AFTER 20 YEARS as a lawyer, Nora
Fascenelli is heading back down the career ladder -- and she couldn't be
happier.
The 46-year-old divorced mother is a cub reporter for the Yuma (Ariz.)
Daily Sun and a graduate of a job-training "boot camp" for midlife career
changers. Having chosen the law at her father's urging, Ms. Fascenelli says
she never found a "comfort level" in the work. Journalism, on the other
hand, always had an appeal.
So when she heard Thomson Corp., of Toronto, was
recruiting a class of about 20 reporter-trainees for a 12-week program last
fall, she "jumped at the chance" to enroll, she says. Her paycheck now is a
lot smaller than the one she got as an attorney, but she says she views the
stint as "a three-year paid internship" for bigger things. "Now I highlight
things I had learned to obfuscate while writing briefs as a lawyer," she
says.
Across a range of industries, many companies desperate for qualified
employees in a competitive labor market are creating similar retraining
programs, hoping to recruit experienced workers from other fields. And
workers, from lawyers to longshoremen, are finding the intensive courses
make it far easier than it used to be to begin a new career. "The breadth
of opportunity is considerable," says Roberts Jones, president of the
National Alliance of Business, an employer group. "The market is tighter
than a banjo, so employers have to retrain people who have been working at
something else."
Trucking companies, facing a shortage of drivers, are trying to keep up
with booming demand for freight services by adopting the boot camp
approach. Meanwhile, on Long Island, in New York, where massive cutbacks in
aerospace and defense industries sent unemployment soaring in the
mid-1990s, retraining centers -- many of them on college campuses -- are
helping to turn engineers into computer technicians for companies hungry
for skilled information-technology workers, says Scott Passeser, a vice
president at Integrated Systems Group, a Hauppauge, N.Y. consulting firm.
Such retraining efforts helped push Long Island's jobless rate to a record
low of 2.6% in May.
One big advantage of these second-career programs is they produce
workers who aren't completely new to the work force: An employer usually
doesn't have to wonder whether they will show up for work on time. But
there also may be a downside to workers who make a habit of job-switching,
according to a recent joint poll by the Society for Human Resource
Management, an Alexandria, Va., employer group, and careerjournal.com. Many HR managers and job seekers
surveyed said frequent job-changers may be unreliable and lack career
direction.
"Job hopping is not a win for either party in the long run," insists
Susan Meisinger, SHRM executive vice president. "Taking the time to make a
significant contribution at an organization is important to a worker's
growth professionally and personally."
Perhaps nowhere have boot-camp training courses been embraced more
eagerly than in the computer help-desk field. Companies face an acute
shortage of people qualified to staff both internal help desks and
customer-assistance units. Complicating the shortage is another factor:
Many narrowly focused computer techies lack the "people skills" needed to
provide friendly guidance to hapless millions trying to navigate computer
networks.
A lack of computer expertise actually is a plus for recruits to
help-desk boot camp, says Eric Rabinowitz, principal of IHS Help Desk
Services, a New York provider and consulting company. Led by the Help Desk
Institute, a trade group based in Colorado Springs, Colo., the industry is
training neophytes including former stock brokers, flight attendants, bank
tellers and even a former member of the White House press corps to be
help-desk helpers.
James Beattie has worked at a ski lodge, as a cook and pottery-store
manager, but decided to take one of the institute's help-desk training
courses. Now he is making $30,000 a year as a help-desk analyst in New
York, working for insurance company American
International Group. "I can see a number of opportunities in the
near future," Mr. Beattie says.
Duff Swain and Lawrence LeGrand, two Columbus, Ohio, trucking industry
executives, founded a company in Puerto Rico to recruit and provide early
training of drivers for freight companies on the U.S. mainland. Operating
out of a converted tuna factory in Mayaguez, Worldwide Solutions provides
about six weeks of training in language, work habits and driving skills,
then turns recruits over for on-the-job training at mainland trucking firms
such as M.S. Carriers, of Memphis, Tenn.,
which has signed up for 1,000 Worldwide Solutions grads.
Many of the recruits are drawn from Puerto Rico's swollen ranks of
unemployed workers. Others, though, are teachers, firemen, office managers
and others looking for a job paying more than the typical annual wage of
$16,000 to $17,000.
Worldwide Solutions' boot camp, like many others, emphasizes total
immersion in new skills and one-on-one supervision. The company crams
classroom and behind-the-wheel instruction into nine weeks. "It's very
intense and closely scrutinized," says Mr. Swain, the company's
chairman.
The first class included trainees with some experience driving trucks,
but no one who had handled an 18-wheeler before. Nelson Loranzana, of
Bayamon, P.R., who previously had worked as an inspector at a Johnson & Johnson plant, found
the experience a little unsettling. "At first, you get a little nervous --
it was a challenge," he says. What made him especially nervous was driving
the big rigs at night. "It was really hard, because it was really dark," he
says.
Thomson started its program because of difficulties its community
newspapers were finding in recruiting college graduates. These days,
budding reporters, facing an abundance of opportunities at both online
media companies and established newspapers, often find themselves on a fast
track to the big time, without having to pay dues at small-town papers.
Jim Jennings, a Thomson vice president and editorial director, says 18
trainees from the first boot camp have gone on to jobs at Thomson papers
around the country. Thomson's decision to sell its community newspapers
three months ago put plans for a second class on hold.
The first grads included a theology professor, music-store salesman,
prison officer, social worker and pizza deliveryman. Rachel Wion, who had
been laid off as a customer-service representative for a church directories
publisher, applied for the Thomson class as a way to continue receiving
unemployment benefits. She finished first in the class and now is a general
assignment reporter for the Bucyrus (Ohio) Telegraph-Forum. Frank Scotello,
a lieutenant colonel in the Army who helped plan logistics for the Gulf War
and later taught English in college, is a business reporter with the
Reporter, Thomson's newspaper in Fond du Lac, Wis.
Thomson's boot camp took place in a model newsroom at the company's
Oshkosh (Wis.) Northwestern newspaper. Courses included journalism history,
writing snappy ledes and how to cover everything from car crashes to city
council meetings. Once a week, trainees were sent out to one of eight
nearby Thomson papers to pick up pointers from reporters covering police,
travel, lifestyle and other beats. Some trainees even delivered newspapers
and fielded customer complaints.
Lou Ziegler, a Thomson community and metro newspaper editor, taught the
course with guest lecturers from other papers. Bill Rungee, for example, an
editor from Cordele, Ga., told how to put crime stories together. "He was
ruthless," Ms. Fascenelli recalls. He'd walk around as students wrote their
stories and announce that deadline had arrived. If anyone kept writing,
he'd turn off the computer.