Ronald Reagan Building, Washington, DC
ADMINISTRATOR POWER: Thank you, Paloma, and good morning everyone.
This is such a special day—the swearing in of USAID’s new Chief of Staff, Dennis Vega.
Before we begin, let me also thank Nikole Burroughs for doing what she has done again and again at this Agency and in her life, which is answering the call to serve, this time as Deputy Chief of Staff for Management, filling Dennis’ very large shoes.
As Paloma mentioned, if you’ve spoken to Dennis lately, you would have heard him say that this event is “his worst nightmare.” Never one to crave the spotlight, Dennis is always thinking of others, so the thought of a gathering designed to celebrate him naturally makes him deeply uncomfortable.
Well, Dennis, buckle up. You’re about to experience some serious discomfort.
Luckily, you’re surrounded by loved ones. Your adorable sons, Diego, who just turned seven last week, and noted Hello Kitty fan, Mateo, whose fifth birthday is today! Happy birthday! And today you both get to miss school, probably the best gift of all!
Dennis’ wife Kim, who herself is a USAID alum—we’ll get to that in a minute—is also here, as is her mom Cindy, and Dennis and Kim’s friends Tracy and John. And finally, beaming in remotely are Dennis’ family, Dennis Vega the elder, his mom Lilian, and his sister Cynthia.
Dennis and his sister, like so many members of USAID’s leadership, myself included, are children of immigrants. Dennis the elder left Cuba for the United States with little more than the clothes on his back. Lilian left El Salvador, arriving in the United States unable to speak English. She spent six hours each night translating her homework into Spanish so she could understand and complete it, then translating it back into English so she could submit it.
Dennis’ parents met each other as teenagers in San Francisco, fell in love, and together they pursued the American dream. His father became an agricultural pilot—a crop duster—and that work eventually took the family to rural Louisiana, where Dennis grew up. According to his sister Cynthia, he was one of the brightest kids in the school, but like so many gifted kids who aren’t challenged or excited by what they’re being taught, he struggled.
While his homework didn’t engage him, Dennis came alive negotiating, debating, and devoting himself to causes he believed in. When his Catholic school sought to expel a girl who had become pregnant, Dennis led a protest to prevent it. When a classmate came down with Leukemia, Dennis organized a group of friends to shave their heads in solidarity. His mom could see the leader and diplomat in Dennis, even at an early age, so she encouraged him to join the foreign service. But of course, he didn’t take his mom’s advice. After taking up music in college, working in recording studios and restaurants in Austin, he eventually went to law school instead.
After a brief stint as a public defender in St. Louis and time with the Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund, Dennis then earned a Presidential Management Fellowship, and soon came to USAID for the very first time for an interview.
It was during that interview that Dennis—recent law school grad, public defender, Presidential Management Fellow, child of immigrants, and frequent traveler to El Salvador where he spent summers witnessing life up close in a country receiving foreign assistance—was told that he wasn’t qualified to work in development. It wasn’t the first time Dennis was underestimated—and it wasn’t the first time he was undeterred.
Instead, he interviewed for another role at USAID in the Office of the Chief Operating Officer, a job he earned, and one that would change the rest of his life. I don’t mean the rest of his career, I mean the rest of his life. Because not only did he interview for that role, so too did a young woman named Kimberly Cernak. It turns out that they had both applied for the same Fellowship role, and were both so impressive, they were both hired.
So Dennis met Kim in the lobby of the Ronald Reagan Building on their first day. They had desks next to each other, they got lunch together, and several months later, they made, in Kim’s words, “the reckless decision to start dating.”
Of course their courtship started with Dennis’ trademark empathy. Kim was having a rough day at work so he, ever the caring soul, offered to take her out for a drink. How kind of you, Dennis.
Eventually Dennis and Kim would go on to buy a home, get married, and start their family, but their relationship was built upon those early formative days drinking coffee in the food court (now really, who doesn’t think about romance when in the Ronald Reagan Building food court?), discussing the challenges within international development, and dreaming of ways to change the field for the better.
But Dennis is not just a dreamer, he’s a doer. As Kim said, “When others lean out, he leans in.” During his last tour through USAID he played a critical role supporting our then newly-formed budget bureau in securing a degree of financial autonomy and flexibility for the first time in years. While later serving at the State Department, he made it his mission to open up the black box of foreign aid and corralled a massive interagency effort to coordinate, collect, and code our nation’s foreign assistance data—across 22 different government bureaucracies—and put it all online.
As CEO of America’s Promise Alliance, an organization devoted to giving every young person in the country the chance to realize the American dream, Dennis actually brought young people into the room and sat them at the table, giving them a leadership role within the organization. While there, even in the face of hesitation from his board, he also started an anti-racist alliance of 450 partners to take steps toward racial equity.
No matter where he’s worked, Dennis has always sought to do as much good for people as he can. He is, in the words of a former colleague: “someone who is dedicated to our common humanity.”
When I was first building my team at USAID, it was clear that Dennis would be an indispensable acquisition. Not just for his experience or his intelligence, but for his kindness, his care, and that human touch he brings to his leadership. One colleague said of Dennis “He has the smarts to solve almost any complex problem, but he also has the thoughtfulness to bring others in and support them in making their own contributions.”
And another said, “Dennis doesn’t see the colleague; he sees the person. He’s the one who wants to know about your day, tells you to take a break so you don’t burn yourself out, asks about your parents or your kids, and always employs humor and grace rather than tension or ego. He doesn’t tell you to work hard; he inspires you to work hard.”
And, lest you think he’s a big softy, let me assure you—he will relentlessly pursue what he knows to be right. A colleague from State said, “As one of very few underrepresented minorities in the foreign aid community, he has embodied what it means to own one's seat at the table, stand in your truth, and to speak truth to power.”
So, when our current Chief of Staff, Gideon Maltz, decided to head back to his old job, there really could only be one person to step into the role. Especially since Gideon kept insisting that it was only Dennis’ leadership that allowed him to get anything done.
And what a time to assume this role—a war in Ukraine, a lingering global pandemic, the existential threat of climate change bearing down on us…
But thanks to much of the work Dennis has already spearheaded, we have embarked on several reforms that will help unleash and empower this Agency to be the best version of itself in order to tackle those challenges. We are building a culture of excellence and inclusion at USAID, and intentionally working to recruit and retain an Agency that looks like America—a cause I know Dennis deeply believes in and has sought to make real.
We are working to bridge the inequities within our own workforce, with a special focus on empowering and supporting our Foreign Service Nationals—again, a passion of Dennis’ since his first stint at the Agency.
And we’re working to fundamentally reorient the power structure of foreign assistance so that the communities we serve aren’t just recipients of foreign aid but true partners in the design, implementation, and evaluation of our programs—once again, a Dennis priority. I’m starting to notice a pattern! Wow, maybe Gideon was right.
Weaved throughout all these initiatives is Dennis’ dedication to treating everyone with dignity, giving everyone a voice, and respecting people’s lived experience, not just their titles and qualifications. After all, that is how we discover some of our most impressive and impactful leaders.
You know, when Kim and Dennis got those early coffees in the food court, they didn’t just talk about what problems they wanted to solve at USAID. They also spoke about what roles they hoped they might one day have.
For Dennis, there was no question about the job he wanted, even if he thought it would never happen: Chief of Staff.
Dennis, you have invested so much into making people understand that they belong here at USAID; I want you to know how clear it is to all of us that you belong in this role. You are the leader that I need, that this Agency needs, that this Administration needs, that the people out there in the world need, to help meet this moment, and we are so lucky to have you. And, even though today is your biggest nightmare, I am so happy to know, it’s also a dream come true.
Congratulations, Dennis; I feel so, so privileged to have you by my side in this role.