Their lifesaving work may have been halted, but their commitment to a safer, healthier world lives on. Because when purpose runs deep, the work never truly ends.
A Tuesday evening in early May was one of those nights. At a bar in DC, former colleagues and friends gathered—not in denial of the grief they were carrying, but with determination in the face of it. With dogs lounging under picnic tables and toddlers toddling between conversations about HIV care access and grassroots aid, the drinks were USAID-themed, and the mood was defiant.
“It’s not drinking, it’s donating!” one guest joked. But behind the laughter was a serious purpose: to raise money for HIV programs suddenly defunded by the halt in US foreign aid.
This wasn’t just a fundraiser, and it wasn’t just about grief. It was about a refusal to be shut down.
The effort began months earlier, led by a small group of determined public servants—among them Maury, a longtime USAID staffer. When the funding vanished, Maury and her colleagues Deborah and Alex didn’t wait. They launched a fundraiser on GlobalGiving’s platform in late January. Within one week, they had already raised $30,000.
“No big team. No roadmap. Just heartbreak, urgency, and a deep sense of responsibility,” GlobalGiving CEO Victoria Vrana wrote in admiration after attending the event.
When Maury received the chilling email in January, she had just ten minutes to pack up her office before being escorted out—the place where she had planned to spend the rest of her career. The place she loved, alongside colleagues who had become friends. Her email and phone were cut off. Her work to support children who lost their parents due to HIV/AIDS suddenly frozen.
But amidst that disruption, she joined together with her former colleagues. What sparked the launch wasn’t just panic—it was connection.
During a personal call with one previous USAID organization, Maury began the conversation by asking, “How are you doing?” He paused. “You’re the first person to ask that,” he said. “Everyone else just says, ‘I need this, I need that. It is chaos.”
That moment clarified everything. “We needed to act,” Maury said.
She put out a message on Signal. Deborah was the first to write back. Then Alex. No more titles or agencies—just a small group of people who refused to walk away.
To date, they have raised more than $50,000 and are continuing to find new funding sources for these organizations. What began as an emergency response evolved into a full-time mission for the group. “I felt a moral obligation to do something after working for so long with these organizations,” Deborah said.
They didn’t just stop at fundraising—they worked tirelessly to connect trusted local organizations to new sources of support, often racing against deadlines and bureaucratic obstacles. They collaborated closely with Chase Williams, GlobalGiving’s Associate Director of Global Grantmaking, whose expertise helped accelerate and expand the reach of their efforts.
Together, this quiet coalition of former public servants, grassroots partners, and nonprofit leaders wove a small lifeline for communities suddenly cut off.
Four local organizations recently received donations from the fundraiser, and another Happy Hour fundraiser is underway. For Maury, Debbie, and Alex, the motivation comes from a place of profound personal concern. As Alex said, “For me, it’s a responsibility and duty to serve others, to help improve their healths, livelihoods, and well-being. It’s a calling, not something that just stops overnight.”
“This isn’t about agencies or politics. It’s about people; the relationships we’ve built over years. That’s what we’re fighting for.”—Maury
That Tuesday evening at a DC bar wasn’t just a fundraiser—it was a reunion. Former colleagues, friends, and partners gathered not only to reconnect, but to reaffirm their commitment to work the government had abruptly halted.
“I thought I’d spend the rest of my life at USAID,” Maury said. “I loved my job, and this fundraiser has been a lifeline through all of it.”
The event was also a quiet rebuttal to critics who claimed these public servants weren’t showing up. They did—right up until the doors closed behind them. And here they were again, reminding the world the work doesn’t end with their titles.
Three months into a world without USAID, many are charting new paths—some as therapists, teachers, or community organizers. Alex is exploring roles in evidence-based health, Maury may pivot to social work, and Deborah still hopes to return to global health beyond USAID.
Their jobs may have been taken from them, but their sense of responsibility to humanity can never be stolen.
They are still here. Still showing up. Still working. Still reminding us all why this work still matters.
Together, they send a powerful message to organizations and communities around the world:
The American people—and the public servants who’ve dedicated their lives to global aid—are not defined by the politics of the day. They stand apart: still working, still caring, still fighting for the values they believe in.
Featured Photo: USAID employees stand with GlobalGiving employees at a fundraiser for halted programs by Fundraiser for Lifesaving Health ServicesFind exactly what you're looking for in our Learn Library by searching for specific words or phrases related to the content you need.
