The Reorg: Stress & Musical Chairs

I can't imagine there was a single Foreign Service Officer (FSO) in Washington DC, or even overseas, who didn't wake up scared on Friday, July 11. Many of us worried we would lose our jobs that day, and we all knew for sure that many of our colleagues would. What made the Reduction in Force (RIF) so jarring is that people at the State Department don't just consider their work a "job" but rather a career, or even a calling. We're not in it for the money or the privilege to live in DC. We care about the mission.

What also made it shocking is that mass firings of FSOs are uncommon. While reorganizations are somewhat expected in the private sector, at least periodically, diplomats, like military, are specifically hired to serve for 20+ years to specialize in rare diplomatic skills, like hard foreign languages. The State Department invests in diplomats (training, housing, shipping) and if you leave too early, you even owe them money!

This also explains why junior officers—as well as many senior officers—frequently accept positions they would never have considered in the private sector, like serving in dangerous/polluted/remote places, or to adjudicate thousands of visas for 2-4 years straight. You just can't compare a diplomat's career to, let's say, a software engineer. 

Reduction in Force (RIF)

July 11 came and went. Almost 250 FSOs and more than 1,000 civil servants were fired. We said our goodbyes, we applauded our colleagues, and we cried a little. Senators showed up to show support for the work and mission of the State Department. If you look closely at some of the press photos you might even see me as I recognize a colleague who leaves the building in a haze of tears.

The good thing for me, of course, is that I didn't get fired. It's also important to note, and I'm sure many FSOs agree with this, I'm not against reorganization, cost-cutting, efficiency, change, or shifting policy at all! I'm glad I live in a democracy where the periodic wind of change keeps everyone on their toes. There are great arguments to be made for both sides—understanding that is an inherent part of my job and my personality. So I still love my job.

Now that the RIF is over, the new organizational structure is crystallizing. And that's rough for some of us too. The office where I was going to work in the Bureau of Population, Refugees and Migration (PRM), the humanitarian assistance office (where I was going to work remotely from Africa), will be abolished. The entire mission of PRM is going to change, or at least its focus. Then again, I believe you can't rebuild things without breaking a few things first, and I think now we're in the broken part. The org chart is broken, some of the communication lines are broken, and maybe our spirit is a little broken, too. 

The optimistic fatalist in me

I have fatalistic tendencies, so even though I experienced the past few months as an emotional rollercoaster, because I really thought we were all getting riffed, I also thought: it figures. It's not natural for things, organizations in this case, to only ever get bigger, with endlessly more opportunities and job security, without taking a hit every once in a while. It was just surprising to me that the rules for the firings suddenly changed and the job security isn't what I thought it was.

I combine my fatalism with healthy doses of adaptability and curiosity, so I also started to think: what will I do next if I get fired? I had a lot of ideas! Now, to be honest, none of these were good, responsible career ideas. I was thinking more about taking a different path altogether, escape the rat race, and never return to Washington DC again. Just two weeks ago we spontaneously bought a house in East Oregon, which is about as far from DC as you can get. I dreamt of gardening, ultra marathons, having a dog, starting a brewery, and teaching.

I also tried to adopt a new mindset: living by the day. And to make those days fun! Kayaking on the Potomac, endless strolls and book reading at the National Mall, seeing shows at Wolftrap, eating every kind of ethnic cuisine imaginable, shopping my heart out... 

Bridge assignment in consular affairs 

It was not to be. When I notified HR that my office had vanished, I was immediately offered a temporary assignment at the consular affairs HQ. So I was still jobless but I didn't get time off! As soon as I reported to the office I was inundated with projects—nothing to write home about but still, important visa policy stuff. Until one day, about a week later, I'm perfunctorily checking the web for new vacancies within the Department. After all, I can't stay in my current office forever. The Department might be reorganizing, but my spouse still has a position in The Gambia and we're moving there in a month! 

What immediately strikes me as odd is that there are several PRM vacancies--some listed as recently as yesterday. How is that possible? The bureau got hit hard—more than half of the employees got sacked. So I shoot of an email to HR. As I'm writing it, I feel dumb for not having reached out to them sooner. They hired me nine months ago, then the RIF happened, and I never showed up there. But they simply encourage me to bid on the PRM vacancies. As it happens, they've just been given the green light to hire. Unfortunately, I have to compete with everybody else again.

Three days later, I have two interviews lined up. The position descriptions aren't entirely clear, because the reorganization is still ongoing and new org charts have not yet been produced. The interview is short and sweet. I'm asked about my entrepreneurialism and how I deal with lack of guidance and established procedures. Smart questions, given the situation. It's a good thing I've lived in seven different countries, including in not-so stable places like Pakistan and Nigeria, and I've had to find a job and a whole new way of life each time! I have a good feeling about the interview but I don't get my hopes up—there are probably a lot of other good candidates.

Surprise: I never lost my position!

The reason why the instability of my job is still bearable is because I always trust things will pan out more or less OK. It always has. Most people have some common sense and many of the mistakes are already being corrected. Like allowing me to keep my job! Only a few minutes after I complete my first interview HR informs me I can actually start my old job any time I want. No need to apply for a new one! Jaw drop. I'm leaving my temp job at consular affairs on Friday and clock in at PRM on Monday! 

Let me be clear: for the last few weeks I've been feeling pretty untethered. I gave up the hope to work for PRM, where I was looking forward to do meaningful work in the migration policy space. For months, I was starved for information. And yet. I never felt the need to give up and break my assignment, or make a real Plan B. I looked around for new positions but never stopped working. I mostly just went with the flow. Several colleagues took more drastic action, breaking their PRM assignments and moving to different bureaus to try to escape the ax. One of them is moving to the office I'm working in now—we're essentially swapping chairs! 

My emotions are mixed. I'm thrilled, relieved, and still a little confused. I'm also happy that, like me, many people who thought they lost their jobs were rehired. Still, I want to recognize the people who were truly fired. Some of them might be OK to move on, others might be lobbying to get their jobs back as we speak. Some are looking at a class action suit through the labor union. All of these are capable adults who, somehow, will figure it out. But my heart breaks for how they must be feeling right now. We've all been through the wringer.