From Employee of the Month to Reduction in Force: Voices #3
A skilled behavioral scientist shares the impacts of being laid off during the recent RIF* and offers hard-won insights for navigating unexpected transitions with honesty, resilience, and purpose.
We continue our new series Voices from the Field: Meeting This Moment in Public Health in which we lift the voices of public health professionals reflecting on the realities we face today - and the lessons learned across the arc of their careers.
Theresa Armstead spent 14 years as a behavioral scientist at CDC addressing violence prevention. One month ago, her position was terminated as part of the Reduction in Force (RIF) across federal Government. She reflects on navigating career disruption with resilience, purpose, and perspective. Her honest and vulnerable account offers a powerful reminder of the strength found in solidarity and the resolve needed to embrace change and move forward.
If you’d like to follow Theresa’s lead and share your own perspective on public health in these times, I’d love to hear from you. Please get in touch!
From Employee of the Month to Reduction in Force: Navigating change in a public health career
by Theresa Armstead, PhD BCC
For the past 14 years, I’ve had the privilege of working at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) - an institution long regarded as the cornerstone of public health in the United States and a global leader. Within its walls, and alongside thousands of dedicated colleagues, I’ve viewed my contributions as a way to make meaningful change in people’s lives. I have helped to identify violence prevention programs with the potential to make communities safer. Those closest to me have often heard me say that CDC is meant to be where science meets practice. I’ve always been passionate about supporting the last-mile delivery of effective programs by understanding best practices for translating behavioral and social science into meaningful public health action, not only for direct recipients of CDC funding but across the entire public health system.
Over the course of my career, I’ve been fortunate to receive recognition for my work: leadership awards, a career achievement award from the American Psychological Association’s Society for Community Research and Action, and - one of the most meaningful moments for me - being named CDC Employee of the Month. Out of more than 10,000 colleagues, I was recognized for being a collaborative and inclusive leader. That honor is one I still hold close.
But public health, like life, is full of change. And not all change comes on our terms.
Some changes in life come by choice, shaped by our own intentions. Last year, I made a deliberate decision to step away from a leadership position and move into a lower ranking role in a different center. After years of operating at full speed, especially during the COVID-19 emergency response, I needed to slow down. While others may have viewed this as a self-inflicted demotion, I was confident in my decision to prioritize my mental health and well-being. As I reflected upon this decision with a leader in personnel management, he encouraged me to read Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman. This suggestion came at the perfect moment. The book’s core message that life is always uncertain, and that control is often an illusion has stayed with me.
That message has taken on new weight as I face a transition that I did not choose. Last month, as part of the Reduction in Force (RIF) across the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, my position was abruptly terminated. Unlike the previous shift made on my own terms, this change arrived without deliberation or consent - a stark reminder of how quickly even a carefully planned path can be upended.
The CDC I joined is not the CDC of today. Much has changed - structurally, culturally, and in terms of how we understand our place within the federal landscape. Navigating this transition has been disorienting. And like so many others affected by recent reductions in force, I found myself asking, what now?
If you’re in a similar position - whether laid off, reassigned, forced into resigning, or still holding your breath - I offer these reflections not as prescriptions, but in the spirit of solidarity.
When facing a threat, our nervous systems go to work: freeze, fight, or flight. Each of these responses is valid. But we don’t have to move through them alone.
If you're frozen, feeling stuck or unsure how to begin again: seek support. There are free or low-cost mental health services available for displaced federal workers, and talking to someone trained to help can make a difference. Please reach out and seek guidance in navigating this challenging period.
If you're fighting, advocating for what has been lost or defending the role of public service: your voice matters. Keep using it. Public health was never meant to be silent work. Your dedication and persistence are commendable. Your efforts to uphold the values and mission of the CDC in the face of adversity are invaluable.
If you're fleeing, looking beyond what you thought your career would be: that is not failure and there is no reason to feel guilty. It’s evolution. And it’s OK to move forward with grief and gratitude in equal measure. Utilizing all available resources is essential. Career transition services and professional coaching can offer vital assistance. Many coaches are providing free or discounted sessions, helping individuals explore new opportunities and chart a path forward.
Even before the start of the RIF, I had already started preparing for what might lie ahead - planning for life beyond federal service in public health. This unplanned transition has prompted me to embrace more fully the intentional career choices and priorities that I had been considering since my previous career transition. I carry a deep sense of guilt for not fighting alongside my colleagues and friends to challenge the decisions that have terminated our vital work. I’m not used to walking away from something I believe is wrong - but I recognise that the goal of this particular struggle would require returning to a role I no longer want, in an environment that no longer fits.
An injustice has been done to the public health workforce, and choosing not to actively resist it doesn’t sit easily with me. My instinct is to struggle, to fight for what is right, for justice, and for the voices that go unheard - even when they are yelling at the top of their lungs. None of us are voiceless, and yet we’ve been silenced in ways that matter. The implications of this RIF for myself, for my colleagues, for communities, and for public health in general have shaken me. Not fighting against the RIF feels like a betrayal of my principles. But I have to ask myself the same question I asked during my last transition: what do I need in this moment?
I know that I need more flexibility, autonomy, and trust than the CDC, as it stands today, can offer. I know that my skills are transferable. There are other ways to contribute - ways that don’t require being in constant battle. And right now, that’s the path I need to explore.
As each of us navigates these transitions, I have found it important to remember that uncertainty is a constant in life. Embracing this reality, seeking support, and making use of available resources can help us to move forward with resilience and determination. The CDC may have changed, but the dedication and spirit of its people, past and present, remain steadfast.
The journey of a career at the CDC is marked by moments of recognition, periods of change, and the continual pursuit of excellence in public health. As we face transitions and uncertainty, we must support one another, lean on the tools available to us, and remain committed to our values and mission. Together, we can navigate this period of change and emerge stronger than before.
Let’s not pretend this is easy. This moment has brought real loss for many of us. There is genuine cognitive dissonance in simultaneously looking forward to an exciting new chapter and grieving a career that ended abruptly and unjustly.
But this isn’t the end of my story - just a turning point. I’ve always been drawn to community, to impact, to the science of behavior. And wherever I go next, those values will remain.
We are public health. Even now. Especially now.
*RIF = Reduction in Force
Theresa L. Armstead, PhD is a visionary public health leader with over two decades of experience, including 14 years in federal service, driving innovation, evaluation, and systems improvement in federal and academic settings. She is a board certified coach whose greatest joy is supporting the professional growth and development of other public health professionals.
If you would like to follow Theresa’s example by sharing your perspective on public health right now in our new series Voices from the Field: Meeting This Moment in Public Health, please get in touch!
I’m also still welcoming entries for the series Love Letters to Public Health. Please get in touch if you want to submit a love letter!
Action steps - a note from Katie
Thank you for reading this newsletter for and about the public health workforce. At this tumultuous time, I’m still really not sure where we go from here. But each time that I publish this newsletter and receive positive feedback from readers, my list of ideas for action steps continues to grow. I will start to compile these suggestions here. As we learn more, let’s keep adding to this list:
Do Theresa’s words above inspire you? Would you also like to share your perspective on public health right now? Or write a love letter to public health? Got something to say to or about the public health workforce? Got big feelings about the RIFs or the RTO or the EOs or the BS? I would love to publish your words here as a step towards advocacy and/or venting. Get in touch.
Let’s communicate what public health is and why it matters that so many of us have been forced to leave our jobs. What is your proudest moment in public health? Complete this form to submit your public health story to be used for advocacy.
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Do you have suggestions for how to leverage this newsletter and community to be a supportive resource to public health professionals at this time? Please get in touch.
I believe in lifting the voices of the public health workforce. If you are a public health professional at any stage of your career who would like to publish an informed opinion in my newsletter, please get in touch.
Got more ideas for action steps that should be on this list? You know the drill. Get in touch.
I close by emphasising what I said in a previous newsletter:
“At this time of uncertainty for the public health workforce, let’s remember our commitment to science and evidence and data. We know that validating emotions and baggage has a place too, but we need to be able to identify them and distinguish opinion from fact.
Let’s recommit to kindness and mutual support for the public health workforce and beyond. If leaders are trying to sow divisions among us, the best we can do is to respond with empathy, and by strengthening, connecting, and lifting up one another.
Right now, the best I can offer my fellow public health professionals is a place* to gather and reflect and share and vent and organize and ask questions and offer support to one another. We’re going to need that now more than ever.”
*This is a plug for the Public Health Connections Lounge on LinkedIn, where we seek to build community and conversation among public health professionals. Join us.
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