Musing on Mentoring
Last weekend my eyes fell on an article in the Boston Globe about mentoring and the power of mentors in the lives of young people. Jay Leno talked about a favorite English teacher, and a Boston meteorologist talked about a great graduate school professor. The article led me to think about my own children and their mentors, your children and their mentors here and at home, and my own mentors both in school and in work.

This mentoring is hard work, and it’s subtle. Often we don’t even know when we’re doing it. Which of our small words of encouragement makes the difference between a young person’s liking school and hating it? Which passing connections in our busy days leave lasting impressions? How many of our own mentors even know that we think of them as mentors?

The article argued that meaningful communication between an adult and a younger person is a common denominator in mentoring. So here’s the challenge for us as teachers and for you as parents: How do we communicate meaningfully with adolescents, in situations that require us to set limits that they’d rather not have us set? It’s our job as adults to see a bigger picture, or to see more sides of the picture, than they can yet see. Sometimes when we listen to our children, we are moved to change our minds: Yes, you can take the car. Yes, you can go to the concert. Yes, you can change that paper topic into something you are more interested in writing about. Yes, you can miss a family event for a special event with your friends. But sometimes we have to say no: No, you can’t take the car on a road trip to Florida for spring break. No, you can’t stay out of the dorm past 11:00. No, you can’t go to an unsupervised party at the house of a friend whose parents we don’t know. No, you can’t take seven courses, play on four varsity teams, star in the musical, and lead three clubs after school. The words of one of my teaching mentors spring to mind: “’No’ doesn’t necessarily mean that communication has failed to take place.”

The tricky balance to strike is this one: How do we empower our children without giving them a sense of entitlement? How do we encourage the right things and discourage the others, and how do we know which is which? How do we help them make intelligent and healthy choices on the one hand, and help them live with and learn from the consequences of their poor choices? How do we protect them from harm but allow them to take risks, so they develop good judgment?

My best mentors let me make choices, sometimes open-ended and sometimes within specific limits. They helped me expect more of myself and understand possibilities I hadn’t anticipated — both positive and negative. They listened carefully and respected my opinion, even when they disagreed. Often, they imposed unwelcome limits. Ultimately, they helped guide a challenging transition, or set an inspiring path. I wonder if they understood their power.