There’s a late-night television commercial that I run into sometimes for a locally owned carpet company. In it, a fellow who clearly enjoys his work introduces himself as a long-time employee, finishing with something like “… and carpeting is all I know.”
Even though I have shopped at this store many times and have always appreciated the knowledgeable staff, that line makes me wince. As a career counselor, I want to shout, “No, that’s not true. You know a lot more than carpeting!”
The ad came to mind for me last week when Jerry Kill, our University of Minnesota football coach, tearfully resigned his position for health reasons, saying at one point that he doesn’t know what he’ll do next, as coaching football is all he’s done. Since this story was covered extensively, I started having the same reaction as I do with the carpeting commercial. I wanted to shout at the radio or the newspaper, “For heaven’s sake, coaching football is not all he’s done!”
If you’ve been in the same job or career all your life, you need to know why I feel so strongly about this topic. Having counseled hundreds of people who were suddenly separated from their work, I’ve seen an undeniable correlation between the difficulty of the transition and the intensity of someone’s identification with their job.
In the case of our football coach, the die was almost certainly cast decades ago. Sports is well-established as a field in which the participants “become” their jobs. Politics, acting, academia and media are other arenas where this is the norm. But as our carpet expert demonstrates, any job can blossom into a lifelong occupation.
To my wary eye, every happily-absorbed worker walks just ahead of the shadowy threat of a career-ending event. That’s a skewed view of the world but that’s what happens to people who are happily absorbed in my particular profession.
The solution isn’t to avoid engaging deeply in one’s work. I’m not even going to advocate for diversifying efforts to create something to fall back on. This is very good advice but I know from experience that people who fit the pattern I’m describing are unlikely to take the counsel.
Instead of trying to deter this worker from his or her vocational obsession, my advice generally falls into two categories. The first is to simply save as much money as possible while keeping debt at a minimum. Obviously this is a good idea for anyone, but for the person whose transition between occupations could be unexpected and lengthy, financial solvency becomes a critical factor.
The second piece of advice is equally simple: See a career strategist soon after leaving the profession, regardless of the circumstances precipitating the departure.
If you’ve been in this situation, you may already know that you have a better chance of managing the emotional side if your transition starts with a blueprint of some sort. For most people, establishing even a loose plan tied to a timeline provides a much-needed sense of control.
While this stage of the process doesn’t require someone with career planning expertise, the act of engaging someone outside of your immediate circle tends to create new synergies. It’s useful to talk with people who don’t share the vision of you as someone who has always been or done your professional role.
The actual blueprint and timeline would depend on finances, health and other circumstances related to the transition. If the leave-taking was controversial, for example, intentionally leveraging the passage of time to soften the edges of the controversy could be part of the plan.
If this exercise interests you, there’s an easy way to try your hand at building a simple blueprint for the transition between occupations. Start with a timeline of about a year and divide it into quarters. The first two quarters are for cleanup and closure on the last chapter, the second two quarters are for exploration and ramp-up for the next chapter. Populate the timeline with whatever steps, questions and to-do list items fit in each segment.
Obviously, it’s simplistic to imagine that things will wrap up neatly in their designated time slots. But the point of this exercise isn’t to “get it right.” The point is to envision the end of one thing and the beginning of another, while developing confidence that you can survive the transition and even control some of the twists in the road ahead.
Next week I’ll get back to carpet experts, coaches and others whose skill sets appear to be tied up in their specific careers. You’ll be amazed at the power of transferable skills when it comes to envisioning new pathways for work.
About the Author
