Embedded Files
Farewell, DC, Goodbye to the Best Office in the State Department
On Substack
I recorded most of this while walking around Arlington in the early morning, just a few days before leaving the DMV. My family is still asleep. We're preparing for our move to Saudi Arabia. The quiet streets stretch ahead of me, while a few joggers pass by, nodding in that early-morning connection of those who thrive in these early hours.
For the past three and a half years, I've had my dream job as a Regional English Language Officer (RELO) with the U.S. Department of State. Not everyone gets their dream job. One they've pursued for years, envisioned as central to their life. But I'm grateful to say I did.
I didn't get to serve abroad in my short career as a RELO. My first tour was in Washington, DC, just across the river from where I'm walking. Rather than beginning with the "foreign" part of the Foreign Service, I started with the "service" part. I didn't get to live overseas with State, but I did get to serve and see how exchanges I had previously been a part of were run from the inside.
In the TESOL community, everyone knows who the RELOs are. They're the ones who build programs, offer professional development opportunities, and bring people together. American teachers go abroad. Teachers around the world gain access to training and networks. And all of this happens with the core belief that mutual understanding—between "us" and "them," whoever those pronouns represent—is good for everyone.
For the past 20 years, I've been an English teacher, moving between the U.S. and international posts. In some ways, I had already lived a Foreign Service lifestyle long before officially joining. Teaching English allowed me to travel, meet people, and learn languages. That's what initially drew me to the idea of becoming a RELO—not to be a diplomat, but to support English language teachers and learners around the world.
During my short time with State, I was fortunate to have dozens of public engagements, one international trip, and the incredible opportunity to study Arabic at the Foreign Service Institute (FSI). Language was always at the center of everything I did.
Working across the street from the Harry S. Truman Building, I saw how much thought, labor, and coordination go into diplomacy. It's more than policies and statements; countless people work behind the scenes, day in and day out.
What struck me most during my time as a diplomat was the depth of knowledge and professionalism among my colleagues. The people at the State Department (particularly in the Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs (ECA), where RELOs work) aren't just experts; they're bridge-builders and educators.
I was constantly amazed by my colleagues. The directors in our office could pivot between regions and programs with such fluency—handling Africa one moment, Central Asia the next, then diving into public diplomacy strategies for Latin America. They spoke with background knowledge and clarity, not overwhelmed by the complexity. The RELOs in the field managed entire portfolios, balancing the needs of Washington, the realities of their host countries, and the regional dynamics that shaped them both.
While I never got to serve a tour overseas, I was placed in Washington to support our RELOs in the field. I worked as a desk officer, managing communications, reviewing reports and proposals, and understanding how programs functioned across two dozen countries. It gave me a broader perspective, which I'll carry as I return to the classroom.
RELOs are part of ECA, the same bureau that runs the Fulbright Program and other cultural and educational exchanges. There are only 26 RELO posts worldwide, each covering large geographic regions. Despite the small size of the office, its impact is extraordinary. Being a part of it was humbling. I often felt like I didn't measure up. I have degrees and papers that say I know things, but the imposter syndrome never fully left me.
From the outside, the State Department can seem like a faceless bureaucracy. I used to imagine paper-pushers shuffling memos and budget justifications. But from the inside, I met real people—smart, dedicated, polyglots who have spent careers learning how the world works and how to improve it. It's not just ambassadors or high-level officials; the teams behind the scenes carry so much weight.
My experience with State taught me how much more goes into this work than most people realize. Over time, I found my footing. I learned how to navigate the systems, be useful, and contribute meaningfully to the mission.
In a city like DC, that level of internationalism and linguistic diversity is everywhere. I wasn't the odd one for having lived in unusual places or speaking other languages. In fact, I felt at home. I met people who had studied four or five languages over their careers, who moved seamlessly between foreign policy crises and regional education initiatives. Their curiosity was contagious.
I fell in love with DC—and with Arlington. It's a quiet, walkable community, yet just across the river is one of the most powerful capitals in the world. Living in DC helped me fall in love with America again. I am in love not with the abstract idea but with the textured, real version. The version where we are messy and diverse and beautifully complicated. There isn't just one America. There are many. And working here made me more conscious of that than ever before.
Walking the streets, I saw school groups across the U.S., foreign tourists, and residents from dozens of diasporic communities. I didn't need to go abroad to experience global diversity; it was already here.
From the outside, the government can look faceless. But once inside, you see the faces, hear the voices, and understand the human labor behind it. Bureaucracy has a deeply human side—and it's often filled with people trying to do genuine good in the world.
Now I'm transitioning out. I've taken the Deferred Resignation Program and am on administrative leave as I return to the classroom. I'll be going back to what I did before: teaching English. But I'm bringing with me everything I learned—about diplomacy, public service, and how education can be a tool for connection.
It feels right. I'm returning to a region I love, a country where my wife and I once lived, and where our son was born. I'll be in a new city, but it already feels familiar. There's something beautiful about returning—not to repeat the past, but to continue building on it.
I'm leaving the Foreign Service, not out of disillusionment but because this chapter is ending naturally. It's time to return to the classroom, to the direct work with students and teachers that first gave me purpose.
As I walk these quiet streets one last time, I feel grateful. Grateful for the work, for the people, for the city, and for the lessons.
Working as a RELO, especially in DC, was a dream. Not financially—DC is expensive, especially with a family—but professionally, intellectually, and emotionally, it was deeply fulfilling.
This job allowed me to serve—to be part of something larger than myself. And that's a gift I'll carry forward.
The sun is higher now, and I can hear the city beginning to wake up. It's time to head home to my family and finish preparations for our next chapter. But I'll remember my morning runs, this place, and the privilege of serving here.
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