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One Man's
Switch
From Factory
Floor
To a New Desk Job
Christopher Pearsall earned $170,000 in 2004, a sizable sum for a
blue-collar millwright at a Ford Motor truck plant in Norfolk, Va. But he
toiled 12-hour days, seven days a week most of that year in the noisy and dirty
factory. He sometimes dreaded going to work.
Today, the 34-year-old Mr. Pearsall is a $60,000-a-year product manager for
Concursive, a business-software developer that's also in Norfolk. He wears
slacks and polo shirts on the job rather than coveralls. Despite his lower pay,
he says he is much happier at the desk job in a small firm. "He has
effectively done a career do-over," observes Michael Harvey, the
Concursive executive vice president who hired him soon after his December 2006
layoff.
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Chris Pearsall |
![[Chris Pearsall]](MANAGING%20YOUR%20CAREER_files/image002.jpg)
Mr. Pearsall's rapid metamorphosis from an hourly manufacturing worker is
an inspirational example of how to switch professions while trying a new
industry. He found a double change is possible -- as long as you articulate
your goals, don't make a leap of blind faith, adapt like a chameleon and are
ready to take a few steps backward to make a huge leap forward. "My entire
work life turned around," he recollects.
Amid a weakened job market, more Americans may soon follow suit. A dual
swap, however, poses formidable challenges. You must create a fresh
occupational identity, overcome recruiters' resistance, and possibly accept
less money. Mr. Pearsall was "willing to pay the price. A lot of people
aren't," says Laurence J. Stybel, co-founder of Stybel Peabody
Lincolnshire, a Boston leadership consultancy.
During his decade at Ford, Mr. Pearsall often lacked sleep but not
ambition. He completed his millwright apprenticeship in just over half the
usual four years and also got a community college degree. The finance and
economics major was attending Old Dominion University part-time when he lost
his job just before the plant closed.
Mr. Pearsall became a full-time student, assisted by a severance package
covering his tuition and $30,000 partial salary for up to four years. When you
make a twin transition, extra education offers a cocoon "to transform how
one is perceived in the marketplace," Mr. Stybel says.
If you don't belong to a powerful union like Mr. Pearsall did, creating a
career asset working capital fund now could cushion you during future
retraining, says Mike Haubrich, a financial planner in Racine, Wis. You can
figure the right amount based on how many lifetime job changes you expect.
Early last year, Mr. Pearsall sought a summer internship at Concursive
after his Internet research suggested that product managers often advance to
senior management. A résumé sprinkled with misspelled words, however, nearly
killed his candidacy.
"This is not, frankly, a good way to impress a potential
employer," Mr. Harvey wrote him in an email. A product-management
internship requires "an ability to check your own work before forwarding
it to others," the stern message continued. The Concursive official
figured that he had scared the applicant away.
Instead, Mr. Pearsall immediately sent a revised résumé, letters of
reference and an apologetic note reiterating his desire to join the start-up.
"He had done his homework," Mr. Harvey explains. "He was clearly
very, very serious about making this double change."
Mr. Pearsall acted equally determined during his Concursive interview,
where he expressed keen interest in permanent employment. "This is a
$15-an-hour position. How on earth will you make this work?" Mr. Harvey
asked.
"It's inherent to the switch I'm trying to make so I'm going to make
it work," replied Mr. Pearsall, the divorced father of four. Privately, he
worried about making ends meet.
Mr. Harvey also grilled the ex-millwright about whether he could handle
software-development duties and an office setting for the first time.
"Otherwise, you are dead weight," he warned.
Mr. Pearsall pledged to work twice as hard as someone from a white-collar
background.
The intern kept his promise -- even though he says he initially felt
frightened and "like the weakest link a lot." He arrived early and
stayed late. At night, he volunteered to lug servers and help install switches
for his information-technology colleagues so he could absorb their know-how.
"Nothing was beneath him," Mr. Harvey notes.
Things didn't always go smoothly. At Ford, Mr. Pearsall never watched his
mouth around his fellow male millwrights. Concursive was different. With a
reprimand mainly aimed at Mr. Pearsall, Mr. Harvey told him and several male
co-workers to stop commenting about women's physical appearance in their co-ed
workplace.
Mr. Pearsall eventually proved "a really good utility player" who
adapted well to a completely different environment, Mr. Harvey says. "It
was clear he could fit in."
Concursive made him a product manager last July, and pays his tuition -- an
unprecedented benefit at the company. He graduates in August. Mr. Harvey
believes his former intern someday could "meld both worlds" by
running the division of a manufacturer.
"I do aspire to bigger things," Mr. Pearsall agrees. "But
I'm not sure manufacturing is the right field."
• Write to Joann S. Lublin
at joann.lublin@wsj.com1 To see
past Managing Your Career columns, please go to WSJ.com/careers2.
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