Displaced workers find new prospects in health-care field
31.08.2008 11:01
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- Source: toledoblade.com
"What am I going to do?" That was the question - the fear - that nagged at 58-year-old John Napier when word came down in 2003 that the Toledo steel plant where he worked for nearly three decades was about to close. "I didn't want to get back into factory work because those jobs are dying," Mr. Napier, now 63, recalled last week. Instead, he entered nursing. On the eve of the day set aside each year to honor American workers, a small but significant shift is under way in the nation's work force. Mr. Napier is part of a growing parade of displaced workers who are abandoning the shop floor, construction beam, and other industrial settings for occupations in health care, especially nursing. The trend is hard to quantify. But nursing school administrators say the number of such students is increasing. "As the economy continues to decline, I'm seeing more of it," said Beverly Vasko, an admissions officer at Mercy College of Northwest Ohio in downtown Toledo. "Adult learners who have never been in college and have been in manufacturing are now faced with reinventing themselves." At the University of Toledo nursing college, student adviser Rebecca Hatcher encounters two or three former manufacturing workers each semester, double the number of a few years ago. And administrators of a state program in Toledo for workers having trouble finding full-time work and those furloughed by plant closings and corporate downsizing say 60 percent of participants pursue careers in health care, often in practical nursing. "Health fields are generally very lucrative with ample career opportunities," said Michael Veh, work force development manager for Lucas County. The county's work force development agency, known as The Source, is the local coordinator of the program, which gives up to $6,000 a year in tuition assistance for up to three years. In Michigan's Monroe and Wayne counties (excluding Detroit), 44 percent of displaced and unemployed people seeking retraining last year enrolled in health-care fields, including nursing, according to the Southeast Michigan Community Alliance in Taylor. However, some prospective nursing students were scared off by long waiting lists for those programs, said Susan Corey, work force development manager for the program, also known as Michigan Works! The wages paid to nurses play into the field's rising popularity. Nationally, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, registered nurses earn an average of $30.04 an hour; licensed practical nurses, $18.72 an hour. That compares to $24.42 an hour for auto workers. And there is high demand for nurses. The American Association of Colleges of Nursing says the nation is in the midst of a nurse shortage that will intensify as the baby-boom generation ages. The Council on Physician and Nurse Supply, based at the University of Pennsylvania, estimated in a March report that 30,000 additional registered nurses are needed each year. That is 30 percent more than current levels. Mr. Napier is a practical nurse in the orthopedics department at Toledo Hospital. Scouring newspaper classified ads after owners announced plans to close Baron Drawn Steel Corp. five years ago, he spotted many ads for nurses. That prompted him to dust off a daughter's old nursing textbooks. Deciding he could handle the work, he enrolled in a one-year program at a career college. He doesn't regret the decision. "I enjoy what I do," he said. It gives him peace of mind to know that if he were laid off, he would have little problem finding work. After a quarter-century as a journeyman toolmaker and millwright, 53-year-old Jeff Burnside was tired of watching employers go bankrupt, enduring frequent layoffs, and enduring the uncertainty inherent in working in a union hiring-hall system. "When you buy a vehicle, it makes you nervous," the Millbury man said. With no paid vacations, road trips were on his own dime, he added. "It's costing you $1,000 before you leave the driveway." He now works in skilled trades for a private contractor at the BP Refinery in suburban Oregon and attends nursing school at Owens Community College in Perrysburg Township. "When you get to this age, you want to work steady," he said, explaining his planned career switch. He expects to graduate with an associate's degree in December and hopes to land a spot as a registered nurse in a hospital emergency department or other critical-care situation. "I like the intensity and focus," he explained. "It's a world of difference from what I do now. It's much more people-oriented." When Ford Motor Co. announced two years ago that it was closing its stamping plant in Maumee, David Czerniawski was among the first employees to take a buyout. The 31-year-old Bedford Township man went to work at the stamping plant out of high school at the urging of his father, a plant veteran. Although the young man met his wife at the plant and the pay was good, he wasn't happy. He said he was troubled by what he called a poor work ethic and lack of productivity of some co-workers. When the company outlined its buyout offer, he needed no time to think it over. It included college tuition up to $15,000 annually, textbook allowances, health insurance, and half-salary - $27,000 annually for Mr. Czerniawski - for four years. Last week, he began classes at Mercy College's nursing program after spending the past 1 1/2 years completing preliminary course work at a community college. "The nice thing about nursing is you can do it anywhere," he said. "You can do it in Hawaii if you want." Another former autoworker in the class is Michelle Pattison, who took a similar buyout from Ford's stamping plant in Woodhaven, Mich. The factory remains open, although its work force has been cut deeply. She lives in Newport, Mich., in northern Monroe County. She hopes to work in a hospital intensive care unit for newborns. She too had to complete preliminary courses before gaining admission to Mercy. The transition from work to school hasn't been easy, she conceded. Besides school, the married mother of two young children also tends to the needs of her family. Still, she managed A's and a few B's in preliminary courses at Monroe County Community College. Mercy officials are aware of at least 15 of its 835 students who are from manufacturing plants. The school gets frequent inquiries from displaced factory workers. "Some people have just been given notice their employment is ending and they're not ready to start," said Denise Hudgin, school spokesman. Cindy Hall, chairman of the nursing program at Owens Community College, isn't sure how many such students there are among the program's 800 enrollees. Other health fields also are attracting interest, she said. She suspects the transition to nursing isn't easy for manufacturing workers, especially those accustomed to the routine of the production line. "In nursing, every situation is different," she said. "You have to apply what you learn." Melinda Boehler, 31, went from operating machinery at a box plant in north Toledo to the medical sonography program at Owens. Practitioners use ultrasound to monitor pregnancies and find problems in organs and tissue. Today, she divides her time between Bay Park Community Hospital in Oregon and Firelands Regional Medical Center in Sandusky. Her current job is much different than factory work. "If I messed up, I could throw the box away and start over," she explained. "Now if I mess up, it's somebody's life on the line." The Genoa woman, a mother of two, spent eight years at the factory. She took the job when she couldn't land a job in her original field, geology. She was one of a dozen students accepted in 2006 to the sonography program at Owens. Maintaining a perfect 4.0 grade-point average, she was chosen as student speaker at commencement in May. Contact Gary Pakulski at:
gpakulski@theblade.com
or 419-724-6082.
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