I didn’t set my alarm last night; I got fired yesterday. Some would prefer that I say I was “let go” because it would sound nicer. There is nothing nice about what is happening. And “reduction in force” sounds like it was thoughtful and organized with a higher, better goal at the end. That’s a sanitized fantasy version of what it was: I was fired along with ~2400 colleagues that didn’t just reduce the workforce, it rewrote the country’s intention and ability to address public health issues, basic and emergencies.
It is a small consolation that losing my job had nothing to do with my job performance nor the importance of my work. I am (was…) great at my job and the important contribution of public health is indisputable. Well, indisputable to those who don’t think health should be a privilege. But let’s avoid the obvious elephant in the room, for now at least.
I got into public health in my mid-20’s, when I started my PhD in Health Education and Health Promotion. I wanted to make a difference. I’m a sucker for a Pollyanna dream such as dedicating your professional life to trying to make the world a better place for everyone and it will matter. I’d choose it again. I have been so proud of the work that I’ve done. And I have worked alongside absolutely incredible people from all over the world. Each of us trying to make the world a little healthier, life a little better for everyone.
It’s always been easy for me to see the connection between global health and domestic health. Simplistically put, even if you don’t care about your neighbors (which I do), it’s obvious that the health and stability in their home is related to the possibility of health and stability in yours.
Most of what I’ve worked on over the years has been reproductive health and HIV. I also worked on Zika, COVID, and Mpox outbreaks when CDC stood up emergency responses. We worked tirelessly during emergency responses because we never gave up, but we were exhausted. We worked all the time, often with a shortage of information, trying to do whatever we could to make things better for as many people as we could. We would identify and count cases, analyze patterns of transmission and impact of exposure, all to inform recommendations for prevention, care and treatment that were evidence-based. We never stopped trying.
The first time I was in an HIV ward in the late 90’s, I passed out. I literally fainted from the absolute pain and suffering that was all around me. At times I have chastised myself for that response, knowing that mine was psychological pain at witnessing others in the state of desperate suffering. There was no treatment. Other times I am grateful that I am hardwired to care about others so deeply. It is what has driven me. The work that we did over the years on HIV prevention, care and treatment changed the impact of HIV. A clinic in that state is rare to find these days. Or, was rare. The ending of our contribution to global public health will undoubtedly reverse the gains that we made over the years. People will die from things we could have prevented.
I have been doing a lot of hot yoga as my primary coping strategy this year. I love it because I can sweat a lot and no one cares. I leave each class drenched. Yesterday, I silently sobbed throughout the class, tears splashing down on my towel with audible force, mucus running down my face. I couldn’t stop. I cried for all of the people who will be hurt as a result of what is happening, the people who will not get their medications and support, access to care and treatment. I cried for the immigrants who are being treated inhumanely, without due process. I cried for the disruption to the local economy to have so much job loss, for the households that will struggle to support themselves. And of course, I cried for the loss of my career, for which I have dedicated 30 years of my life and of which I am so proud and eternally grateful. I’d choose it again.
I did not set my alarm this morning, but I hear the alarm bells ringing loudly and I am amplifying them. Do you hear them? Are you awake yet?
(Katina Pappas Delucca)
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More employees working for the Atlanta-based Centers for Disease Control and Prevention received notices on April 1 informing them that they were being laid off from the agency.
Many of those employees have organized a group called “Fired But Fighting.” Thank you to Health Beat for providing some of the reporting used in this story.
[Decaturish.com]