People Are Getting RIF Notices. Please Say This to Them.
The news of Reduction in Force notices are hard for us all. Please reach out respectfully to your peers and colleagues with these tips on what to say.
Many in our community have been on pins and needles since January. So many questions. So few answers. All the rumors. The shifting priorities.
Even though many of us saw this coming—with daily, sometimes hourly changes—actual RIF notices are hitting differently. Reading them aloud with my partner stopped us in our tracks.
Many of our friends, colleagues, and my therapy clients were impacted. We knew the inevitable was coming, but actually seeing it in writing was gut-wrenching.
So if you're feeling shocked, numb, angry, relieved, or something else entirely—know that you're not alone. There's no “right” way to receive this kind of news. And there’s no perfect way to support someone through it, either.
I am Huong Diep, PsyD, ABPP, a psychologist, an eligible family member (EFM), and someone who deeply values this community.
I've been mulling the question: What does it really mean to show up right now?
Here’s what I’ve learned—through my work, and through my own imperfect efforts to offer empathy and connection.
What Not to Say (Even If It’s Well-Meaning)
Here are a few things people often say with the best of intentions—yet they can land in ways that feel dismissive or disconnecting:
“At least you have a severance.” This skips over the emotional impact and goes straight to logistics. It can feel like you’re trying to wrap up their grief before they’ve even begun processing it.
“Everything happens for a reason.” Maybe that feels true later—but in the moment, it can come off as patronizing.
“You’ll be fine—you’re so talented.” Meant to reassure, but it often feels like it brushes past very real fear and grief.
“This could be the best thing that ever happened to you!” Too soon. A silver lining isn’t helpful if someone’s still in shock.
“You’re lucky you’re not the only one.” Being part of a wave doesn’t make it less painful. Comparison rarely comforts.
“Have you thought about pivoting into [insert suggestion]?” Unless they ask, don’t offer a career strategy session. Most folks need presence, not pressure.
“I probably shouldn’t talk about my job around you right now.” This often comes from guilt, but it can shift the emotional labor onto them. It can also isolate them further.
What to Say Instead
Empathy isn’t about solving—it’s about seeing. It’s about saying: I may not fully understand what you’re going through, but I’m here.
Try saying something like this:
“I’m really sorry this happened. I’m here for you.”
“I don’t have the right words, but I want you to know you’re not alone.”
“Would it help to talk, vent, walk, or just sit together quietly?”
“Want me to send you job leads when I see them, or would you prefer space for now?”
“I’ll check in next week, no pressure to respond.”
Avoid Putting the Burden on Them
“Let me know if you need anything” sounds helpful—but it puts the emotional weight back on the person who’s already overwhelmed.
Offer something specific instead:
“I’m stopping by with coffee/lunch. What’s your go-to order?”
“I’m headed to the store. Need anything?”
“I’ve got time this weekend. Want to hang out or just take a walk?”
“Need a second set of eyes on your resume, or just someone to listen?”
Concrete, low-pressure offers go a long way.
How to Support Others Without Burning Out
You can care deeply and set boundaries. Supporting someone doesn’t mean you have to absorb their pain.
Here’s what that might sound like:
“I want to support you, and I’m also taking care of my own energy. I might not always be available to talk, but I’m thinking of you.”
“This feels like a lot to carry. Have you thought about talking with someone—a therapist or coach—who can help you process everything?”
Support can look like presence, resource-sharing, or simply not disappearing.
Please Show Up Now
There’s no perfect script for showing up. You don’t have to fix the situation (nor can you) or say the ideal thing.
You just have to show up with heart.
Please contact your RIF’ed peers today. Right now if you can. They will treasure your outreach for life.
This RIF cycle is affecting more than just direct-hire staff. It’s hitting contractors, consultants, NGO workers—the entire ecosystem. And in moments like these, presence matters more than trying to find the perfect words (which doesn’t exist!).
If you're navigating this yourself, or walking alongside someone who is, I hope this offers something useful for the road ahead.
Only a small part of this is about job loss. Our USAID friends and family have been called "fraudsters" and "criminals," "lazy" and "freeloaders" by the country they have served so loyally, and for which they have sacrificed so much. The sense of betrayal is enormous, and betrayal runs at a deeper level than simply the loss of a job, an income, benefits, or housing. In addition, our USAID families in the field know for certain than many people under their care will die. What words have we got to offer for that??
This is Ring Theory 101. Provide comfort to those experiencing a loss, and express your anger / dismay / fear to those in outer rings. Do not expect those grieving to manage your own fear or grief, or tell you what to do.
But there is no ring theory that addresses the experience of ten thousand people getting their passion and livelihood and life's work ripped away over the course of two months of constant setbacks and losses. This is a mass casualty event. *There is no single ring.*
So what do we do? We are all part of each other's rings. We provide comfort to each other.
We take it one day at a time.