UPDATE: Almost Reckless the book just launched last week. Last night, I gave a talk to 500 women entreprenuers/business owners/execs in Philadelphia. At the end of talk, someone asked how I found my mentors along the way. I promised I would resurface this stack out of the “paid” section.
Come with me down my most rabbit hole, I’m sitting here comfortably at the bottom.
I was recently asked: “Would you consider being my mentor?” I get asked that often, usually it’s a college age student. “I want to be someone’s mentor!” is often said to me by someone I’m interviewing or a young eager employee. And I get why. I mean, google “mentor” — who in the hell wouldn’t want one of these people in your life, and what a compliment to be thought of as one.
But the reality?
No one can bear this much responsibility. And even if they could, if they had the time coupled with the will and the skill, this is a set up for failure. One person could never fully offer this to another, you would ultimately always be disappointed. I wanted to dig on this idea further, so I called some friends who sit in c-suites at some positions, those that have arguably “made it.” And I asked if their companies have formal mentoring programs, if they've been mentors to others in a formal capacity, and who do they consider the mentors in their life?
The first two answers were yes. And then second one was far more complicated, because it wasn’t just an individual. And it wasn’t always an actual person. So, I think it’s important to reframe what a mentor is. Why? Because it helps set expectations, it keeps you looking in the right and often unexpected places, and importantly because it allows you to reflect and understand what you are seeking for yourself. And this is the magic combination, learning more about who you are, what you want to do in life, and building a blueprint that helps you get there.
First, let’s give a new visual to a mentor. I think instead of a whole being, it’s going to look more like a Lego piece. And of course, a Lego piece on its own doesn’t say anything, but together they build something - or at a minimum, get you on your way to creating something great. It’s a good exercise to go through, to think what Lego pieces you’ve collected. I’ll deconstruct mine here so I’m clear what I mean. I start first with either what I was seeking or what I found (because time sometimes reveals what we can’t see/articulate in the moment).
Principles. My parents, they’ve always lived by them, they were the undercurrent of everything they did and were happy about or maybe even regretted.
Empathy, kindness. My sister. Straight up she was always the better person here and I wanted to be more like her.
Clarity. My husband. He has a mental toughness about him and it’s saved us in many challenging business and home situations.
Possibility. My crazy Great Aunt Tantee. My Grandmother’s sister - she was an entrepreneur, never had kids, had tons of dogs.
Confidence. Mrs. Wright and Mrs. Jocoy - when other teachers saw me as an unmitigated disaster, they dug deeper.
Worth. Tom Ryder, he was President of my division at American Express. In a sea of Ivey leaguers speaking a language I’d never heard before - he was my beacon - LSU, Dad was postal worker, he is scrappy, large and in charge.
Possibility. Hong Kong - the people. An entrepreneurial spirit, it pulls you in.
Focus. The movie Nothing In Common. I had no idea advertising was even a thing - once I honed in on a career, my schooling direction fell in place.
Work Ethic - my colleagues. There are some that could Master Class this.
Tenacity. My boys. I’ve seen them face really big challenges and power through. If they can do it, I can do it.
Leadership. Former bosses at Ogilvy and American Express. They didn’t mince words, they explained the why and let me figure out the what. They had courage but humility at the same time.
Mindset. I read a lot of biographies, I admire people who are doing some really big things right now and who’ve powered through a lot and have held steadfast in a core set of principles that form a mindset that I share. When I start to doubt, I pull up their book/articles about them. Paula Wallace, the Founder and President of SCAD, Christopher Hitchens, Mary Wells Lawrence, Steve Jobs, Edith Wharton, Al Smith, Andre Agassi. They fuel me.
Perspective. My friends I’ve made in my DM’s over the last five years. Never saw that coming, but when I need to bounce an idea, see something through a different lens, they’re now on my speed dial.
There are a few others, of course. BUT I am not complete yet, and I’ve no idea where I will find the next parts that make my final whole.
But here’s an interesting thing of note - there’s not one mentor that I learned MY INDUSTRY from. Maybe that’s because even the industry you pursue, just like your life, is the sum of many parts that are ultimately up to you to put together. This is a helpful exercise to do because it lets you separate what you’re really seeking. Is it just some facts that may help you make a decision or power through a situation - like if you’re a young designer it may be: what should I be paying for this shirt? Have you ever been sued by this predatory lawyer? Is the sell through this Department store asking realistic? Did Saks pay you? Those aren’t mentors, but resources.
So try building your own Lego mentor. See what it tells you, for where you are now, and make sure when it’s speaking that you’re listening. Ok?
And to state what I think may be obvious, this Stack is in no way linked or affiliated with Lego. It’s just a super clear visual.
“Mentorship” as this capital-M thing that has developed in the last ten to fifteen years has always seemed real weird to me. Formerly, it seemed like a real friendship, albeit one where one person had more work experience, and therefore more advice to give, but now it’s much more hierarchical and rigid, such that the mentor seems to get nothing out of it except responsibilities - and the mentee gets advice shorn of actual human connection. For the mentor in particular, it seems like the expectations are incredibly high- multiple meetings a month, lots of emotional labor, no mutual sharing.
Amy, love the Lego analogy. I was nodding my head as I read. I have found-- both in my professional and creative pursuits--that I admire different strengths in those I know, and those I wish to know, or wish to know better. And this can be an integrated, not bifurcated, perspective. Integration, not bifurcation including when the Legos come from industries and professions other than the one in which I have formal training. Parts make a whole. Also, thank you for the Lego-mentor visual. So good. :D