Listener Reviews

When I was listening to this episode, I had no idea that Sahra Noon's younger sister was Ilhan Omar, Congresswoman from Minnesota and one of the targets of garbage-talk from You Can Guess Who(m) and an federal investigation . Sahra Noor's story of having to leave their tight-knit community in Somalia is both touching and impressive: People within her family took care of each other, as did their whole community. She and host Chris Wurst discuss how the people in Minnesota also take care of one another and how that community stood up to the attack upon its minority community. Sahra Noor speaks with warmth and strength as she describes her life and work.

I've kept my 2001 CARE calendar for a quarter of a century because its September featured Afghanistan, pleading for economic help during its drought, and then it got cluster bombs instead! I am fascinated by this account given by Robert Gerber, an economic officer, who wound up on a snowy mountain top after a tragic plane crash in Afghanistan --not the image I had of Afghanistan but the kind of diplomacy I had in mind. I'm impressed by his work with Afghans and people from other countries--relationships he established before this tragic crash.

Grateful that I was able to complete my Peace Corps service back in 1972, I listened with rapt attention to Carol Spahn's story relating how she helped PCVs evacuate at the time of the pandemic and then took on the responsibility of getting PCVs back in host countries two years later.

After listening to journalist John Donnelly describe the work of PEPFAR, President's Emergency Plan For AIDS Relief, I’m particularly struck by the contrast between PEPFAR’s extraordinary accomplishments and the threats to its continued success. It's a story of American foreign assistance that deserves much more attention.

Journalist John Donnelly,'s reporting on HIV/aids has shaped how the world understands global health and development. He traces the origins of PEPFAR—launched in 2003 as the largest commitment any nation has ever made to fight a single disease—and reminds us how many hundreds of millions of lives it has saved across Africa and beyond. Now, as PEPFAR is being dismantled,, Donnelly's perspective underscores what's at stake when a signature U.S. development program is allowed to die.

I enjoyed hearing about Wesley Warshawer's experiences in Korea and India, but I also appreciated his effort to listen to people in places where the voting shows a very different perspective from his. While lamenting the choices voters make in the places he's gone to, I agree with him that demonizing people whose views differ from ours is not a wise or kind practice.

Wesley Warshawer’s podcast was a twist on a familiar theme: he spoke about the United States rather than some more exotic foreign location. He made many thoughtful points, but I want to focus on a memory his story stirred in me. I once was tasked with designing a major USAID scholarship program that would bring 10,000 Central Americans to the United States for academic training. In the 1980s, the Kissinger Commission had recommended such an initiative as a way to counter the growing socialist and communist movements in Central America. One hoped that studying in the United States would naturally foster a deeper understanding of the US—and, in turn, win hearts and minds. As part of my research, I traveled through Central America and met with students who had studied in the United States on government scholarships, most at the master’s or doctoral level. They spoke warmly of the academic opportunities they had received. Yet when I asked about any disappointments, many offered the same response: their impressions of American family life had been disillusioning. Follow-up questions revealed why. Many had never stayed with an American family or experienced everyday life in an American community. Their studies and life on campus had been their main focus. Their strong impressions of American family life came through Ozzie and Harriet, The Life of Riley, I Love Lucy, comic strips, and other popular portrayals of American life. Their picture of family life had been shaped through the prism of Hollywood and popular entertainment rather than actual experience. That realization led me to add an “Experience America” component to the scholarship program—not briefings or seminars, but genuine encounters: homestays, visits with families at Thanksgiving or Christmas, attendance at local festivals, parades, and athletic events, etc. The goal was to offer experiences deep and ordinary enough to create impressions beyond the polished world of Hollywood sitcoms. Westley captures this truth beautifully: our understanding of a place is often assembled from what we have heard, watched, and imagined. But his road trip revealed something much deeper and more compelling—the reality beneath the familiar stories. Despite our differences, Americans share far more than divides us. The country is not coming apart at every seam; it is held together, often quietly, by a common humanity and shared values. Thank you, Westley, for illuminating that important truth!

Besides being intrigued by what Hannah Peterson has taken on as a community builder, I am now interested in the play she wrote and cast with those who came out of the wood chipper!

Hannah, I simply love your insight that, beneath the beautiful tapestry of our differences, we are all fundamentally alike. When we begin with diversity, our distinctions can seem to divide us; but when we begin with our shared humanity, those same distinctions become the luminous details that enrich our collective story. Our differences do not separate us from one another—they add color, texture, and wonder to the vast home we share as one human family. Thank you, Hannah, for expressing this profound truth and, even more beautifully, for embodying it through your poignant stories of lived experience. You have a rare gift for meeting people where they are, listening for the humanity beneath their circumstances, and finding connection across every boundary. Through your play and the many activities it has inspired, you are gathering those individual moments into something larger: a shared space where our stories can meet, illuminate one another, and remind us that our differences are not barriers, but invitations to see the world—and one another—with greater depth, respect, and wonder!

The power of storytelling is stitched into every minute of this wonderful podcast! Chapeau!

This podcast of Derek Lowstuter, caught my attention since my initial site in the Peace Corps was also at 10,000 feet in Guatemala. I was also impressed that Derek graduated from Colorado State University’s Special Forestry Services program tied to the Peace Corps. His path of service was shaped as much by failure as success. Derek talks candidly about the lessons learned from setbacks in the field—how they sharpened his judgment, deepened his resilience, and ultimately guided the stories in his book Fiddler on the Road. His journey reminds us that the most meaningful growth comes from the failures we’re willing to learn from.

I appreciate Derek Lowstuter’s use of the term “Majority World country” in describing Ethiopia because those of us in the United States, who consume a disproportionate share of the world’s resources, need the reminder that we are the minority. His story also illustrates what can be gained when we let people help us. It’s been said that if we want to make a friend, we should let that person help us! He and his wife also show how patronizing a seller can increase that seller’s appeal to other buyers, as was the case with the trans woman they bought eggs from. His insights reverse the usual relationship of power: Majority World reverses our notion of who's central and who's peripheral; accepting help reverses the Peace Corps Volunteer-as-helper relationship; and buying eggs from the trans woman turns an act of patronizing in the commercial sense into an act of affirmation. Of course, he also illustrates the qualities of an effective Peace Corps Volunteer.

I wish I knew about This podcast earlier. Prefer the stories about State and peace corps workers.

Jason Carter's commitment to strategic partnerships goes back to when I first met him — he was an intern at the Carter Center, and I was with MAP International. We were part of a Guinea Worm eradication initiative, and even then Jason understood something essential: lasting change comes from organizations joining forces, not working alone. His story also carries a special Peace Corps thread. His grandmother, Lillian Carter, served as one of the oldest RPCVs in Africa, reminding us how service can shape a family's legacy across generations.

I enjoyed hearing things from the perspective of Jason Carter, son of President Jimmy Carter and grandson of Lillian Gordy Carter, who served in the Peace Corps--footsteps that Jason Carter followed but at a younger age. I was particularly comforted by hearing Jason Carter say that he thinks USAID will be rebuilt in spite of the forces that dismantled it.

Jennifer Erie's story is a powerful journey through identity, service, and impact. Drawing on her Haitian cultural roots, She speaks candidly about the challenges of navigating identity while serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in South Africa. She later worked with USAID’s PEPFAR program, contributing to the remarkable progress in reducing AIDS across Africa. The interview also includes her thoughtful response to “Dubious Aunt Deb,” in which she explains how a relatively small investment in overseas development positively impacts the US economy and enhances goodwill abroad.

I loved listening to this podcast. Paul's experience with village-level projects in Thailand ignited a spark he did not let die. Much later, he returned to let the spark start a wildfire that has benefited many. Congratulations! As a 40 year USAID field officer, I especially appreciate Paul's view that government foreign aid programs spend too much on overhead. But he quickly realized that, to support projects, you need to support the people who bring the ideas, train, build, oversee, and evaluate to ensure success. He solved that by creating two funds--one to directly fund projects, the other to support the process. Foreign aid does the same. Operational funds cover overhead, while project funds support the projects. Can the balance be distorted? Yes. Can foreign aid programs force projects not of a village's or community's choosing? Yes. That is why USAID field officers were such an important part of U.S. foreign aid. Those field officers, often recrited from Peace Corps volunteers, helped assure the right balance between project activities and the training and oversight needed. Congratulations to Paul for highlighting the importance of the "overhead" that necessarily accompanies foreign aid projects. Can foreign aid projects be successful without the USAID field presence? Of course, but the field presence is what assures quality, balance, and real success. Finally, can groups lie Paul's replace USAID as a deliverer of American assistance? Of course, but the problem is one of scale and span of control. Hopefully, a new U.S. foreign aid program is being formulated that builds on USAID's rich development experience over many years, on its successes, and its failures as well, and that groups like Paul's, IVS, Peace Corps, and so many other private, religious, and other nongovernmental group's experience and history will be a part of the rebirth in what I call USAID 2.0.

I have known Paul Strsburg since college, but was unaware of the details and the reach of his extraordinary life and accomplishments. the gentle wisdom of the program was deerply moving to me--full of wisdom, modesty, and profound observations. Thank you for producing this most worthwhile episode.

A fellow RPCV from Arizona, Paul Strasburg, personifies Mother Teresa’s reminder that “I alone cannot change the world. But I can cast a stone across the waters and create many ripples.” Long before joining the Peace Corps, he gained a global lens through an AFS exchange in Germany—an experience that shaped his lifelong commitment to cross‑cultural understanding. After his service, Paul helped form a group dedicated not only to supporting overseas development but also to training aspiring U.S.-based philanthropists. His career is a testament to the impact one person’s ripples can have on a global level.

I enjoyed listening to Paul Strasburg explain how he settled for Stanford because they had a student abroad program that could get him to Germany. Didn't he join the Peace Corps with the same goal in mind? Like many of us Peace Corps Volunteers, he learned that not getting what you ask for sometimes leads to something even more interesting, and his curiosity and open-spiritedness have led to the building of a school and many other accomplishments. Good to hear!

If USAID hadn't been abruptly and callously dismantled , I might be tempted to fill out an application form to work with Keisha Effiom, whose spunk and determination and KINDNESS show her good managerial skills. I enjoyed listening to her account of her realization that her roots were not in Spain but on the continent of Africa! Her book sounds like a good read.

Keisha Effiom's story was both inspiring and sobering. Her 18‑year journey with USAID’s PEPFAR program fighting HIV/AIDS in Africa shows how many roads can lead to a life of service overseas. But she also shares the heartbreak of USAID careers cut short without explanation. Her mother’s words ring true throughout: when people lose empathy, they become mean — and stop caring about others. A message worth hearing today.

I finally identify with Aunt Deb. Usually, when she appears on SoftPower/FulStories, she asks why we should get involved internationally. This time she first asks George Clooney how any man could be so gorgeous. I confess that I envy Matt Brown, the journalist and former Peace Corps Volunteer in Guinea who was assigned to accompany Clooney to the frontlines of the war in Sudan during the Obama administration. I envy his sitting by Clooney’s bedside when Clooney got sick during a malaria outbreak. I would have willingly taken on Matt Brown’s assignment itself—even after the United Nations felt compelled to withdraw the lodging, helicopter transportation, security, and other support it had planned to provide because the government in Khartoum opposed its involvement. I'm as impressed by Matt Brown as I am by George Clooney, whose celebrity gave him the ability to draw attention to a part of the world that most Americans seldom think about but which both men knew and cared about. As much as I envy Matt Brown's assignment, I could certainly understand his relief when the assignment was over and Clooney’s safety was no longer his responsibility. He compared it to being a daycare provider: you hold your breath while the children are your responsibility, and then the parents return and the responsibility is theirs again. Imagine being responsible for bringing George Clooney safely home from a war zone! This episode also reminds me of how much more I want to learn about Africa. I know considerably more about North Africa, but listening to Matt made me want to learn about Sudan, Guinea, and other countries farther south. I also learned more about human-rights organizations such as Enough and Not On Our Watch. At the time of Matt Brown and George Clooney’s trip, USAID was thriving and able to do important work in places like Sudan. Listening now, knowing how much of that capacity has since been dismantled, I hope we can persuade people like Aunt Deb to look beyond our country and even beyond George Clooney’s good looks!

Joe Lurie’s segment is a powerful reminder of why his voice matters so much in this moment of global strife, hatred, and fractured understanding. I’ve followed his work for years and reviewed his book Perceptions and Deceptions, which feels even more urgent today as conflicts deepen between countries, religions, and races. Drawing on his formative Peace Corps service in Kenya and his many years leading International House at Berkeley, Lurie shows—through story, scholarship, and lived experience—how culture shapes perception and how easily misunderstanding becomes danger. His core insight still resonates: “You don’t see the world around you from your own window.” In a time when empathy feels in short supply, Lurie offers a framework for seeing more clearly and listening more generously.