When I sat down for the podcast, I was as ready as I could be, or so I thought. I had lived every moment we were going to talk about. I had the stories, the data, the talking points. And still, I felt unprepared as I opened my laptop and met Leah through the screen.
And honestly? The conversation went really well. It was generous and grounding in a way I didn’t fully expect. It was the kind of exchange that reminded me why I ever committed to this work in the first place.
But there was one question at the very end that I stumbled over. I thought I could answer it. I tried, more than once, and each time I felt myself circling the point without ever quite landing it.
“What do you think those voices — the ones you captured as part of Holding the Line — would want Americans to understand about what was lost?”
At each go, I started strong. I slipped easily into advocacy mode: the scale of U.S. investment, the importance of global HIV programs, the numbers that prove impact. But every time I reached the moment where I needed to bring it home — why should Americans really care — my voice faltered. I went quiet. It felt like my words were being eroded as I spoke them, dissolving against a backdrop of growing populism, isolationism, and noise.
Two Paths Crossing
On the other side of the screen was Leah Petit — someone whose career in public health and time with USAID gave her a front-row seat to both the promise and fragility of global development. When she saw programs dismantled and colleagues’ work questioned, she didn’t look away. She created Global Development Interrupted — a podcast and Substack to document what happens when aid disappears, and whose lives absorb the shock.
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