Backup

We always talk about mentors, about mentorship.

I’ve come to hate those terms, even as I’ve found myself in that role many times. Mentorship, the idea of it, creates a power dynamic that I think is often at odds with the kind of support that people really need. 

I’ve had folks in my life that have fancied themselves playing a leadership role for me, and the experience has almost always fallen short. 

In one case, I had someone I thought was a friend – though several years younger than me and with less real-world experience – introduce me to the group as their “mentee” at their intimate birthday party. 

I felt like an idiot. Like I’d just been paraded as an example of how gracious they were.

This thing that feels off to me, Paulo Freire calls, “false generosity.”

Basically, false generosity is when someone sees another as lacking, and they think that they can show that person how to fix themselves. The idea is that in this sort of dynamic, those who have the knowledge, skill, whatever… don’t necessarily seek to elevate those they’re “helping.” They benefit from maintaining their position as giver as it feeds the power dynamic to have a receiver to be generous with.

The issue for me is, this is rooted in the premise that the other is broken and in need of fixing. It entails finding an inherent problem within the other so that they can fix it. 

This often means creating a deficiency that’s not really there. 

No, none of us are perfect. But isn’t that the point? 

We are here to learn and grow. 

• My next door neighbors growing up. I can’t even count the ways that they exemplified a healthy, “normal” home for me. They created a safe space for me to just be me.

• My high school humanities teacher who helped me with my college writing sample. This was not a class exercise, he just helped me when no one else even gave a thought to whether or not I had any guidance.

• My Rotarian friend, who was always game to jump in and help, to try new things, to bring dry humor and sound advice to any situation. Their counsel and support was instrumental in my pivot to graduate school.

• My friend who offered to visit my brother in prison for me when I moved across the country and couldn’t – and then consistently did it, for several years. 

• The group of 20-something guys that took me into their circle during grad school, even though I was as much as ten years older than them. They brought the joy I needed to keep going.

• The faculty member with the surprising dry wit that always made me laugh. I needed that friendship.

• In grad school, the 70-something-year old neighbor who mowed my lawn in the scorching heat when the mere thought of doing it almost broke me. He was so confused when I thanked him in tears.

• The distinguished professor who, although unable to serve on my dissertation committee, encouraged me in my work, read my entire dissertation, and provided more substantive feedback than my four-person committee combined.

• The employee who was on an improvement plan. It broke me when they were brought to tears as my director told them they wouldn’t succeed. The way they worked with me, and powered through to ultimately become a top performer moved me, inspired me, and reminded me exactly why I chose leadership.

• The highly visible, and self-proclaimed anti-social industry guy who consistently, proactively provided me with connections to tangible opportunities. Who checked in on me regularly when my mom fell ill, and called me immediately whenever anything seemed out of step at my company. The epitome of caring action over mere words.

• The Executive who treated me as a professional and a peer, who actively encouraged and supported my growth through listening and providing clear advice that honored my desired path and acknowledged my potential.

• The colleague who always recognized the weight of truly difficult moments and knew just when to say, “Hey, how you doin’?” Their ability to see that I needed backup, to listen without judgement, and to be present through more than one challenging period kept me from losing faith in myself.