Employment Equity

What It Feels Like to Be Called 'Non-Essential' by Your Own Government

A weathered metal sign reading "Government Closed" is attached to a black iron fence, with the U.S. Capitol building blurred in the background.

Shutdowns don't just stop paychecks. They chip away at people.

If you've never lived through one, it's easy to think it's just bureaucracy. Temporary. Inconvenient.

It's not.

I've been through shutdowns before, but this one feels different.

Maybe it's because I've seen too many people I care about wake up to RIF notices after decades of public service.

People I worked alongside. People who trained me. People who gave everything to this government only to be told they are no longer essential. My former colleagues at USPTO are among them. Some of the most dedicated professionals I've ever known. Their careers ended not with ceremony or dignity, but with silence.

Cruel actions from a supposed model employer.

That word. Non-essential. It doesn't just hit your paycheck. It hits your purpose.

It is an emotional body blow.

And for disabled federal employees, it hits even harder.

Shutdowns pause more than systems. They stall accommodation requests. They cut off the very processes that allow us to do our jobs in the first place. Timelines get frozen. Cases fall through the cracks. And no one knows when things will pick back up.

And the timing? It's National Disability Employment Awareness Month.

We can post about inclusion all day, but the reality is that thousands of disabled public servants are currently locked out. Some temporarily. Some permanently. And there is no guarantee that access, or dignity, is coming back.

Meanwhile, our own administration is publicly mocking us.

The official The White House YouTube account posted a montage of clips from The Office, meant to portray federal employees as lazy and useless. At the exact moment we're being furloughed, RIF'd, and dragged through bureaucratic uncertainty, the Executive Branch is laughing at us.

And if that weren't enough, we've been given official "guidance" on what to include in our out-of-office replies. Language that leans partisan. Messaging that doesn't feel neutral or respectful but instead feels like we're being used as pawns in a larger political game. WIRED reports U.S. Department of Education unilaterally changed employee’s out of office to reflect that language.

Our own government is mocking us and demeaning the work we do.

Canine Companions® Lovey knows something is off. She's been glued to me since this started. Watching more closely. Laying a little closer. Matching her breathing to mine.

Because this isn't just about politics or policy.

It's about people.

To every civil servant who is furloughed, fired, or just trying to hold it together: You are not disposable. And you deserved better than this.

To everyone else: please be kind to your federal friends. We are not okay. We are doing our best to survive.

Disability Accommodations at Work: Why Employees Fear Speaking Up

A diverse group of professionals, including wheelchair users and employees with headphones, collaborate in a modern office, promoting workplace inclusion and accessibility.

Who gets to be "disabled enough"?

That’s the uncomfortable debate unfolding in workplaces across the country—and one I recently discussed in The Wall Street Journal alongside Justina Plowden and Keely Cat-Wells.

As more employees request accommodations, some worry we’re stretching the definition of disability too far. But here’s the real question: Are we diluting the meaning of disability, or are we finally acknowledging the full spectrum of barriers people face?

Here’s where I stand: Pitting disabilities against each other is dangerous. It’s not up to me, an employer, or anyone else to decide whose disability is “valid enough” to deserve support. If someone says they need an accommodation, believe them. Full stop.

And yet, many disabled employees don’t feel safe disclosing their disability at all. Why? Because they know what happens next:

🚫 They’re seen as less competent.
🚫 They’re overlooked for promotions.
🚫 They’re often the first to go in layoffs.

This is why so many people don’t ask for accommodations, even when they’re legally entitled to them. It’s not simply that remote work itself makes disabled employees more vulnerable—it’s that stigma and workplace bias make disclosing a disability a risk.

I appreciate WSJ and Callum Borchers for giving space to this conversation, and I hope it pushes more employers to rethink how they support disabled workers—both those who disclose and those who don’t.

Disabled Workers Debate Who Is Really One of Us