In an era when health and wellness are becoming central pillars of workplace culture, Sheriff Robb Tadelman discusses what genuine, structural well-being can look like inside public service. As a health and wellness coach, I sat down with him for a conversation, rooted in vision and lived experience, highlighting how organizations support their people from hiring through retirement.
I began with the heart of the inquiry: “What does health and wellness really mean to you, professionally and personally?” Robb’s response reflects both intention and urgency. "Do not be afraid to take that big step,” he quotes from a fortune taped to his screen, a reminder of the bold shifts required in a traditionally rigid system. Another reads, “We’re here to create, not merely survive.” For him, these are not trite sayings but anchors for decision-making in a profession that too often burns people out long before they retire.
What does it truly mean to build a culture where people don’t just survive public service; they grow, heal, and eventually retire healthy enough to enjoy the life they’ve earned? The conversation reveals a movement that is slow, intentional, and deeply human, built on the belief that wellbeing at work and wellbeing at home are inseparable.
At the center of the vision is a simple idea. As Robb frames it: “When we talk about wellness at the department, maybe during an 8-hour day, there is an hour that is about you.” He clarifies that the return on investment for the employer is obvious; “The department gets better for the other seven hours of the day.”
What sounds like a modest adjustment is actually a huge cultural shift. To carve out protected personal time during the workday requires rethinking schedules, contracts, staffing patterns, and long-standing assumptions about what “counts” as work. But to Robb, the shift is non-negotiable. “Until that goal is met, that’s my primary focus for employees inside the walls.”
This initiative began with supervisors, but phase two expands support to line staff; the people “taking care of everyone else.” The hope is that insights and practices will meet in the middle, bridging gaps in communication, trust, and resource access. For now, Robb is choosing patience: “I want the input to naturally find its way into our system.”
Collaboration and Trust as the Core of Wellness
While some agencies struggle to articulate why wellness matters, Robb sees collaboration and trust as the backbone. He and Undersheriff John Bucci have been deliberate about transparency, consistency, and accountability. “We do what we say,” Robb explains. “We’re super transparent, probably to a fault.”
Patience and persistence are now part of the design. “Robb and John inviting so many voices in to help build this new structure… that’s a slow process.
Robb knows this approach is paying off. Grievances are down. Conversations are up. Barriers feel lower. And to Robb, that’s the heart of the work: “Trust is the number one part of wellness.”
Culture change in government is slow, bound by mandates, contracts, and long-held habits. “This profession hates two things: the way things are, and change,” Robb notes. Even introducing basic communication tools reveals deeper challenges. Still, progress is emerging. I recalled his early declaration: “I want our guys to retire well.” That intention sparked pilot wellness programs, leadership training, and a growing understanding that “wellness” is not one-size-fits-all. Robb explains, “When we talk about wellness, what it means to you is different from the person next to you.”
The coaching pilot program we developed together is a return to a more holistic doctor of the past. A place where someone can safely talk about mental health, home dynamics, resources, safety, stress, and anything affecting their wellbeing.
We bring in health and wellness coaches who sit down in a private space and really inventory where a person is under-resourced. Over time, employees become less reactive, more confident, more willing to speak up, and more hopeful. These are quiet, accumulated shifts that change lives.
Five years is a realistic horizon for measuring a department-wide culture shift. Early indicators, like healthier bodies and minds, feeling supported, having resources, all move the community in the right direction.
Peer Support and the Weight of Loss
The department’s investments extend beyond conversation. A workplace gym helps staff recalibrate their nervous systems after hours of high-stress work. Peer support teams allow employees to receive care from colleagues who intimately understand their environment. These structures matter even more in years of heavy loss.
I acknowledge the grief the department has carried. Robb answers plainly: “Three correctional officers passed this year.” The silence after that acknowledgment becomes part of the story. Wellness is not an abstract goal, it is a response to real human pain.
The department faces constraints. Robb’s self identified “pie-in-the-sky” vision remains firm: every employee gets one truly protected hour a day, built into the shift. But achieving it requires negotiating with unions, exploring length of shifts, and challenging structures. That hour isn’t purely for exercise; it’s for decompression, report-writing, training, grounding, or simply transitioning between the intensity of the job and the rest of their lives. “When they go home,” he says, “they’re just allowed to be home.”
When asked about his personal motivation, Robb returns to the stark reality of his profession: “In law enforcement, the average is three to four years, you die after you retire.” He’s seen too many friends fail to enjoy the years they earned.
“We ask people to give their life to this profession. Then when it’s time to go enjoy their life, we don’t give them anything back.” What if the profession became something people could walk away from whole? “That’s the why.”
I recalled how Robb identifies with Ted Lasso, the coach who slaps a “BELIEVE” sign above the door and leads through hope. Robb laughs, acknowledging the truth of it. He’s driven. Intense. And committed.
He’s finding what works. “Before this process,” he says, “I thought wellness was just, ‘make sure you get in the gym.’ That’s wellness for me, but that’s not for everyone.”
Ultimately, wellness is both an organizational responsibility and a personal opportunity, woven into the workday rather than siphoning from precious family time. Robb’s goal is simple; an agency where people feel heard, supported, and equipped to thrive long after the badge comes off. A man plants a tree knowing he may never enjoy the shade. Robb agrees. “Everyone’s chasing legacy… you want to leave this place a little better than when you started.”
“We ask people to give their life to this profession. The profession can become something people walk away from whole.”