Pour Moi Newsletter

Not Walking Alone

Not Walking Alone

Photo by Wonderlane on Unsplash

How are you doing? How are you feeling? If I’m being honest, I’m finding it challenging to stay grounded in joy lately, which explains my recent absence. There’s just so much going on in the world, and none of it feels entirely normal. Yet, as I look around, I see so many people seemingly moving forward as though it’s business as usual. Then again, can I really blame them?! If you’re familiar with my newsletters, you know I don’t shy away from sharing my reflections, even when they’re about things that are complicated.

Take, for instance, the recent federal changes happening here in the US. My school finally released a statement addressing these changes, but in its original statement, the tone felt cautious and passive. As a school of public health whose mission is to commit to health equity and the elimination of disparities, I have been sitting with this question: why isn’t there more urgency in addressing how these changes will affect our work? How will they impact the communities we serve moving forward let alone the school culture? Will research aimed at reducing barriers and improving health outcomes for those most in need be protected or will it be deemed “non-fundable”?

And that’s just one piece of it. Add to that the abrupt freezing of foreign aid and its resulting consequences. Countless of staff members—some of whom I know personally—are suddenly finding themselves looking for new jobs. In addition, the communities relying on this aid, will face countless setbacks. None of this feels normal. Beyond this very sad reality, I’ve also been grappling with broader questions about the aid system itself. For example, how much of our current “systems” truly promotes sustainability versus creating dependency? By “systems," I am referring to those infrastructures with power to impact and influence the public in some capacity such as organizations, school institutions, political systems, and so on. And in thinking about these structures or spaces where you would think advocacy and the centering the voices of the voiceless should be a priority, I’ve been disappointed by the silence or delayed responses.

I’d like to think of myself as a public health advocate so it’s no surprise that I feel a deep responsibility to act. Similar to clinicians who maintain and adhere to a Hippocratic oath, those of us in public health, also have a duty which is literally tied to improving the health and well-being of the public! Meaning, irrespective of politics, our role and work is to place the needs of the public, particularly the most vulnerable first. Knowing that, this is why I am puzzled by this silence. I’ve said this before in other conversations: if “we” (those of us, in particular, in these spaces) aren’t able to speak up for others then who will?

That said, even amid my frustration and impatience for action, I’ve also been looking inward. I do this often especially when seeking stillness and needing to ground myself despite the chaos. Allowing myself to go more inward doesn’t mean I’m disengaging or checking out. Rather, for me, it means taking the time to process and recalibrate. It’s about finding balance to then be able to contribute to the work of liberation in more meaningful ways, especially for populations that are often oppressed.

In these moments of reflection, I’ve reminded myself that we are stronger when we don’t try to navigate these challenges in isolation. Processing and even strategizing can feel less heavy when done in community. Despite how overwhelming or chaotic things may seem, I always come back to the belief that our collective power lies in listening to and leaning on each other.

With this in mind, I wanted to hold space for others to share their own thoughts. In this newsletter, I am featuring reflections from individuals who have bravely opened up and shared their perspectives during these challenging times. My hope is that their words will resonate with you and remind you, as they’ve reminded me, that while the path forward may feel uncertain, we don’t have to walk it alone.

Community Voices

Q: What strategies are you using to navigate the uncertainty or to stay grounded right now?

A: “As an educator, there is always uncertainty within our field, and we are faced with making lots of decisions daily to follow best practices for the growth and nurturing of our students. More specially, as a teacher educator, I am challenged with not only teaching content and strategies, but ensuring that I motivate future educational leaders. I try to empower others around me to keep after their purpose by tapping into the gifts they bring to their field. For example, I am an educator who also happens to be a recent children’s book author and I started my own publishing company. Writing is my creative outlet. As educators we are often not heard.  I share my journey as an author, professor, researcher, and publisher with others so that they may see that their ideas and voice are important to not only their students, but to all. Though it’s difficult at times, whatever field we are in, we have to uplift, reassure, and empower each other.”

—Dr. Kamshia Childs

Dr. Childs is a literacy professor, author, consultant, advocate and mentor to future and current educators. She has taught in public schools and universities in Kansas and Texas for over twenty years. Her research interests include literacy, student success, culturally relevant pedagogy, differentiation of curriculum, digital literacies, and parent involvement.

Q: What role do you see for yourself—or for all of us—in advancing health equity and building more sustainable solutions?

A: “Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the tension between resilience and rest. The urgency of addressing inequities—especially in health—has only intensified with recent shifts in policy and funding. These changes present real challenges, but they also push us to reimagine how we advocate for health equity and systemic change. Sustainability in this work requires balance—a dynamic interplay between action and reflection. I am committed to staying engaged, adapting with intention, and ensuring that our efforts not only respond to the moment but also build lasting, transformative solutions. Now more than ever, we must channel our energy into strategies that uplift and empower the communities most affected—because change isn’t just necessary, it’s possible.”

—Martine Domond

Martine Domond is a Research Fellow at Brigham & Women's Hospital, Harvard University, with a focus on infectious diseases and global health management.

Q: What’s a reflection that has been top of mind for you lately?

A: “….Transitions can feel like both an ending and a beginning. When I first joined USAID, I poured myself into the mission, the urgency, and the responsibility of advancing global health. For me, this work wasn’t just a career move—it was deeply personal. As a Salvadoran immigrant, I understood the direct impact of foreign aid, not as an abstract concept, but as a force that determines whether people live or die, whether they can dream beyond survival.

But working in global health and humanitarian aid has also revealed the weight of bureaucracy—how it can add layers of complexity and create barriers to effective service delivery. Oversight and efficiency matter, but they don’t have to be antagonistic to human dignity. We must rethink how bureaucracy operates—not by eliminating structure, but by ensuring it serves the people it’s meant to help. This means placing human dignity at the center of every decision and recognizing that the current stop work order fails to achieve that. Aid isn’t just about numbers—it’s about lives.

As I navigate uncertainty, I am choosing to focus on what I can control—my health, my mindset, and my purpose. The mission doesn’t end because of a job title. It lives in the way I continue advocating, showing up, and pushing for a future where no one is left behind. Recently, I was selected for the 2025 United to Beat Malaria Leadership Summit via the United Nations Foundation, where I will meet with congressional offices to advocate for global health funding at a time when it is most at risk. I will do what I can with what I have—because countless others depend on us

When we invest in global health, we prevent disease outbreaks from spreading across borders and strengthen international stability. A healthier world means a safer, more secure America—and, like thousands of other Americans devoted to this field, I will remain committed to saving lives, reducing poverty, and promoting human rights.” 

—Farid Abarca Realegeno

Farid A. Realegeno is a former Program Analyst in the Pediatric and Maternal Clinical Branch at USAID, where he contributed to shaping global pediatric and maternal HIV/AIDS programs in over 50 PEPFAR-supported countries.

P.S. I would love to feature more voices from YOU in the future. If you feel inspired to share your thoughts or experiences, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me!

Until next time, I leave you with the thought below:

(1) How do we, as individuals and as a collective, confront and challenge systems that perpetuate inequities? (2) What role can we play in building sustainable solutions that actually uplift and empower all communities?

Write it down or say it to yourself.

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