Mentors

About eight years ago, a beloved teacher of mine was killed in an auto accident. The news hit me like a ton of bricks. Beyond the normal grief one feels at such a moment I was immediately struck by what this man had meant to me during our time together. Put simply, he was one of several individuals in my life I consider a mentor.

Only two weeks prior to his death, I stopped working at the Catholic diocesan newspaper that would intensely cover this story. However, my former editors generously allowed me the opportunity to pay tribute to him. In the article, I made the assertion that we often encounter people in our lives that help us take the next step. That, for me, is the definition of a mentor – a person who gives us that gentle push to the next level, whatever that level represents.

In my experience, the people who served as mentors to me never set themselves up in that role. The glaring omission here is that of my parents. Obviously they are mentors, and so much more, but they really don’t fit the discussion here. I’m talking about people I’ve associated with over the years – friends, colleagues, teachers - people I’ve had an unequal relationship with on some level, and who taught me something important.

The relationship with my teacher was about as unequal as you can get. He was my math teacher and homeroom moderator. He was in his first year of teaching and finding his footing, just as I was as a freshman in high school. His personality was a little stiff and he often resorted to tough discipline because he was somewhat overmatched by the wise asses in my homeroom.

I was as shy and meek as could be, and was completely terrified of my new surroundings. Math was my worst subject, and would be a thorn in my side throughout my entire scholastic career. However, with this man’s help, not only did I pass Math, I attained a 91 average in the subject. He did everything within his power to help me understand the subject and, as long as I availed myself of all the resources the school had to offer, he was there for me.

Getting through that first year was a major triumph. The next year, owing to my rapport with him, I joined a weekly discussion group he hosted, and remained there for the next three years. Over that time, we became as good friends as a student and teacher could be. He was a member of a religious order so he had certain lessons he was duty bound to impart on us, but he also taught us how to be men. By the time I left him, I felt as though he provided me with the tools I needed to face the challenges ahead, not necessarily in a religious sense, but in terms of my burgeoning adulthood.

I’ve almost felt as though, in a figurative sense, he “handed me off” to other mentors over the years. It’s not like I couldn’t take care of myself – I’d like to believe I’m a fairly high functioning person, but there are always people out there who can teach us, whose life experience extends beyond ours, that can impart some wisdom to us, whether it’s of a professional or a personal nature.

These people I’m talking about have always led by their example. They haven’t sat me down like a child and said, “Today we’re going to learn how to deal with women!” or “Today we’re going to learn how to be a professional at work!”

These are always people who, for lack of a better term, have “rubbed off” on me, and provided me with a road map for navigating a certain situation based on their own experience. The advice, the wise counsel, has always been something I either explicitly sought, or was shared at some point as the relationship evolved.

The funny thing is, often I don’t recognize the relationship until it’s over, or at least my time with them is severely diminished. In several cases, I still enjoy a relationship with these people, even if we’re long past the point of seeing each other on a daily basis.

When my teacher died, I felt a tremendous need to express what this man had done for me, and luckily, I had an outlet to share it with those who knew him as well as countless others. Since then, it’s been critically important for me to give these people special recognition while we’re all still here, and I’m happy to say I’ve done that on many occasions (usually when that day-to-day relationship ceases).

Mentors are not necessarily people we aspire to emulate. They are people who share their experiences with us in the hope that we relate to them on some level. We may well make the same mistakes they did, but then who better to vent about those mistakes to? Having someone who can relate to our mishaps is equally as important, if not more so, than someone who celebrates our achievements. Often, they are one in the same.