Tamira Moon: A Public Health Professional Learns What It's Like to Fall Through the Cracks

47-year-old Tamira Moon served as the director of health equity and diversity initiatives for the Association for State and Territorial Health Officials, an organization funded by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. On July 31, 2025, that work ended when, as she put it, “our entire team was reduced in workforce.” A single woman living in Atlanta, Georgia, she is now navigating a chronic illness without a job or coverage. “Unfortunately, I’m in the current situation: unemployed, uninsured, first time in life,” she said. “So, yeah, this is a new uncertain period for me.”

After the layoff, Tamira signed up for coverage through Georgia Access, the state’s health insurance marketplace. At first, her premium was $573 a month. When 2026 began, it rose to more than $900. “I could not afford that with, you know, not having a job,” she said. She had expected help would be available. “I thought I would be able to get Medicaid, Medicare, anything,” she said, “but because I got a tax refund of 7000 dollars, that disqualified me.”

Tamira lives with mixed connective tissue disease, an autoimmune condition she describes as being “in the family of lupus,” and remains under the ongoing care of a rheumatologist. She was first diagnosed with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis at 14. The connective tissue disease diagnosis came in 2000, while she was doing an internship on Capitol Hill and fell ill. She is also under the care of a cardiologist. She began noticing high blood pressure after receiving the COVID-19 vaccine and believes there is a connection, despite maintaining a healthy diet and exercise routine. “I’m not an anti-vaxxer,” she said, “but for me, unfortunately, that was my experience.”

Because of her chronic condition, Tamira chose the highest tier plan Georgia Access offered, then had to cross-reference her physicians and medications against the plan’s network. “It was very challenging, even with the agent trying to maneuver that,” she said. The agent eventually found a plan that would cover her doctors and treatments, but Tamira said doing it alone would have been overwhelming. “If I didn’t have that agent to navigate me, it’s a lot,” she said. “And I’m a public health professional. That’s why this is so crazy for me.”

Her pharmacy and her doctor have helped her hold on so far. CVS has reduced the price on some of her medications, so she hasn’t had to change any of them. When she knew her coverage was ending, she reached out to her physician directly through the online patient portal: “I need you to call me,” she wrote, and he did. “I’ve always been a compliant patient and I’m big on patient doctor relationships,” she said. Her prescriptions currently have renewals available. “I can last this year,” she said. But preventative care has stalled — she hasn’t had a mammogram or a dental cleaning since losing coverage.

Even while she had the highest-tier plan available through Georgia Access, Tamira experienced out-of-pocket costs that made some services difficult to afford. “Even though I had the highest top tier insurance, I couldn’t afford to get any x-rays,” she said. Her experience highlighted the significant differences she encountered after transitioning from employer-sponsored insurance to purchasing coverage through the individual marketplace. “I was just shocked,” she said.

For Tamira, the experience underscored a broader concern: losing a job can also mean losing access to affordable health coverage and facing difficult decisions about health care at an already uncertain time.

The loss of coverage has reshaped daily life in smaller ways too. Tamira describes herself as “a very outgoing person who loves to travel,” and travel has been put on hold. She has also had to stop donating to her churches in both Georgia and her hometown of Lorain, Ohio. “I haven’t been able to tithe for my church… I don’t feel happy about that at all.” Still, she has kept up with her core bills. “Thank God I live below my means, because I haven’t missed a mortgage. I haven’t missed any bills,” she said. “But again, I can’t go into 2027 like this.”

She worries about what happens if she is still uninsured after this year. She knows resources like the Center for Black Women’s Wellness offer a fallback, but she is hoping not to need them. “Right now, I’m just, you know, going day by day, honestly,” she said.

Tamira has channeled the experience into advocacy. She co-chairs the health and wellness committee for the Atlanta Black Chambers, where she helped launch an initiative called “Are You OK?” for people affected by layoffs and lost contracts tied to cuts in diversity, equity and inclusion programs. “You got to figure it out together,” she said.

Having spent her career on the other side of these conversations, being on the receiving end has been disorienting. Tamira’s own nonprofit receives funding through Georgia Access to help raise awareness of the program — the same marketplace coverage she now says she cannot afford for herself. “I’m that same population that I serve as a public health professional,” she said. “I’ve fallen into being on the other side.” She has worked since age 14, by her own choice, and does not see health care as optional. “It’s not a privilege,” she said. “Everyone should have access to equitable health care.” She also connects the stakes to how people vote. “When you vote, you better know what you vote for, because it impacts your daily lifestyle,” she said. “Put a face to that condition, put a face to Medicare, to Medicaid, because you’re impacting people’s daily livelihoods.”

She was struck by how little the unemployment system acknowledged health coverage at all. “It was very interesting getting unemployment, but they talked nothing about medical insurance,” she said. “Like, how can you talk about one and not the other?” It is a gap she hopes her own story can help close. “I never thought I would be in this situation, but here I am,” she said. “I just hope my story can help someone and put a face to the issue of the unemployed.”