Lately there’s been a lot of buzz about the importance of mentorship—I call it the Mentorship Mantra. Experts (with statistics to boot) will tell you that if you don’t have a mentor, you essentially suck a life.
Just kidding, but Business Insider published an article entitled, “If You Don't Have A Mentor, Then Good Luck Starting A Successful Career,” [hyperlink] and my anecdotal experiences have demonstrated that mentorship is a super important component of one’s success in the workplace.
Every time I hear about the ubiquitous “need” for a mentor, I envision a mob of women in perfectly tailored pencil skirts scrambling down a Manhattan avenue, tripping over one another in Manolos, sprinting full-steam-ahead towards… what? What does a “Mentor” even look like?
My First Mentor
I met my first mentor during my freshman year of college. I enrolled in a really popular new seminar on a topic that I was passionate about and was so excited and relieved when I actually got in off the waitlist. However, I left the first class terrified. My professor was a trained lawyer and she combed through every page of the 50-page reading and directed pointed, specific questions to unsuspecting pupils without warning. Literally the Socratic method. In college!
She concluded the first class by announcing her class would perhaps be one of the most challenging and “rigorous” courses that we would ever take and that if we weren’t up for the challenge, we should consider dropping as soon as possible.
A few students heeded her warning and by the second meeting, the classroom had considerably thinned. For me, however, dropping just wasn’t an option. I wanted to rise to the challenge—so I gritted my teeth and spent a lot of late nights in the library. After the class ended, I started getting personal emails from my teacher. Congratulations on my final grade, invitations to coffee, advice on where to apply to law school and—an offer to write any necessary recommendations.
It wasn’t until later, when I first became aware of the popular Mentorship Mantra, that I realized that I, in fact, had a mentor. We still keep in touch and I ask her for advice at critical times in my life.
Mentors Choose You
Today, there is a lot of discussion about “finding” the elusive question, and for a while, my go-to question at every professional forum or business lunch was—“So how do you find a mentor?” It’s the wrong question. The answer is simple—you don’t. Focus on doing good work, good old-fashioned hard work, and a mentor will come to you. This is not to suggest that every one you hit it out of the park with will take you under their wing. Not at all—but you won’t find a mentor without proving yourself worthy of the most precious resource of every highly successful person—time.
Understanding Mentorship
In “Lean In,” Sheryl Sandberg talks about the disconnect between the expectations and perceptions of many mentees and potential mentors. In her book, Sandberg describes a conversation with a young female employee who complained to her that she did not have a mentor. The young woman lamented that she simply couldn’t find a mentor—someone that she communicated with daily and consulted about every decision and workplace infraction. Sandberg, on the other hand, was taken back and perhaps a bit stung by the young woman’s implied appraisal of their own relationship. After all, she felt that she was mentoring the young woman—she had advised the young woman in key decisions and tangibly supported her career.
As young women entering the corporate world, it’s important that we not only find ways to open the door to mentorship by demonstrating our potential, but to recognize and value those relationships once they develop.
Recognizing Mentorship
Each mentorship relationship is different and is as varied as the personalities involved. Some mentors want to know all of you—about your relationships, your hobbies and your apartment—and some don’t need to know anything at all.
Do good work, and mentors will sneak up on you. The other day, I sent an email to two senior attorneys, apologizing for a misunderstanding. As soon as I pressed “Send,” the phone rang, the young female attorney ordered, “Don’t ever apologize for learning. It makes it seem as if you’ve done something wrong, when you haven’t.” After a quick (awkward) thank you we hung up and I sat at my desk stunned, like—Wow, I think I just got mentored.