By Chris Currie
Texas Metro News
https://texasmetronews.com
Texas is at a crossroads. As a former employee of the Texas Department of State Health Services (DSHS), I’ve seen firsthand how fragile our public health infrastructure has become—and how those weaknesses fall hardest on African American communities.
We already face disproportionate rates of chronic disease, lower insurance coverage, and higher barriers to care. When public health systems falter, we are the first to feel it and the last to recover.
Right now, DSHS is undergoing a sunset review, the once‑every‑12‑years audit that determines whether a state agency should continue to exist. In theory, it’s a tool for accountability.
In practice, the current review arrived at the worst possible moment—September 2025, months after Donald Trump began his second term in office and authorized Elon Musk and ‘DOGE’ to run roughshod over various federal agencies for several months.
Cuts, resignations, and reorganizations have hollowed out the very institutions meant to protect us.
The consequences are already visible. Deep in South Texas, Governor Abbott recently issued a statewide disaster declaration after the confirmation of New World screwworm in a calf in Zavala County.
The flesh‑eating parasite has threatened local livestock and the state has resorted to sterile fly drops, quarantines, and emergency surveillance to contain it.
This outbreak didn’t come out of nowhere. It arrived after years of federal retrenchment. The Trump administration ended over 100 U.S.-funded projects under the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization. Quite a bit of this involved programs that monitored and contained New World screwworm in Central America.
These cuts were part of a $382 million reduction in international disease‑prevention funding. At the same time, USDA staffing fell sharply—Texas alone shed about 21% of staff who worked for the USDA.
When early‑warning systems are dismantled, threats don’t stay abroad. They land on our doorstep.
While screwworm primarily affects livestock, the pattern is what matters: weakened surveillance, fewer experts, slower response times, and a political climate that treats public health as expendable.
For African American Texans—who already face higher rates of diabetes, hypertension, maternal mortality, and limited access to rural and urban care alike—this erosion is dangerous.
The leadership vacuum is equally troubling. President Trump recently appointed Dr. Jennifer Shuford, formerly the DSHS commissioner, as deputy director and chief medical officer of the CDC.
Whether she can push back on the spurious opinions and directives of Health & Human Services Secretary Robert Kennedy Jr. is an open question.
The Trump administration’s track record—from COVID‑19 to the present—does not inspire confidence.
Public health only works when it is stable, well‑funded, and insulated from political whims. Instead, we are watching federal and state agencies shed minority health staff, lose institutional knowledge, and shrink programs that once served vulnerable communities.
Cuts to public health infrastructure don’t fall evenly; they fall along the same racial lines that already define health disparities.African‑American Texans cannot afford a system that buckles under pressure. We need agencies that are empowered—not undermined—to track emerging threats, communicate clearly, and protect every community with equal urgency.
The screwworm outbreak is a warning. If we ignore it, the next crisis may not be limited to cattle.
