Chris Berry On The Net

Even though I have been unemployed for the past six months, the idea of leaving Roanoke to seek opportunities elsewhere has rarely entered my mind. In my younger days I was always prepared to pack up and relocate to take advantage of an opportunity for career advancement. This quest led me to a number of major metropolitan areas including, Richmond, Charlotte, Washington DC, and Buffalo, NY. My career was on a fast-track, but the price I paid was the loss of any sense of belonging in any of the places I lived.

My moving habit began very early in my life as my father pursued the same career quest. I was born in Berkeley, CA, but my family moved to Salem when I was only a few weeks old. He established a thriving accounting practice, and over the next 16 years took us on a series of moves throughout southwest Virginia as he expanded the business. We eventually ended up back in the Roanoke Valley, but by the time I was halfway though high school I had already moved six times.

After graduating from high school, I established my own moving habit that eventually put my father to shame. Lacking any sense of direction or purpose, I withdrew from Roanoke College and joined the Army halfway through my freshman year. I served out my two year enlistment at Ft. Sill, OK, and then returned to school at the Rochester Institute of Technology in Rochester, NY. I spent two years there before transferring to Randolph-Macon College in Ashland, VA. After graduating from Randolph-Macon, I returned to Rochester to pursue my Masters degree.

When I finally completed my studies I took a job in Richmond, VA with the intention of making it my home. I was there for less than a year before I was offered the opportunity to transfer to Charlotte, NC. I only remained there for a year before my employer began to display serious financial problems, so I took a similar job with a major competitor based in Lynchburg, VA. I worked for that company for nearly 10 years, but I maintained residences in Lynchburg and Alexandria for part of that time. I eventually got tired of the weekly 400 mile round-trip commute and became a full-time Northern Virginia resident.

I met my wife during the time that I lived in Northern Virginia, and a couple years later I was recruited to take a position with a company outside of Buffalo, NY. We settled in a small town just north of Buffalo and thought we would have a chance to establish some roots in the community. We joined the local country club and developed an active social life. After 2 ½ years, the company I worked for was acquired by a competitor, and my job as Vice President of Sales was one of several key management positions made redundant by the merger. I resigned from the company and made the decision to leave the printing industry. My wife and I also decided that we had no particular reason or desire to remain in New York, so after considerable deliberation we made the decision to come to Roanoke.

Even though I had been gone for twenty years, Roanoke was the one place that I had always felt some sense of connection. I came here without any real sense of what I wanted to do for the next stage of my career, and for the first time in my life I experienced what it was like to be unemployed. Up until this point, I had never been without a job from the day I left school. When I changed jobs it was because I had sought out a specific opportunity, or I had been aggressively recruited. That all changed the day I decided to leave the printing industry.

I eventually started a business of my own that I operated for four years before selling it, and I’ve been seeking out new opportunities since that time. I admit that I’ve placed myself in a difficult position by abandoning a successful career track, but I seriously underestimated the difficulty I would encounter making the transition. Local employers have shown no willingness to even consider that my talents and experience might be applicable in a different field.

I don’t know where it comes from, but I’ve heard it said that the two most important things a parent can give a child are roots and wings. Ironically, the first time I heard that expression was from my own father. I developed the wings early in my life, but my roots have simply never taken hold. In the course of my forty some odd years, I’ve lived in 13 houses, 8 apartments, and 2 condos. I’ve lived longer in the temporary house that we bought in December of 2002 than any other place I’ve ever called home.

On the whole, my experience living in a variety of towns and cities has been positive, but I’m paying a price for those positive experiences today. Since I’ve never stayed in any one place long enough to establish real connections, I lack the network of personal contacts that are usually instrumental in any job search. Even though many of the people I attended high school with are now in positions of power and influence throughout the city, I lost all contact with most of those people decades ago. In a town where connections often mean more than talent or experience, I’m still the new kid in school.

Given my past propensity to move at the drop of a hat, several people have asked recently why I bother to stay in Roanoke. I have no doubt that I could have my choice of rewarding opportunities if I were willing to return to the Washington area, but at this point I am simply not willing to subject my own child to the kind of traumatic upheavals that marked my childhood years. I want him to be able to grow up with the sense of belonging to a place that I have never experienced.