dignity and humanity months and years earlier. Now, this government worker, whose labor is unheralded yet so essential, was giving me his gift of recognition. I wonder if anyone else in the neighborhood has said thank you to those sanitation workers, those other government workers— local, state, and national—who serve our many public needs. We take them for granted . . . until they are gone. It seems to me they need our understanding and extra support right now as we figure out how to stop the madness coming from on top.
Thank you for all these stories that you have shared, Tim. I think we need these moments of recognition and mutual encouragement now more than ever. We need to know that we are not alone in our worries and fears. This can perhaps lead to a sense of shared purpose and action.
Thanks for your poignant comments last evening on Amanpour & Co. I had just yesterday messaged a NMAAHC curator to express my deep concern and offer support.
A wonderful piece, Tiya. Wanted to let you know that at the Autry Museum in LA, we’ve been working on an exhibition for 2026 titled, “Life, Liberty and LA,” which will be a response to the 2026 commemoration from the point of view of Los Angeles. We will be highlighting stories of Angelenos who have worked together, sometimes in unexpected ways, to claim the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I hope you will come and see it when we open in May 2026!
Thanks, Virginia! I'm very glad to learn about this Autry Museum exhibition scheduled for 2026.
Thanks for this. A season living in the DC area made me a fan of federal workers, and their expertise in particular areas. And Columbia University giving in to Trump is chilling, as you say. Glad to see that U Penn is ignoring him.
That's a good point, Mary. I hope Penn can hold on!
Btw, while we’re here, I just started reading Night Flyer, and it’s so beautiful. It’s a treat to get a more full picture of Harriet Tubman and her spirituality.
Living near a National Lakeshore, surrounded by a National Forest, and site of a USFWS center, I know people who have lost jobs they love and came to from loving the natural world and a keen sense of public service. The disruption to their lives is a travesty and the loss of these fine stewards will be felt deeply. My brother works for the VA. Eighteen people in his office have lost their jobs. We need to keep talking about the assault on our people, our country, our freedoms.
I would also recommend reading Maria Ressa's "How to Stand Up to a Dictator," and and/or listen to her interview with Jon Stewart on his podcast.
On a completely different (yet related) note, the current censorship/re-writing of our history is chilling.