Half a lifetime ago, I was an AmeriCorps member in San Diego. I fell into it. I didn’t know what AmeriCorps was, but I was young, idealistic and eager to the Peace Corps upon graduating from UCSD. I told the Peace Corps recruiter that I wanted to return to Africa, building on a formative study-abroad experience in Ghana, where I worked in a refugee camp.
The recruiter said I needed some teaching experience.
So I started volunteering at the International Rescue Committee, a global humanitarian organization that helps people whose lives are affected by conflict and disaster. To keep students engaged while school was out, International Rescue Committee hosted a summer program in City Heights for students — recently arrived refugees who were not just learning a new language, but were learning a new city, a new country, a new way of life. As part of a cadre of volunteers, I tutored English and algebra, and ushered students on field trips around the city.
After a summer of volunteering, International Rescue Committee asked me to stay for the next school year as an AmeriCorps member to teach an after-school English class — my first job. A perfect opportunity at the perfect time, AmeriCorps gave me the teaching experience I needed to the Peace Corps. For a year, I welcomed students from Burma, Afghanistan, Cambodia, Somalia and Darfur into my classroom, building basic vocabulary and fostering a sense of home.
The $900 monthly stipend couldn’t cover the rent. It didn’t matter. I felt good about the work, giving back to my community, helping to build the futures of newly arrived immigrants. Now, the so-called Department of Government Efficiency is coming after AmeriCorps. DOGE put the entirety of AmeriCorps leadership on leave, threatening the existence of an organization that costs $1.3 billion per year. I know — a billion dollars sounds like a lot. But here’s what we get for that money: a year’s worth of stipends for for 2,000 , 600 staff and a positive return on taxpayer investment.
That $1.3 billion is 0.02% of the federal budget. Not 2%. Zero point zero two percent — a rounding error in our spending.
As an investment, it’s hard to find government spending that’s more effective and efficient than AmeriCorps. Peace Corps gives AmeriCorps a run for its money.
For two years, I served in a village in Mozambique, teaching high school English. Outside of the classroom, I worked with an American nonprofit that refurbished laptops and sent them to teachers at the school where I worked. Teachers charged their laptops during the three-hour window when we had electricity and I’d teach computer classes under the shade of trees.
I also organized a group of students to participate in Peace Corps Mozambique’s English Theatre program, which gave students a chance to practice English, but with a focus on messaging around HIV/AIDS. Lessons on prevention, treatment, and stigma were vital in a country where 1 in 9 adults live with HIV.
As with my AmeriCorps experience, I got more out of the Peace Corps than I put into it. I learned a new language — something I struggled with in school, and a skill that would prove vital in my career as a USAID program manager and implementer.
And like AmeriCorps, DOGE is threatening to put an end to the Peace Corps, an agency that operates on less than $500 million annually. $1.26 per American per year — couch cushion money — s 8,000 Peace Corps volunteers globally, folks who bring the best of America to developing nations.
Elon Musk and President Trump will tout the “savings” from cutting these programs, just as they did when they eliminated USAID. But they won’t tell what we lose by eliminating these programs: an entry to employment for thousands of Americans, an investment in our citizens, and a commitment to our communities and country.
Vice President JD Vance has said national service is “the best idea in America that never happens.” National service puts America first. Rather than eliminating these programs, we should be doubling down on them. If my experience is any indicator, we as a nation will get far more out of it than we put into it.
Gerston used to manage USAID-funded programs, but recently lost his job. He lives in La Jolla.
