“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
Enjoyed this immensely......although I have to smile that you would even need to disclose no affiliation with Lego...gotta love the influencer world. Than was a gem !!!
Amy, I always love your perspective, but this reflection really resonates with me. I have been a mentor in work situations, and also often felt invisible pressure that I should be formally asking someone to mentor me, but my reality is more like what you describe here--many mentors. In my experience, one's career path, especially in creative careers, is not always linear, and you have different people and experiences that point you the way as you grow.
I love this approach. Early in my career, I tried to find my ‘perfect fit mentor’ and quickly realised it was too big of an ask for one person.
When I realised I could pick the best parts of multiple people, I started collecting what I called ‘mini-mentors’. I’d shamelessly watch/learn from them, and attempt to apply to my own life in a way that felt authentic to me. Love that I can think of this now as my box of Lego parts!
I was in your audience in Philadelphia last week and enjoyed not only your response to this question but also your conversation. I started reading your book yesterday and finished it this morning (gift of a long train ride). What's stuck out for me in your conversation as well as in your book was your focus on principles. I sometimes think we can get so driven to develop new business that we take on clients and customers whom we know to be complete and utter assholes just for the purpose of growing the business.I myself have been very guilty of this in the past. But your clarion call to be guided by principles at the end of your book really made me sit down and think hard. Well, that in combination with having watched a documentary about Nora Ephron earlier this week, which made me realize that a sense of humor is sorely lacking in business these days. But when you find people with whom you can work who both share your principles and have a sense of humor, well that really is contentment.
“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
Enjoyed this immensely......although I have to smile that you would even need to disclose no affiliation with Lego...gotta love the influencer world. Than was a gem !!!
Amy, I always love your perspective, but this reflection really resonates with me. I have been a mentor in work situations, and also often felt invisible pressure that I should be formally asking someone to mentor me, but my reality is more like what you describe here--many mentors. In my experience, one's career path, especially in creative careers, is not always linear, and you have different people and experiences that point you the way as you grow.
I love this approach. Early in my career, I tried to find my ‘perfect fit mentor’ and quickly realised it was too big of an ask for one person.
When I realised I could pick the best parts of multiple people, I started collecting what I called ‘mini-mentors’. I’d shamelessly watch/learn from them, and attempt to apply to my own life in a way that felt authentic to me. Love that I can think of this now as my box of Lego parts!
I was in your audience in Philadelphia last week and enjoyed not only your response to this question but also your conversation. I started reading your book yesterday and finished it this morning (gift of a long train ride). What's stuck out for me in your conversation as well as in your book was your focus on principles. I sometimes think we can get so driven to develop new business that we take on clients and customers whom we know to be complete and utter assholes just for the purpose of growing the business.I myself have been very guilty of this in the past. But your clarion call to be guided by principles at the end of your book really made me sit down and think hard. Well, that in combination with having watched a documentary about Nora Ephron earlier this week, which made me realize that a sense of humor is sorely lacking in business these days. But when you find people with whom you can work who both share your principles and have a sense of humor, well that really is contentment.