A few weeks ago, in a windowless hotel ballroom in Washington, DC, I sat in a conference room full of school administrators from around the world as they received increasingly urgent messages about the dismantling of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), and began processing the devastating impact on the families they serve. Their stillness and silence made their shock, worry, and grief physically palpable: In the name of saving taxpayer dollars equal to less than the cost of a dozen bombers - and now in continued defiance of a court order - the Trump administration is intent on cuts that will strand thousands of American children in foreign countries, trigger international funding crises, and surrender diplomatic influence built through a program that has helped shape hearts and minds around the globe for decades.
A conference meant to be a gathering of colleagues planning for our students' future instead became a vigil of bewildered professionals trying to decode contradictory directives cascading from administration offices. The scene underlined how quickly "government efficiency" can shatter real lives.
The implications hit like aftershocks: roughly three thousand American children will suddenly be uprooted from their schools; their parents' legal status in foreign nations will evaporate; and many of these families who have no permanent homes in the U.S. or otherwise will be left adrift. A federal judge temporarily barred the agency from putting workers on leave as planned, agreeing that the move could create “irreparable harms” to USAID families, finances, and security overseas.
As a consultant who works with international schools serving American students abroad and the adult child of a family that served USAID for two decades, I understood their bewilderment. "There is no way that people in the U.S. can imagine what this means," one head of a school in western Europe told me, requesting anonymity. "For those of us who have lived abroad and educated the children of American diplomats, it's terrifying. This isn't just about USAID - it's about America's standing in the world and what happens when we abandon our posts."
It is also about the children.
USAID, a cornerstone of American diplomacy since 1961, currently has over 2,500 Americans on assignment in 60 countries. These public servants and their families carry America's promise across borders. In 2023 alone, they helped manage $40 billion in foreign assistance, pulling children from the depths of poverty, rushing aid to communities torn apart by disaster, and building the diplomatic bridges that make America safer and stronger. Since 2009, their maternal and child health programs have saved 4.6 million children and 200,000 women, protected 6 million lives through malaria prevention, and helped rebuild communities in crisis across the globe.
The children of USAID families belong to a unique tribe: those who choose to be citizens of the world rather than a single nation. Their lives abroad create a particular kind of vulnerability - frequent moves, distance from families, exposure to political violence - one that forges deep bonds across borders and cultures. I have seen how these school communities become more than classrooms - they are islands of stability in lives marked by constant change.
The educators’ panicked questions were existential: What happens to families whose right to stay in foreign countries depends on their USAID credentials? U.S. government employees assigned overseas are granted allowances intended to pay for an education equivalent to public schools in the United States. Many of these allowances are paid directly to schools, and many of those schools have not yet been paid their full tuition fees, leaving heads of schools wondering how they will pay their contracted teachers. What do they tell a teenager whose AP exams – and college dreams – might vanish overnight? How do they comfort a child watching their parents pack up their entire world with no opportunity to say goodbye to friends and cherished adults?
This administration believes it has a mandate for change. Forty-nine percent of Americans who cast a ballot in November 2024 – only 32 percent of Americans – voted for Donald Trump, whose explicit campaign promises to dismantle America’s administrative state are being implemented with efficient ferocity. But even if we accept this administration's insistence that USAID workers must be dismissed, indeed, we can protect these employees' children, mostly American citizens, who never voted for their displacement. Unlike natural disasters or global pandemics, this storm comes with an off switch if Congress or this administration chooses to use it.
Republicans and Democrats should act in the best interest of these students by ensuring that, regardless of what form the new American order ultimately takes, USAID families can complete the current academic year in their assigned countries and plan for where they will continue their schooling. This should include extending employees’ formal assignments to ensure they retain their visas.
While the shutdown of government offices and emails makes it hard to confirm the exact dollar amount, Congress must ensure that the current academic year’s funding for international schools serving approximately 2000 USAID families is disbursed as already authorized by Congress so schools do not bear the burden of funding shortfalls.
We must all call on America’s leaders to mitigate the human fallout of this administration's determination to dismantle our nation's administrative agencies and programs. Perhaps there are ways for America to be organized that do not rely on existing systems, which many of us recognize have shortcomings. However, within a complex infrastructure, it is hard to anticipate exactly what might happen when we change one piece.
While Americans struggle to find common ground, we can agree that our children should not pay the price of hasty change. We face a moment when doing right by our youngest citizens aligns perfectly with political wisdom, ideological integrity, and moral necessity. America must care for the families and the educators who choose to serve us, whether at home or abroad.
Ulcca Joshi Hansen, PhD, JD is a futurist, the author of the award-winning book The Future of Smart, and a Paul & Daisy Soros Public Voices Fellow of The OpEd Project. Her research and writing focus on the social impact on communities during periods of rapid social change.




















image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.