Planning for work that's worthwhile

PRIME – March 2013 By Debbie Gardner debbieg@thereminder.com When does an individual's work life truly end? With the average lifespan now stretching into a healthy 80 years – nearly 85 for women – the concept of retiring at 65 and spending nearly 20 years at what sometimes can appear to be directionless leisure has, for many, lost much of its appeal. Add in today's extended economic downturn, which has significantly diminished the nest eggs of so many nearing retirement age, and it's no wonder boomers and their elders are staying in the workforce in record numbers. But what type of work appeals at midlife? What do you do if you are faced with the prospect of having – or wanting – to work for another 10 or 20 years, but the thought of continuing in your current career path just doesn't seem to fit anymore? Perhaps it's time to plan for your encore.

The concept of an encore career

But what, exactly, is a work life encore? According to the website, encorecareers.org, it's an opportunity to continue working and contributing to society, but in a way that you find more meaningful and fulfilling than your current employment situation. Simply put, an encore career is one with "passion and purpose." If this type of second-half-of-life career path sounds appealing, you're not alone. According to research done for encorecareers.org (formerly Civic Ventures) by the MetLife Mature Market Institute, "as many as 31 million people between ages 44 and 70 want encore careers that combine personal meaning, continued income and social impact." Crafting a path to an encore career is an opportunity for you to repackage the knowledge and experience gained in one field, and use it to "do good" in another field, very often a job – or volunteer work – in the non-profit sector. According to Marci Alboher, vice president of encore.org, leading authority on encore careers and author of "The Encore Career Handbook," those mid-life individuals who feel restless, unfulfilled and are seeking a career changers are in the midst of "a pioneering time" in America's work world. "We see a lot of analogies to the time in the 1970s when women were moving into the workplace," Alboher said, acknowledging that mid-life career changers may face some very real obstacles, such as adapting to new work cultures and technologies and often, dealing with age discrimination. "This will change as more people who are in in their 50s and 60s stay in the workplace," Alboher said. "I think we're going to hit a time when we've all been trained to plan [financially] for retirement, but the new training is [going to be] planning for your encore."

Locals who are living their 'encore'

As an abstract, the concept sounds great, but what does an actual "encore career" really look like? And, more importantly, how do you get there? PRIME spoke to three local movers and shakers who have made just this kind of shift from high-power corporate careers to encores in the non-profit sector. Though their paths were different, each has found his or her passion in a new career – with purpose.

Following a crafted plan

York Mayo of Wilbraham, Mass., typified the high-power executive in his first career. As Senior Vice President of Sales and Marketing for American Saw (now Lenox Industrial Tools) he said he had "a great job," but one that had hours and demands that, by mid-life, began to take their toll. "I loved it, but it was stressful. I was working 50, 60 hours a week," Mayo said, adding that for nearly 27 of his 30-years at the company he was required to travel "100 nights a year." By age 55 Mayo said he found himself "really burned out," and began thinking about retiring from his high-powered job. "I found myself really questioning why I was doing what I was doing; I was almost literally killing myself," he said, adding that the years of stress were beginning to take a toll on his health. At about the same time, Mayo said he read "Halftime," written in 1994 by Bob. P. Buford, an early work on the significance of transitioning to a second career with purpose and a "practical guide," as well as "This is a Hammer," the story of Habitat for Humanity by the nonprofit's founder, Millard Fuller. "Those two books helped me make a decision about how life would be, looking ahead," he said. He discussed his ideas with his wife, met with a financial planner and set in motion a plan to leave American Saw at 58. In "Halftime" Buford advocated individuals start their second career before leaving their first, and Mayo said he decided he wanted to move toward nonprofit work. Impressed with Fuller's philosophy, he looked up the local chapter of Habitat for Humanity and volunteered to serve on its board of directors. "That particular act was the first time I'd volunteered outside of [my] church," Mayo noted. "My job was all-consuming." He soon found the work aligned with his desire to use his faith to produce tangible results that helped improve his community. A get-it-done kind of guy, Mayo said he soon found himself president of the board of directors. By the time he officially retired from American Saw, he had a full-time volunteer spot with Habitat. "I took three days off and then Jan. 2, 2000, I started my second career with Habitat for Humanity," he said. In the years since he left American Saw, Mayo said he's had two paid positions – a short stint as the executive director of Girls Inc. of Holyoke, and another brief position as the president and CEO of Goodwill Inc., though those are not the only service organizations his name has been associated with. "Altogether in 13 years I took in a total of $12,000," he said. Noting that he and his wife had been "good stewards of their finances" over the years – something that allowed him to pursue a purely volunteer career post-American Saw, Mayo said he felt the most important factor in establishing an encore career was to find something you are truly interested in, and excited about. "If somebody forces you to do something, or you do something because you think you should, that's the wrong approach," Mayo said. "The question is, what are [you] passionate about, what is it that makes your ears turn red, that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up? . I cannot wait to go to work in the morning. "It's not acquiring, it's giving that fulfills," he said.

Surprised by an opportunity

Kathy Tobin of Springfield, Mass., the former news director for WGGB TV40, said she wasn't looking for a new career when she was offered the job as director of program development for Friends of the Homeless, Inc. of Springfield. But, she told PRIME, the opportunity, which came to her out of the blue, spoke to something in her heart. "I had a very comfortable position [as news director at WGGB], I could have stayed there," Tobin said. "My heart said this was the thing, this was the right place." She said her interest in the plight of the homeless stretched back to her early days as a television reporter in the city. "Back when Springfield was having a homeless crisis [and] when we were owned by another [broadcasting] company, my boss was troubled by what was happening," she recalled. "We did some telethons to raise money [but] we were exasperated as a management team. What we were doing wasn't going far enough to make a dent." Her concern about the homeless crisis in Springfield continued during her tenure on the board of the city's Chamber of Commerce. "We had identified homelessness as the number one problem to doing business in downtown Springfield," she said. During one of the Chamber's board meetings, Tobin said she was seated next to Bill Miller, the executive director of Friends of the Homeless. "After the meeting, he came and asked if we could have coffee," Tobin said. What followed were multiple coffee meetings over several years, where she said she began to learn about, and understand, Miller's vision to help alleviate the homelessness situation in Springfield. In 2009, she said Miller called her asking for help drafting a job description for a new position, director of development, which had just been approved by his board of directors. She agreed, and drafted a proposal. "I met with the board of directors early one morning and gave them a two-page outline of what I felt they needed to do for marketing and public relations," Tobin said. Later that day, Robert Carroll, president of the Friends board of directors, called and asked her to lunch to talk about her vision for the development director's position. She was away on a Cape Cod vacation with her family when she got a cell phone call offering her the position she had so meticulously described for the board. She said her husband told her he hadn't "seen her face light up like that in a long time" as she listened to the offer. Tobin recalled she wasn't looking for a new career at the time, but was feeling a bit "restless" as she closed in on her 50th birthday. "I was always looking for my next challenge [and] for 30 years, WGGB always offered me new challenges whenever I got restless," she said. But, after going to work in the same building since she was 21, she said she felt "itchy." "I'm not a risk taker, but I felt like there was something missing," she admitted. Coincidentally, at the time she was offered the position with the Friends of the Homeless, Tobin said she was reading an advanced copy of Kathleen Keating's' book about the Sisters of St. Joseph. "Personally, the book was very meaningful to me, I was educated by the sisters of St. Joseph," Tobin said. "I see them as strong, brave women." She said she saw their influence was instrumental in helping her decide to make the career change. "My spiritual journey was part of my professional journey," she said. "That was what gave me the courage to step off the curb and make the move." She gave her notice at WGGB, and started as director of development for the Friends of the Homeless in August of 2009. Tobin recalled that shortly after she resigned from WGGB, she got a call from Bill Pepin, vice president and general manager of WWLP, who told her she was "the bravest woman I know." She said many other people were also shocked by her decision to give up the status of a TV career, but her closest friends, those who knew the passion for caring she had, were not phased by her career move. Tobin said though broadcasting may seem like a glamorous career, she was never in it for the glamour. "It seems like, on the surface, it's a big jump from being news director to being development director of Friends of the Homeless," Tobin said. "I told people stories before, and I tell them now . about how people got here, and how the get out. "What I did for 30 years was try to make the community a better place," she continued. "I'm still doing that here, just in a different way." She said she had a passion to help; something that made the decision to change careers easier. "I give a voice to people who have not been heard, and when that voice has been heard, people respond," she said. "I speak the language of business people. I think I help translate and bridge the gap between the profit and non-profit world." She admitted she did give up some things when she moved from the profit to the nonprofit world, including her 401K and "other benefits of corporate life," and though her position requires that she be very hands-on in raising money for the organization – her least favorite part of the job – Tobin said she has no regrets. "I have now had two careers that I loved," she said "I didn't think I'd find that kind of passion [for my work] again."

A path to self-discovery

Joel Morse of Northampton, Mass., spent his first career in the newspaper world, working his way up in the advertising side of the business. "I started out in 1980," Morse, who is originally from California, told PRIME. "I worked for five different newspapers across the country. climbed the corporate ladder from retail sales to advertising manager. to advertising director." During his career, Morse said he worked for all the powerhouses – Copley, Gannett, Thompson and finally, Newhouse and The Republican in Springfield, Mass. "The newspaper business was very good to me. I put two kids through private colleges," Morse said. "But it took its toll." Morse said his typical day started at 6 a.m. and ended sometime after 7 p.m. – unless he had an event to attend. He also regularly worked a half-day on Saturdays. When he was offered an opportunity to get out of the business in 2007, he jumped at the chance. "David Starr had hired me [and] a new publisher came in," Morse said. "It was time. They were going in a new direction and I needed to go in a new direction. It was a wonderful opportunity . and I took it." He readily admitted he had "no idea" what he was going to do with his life at that point. "I took a year off," he said. "I'd never taken more than two weeks [off] in my entire life." Like so many in the corporate world, he said he had "all this vacation time," but never used it. He used that year to travel, first visiting his daughter, who lived in England, and then his family, which still resided on the West Coast. During that year Morse said he also had several discussions with his brothers, one who had "chucked the corporate world and now removes landmines in Cambodia." His brothers advised him that, after years of thinking about his family and their needs, it was time to think about himself and what he wanted. When that trip ended, Morse said he "bought a Jeep Wrangler, packed up everything and spent four months on the road." With no specific itinerary in mind, he headed south, "because it was warm," and soon began staying in very affordable accommodations – a series of hostels – he ferreted out along the way. The road trip, which included a one-month stay in a tree house hostel in Georgia, changed him. "I met so many people who had nothing, and they were happy," Morse said, noting that his fellow hostel guest included "retired teachers, expatriate lawyers and someone who had worked for National Public Radio." He began thinking back to his upbringing, and his family's strong belief in giving back to their community. He began to think about "doing something that I thought made a difference in someone's life." However, during that road trip, Morse said he got a call offering him a job back in the corporate world. "I took it, it's what I knew," he said. "I thought that, because I was different, I would treat [the job] differently." He stayed with the job for a year, but "hated it – I wasn't the same person." Morse said he recalled how much he had enjoyed serving on the boards of various organizations during his tenure with The Republican. "I really, truly loved nonprofits," he said. "I left [that job] and decided to dedicate myself to nonprofits." He took a position as director of development for Big Brothers, Big Sisters of Hampden County, staying with the organization for three years before being lured back into the business world again. "I did not enjoy it," Morse said of the second corporate job. "I realized I just was not that [aggressive salesperson] anymore." He lasted six months, then left "with a vow to never work in the corporate world again." He did some consulting until WGBY, the local public television station affiliate based in Springfield, Mass., contacted him and asked if he was interested in handling underwriting for the station. "I had known WGBY [in the past] and had worked with them when I was at The Republican," Morse said. The job offer, he added, "fit what I needed to do." In his new career, Morse said his job is to "go out and solicit companies to become underwriters for WGBY." It's still a subtle form of advertising sales, but with a difference. "The people who are underwriting on WGBY are doing it because they want to support public television, and are acutely aware that people who view their ads also support public television." "I feel good about doing something that I believe in and I feel like I'm making a difference," Morse continued. He said today he goes home each night feeling like he's doing "something worthwhile."