Dear ones, I’m sure we’ve all thought about making a complete career change at some point. But often the jitters, the financial security and staying in the same job prevail. Frank (41) had been feeling empty inside for years and actually turned his entire professional life upside down again in May. A courageous decision in favour of more inclusion that has paid off in full, as he tells us.</p
Dear Frank, you started your career all over again last year. Tell us about it!
I worked in IT for over 20 years, most recently as a senior manager in an international software company. Good pay, lots of travelling, long days – basically everything you imagine a career to be. And yet: I was tired. Always online, always available, but empty inside.
Today, I am an adventure educator with a focus on inclusion. With my non-profit company inklusiv(er)leben , I offer climbing and SUP programmes for people with and without disabilities. I also accompany school classes, youth groups and teams on adventure days that are not about performance – but about togetherness.
Credit: ejf.de
Giving up such a well-paid job was certainly not easy. Was there a point when you realised: I don’t want this anymore?
There wasn’t a single moment at all – rather lots of little ones. I was constantly stressed and felt like I was being controlled by others. Even my family felt it. At some point, my wife Sandra asked: „Why do you change jobs every few years?“
We wrote a list: What can I do? What do I love? What drains my energy? It suddenly became very clear: I want to work with people, I want to get out into nature. I want to experience that what I do makes a difference.
So I began training as an experiential educator, later studying inclusion education by distance learning – and knew that this was my path.
What were the reactions in your environment back then?
Rather mixed. Some thought it was crazy to give up a secure job. Others admired me. I had the most support from my wife and our children. Sandra always said: „We can do it – together.“ I would never have dared to do it without her.</p
How did you come up with the idea of living(in)inclusively ?
I’ve been climbing for as long as I can remember – it’s my balance, my adventure, my haven of peace
After a motorbike accident, I was severely restricted for a while. This phase showed me how vulnerable things we take for granted can be – and how much freedom movement means.</p
When I later helped with an inclusive climbing project organised by the DAV Berlin, I saw how much joy and self-confidence is created when barriers fall. People were climbing who previously thought it was „not for them“ – and suddenly they were beaming with pride.</p
I wanted more of it. More opportunities, more participation, more real encounters.
So I founded inclusive living to show that adventures are there for everyone, regardless of their physical or mental abilities.
How have you changed and how has your life changed since your new job?
I’m more balanced, happier, more present I work a lot – but with purpose. And my family and friends feel that too. Of course, we earn less these days and have to think more carefully about what is and isn’t possible. But in return, I feel like I’m really living – and not just working.</p
How do you rate inclusion in general in Germany? What urgently needs to change?
There are great initiatives – especially in Berlin and Brandenburg. But real inclusion, i.e. equal participation, is still a long way off Children with disabilities often go to special schools, adults end up in workshops instead of the primary labour market These are two separate worlds – and this is also reflected in leisure time.
I hope that we can learn to grow together. That children like my daughter (autism) or my cousin (trisomy 21) can simply belong – without extra permission, without a special role. I hope that no child is marginalised – neither in sport nor in life – and that inclusion is no longer seen as an „extra“, but as completely normal.
Credits: @sandra_parentin_fotografie
Is there an experience from the past year that has particularly touched you?
Oh, many, but three moments will stay with me forever. At the first big inclusive action day at the DAV climbing centre in Berlin, we had 120 participants, many with physical or mental disabilities, and 30 volunteers. This energy, this togetherness – it was incredible.</p
Then there was this boy in a school climbing group: I got to know him as a non-speaking autistic person with a fear of heights. One day he got off the bus, looked at me and said: „Frank! Up!“
That day, he climbed the full 18 metres. I had tears in my eyes.
And a woman in a wheelchair who only wanted to watch a SUP tour at first. At the end, she paddled across the lake laughing and said: „I never thought I could do that.“ Moments like that make me feel like I’ve done everything right.
