Amid DOGE cuts, families struggle with bills, consider leaving D.C.

Washington Post

09-05-2025

There's the fired federal contractor scrambling for a new job in his 60s and the meteorologist tightening his budget by eating more rice and beans. The nonprofit administrator who lies awake at night worried she'll lose her grant funding and the masters student wondering what job prospects, if any, will exist upon graduation.
As the Trump administration and the U.S. DOGE Service, which stands for the Department of Government Efficiency, wield a chain saw to the federal government, they've also yanked away the tablecloth upon which many in the D.C. region laid their lives.
More than 4 in 10 D.C. area residents who live in households that experienced a federal worker or contractor layoff, firing or being put on leave say they could not pay all their bills on time as a result, according to a poll conducted by The Washington Post and George Mason University's Schar School of Policy and Government over the past two weeks.
More than 1 in 5 D.C.-area residents overall say they are seriously considering moving away in the next 12 months, according to the poll. That rises to 45 percent among those who say a household member has been laid off from the federal government or a federal contractor. The poll was conducted among 1,667 D.C.-area residents from April 22 through May 4; the margin of sampling error is plus or minus 3.1 percentage points.
Accompanying DOGE-induced anxiety is a faltering national economy as tariff-related uncertainty upended spending patterns, and a local economy already struggling to recover from the effects of the pandemic.
More than 17 percent of the D.C. region's employed residents work for the federal government, according to the Metropolitan Washington Council of Governments. Many more work for companies and nonprofits dependent on federal spending. The District's chief financial officer has warned that the city could lose as many as 40,000 jobs over the next few years, which he estimates would cost the city more than $1 billion in revenue.
For some, the job instability and economic headwinds have prompted tweaks like pausing date night and canceling gym memberships. For others, the changes have been more sweeping: waving goodbye to their career paths and weighing a departure from the region altogether.
Intimidated by the prospect of online attacks, concerned about harm to their employers and frightened for their own job security, more than a dozen residents interviewed for this story requested their names be withheld. Others, however, agreed to share their experiences.
A week after Julia Tanton gave birth, she received the letter informing her that her position at the U.S. Agency for International Development was ending. She had worked with the federal government for more than a decade, spending the past six years at USAID.
She gave herself another week with her newborn. Then she began applying for jobs.
'It wasn't really how I envisioned spending that time, but there wasn't much of a choice,' said Tanton, 36. 'We have bills to pay.'
A month later, her husband lost his job at the U.S. Institute of Peace — effective immediately. Now they're both job hunting, worried about what lies beyond July 1 when her USAID paychecks end.
She estimates about half of their social circle are federal or federal-adjacent workers — all now trying to stay afloat as DOGE casts them adrift.
About 8 in 10 D.C. area residents who live in households that experienced a federal worker or contractor layoff have changed what groceries they buy to stay under budget and have reduced spending on entertainment or eating out, according to the Post-Schar poll.
Tanton and her husband let their house cleaner go and have delayed fixing their roof. They've pulled one son out of summer camp and swimming lessons. They're deciding whether to pull the other out of day care.
'We're trying to triage,' she said.
They just celebrated a year in their Northwest Washington home, a semidetached house in which they envision raising their children. Now, they might have to sell.
Mark Filipe was never in the military, but working with and for veterans mattered to him.
He took to heart President Abraham Lincoln's charge to Americans, affixed to the front of the Department of Veterans Affairs' D.C. headquarters: 'To care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow, and his orphan.'
Then the department ended its contract with his employer, a company that works to streamline and improve veterans' access to health care and benefits. His 13-person team lost their jobs.
'All I got was the paid time off that I'd accrued,' he said. 'That was it.'
Now, he's job-hunting in his 60s, submitting an estimated 100 applications in the past month. In the meantime, his family has stopped going out for dinners. They've cut back on charitable giving. Their savings are shrinking.
Nine in 10 residents who live in households that experienced a federal worker or contractor layoff say they feel more stress, according to the Post-Schar School poll.
Filipe is searching for freelance copywriting and other opportunities in the gig economy. He thought about delivering groceries, but his wife, a teacher, needs the car during the day. He volunteers at his church's food pantry.
'To give me something useful to do,' he said. 'I want to stay busy.'
He added: 'If I get back to work soon — please Lord, soon — I'll probably work until lunchtime on the day of my funeral.'
Emily Rindone, 43, was on the cusp of celebrating 13 years at Save the Children when the Trump administration slashed U.S. foreign assistance. She lost her job in February.
Now, she cobbles together shifts at a local diner and a garden shop in Alexandria. Between waiting tables for the breakfast crowd and helping people buy plants, she submits job applications whenever she can.
'But the job market is overwhelmed with people like me,' she said.
Sixty-one percent of area residents say the administration's cuts to federal jobs and programs would hurt them and their families, according to the Post-Schar School poll.
'Mostly what I hear from people is grief,' she said. 'It is hard to process that the work we've done for so long has disappeared.'
Her husband is a Capitol Police officer, due to retire this summer after 25 years of service.
With so much in flux, she said, one thing feels certain: They'll move out of the region by the end of the year.