Jane Wang

Jane Wang did not grow up with a clearly defined career dream. Raised in a traditional Chinese education system, she was taught to focus on improvement, performance, and results rather than identity or aspiration. What she did know early on was that she needed to work on herself—especially her English, which she saw as a major weakness. So she did what would become a recurring pattern in her life: she deliberately placed herself in uncomfortable environments to force growth.

She chose to study business and entrepreneurship in English, even while pursuing Mechatronics Engineering at Nanyang Technological University (NTU). Confidence did not come naturally. Physically, she never felt strong, and physical education had been a source of anxiety since childhood. She was small in stature, not athletic, and often doubted herself. In college, she found a simple but demanding solution—she started running, 10 kilometers every day, without stopping. It was not about fitness at first. It was about proving to herself that discipline and repetition could build confidence.

Entrepreneurship appeared early. While still a student, Jane launched her first business—a fashion venture designed for busy university students who needed appropriate clothing for internships and presentations. This was not a casual side project. At a time when e-commerce was still uncommon, she researched suppliers online, conducted a proper evaluation process, and selected manufacturers in Dongguan. She adopted an OEM model, built her own brand, created marketing materials, and sold directly to students. The business grew quickly. Students even traveled across campuses to buy from her, and the venture was profitable.

Yet she chose to shut it down.

The business worked, but it did not feel meaningful. Jane realized that money alone was not a strong enough motivator to sustain her over the long term. What she wanted was impact—something that genuinely improved people’s lives. That realization marked the beginning of a deeper process of self-discovery.

Her father’s experience reinforced that instinct. He had once left a stable oil and gas job to start a tire distribution business. Watching him build something from scratch—through uncertainty, planning, and risk—made entrepreneurship feel real rather than theoretical. Jane did not articulate it clearly at the time, but she knew she wanted to build something of her own. Whenever she encountered a new business idea, she felt an immediate surge of excitement.

Jane graduated into the 2008–2009 global financial crisis, when the job market was unforgiving. With an engineering degree, she had conventional options. She could have continued in academic research—her final-year project even opened doors toward a PhD—but she declined. The idea of spending her career in a lab felt deeply misaligned. Manufacturing and semiconductor roles in Singapore also failed to excite her; the work felt process-driven, with limited room for innovation.

An unconventional opportunity emerged at STMicroelectronics, where she joined in a Human Resources role. The decision surprised many. But the company’s leadership had a clear rationale: most HR professionals came from administrative backgrounds and struggled to communicate with engineers. Jane’s technical training, analytical mindset, and comfort with data made her different. HR skills could be taught; technical thinking could not.

She started in recruitment, but her responsibilities expanded quickly—reporting, manpower planning, HR business partnering, and exposure to compensation and benefits. She was promoted rapidly, not just because she performed well, but because she learned how complex organizations actually function. One of the most formative experiences came when she was exposed to a major organizational restructuring. For the first time, she saw what many employees never do: restructuring is not always about layoffs, but about survival—realigning skills, managing costs, and staying competitive.

Her next move, however, became a defining lesson in the opposite direction. Shimano approached her via LinkedIn and offered a significant salary increase. On paper, it looked like a strong move. In reality, the hierarchical culture, rigid structures, and resistance to open communication made it a poor fit. Within months, Jane knew she would not last. The experience sharpened her self-awareness and left her with a lasting lesson: culture fit matters more than compensation.

Seeking an environment better aligned with her values, Jane transitioned into consulting at Mercuri Urval, drawn by its European roots, research-based approach, and flat culture. She hesitated initially—headhunting involved business development, and she never saw herself as “sales-oriented.” But the work proved valuable. Through leadership assessments and executive search projects, she developed a deeper understanding of human behavior beyond surface-level frameworks. Ironically, she appreciated these insights even more after leaving, especially when she later made hiring decisions herself.

Still, the pull toward entrepreneurship never faded. While working, Jane enrolled in a part-time Master’s program in Intellectual Property Management, attracted by the freedom to design her own curriculum across law, engineering, and technology commercialization. During a “Tech Launch” module, she encountered a soft robotics project focused on rehabilitation. Something clicked instantly. She fought to be part of the team, wrote a long email to the professor explaining why she was a good fit, and then led the project with intensity—interviewing doctors, nurses, therapists, and industry experts.

That project became Roceso Technologies.

Building Roceso was not a clean leap. It involved grants, family support, early prototypes, constant validation, and relentless iteration. When COVID hit, Jane resisted distractions. Instead of reacting impulsively, she used the disruption to reflect and plan, shifting business development online through remote demos and distributor discussions. The company expanded internationally, established a subsidiary in the US, secured regulatory approvals, experimented with rental models, and even opened a rehabilitation center to learn directly from patients.

Today, Jane continues building Roceso with a small team, guided by the same internal pattern that has shaped her entire journey: when something feels meaningful, she commits fully and persists. Her long-term ambition is to become a serial entrepreneur, building practical products that improve lives—whether in health technology, fitness, or sustainable fashion.

Jane’s career is not defined by perfect planning. It is defined by deliberate discomfort—running daily to build confidence, choosing English-based education to overcome weaknesses, leaving well-paid roles when the culture was wrong, and committing to entrepreneurship only when she found something worth building for the long term.