Edit: The title may be interpreted as disrespectful to non-Feds and allies …and this was NOT my intention. My intention is writing this was for an OTR driver/family member who genuinely asked what it felt like. Why was it different than years spent fighting overseas, in OEF/OIF, different than when I was private sector. I wrote it with a fantastical and hyperbolic theme because this is what it feels like.
Imagine you’ve spent 17 years as a truck driver for one of the most respected freight carriers in the country. You’ve worked your way up from grueling overnight hauls to earning a dedicated city-to-city bid, the kind of route only the most reliable drivers get. You’ve been awarded for safety, for efficiency, for going above and beyond. You know the roads like the back of your hand, and you take pride in keeping freight moving across America.
Then one day, everything changes. The company’s owner remarries, and his new wife, who has never even set foot inside a distribution center, let alone behind the wheel of a rig, starts making decisions. We will call her E. Lon Hubbard. E. Lon struts into the terminal like she owns the place, starts firing off emails about how the company is “bloated,” how too many drivers are “sitting around collecting paychecks,” and how trucking is “obsolete” now that automation is on the horizon. She doesn’t talk to drivers, she doesn’t ask what actually keeps freight moving …she just decides.
At first, it sounds ridiculous, like something that’ll blow over. But then the layoffs start. Drivers you’ve worked alongside for years, guys who trained you, guys you trained, start disappearing. No warning, no explanation. Just a call saying, “We’re making changes, we won’t be needing you anymore.”
Now, every morning when you clock in, you wonder if it’ll be your last. You only have 3 years until you reach your 20! The stress is unbearable. You used to sleep fine after a long haul, but now you stare at the ceiling, body exhausted but mind racing. What if I’m next? Your hands shake on the wheel, your thoughts wander at red lights. You’re making mistakes you never used to make. You just want to do your job, but your job is no longer safe.
Then she starts posting about you. Publicly.
On social media, she starts blasting truckers. “Do we really need this many drivers? All they do is block traffic and waste fuel. Lazy. Dead weight.” She says she wants to “streamline” this company, that “half of these guys could be cut and we wouldn’t even notice.”
And people eat it up. Millions of shares, hundreds of millions of likes. The public joins in.
Now, when you’re on the road, cars honk aggressively, flipping you off as they pass. You hear them yell: “Get off the road, trucker! You take up too much space with that stupid rig!” They don’t care that the goods they buy. Their groceries, their clothes, their medicine, only arrive because of you. You are now an inconvenience.
Even your safe spaces are gone. You pull into a terminal, somewhere that used to feel like home, and the atmosphere is tense. Guys whisper about who got cut that morning, who’s next. Everyone is watching their back.
At the truck stops—your refuge on long hauls—you’re met with stares instead of nods. Normal cars fill the pumps, their owners glaring at you, muttering about how truckers are ruining everything. “You should just quit,” one says, shoving past you at the checkout counter. “There’s too many of you anyway.”
You feel yourself shrinking. For almost two decades, you’ve done nothing but work hard. And now, somehow, you’ve become the enemy.
This is exactly what federal employees are living through. We are dedicated professionals, whether it’s securing the border, managing national parks, ensuring veterans get their healthcare, or protecting America’s infrastructure. But we are being dismantled from the inside by someone who doesn’t understand what we do and doesn’t care to learn.
We are watching our colleagues disappear. We are losing sleep from stress, wondering if today will be the day we’re locked out of our accounts and told we’re done. We are being humiliated in public, called lazy, useless, a drain on the system.
We are being pushed out, not because we failed, but because someone in power decided we were in the way.
