The Future of Development: The Book Isn’t Finished

Earlier this month marked one year since thousands of us at USAID were separated from the agency through the Reduction in Force. While the legal battles continue, I’ve found myself in a different place emotionally than I was a year ago. I’ve come to terms with the fact that this chapter of my career ended far more abruptly than I ever imagined.

But I don’t believe the book is finished.

Over the past year, much of the conversation has focused on what was lost. As I look ahead, I’m more interested in what comes next. Whether under this administration or a future one, there will eventually be conversations about what American foreign assistance should look like in its next iteration. Those conversations matter because while institutions may change, the challenges they were created to address have not disappeared.

I spent nearly 16 years at USAID, and despite everything that has happened, I remain grateful for the opportunities I had. I worked alongside incredibly talented colleagues who dedicated their careers to improving lives around the world. I had the privilege of supporting humanitarian response, food security, global health, private sector engagement, and development programs across multiple regions. It was meaningful work, and I will always be proud to have been part of it.

Like any large organization, however, USAID had both strengths and frustrations.

Government is inherently complex. Layers of approvals, procurement rules, congressional directives, legal reviews, and changing priorities often made even straightforward decisions difficult. Development work requires balancing accountability with flexibility, and that is never an easy task.

One of the most valuable lessons I took away from my years at USAID had little to do with development programming itself.

It was leadership.

I was fortunate to work for several exceptional supervisors who invested in their teams, encouraged professional growth, and demonstrated that good leadership is every bit as important as technical expertise. They created environments where people wanted to do their best work.

I also experienced the other side of leadership. Like many large organizations, USAID sometimes promoted highly capable technical experts into management positions without ensuring they had the interpersonal or people-management skills needed to lead effectively. The result could be stressful workplaces where communication suffered, morale declined, and the pressures of work often followed employees home.

Those experiences shaped me just as much as the positive ones. They taught me the kind of leader I hope to be—and the kind I hope never become. As discussions begin about the future of development institutions, I hope leadership development becomes part of the conversation. Strong technical expertise will always matter, but organizations are only as strong as the people entrusted to lead them.

One memory has stayed with me over the years.

I remember drafting talking points explaining why USAID programming was important in countering the growing influence of the People’s Republic of China. One of the central messages was that American assistance offered countries something different. Our partnerships sought to strengthen local institutions, improve governance, build resilience, and create lasting relationships.

That distinction mattered then, and I believe it still matters today.

At the same time, I think the future of development requires us to better articulate why foreign assistance matters not only to people overseas, but also to the American people.

Foreign assistance should absolutely continue to save lives, respond to disasters, and promote stability. But it should also clearly demonstrate how it advances American national security, strengthens our economy, and supports American workers and businesses.

Food for Peace has long been an example of that approach. While feeding millions around the world, the program also supported American farmers, agricultural producers, and the U.S. maritime industry. It demonstrated that foreign assistance can create benefits both overseas and here at home.

As we think about the next chapter of development, I believe we should look for more opportunities where American innovation, agriculture, technology, manufacturing, and private enterprise can play a role. Development does not have to be viewed solely as assistance. It can also be an investment in stronger partnerships, more stable markets, and a safer, more prosperous future for everyone involved.

The world has changed dramatically since USAID was established more than six decades ago. Today’s challenges include strategic competition, food insecurity, pandemics, migration, climate shocks, cybersecurity, and rapidly evolving technologies. The institutions we build for the future should reflect those realities.

I don’t pretend to have all the answers. After a year away from government, I have more questions than certainty.

How do we make development more agile without sacrificing accountability?

How do we reduce unnecessary bureaucracy while maintaining strong oversight?

How do we foster innovation while ensuring taxpayer dollars are spent responsibly?

How do we better connect development investments to America’s long-term security and economic interests?

Those are the conversations I hope we begin having.

Losing my career at USAID was never part of my plan. Like many former colleagues, I continue to process the end of an institution that shaped much of my professional life.

But I also believe that endings create space for new beginnings.

The first chapter of American foreign assistance may have closed.

I don’t believe the story is over.

I think we’re simply waiting to write the next one.

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About Me

I am a displaced federal worker and the creator behind this blog.

For nearly two decades, I served at USAID, leading programs in global health and humanitarian response. Then life shifted — I became my father’s caregiver, lost him, and watched the career I had built be dismantled.

Now, I’m rebuilding from scratch. Bureaucrat to Baby Steps is where I share the messy, hopeful journey of loss, legacy, and motherhood — one small step at a time.

This space is less about polished advice and more about real stories of transition, caregiving, and becoming a mother on my own terms.