Transcript of Brad Benedict’s Interview

Brad Benedict calls himself “a Brad of all trades.” He has worked in ceramic manufacturing, run his own restaurant, done tech support, and sold for Fortune 500 companies. Today he works at Transfr, an education technology and economic development company that uses virtual reality to help students and jobseekers experience careers before they commit to them.

Benedict grew up in Allentown, Pennsylvania, in a home where keeping the heat on was not always guaranteed. He started working at eleven, chased basketball as his ticket out of poverty, then was expelled from high school and had to rebuild with a GED and full-time work. Along the way, a grandmother who believed in him—and a manager who took a chance on him—changed his trajectory.

He sat down for an interview on Tutors, Mentors, and the City, hosted by Kevin “Dotcom” Brown through The City Tutors, to talk about poverty, second chances, virtual reality, and why young people should not let any one path define who they become.

Kevin “Dotcom” Brown:

When people ask, “Who are you,” how do you answer that?

Brad Benedict:

First, thank you for having me. I usually say I’m a workforce advocate with a very nontraditional path.

Professionally, I work for Transfr, an education technology and economic development platform. My role has evolved—I’ve been promoted twice since this conversation and I’m now a Customer Success Manager, focused on adoption of the Transfr platform, leading trainings and speaking engagements, and helping education and workforce partners use VR in ways that actually move outcomes.

We use virtual reality. A student puts on a headset and is suddenly standing under the hood of a diesel truck, or in a lab, or in a healthcare setting. They’re learning tools, safety procedures, and what the environment feels like—before they ever step into it in real life.

The goal is confidence through exposure. A four-year college degree is great for some people. It’s not the only way to build a life. I want as many options on the table as possible for the next generation.

From poverty to “Brad of all trades”

Kevin: Where are you from and what did growing up look like for you?

Brad: I’m from Allentown, Pennsylvania. I was born in Lancaster, so I joke my life has always been a mix of worlds—Amish country and highways, poverty and corporate spaces.

We grew up with very humble beginnings. There were nights with no dinner. There were winters when we didn’t have money to keep the heat on. We were on government assistance. Mental illness and disability were part of my family’s reality.

The constant was my grandmother, Linda. Six people in a small house, and she somehow held everything together while still pushing me forward. She taught me the value of work and the idea that you’re not defined by your circumstances. Losing her to COVID was devastating. A lot of what I do now is about honoring what she poured into me.

I started working at eleven. My first job was popping popcorn in a little hot room under a movie theater. Then golf courses, pharmacies—anything I could do to earn money so my family could eat. I’ve been contributing in one way or another since I was a kid.

When your one plan disappears

Kevin: You talked about sports being your way out. What happened there?

Brad: Basketball was the ticket. Plan A. No Plan B. I trained hard—too hard.

Then the knee injuries came. We didn’t have the money for the recovery I needed. That dream ended early.

I didn’t handle it well. When you’re a teenager and your only plan disappears, it feels like the floor drops out. I spiraled. Between the pain, the stress at home, and my mental health, I got expelled in my junior year.

I’m both embarrassed and proud of that part of my story—embarrassed because I made choices I’m not proud of, proud because I didn’t stay there. I got my GED, went straight into full-time work, and started climbing out.

The mentor who opened a door

Kevin: Who helped you move through that darkest part?

Brad: There wasn’t a program that scooped me up. Once I was expelled, it felt like the system was done with me. I had to figure it out.

One person changed everything. Her name is Michelle. She gave me my first full-time job in the restaurant industry. She saw a kid who was angry and hurting, and she chose to see potential instead of a problem.

She told me, “If you show up here at 6:30 in the morning five days a week, you’ve got forty hours of work—and a chance to build something.” She taught me leadership up close: don’t ask others to do what you wouldn’t do, and don’t confuse independence with strength—most real progress is built with other people.

That job gave me stability, skills, and a new picture of what the future could look like.

Becoming a “fish out of water” on purpose

Kevin: You described yourself as a “fish out of water” more than once. What do you mean?

Brad: I feel like my life has always been a blend of worlds. Lancaster and highways. Poverty and boardrooms. Athlete, then expelled student. Ceramics manufacturing, then restaurant owner, then Fortune 500 sales, then tech.

Society tries to put you in one corner and keep you there. I’ve spent my life moving corners. It’s been painful at times, but it also gave me perspective.

Those experiences made me obsessed with access—who gets it, who doesn’t, and how quickly people get labeled when they fall off the expected track. When I talk to a student thinking about leaving school, or someone in their thirties trying to change careers, I’m not speaking from theory. I’ve lived it.

Virtual reality and real opportunities

Kevin: For someone who has never seen Transfr in action, what does it actually look like in a classroom or training space?

Brad: Picture a class of twenty students. A handful are using headsets. The rest are watching the simulation on a smart board, laptop, or tablet. One student is virtually under a truck—grabbing tools, replacing parts, following safety steps—while everyone else can see it live and talk through it together.

We work with school districts, community colleges, four-year colleges, workforce boards, and community-based organizations. The real impact comes from teachers, career coaches, and community leaders using the platform to serve their students.

Coming from manufacturing, I remember watching people get thrown onto the floor without ever seeing the tools. Labor shortages were real, training was thin, and turnover was brutal. If VR can shorten that learning curve and help someone walk in with more confidence, that’s better for the worker and the employer.

Sometimes I joke we’re the Netflix of career exploration. You’re not just hearing about jobs—you’re stepping into them.

“Do not let a single path define you”

Kevin: What is your message to young people, or to adults starting over, who feel stuck or behind?

Brad: First: you are not your worst moment. I was expelled from high school. I’ve lived without heat and food. That didn’t end my story.

Second: don’t let one path define you. We talk about diversification in investing—I think you need the same mindset with careers. Give yourself options. Take classes. Try an apprenticeship. Learn a trade. Explore an industry through VR or job shadowing. Talk to mentors.

People can get fixated on one closed door and miss the open ones next to it. I’ve done that too.

There are also moments when you need to slow down to speed up. Sit still. Look honestly at your situation. Listen. Widen your vision.

And finally: be open to help. The “Michelle” in your life might already be there, but if you’re too numb or too angry to see it, you’ll miss it.

On grief, hurdles, and getting back up

Kevin: You shared about losing your grandmother to COVID. How has grief shaped the way you show up in your work?

Brad: Her loss still hits me. She raised me. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. I think about her every day.

Grief made me more patient with people in the middle of their own storms. When you’re there, “it’ll get better” can feel hollow. Sometimes what you need is someone who can sit with you—and then point to the next step when you’re ready.

I think about hurdles. There’s a reason hurdles are an Olympic sport. Life will keep putting them in front of you. Sometimes you clear them. Sometimes you clip them and fall. The point isn’t to never fall. It’s to keep getting up.

Going back to school and giving back

Kevin: You’re back in school now. Why was that important at this stage of your life?

Brad: I went back to school at thirty-seven. I’m forty now and on track to be the first in my family with a degree. I’m studying marketing—finishing an associate’s and planning to roll it into a bachelor’s.

I wanted to prove to myself and my family it’s never too late. There are practical reasons too: a degree still matters in certain rooms, and I want to be in rooms where decisions get made about education and workforce.

Mostly, I want to take everything I’ve lived—the poverty, the expulsion, the odd jobs, the pivots—and turn it into something useful for other people. If my story helps someone realize a setback doesn’t define them, it’s worth telling.

Kevin: Brad, thank you. Your journey is powerful, and the way you turn it into action for others is exactly what we want our mentees to see.

Brad: Thank you. I’m grateful for the chance to share it, and I’m excited to keep helping the next generation find paths that work for them.