Mentors Are Funny Thing
About two weeks ago, I heard a quick five minute video about mentors and how they exist or come to be. Simon Sinek believes they can not be assigned and that the best mentor/mentee relationship is when both parties are both roles. I had never thought of that... then I began to think about the people I thought of as my "mentors". I have no idea if the feeling is mutual, but I know I owe a lot to a few people. This is why I write today.
As a teenager, I spent a lot of time lost and questioning myself. I found my first mentor, a teacher, in one of my most lost moments. She began as my band director, then my private flute teacher, then my personal mentor. She gave me the confidence I needed to make it through high school. I'm almost positive that, without her, I would have been one of those lost kids who would have remained unnoticed by other teachers. I don't remember any of my other teachers calling my name in class, or even noticing my existence. Well, except my creative writing teacher - he pushed me too. But my band director kept me from wallowing in my own insecurities and remaining in the darkness that was my teenage mind.
In college, I had no true mentor. I had a saxophone professor who allowed me to cry through my lessons, rather than play the saxophone because he knew that was more important for me than playing. He gave me the outlet I needed to survive my college major and become the next version of me.
My first job as a band director I was assigned a mentor. Lord love him, he wasn't a perfect mentor. In fact, I'm not sure I would even consider him a mentor. Really, he was like my second father. I had known him since I was 13 and he treated me like that. He took care of me and let me do my job, but I didn't really learn to flourish under his wing. I just learned to survive. I love him though because he helped me survive my first five years teaching.
Then when I switched teaching subjects, I fell into what I would consider my next mentor. She taught next door to me. Everyday I asked her, "what are you doing today?" Then I would copy her. Then, the second semester, she started saying asking me the same question when I asked. It was a gradual release thing. I don't even know if she realized she did it. The next year she gave me the AP Literature classes, and I thought, "wow! She has confidence in me!" That felt good. Slowly, she showed me that I could be a leader in my department and in the teaching field.
My latest mentor happened by complete accident. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if we were even going to be compatible work partners. Much like my first mentor, she came to me at my lowest point. I was considering leaving teaching. I had no joy in my career - I had lost it. I had lost myself. And, I'm pretty sure (we've discussed this a little), she wasn't sure if I was the right person for this new position I had taken on. She had only seen me at my worst. But we started working together. And over the last two years I have learned so much and become SUCH a better leader. I have more confidence in myself than I ever have. I see the change I can make in people. And it's in large part due to her influence. And now, in what I think is one of the greatest years of my teaching career, I may lose her. Because she is REALLY great at her job, and she deserves the next level of professional opportunities. I think this is the first time I have truly understood what a mentor is. I think I've taught her a little about my world (English), but I know she's taught me about what it's like to lead effectively. She has pushed me to be a better me. I love teaching again because of her influence. And that's awesome. It's the honest feedback she gave that has caused me to reflect. In typing this now, I think about our last conversation, and I realized I failed to respond to something she said to me. I'm careful with the words "I love you" because I didn't hear them from my parents a lot, so I sought them out from all the wrong places as a teen/young woman, and I got burned (a lot) pretty deeply. But I do love this young inspirational leader. Because she will always influence me for the better. She will always be my friend, regardless of where we end up, regardless if we never speak after she moves on to bigger and better things. I will always ask myself "what would T do/say/want to know"?
My only hope now is that I can maybe be what she is for me to someone else some day. I don't know if I have reached what Simon Sinek would call a true mentor/mentee relationship, but I think it is. In my heart it is. And that's enough for me. Because it's about growth. And I have grown.
As a teenager, I spent a lot of time lost and questioning myself. I found my first mentor, a teacher, in one of my most lost moments. She began as my band director, then my private flute teacher, then my personal mentor. She gave me the confidence I needed to make it through high school. I'm almost positive that, without her, I would have been one of those lost kids who would have remained unnoticed by other teachers. I don't remember any of my other teachers calling my name in class, or even noticing my existence. Well, except my creative writing teacher - he pushed me too. But my band director kept me from wallowing in my own insecurities and remaining in the darkness that was my teenage mind.
In college, I had no true mentor. I had a saxophone professor who allowed me to cry through my lessons, rather than play the saxophone because he knew that was more important for me than playing. He gave me the outlet I needed to survive my college major and become the next version of me.
My first job as a band director I was assigned a mentor. Lord love him, he wasn't a perfect mentor. In fact, I'm not sure I would even consider him a mentor. Really, he was like my second father. I had known him since I was 13 and he treated me like that. He took care of me and let me do my job, but I didn't really learn to flourish under his wing. I just learned to survive. I love him though because he helped me survive my first five years teaching.
Then when I switched teaching subjects, I fell into what I would consider my next mentor. She taught next door to me. Everyday I asked her, "what are you doing today?" Then I would copy her. Then, the second semester, she started saying asking me the same question when I asked. It was a gradual release thing. I don't even know if she realized she did it. The next year she gave me the AP Literature classes, and I thought, "wow! She has confidence in me!" That felt good. Slowly, she showed me that I could be a leader in my department and in the teaching field.
My latest mentor happened by complete accident. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if we were even going to be compatible work partners. Much like my first mentor, she came to me at my lowest point. I was considering leaving teaching. I had no joy in my career - I had lost it. I had lost myself. And, I'm pretty sure (we've discussed this a little), she wasn't sure if I was the right person for this new position I had taken on. She had only seen me at my worst. But we started working together. And over the last two years I have learned so much and become SUCH a better leader. I have more confidence in myself than I ever have. I see the change I can make in people. And it's in large part due to her influence. And now, in what I think is one of the greatest years of my teaching career, I may lose her. Because she is REALLY great at her job, and she deserves the next level of professional opportunities. I think this is the first time I have truly understood what a mentor is. I think I've taught her a little about my world (English), but I know she's taught me about what it's like to lead effectively. She has pushed me to be a better me. I love teaching again because of her influence. And that's awesome. It's the honest feedback she gave that has caused me to reflect. In typing this now, I think about our last conversation, and I realized I failed to respond to something she said to me. I'm careful with the words "I love you" because I didn't hear them from my parents a lot, so I sought them out from all the wrong places as a teen/young woman, and I got burned (a lot) pretty deeply. But I do love this young inspirational leader. Because she will always influence me for the better. She will always be my friend, regardless of where we end up, regardless if we never speak after she moves on to bigger and better things. I will always ask myself "what would T do/say/want to know"?
My only hope now is that I can maybe be what she is for me to someone else some day. I don't know if I have reached what Simon Sinek would call a true mentor/mentee relationship, but I think it is. In my heart it is. And that's enough for me. Because it's about growth. And I have grown.
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