Something devastating and deeply un-American is happening right here in Atlanta, the city once known as the public health capital of the world.
On Oct. 10, another 1,300 employees of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention received late-night reduction-in-force (RIF) notices. The next day, 700 of those notices were rescinded, a “glitch,” according to the Department of Health and Human Services. But it was just the latest stomach-dropping plunge in a rollercoaster that began earlier this year. It is estimated that 1,700 epidemiologists, researchers, data analysts, behavioral scientists and communications experts here in Atlanta have been forced out of the very agency that once stood as the global gold standard for protecting human health.
During the recent RIF, the entire Human Resources department was terminated, leaving these professionals in a cruel kind of bureaucratic captivity. They cannot access their government email. They cannot apply for other positions. They cannot accept pay from other jobs without ethics approval. They cannot even reach HR to appeal their status. And there is no one to issue their separation notices so they can apply for unemployment.
It is a deliberate cruelty that mocks their service and the scientific integrity that once defined the CDC.
You cannot replace 1,700 public health professionals in the private sector. Their expertise and their sense of duty are irreplaceable. Yet this administration treats their life’s work as disposable.
But here’s what they didn’t count on: public servants who refuse to disappear.
Through Public Service to Public Power, a program I helped launch to train and pay displaced federal and public health professionals to work on Georgia’s most competitive legislative campaigns, I have had the honor of getting to know these folks. They are scientists, data analysts, project managers and policy communicators. Most are moms. All are lifelong civil servants determined to keep serving the public, even if it’s not at the CDC.
One of them told me: “We have been illegally fired, vilified, dismissed and had over 500 rounds of bullets shot at us. And still yet, we cannot help ourselves but fight for the greater good. We have still got so much to give.”
She, like many in the group, must share her stories anonymously. Some are embroiled in litigation and appeals, while others fear dangerous political retribution.
Another shared that she and her husband, both CDC employees, received their termination emails at the same moment, just after 5 a.m. in early April. “We were absolutely shell-shocked,” she said. “We both lost not just our jobs, but our careers and passions, at the same time.”
She remembers the chaos that followed: two young children under four, no income and the looming question of whether they would have to sell their home. Grateful when her husband’s termination was later rescinded, she began searching for meaning in her own loss and found it through our training program.
“I see this program as a way to fight back against issues that feel out of our control at the federal level,” she told me. “We need to be the change we want to see in the world, and that happens right here in our backyard.”
Another participant summed it up this way: “Public service gave me knowledge, a reduction in force gave me perspective and public power gives me purpose.”
One of the few participants able to go on record is Stacey Willocks. She has not only taken part in every training opportunity available but also helped identify and recruit a former CDC consultant now preparing to run for public office.
Our second training cohort recently completed its classroom work, marking another milestone for Public Service to Public Power. The goal is to train and deploy 10 to 15 displaced federal employees onto state legislative campaigns across Georgia. Several have already begun working part-time on campaigns while we continue raising the funds needed to place them full-time.
After nearly eight years in an increasingly divisive environment, it can be difficult to stay hopeful. Yet these public servants have renewed my faith in both humanity and Georgia’s future. Their courage is a reminder that integrity still matters, and that when people lead with truth and conviction — even after losing everything — they redefine what power looks like. They remind us that public service does not end when a job does; it transforms into something stronger, freer and unstoppable.
For decades, Atlanta has been the beating heart of global health. To see these experts treated like political enemies is a national disgrace. But in their resistance, there is hope, the kind born from people who refuse to let science or democracy die quietly.
On Tuesday, Nov. 11, 2025, we will gather in Decatur for Unmask the Resistance, a fundraising launch event supporting Public Service to Public Power. This evening of purpose and solidarity will honor these displaced professionals as they continue to fight for Georgia’s future through truth, science and service. Click here for more information.
Thank you for highlighting this issue!