Hands from a diverse team stack on a table symbolizing unity and teamwork in a modern office setting.

The Detriment of False Narratives

Trigger warning: I do make a small reference to suicide in this post.  

I’ve struggled to articulate my reaction to the recent developments in our federal workforce. The discriminatory practices and fear tactics aimed at intimidating and reducing federal personnel are appalling. To my colleagues in the federal system, I see you and the challenges you are facing. I stand in solidarity with you and I am saddened by what you are experiencing. 

It’s unsettling how federal workers are being marginalized. What is happening in the federal system is a microcosm of what is happening in our nation. As a country, we struggle to recognize the humanity of the other side. We all have our blind spots, myself included, but it is dangerous to accept false narratives as truth and shape our actions and behaviors accordingly. You can replace federal workers with groups like immigrants, women, people of color, the working class, or members of the LGBTQ community. I’ve seen this same rhetoric of viewing groups as less than, pathologizing them, and deeming them deserving of harm in both my professional and personal life. Now, the federal workforce is the victim of this dangerous rhetoric: They are lazy and inefficient and therefore do not deserve their jobs. I hope to challenge this false narrative by sharing my own experience in federal service. 

I spent the first part of my career at the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA), one of the largest federal agencies, as a Licensed Clinical Psychologist. I know firsthand that federal employees and the individuals and families they serve are among the hardest working people. Many did not join the federal workforce for competitive salaries or cushy jobs, but to have a meaningful role and to be true public servants. Securing a federal position is also challenging and time-consuming as it requires specialized experience and performance-based interviews. I completed nine years of higher-level education in addition to two years of specialized internship and residency training before securing a permanent position in the federal workforce.

I had always wanted to work for the VA because of how much it helped my dad when I was growing up. In the 1990s, a VA social worker was the first to tell my dad, “I think you have PTSD,” following his combat tour in Vietnam, and where he received the help he needed. His experience had a direct impact on my initial career choice. Although he is no longer here, the honor and respect I have for my time at the VA and the veterans I served remains steadfast. I know I am not unique among my colleagues in providing integral support to our nation’s veterans. I’ve had patients tell me directly, “Doc, I would have killed myself if it wasn’t for you.” I’ve seen grown men reduced to tears as they share how they aren’t sure how to show love to their kids after returning from a combat tour. I’ve witnessed female veterans admitting they’ve been told their service doesn’t matter because they are women. I’ve reached out to families of deceased veterans to ensure their needs were met after their loved ones’ passing. Being labeled as inefficient, replaceable, or lazy federal workers is therefore incredibly disheartening. 

I recognize a part of this false perception is fueled by the expansion of remote roles in federal service and the idea that federal workers are not actually working while collecting a paycheck. During the last four years of my VA career, I worked in a completely virtual role. Contrary to being unproductive or checked out, I was able to maximize my time and serve our nation’s veterans more efficiently. Instead of wasting time commuting to a distant office, I started my day before most clinics opened and worked longer hours. I often had only short breaks throughout the day because my calendar was overbooked. Being a virtual employee allowed me to serve more veterans nationwide, not just within my city. My productivity often outpaced in-person offerings because of the flexibility and versatility of the virtual model. I served veterans and their partners who had been waiting months at their local site for couples counseling. I was able to screen and triage veterans in need of a higher level of care before they faced a medical or mental health crisis across sites and not just at one location. I wore many hats at the VA in program development, consultation, and trainee/staff training and was able to reach a larger base of both internal and external stakeholders because of the remote nature of my role. I will also admit that being a virtual provider kept me in the federal workforce much longer than if I had been mandated to report in person. Therefore, telework is a strong incentive for employee retention and was my experience in federal service. Forcing my colleagues, who also serve most of their clients and various stakeholders remotely, to return to an office that likely doesn’t have space for them and to see individuals who aren’t local to their site seems contrary to the goal of improved efficiency. I know their jobs are incredibly demanding, and threatening them only exacerbates the challenges they face day to day.

I fear the danger of the false narrative of federal workers will not only impact their livelihoods but the communities in which they are part of. For the US Department of Veterans Affairs, it will directly impact the services our nation’s veterans receive and serve as a catalyst for poorer health outcomes and even death. If federal workers fear they may be terminated at any time or are asked to respond to unnecessary queries, they will lose the focus and ability to provide exceptional care to our veterans and their morale will be depleted. I see the outrage and fear in response to what federal workers are experiencing now and know there are large sects of people in this country who are united in advocating against injustice. My hope is this post may also challenge the perception of those who remain indifferent. 

*As a reminder, this blog is for educational purposes only and should not be viewed as a substitute for mental health or medical guidance from your healthcare provider. If you or a loved one is experiencing an acute crisis, please contact 911 or the National Crisis line at 988.

*I am currently not an employee of federal service and the opinions voiced above are my own and not a reflection of the US Department of Veteran Affairs or other federal services.