Dan Rosen
Weinberg and Saltz discuss legal precedents at U-M's Law Library.
SECOND THOUGHTS
After years in one field, some say goodbye
to their old jobs and hello to new careers.
STEVEN M. HARTZ
Jeu'ish News Intern
A
s Susan Kalb Wein-
berg walked across
the stage during
the University of
Michigan's law
school commencement last
year, she held more than just
her diploma. Weinberg, 39,
also carried her children.
"My sons, 6-year-old David
and 2-year-old Steven, literal-
ly went through law school
with me," said Weinberg, who
was pregnant with Steven her
second year.
One year later, Daniella
Saltz, 40, also brought her
children on stage when she
received her law degree at U-
M's commencement.
For Weinberg and Saltz, the
commencement marked the
beginning of new careers —
their second.
Weinberg and Saltz are two
of several area residents
who've changed careers.
Weinberg held a key ad-
42 FRInAY JI 11 Y 9R 19Fi9
ministrative position with the
Detroit Institute of Arts,
where she worked for 12
years, while Saltz was an ar-
chaeologist for 17 years, the
last 12 in Israel.
Both will begin their new
jobs at Detroit law firms next
month.
"Four years ago, I felt I was
ready for a career change,"
Weinberg said. "I had been
doing a lot of legally related
things at the museum. There
wasn't much more room for
advancement at the DIA. My
husband, Neal, a pediatri-
cian, and I were pretty much
settled in the Ann Ar-
bor/Detroit area. I decided
that if I was going to make a
career change, that was the
time to do it."
Although Weinberg admit-
ted she sometimes misses her
old job, Saltz confessed she
doesn't miss her previous
career as an archaeologist at
all.
"My friends and colleagues
in Israel couldn't believe I was
giving this up," Saltz said.
"They realized I was totally
serious when I started selling
my (archaeology) library."
Saltz received a Bachelor of
Arts degree in Near Eastern
studies at the University of
Michigan in 1969. From
there, she went to Harvard
and earned a master's degree
and Ph.D.
"After my undergraduate
studies, I wanted to go to law
school," Saltz said. "But at
that time, law school seemed
to me a boring means to a
rather certain end. I was
young. It was the late 1960s,
and I had a lot of shpilkes I
had to get rid of. I always
meant to go to law school
someday, but the someday
kept dragging on and on."
Finally, the day arrived.
Saltz's husband, Dani Katsir,
who was a lieutenent colonel
in the Israeli air force, retired
after 20 years of service, and
Saltz and her family moved
from Jerusalem to Ann Arbor
so she could pursue her fourth
degree, a juris doctor.
Katsir, then 40, also wanted
to begin a new career.
"One summer, we were in
Chicago visiting close
friends," Katsir said. "They
were living in a real Vic-
torian house that had
beautiful stained-glass win-
dows, and when I saw the
windows, I said, 'This is it.
This is the profession I want
to pursue (stained-glass ar-
tist)' I do a lot ofJudaica. I'm
really happy with my new
career."
According to Lou Ellman of
the career counseling agency
Lou Ellman and Associates in
Bloomfield Hills, people are
now looking for contentment
more than "big money" in a
career.
"The main reason for a
career change is job and life
satisfaction. In the 1970s,
most people were looking for
careers that offered money.
Today, they are looking for
happiness."
Ellman and his wife, Bar-
bara, have been career
counselors for nearly two
decades. Seventy percent of
Ellman's clients are in their
30s and 40s. Each week, he
and his wife counsel an
average of 30 people who
would like to change careers.
Sanford Rosenberg has
been a tune-up man for the
past 14 years, making house
and business calls, repairing
automobilies. The 42-year-
old-licensed mechanic from
Oak Park left a sales job in
Detroit to pursue his hobby
full time.
"I love working with my