There’s a national generational turnover currently happening in the workplace, so the time to capture as much institutional knowledge as possible before it retires to Arizona was yesterday. Even if your organization isn’t populated with retirement-bound baby boomers, a solid mentorship program creates a web of knowledge, goodwill, and relationships that can strengthen your organization. Stop thinking of a mentor as an aging, good-natured employee willing to take a younger coworker under his or her wing, but as anyone willing to empower new employees to live up to their potential. Take age out of the equation; it’s experience that matters.
A good mentoring program is crucial when creating an unquittable workplace because strong relationships are the foundation of a thriving organization. Mentorships are an ideal way to not only pass down institutional knowledge and expertise, but also deepen relationships with good communication. While it can take place informally, a formal mentorship system allows managers to intentionally direct resources and the program’s parameters, such as who will be invited to join, how long the program will last, how often partners will meet, etc. Such programs also need a budget and a champion.
Like everything else, mentorships can be done well or poorly. In the positive scenario below, a formal mentorship program results in a years-long friendship that benefits the company as much as the individuals. Recruited from diverse areas of the company, the women learn from each other, form connections that strengthen the company, and contribute to a positive, well-functioning environment. At Accord Insurance, however, the CEO thinks a mentoring program is a great idea but delegates its implementation to others. Without careful planning, the rollout is haphazard and no one understands their role. Wishful thinking is not a sound talent strategy.
Fertile Abundance
“Did you know that a company’s most valuable asset is its people?” Evie threw her head back and laughed.
“Did you know there’s no I in teamwork?” Claire slapped the table and snorted.
“Wait, wait—” Evie burst out giggling again. She eventually collected herself and adopted a serious tone. “We need to create a paradigm shift to incentivize synergistic collaboration to transform our data-driven processes into a win-win situation.”
“Brilliant!” Claire gave Evie a high five.
The two women were decorating for Larissa’s baby shower, but transforming the conference room into a Disney princess wonderland was proving difficult. Store-bought decorations could only do so much to disguise the generic office décor, and the fluorescent lighting wasn’t helping.
“What are we going to do while Larissa is on maternity leave? She puts everything in perspective,” Claire asked.
“I will text her relentlessly. I refuse to let her abandon us,” Evie said.
“Who’s abandoning who?” Larissa entered the room wielding a tantalizing assortment of cupcakes on a tiered serving dish. She was as stylish as ever in a bright red dress that few could pull off so effortlessly, pregnant or not.
“Hey! Get out of here,” Evie said. “We’re not ready yet.”
“You can’t ban me from my own party. Pretty soon I’m going to be stuck at home with an infant and a two-year-old. I need all the adult time I can get.”
“Then sit down at least,” Claire pulled over an oversized, ergonomic chair. “We don’t need you going into premature labor.”
Claire, Evie, and Larissa met when they were grouped together through LongStar’s mentoring program. Larissa had been with the company for fifteen years as an accountant (one of the “Original Eleven” employees, present since day one) while Claire and Evie had worked there for two and three years, respectively, in different departments—Claire in media relations, Evie as a copywriter. The mentoring program paired mentors and mentees through an interview process. Evie remarked that it was like a job interview crossed with a dating app.
The process worked. The three of them had become friends as well as coworkers, despite the fact that Larissa was 40 with nearly two kids and a vacation home while Claire and Evie were still struggling with student loan debt and elusive landlords. Prior to Larissa’s most recent pregnancy, the three of them enjoyed semi-regular spin classes. Claire and Evie would have made the baby shower a much bigger deal, except this was Larissa’s second girl and she pretty much had all the princess paraphernalia she needed.
The LongStar mentoring program was Kevin Trainor’s vision. He rolled it out five years after he founded the company as part of his talent development strategy. It was based on his belief in paying it forward and back. He had his own mentor early in life, a family friend who helped Kevin through his father’s death from cancer. Earl had been a guiding light for Kevin and made sure he got through college and graduate school, and then backed him when he launched LongStar. The company’s first mentors included local professionals from all walks of commerce, because it wasn’t all about improving the company’s bottom line—it was about developing talent at LongStar so the company could grow roots and strong branches at the same time.
Larissa had jumped at the chance to become one of the company’s first mentees long before she owned her vacation home. She was paired with Scott Crandall, a dapper gentleman who served as the corporate counsel for the local hospital. He was everything she was not—quiet, well-spoken, dignified—but somehow it worked. What they had in common was far more important: a love for their jobs and a desire to live up to their potential. Larissa learned important life lessons from him, such as how to remain impartial and not take things personally, how to balance work and family, when to ask for help, and how to change entrenched viewpoints to solve problems.
Kevin asked Larissa to become a mentor herself two years ago. She jumped at the chance, even though she was about to go on maternity leave. It would be a great way to form new relationships in the company, and it was always nice to get out of the accounting bubble.
She was surprised how much the program had changed from its original incarnation. For starters, it was more formal. She first attended a training program to learn how to be an effective mentor. It was a combination of a webinar, take-home reading assignments, an in-person guest speaker, and a workshop with group and role-play activities. “I’m learning how to be a guru,” she told her fellow finance team members. “All I need now is a white robe and a pair of Birkenstocks.” She learned the difference between coaching and mentoring and how to share her expertise in a way that would foster leadership skills rather than turn mentees into Larissa clones. Still, when the moment came to face her mentees, she was nervous.
Evie was excited to meet Larissa. The kickoff for the new mentoring cohort was held at the company’s rooftop lounge on what turned out to be a sunny June day. People grabbed their morning muffin of choice and gave Kevin a warm round of applause for his opening remarks.
Evie loved her job as a copywriter, but she was ambitious. She hoped the mentor program would not only give her insight into different paths she might enjoy, but also pair her with a successful woman to emulate. Confidence was not her strong suit, especially when it came to making her case to authority figures. She had seen her mentor, Larissa Rabinowitz, before and admired her composure, crafted from equal parts high heels and confidence. She wanted some of that.
Claire Chen sat down next to Evie. “Who’s your mentor?”
“Larissa Rabinowitz,” she said.
“Me, too. I’m Claire.”
“Evie. I’ve seen you around. PR, right?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Copywriting.”
“Cute shoes.”
She clicked the heels of her espadrilles and smiled. “Thanks.”
After Kevin’s opening remarks, Larissa, Claire, and Evie spent an hour on the rooftop deck getting to know each other. Larissa was friendly but professional, listening intently and never asking overly personal questions, just pertinent follow-ups. She discovered that Evie’s dream was to become a best-selling novelist and Claire’s was to open her own restaurant. However, both were excited about the career opportunities at LongStar and hoped to join the managerial track. As part of the matching process, they had taken a personality test that indicated their similar working styles. They all liked to verbalize their thoughts during the decision-making process, were adept at simultaneously juggling multiple projects, and tended to be “big picture” rather than detail-oriented thinkers.
For the first few months, the trio joined other mentoring teams for a working lunch once a week. They learned about SMART objectives: specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, and time-bound. They talked about goals and action plans. During these sessions, the mood was casual and friendly, and the food was free. Claire and Evie did most of the talking, and Larissa, verbal as she was, concentrated on listening. She had learned in her mentor training to ask open-ended questions that brought the mentees’ visions into focus. They were a chatty bunch; Larissa worked hard to keep them on track. She was thankful for her mentor training in this regard, as she had to fight against her impulse to join their conversation about risotto recipes. When it came to creating individual action plans, Claire and Evie focused on how their work styles could be a benefit or hindrance. Larissa helped them think strategically about what they learned from “failures” in their early professional lives. How would they do things differently if offered a second chance? They talked a lot about the differences between managing people and managing projects. Larissa helped them relate their goals to the LongStar mission statement and core values. She felt like she was learning as much as her mentees.
Ultimately, Claire’s and Evie’s action plans dovetailed. Despite being in separate departments, both were interested in business-to-business advertising and representing LongStar on the trade show circuit. While Larissa had no experience in that aspect of the business, she knew a lot of people in the company and could advocate on her mentees’ behalf. She also knew how to create a methodical plan to get from point A to point B (and points C and D when they were ready). She could use her connections to introduce Claire and Evie to other individuals who would assist them.
But most of all, the mentoring program was about pairing people up to learn about the company, not to become better at their jobs. The idea, as Kevin told them, was to invest in employee development so people would stay for a significant portion of their career and not jump ship when the grass seemed greener elsewhere.
It was unusual for Larissa to be teamed with two mentees, but everyone agreed to give it a try and it turned out great. Larissa told Claire and Evie that they could ask her anything—from the details behind Kevin’s hot dog phobia to the real reason why LongStar parted ways with its long-time client, the Caturday Clothing Company.
After the first few guided sessions, each group was responsible for arranging meetings for the rest of the year. That’s when the women took to walking laps on the high school track Thursdays after work. The fresh air and exercise stimulated good discussion. They retreated to a smoothie bar on days with poor weather. All three were willing to meet outside of work hours, even though it wasn’t necessary with the program. At first, most of Larissa’s mentoring was simply listening and giving positive reinforcement as her mentees got their sea legs in the business. They were young and still working on asserting themselves in meetings with people twice their age.
By the end of the year, Claire and Evie’s action plans had been established and their SMART objectives achieved. Both women had taken advantage of the company’s tuition reimbursement program and enrolled in a business course. Neither of them were making a commitment, just testing the waters. Larissa had encouraged each of them to be bold during their semiannual review and to share their action plans with their managers. Larissa had coached each through the “how do I prevent my manager from thinking I’m trying to steal his job?” discussion. According to Larissa, the key was to tap into the company’s philosophy of abundance—that life at LongStar wasn’t a zero-sum game, but full of unlimited opportunities that people can create for themselves and each other. This was in contrast to a philosophy of scarcity, in which people hoard resources and fear for their jobs as they gain seniority. Claire had heard Kevin speak of this abundance philosophy prior to the mentoring program, but Larissa’s explanation really hit home.
The mentoring program had the added benefit of forging strong cross-departmental relationships that transcended fiefdoms. It was good for career growth and for LongStar. Over protein shakes one afternoon, Claire asked Larissa for her perspective on a social media campaign that had set off a crisis of confidence for her. Claire was tasked with reaching out to several Instagram influencers to get them to promote LongStar clients on their feeds. In theory, there was nothing wrong with this—it was a time-honored PR technique—but Claire had a problem with one of the influencers, one who had well over a million followers. This individual had been rather rude in their email exchanges and Claire didn’t know what to do about the red flags this raised. She was under a lot of pressure from her superiors to make the deal, but it went against her better judgement.
Larissa thought about it for a while. She didn’t have any similar professional experiences; after all, auditors were auditors and the emails she exchanged with contractors were completely different. She had, however, been in the business long enough to know that client relationships were a tricky thing. If Claire’s Spidey sense was tingling, there was probably a good reason for it. She decided that her best course of action as a mentor was to ask a lot of questions.
“Have the emails been abusive?”
“It’s more subtle than that.”
“Has this individual been properly vetted?”
“Actually, I was the one who suggested her to the group.”
“Based on what?”
“A story in PR News and because I personally follow her account.”
“When is the deal supposed to be in place?”
“By the end of the month.”
“Can you push the deadline and find a comparable alternative?”
“I’m afraid it would make me look bad to the team.”
Thus the conversation continued, Larissa knowing precious little about PR but using her talent for clearheaded observation and impartiality. The gist of the situation was that Claire was afraid the relationship could go south and damage LongStar’s reputation in a crucial segment of the market. This was always a possibility in the business, so Claire’s fear was partly justified and partly due to anxiety over her first major social media campaign. They went over “worst case scenario” thought exercises. They discussed Option A and Option B, and then found an Option C—a middle path. It involved a limited contract with the influencer and Evie disseminating the questionable emails more widely upfront as a way of alerting others of possible pitfalls in the future. A CYA move, useful in any industry.
Thanks to the mentoring program, Claire and Evie eventually outlined career pathways that transcended media relations and copywriting and veered toward new business development. Claire realized she didn’t have the stomach to deal with some of the personalities that inhabited the media relations and PR world, and Evie wanted to see more action on the front lines. Neither of them would have known how to make that transition without Larissa’s help. In addition to introducing them to key individuals, Larissa got to share her hard-won experiences. All three gained a solid friendship based on shared interests that would last for years to come.
A Dementoring Program
Brent Hall had a fantastic idea. Like all his good ideas, it had come to him in a dream. He immediately called a meeting with his HR director and a few others to flesh out his thoughts. His executive assistant, Molly, took notes, as usual.
“Accord Insurance needs a mentoring program. It needs to be world-class, like everything we do. We’re going to recruit the best mentors and pair them with our most promising young managers. This will give us an edge over our competitors.”
Molly wrote mentoring program.
“Our mentors will develop our managers’ potential and make them want to stay at Accord. They’ll never want to go anywhere else because they’re going to love it here so much.” Brent was really leaning into his idea, pacing the floor and gazing out into the distance.
Molly wrote people will never leave.
“We’ll blend cutting-edge managerial techniques with employee branding components to let them know how good they have it here.”
The director of human resources, Scott, cleared his throat. “Great idea, Brent. I take it you would like HR to spearhead this initiative?”
Brent snapped his fingers and turned on a dime to face the director. “You read my mind, Scotty. I know you’re up to the task. It’s a matter of drafting a plan and identifying qualified mentors, then it’s full speed ahead.”
Molly wrote full speed ahead.
Brent placed his hands on his hips. “Any questions?”
Silence.
“Alrighty then, let’s get cracking.”
On her way out the door, Molly overheard Brent as he strode down the hall to his next meeting. “Killing it, and it’s only 8:30.”
Back at her desk, Molly discarded her notes and forwarded an article on mentoring programs to Scott. The same one she had sent Brent two days ago, prior to his epiphany.
Scott read the article and got busy. He knew all about mentoring programs, of course, but like any major endeavor, a solid effort would require time and money. Brent Hall, however, was a seat-of-the-pants, results-oriented guy. Scott’s directive was to pull something together quickly to prove the department’s agility. It could be refined and scaled later. So, Scott identified one manager from each department with at least ten years of experience. It seemed like a good cut-off. He sent the chosen managers the following email:
You have been identified as a potential mentor for Accord’s inaugural Mentoring Managers program, an opportunity to share your deep knowledge of Accord Insurance with newly appointed managers. Each participating Mentor will be paired with a compatible Mentee. The two of you will meet on a regular basis to get to know each other and share institutional and departmental knowledge. This will help the Mentee secure his/her footing in a new environment and strengthen Accord’s core values, ultimately creating a corporate culture that allows for industry dominance. Mentoring topics and curriculum outlines will be available prior to your first meeting. Let me know if you’re interested in pioneering this important continuous improvement program. The kickoff will take place on October 1. We hope you are as excited about this opportunity as we are.
Scott received five responses from the thirteen emails he sent. Two managers declined, citing scheduling difficulties, and the others expressed mild interest. That was enough for Scott: He had his first three mentors. He compiled a list of recently appointed managers and matched them with mentors based on the reasonable similarities of their departments. Next, he developed a curriculum—a hodgepodge of articles and studies culled from the Internet and packaged in a bright, new format by an ambitious HR assistant. Four weeks after Brent’s brainstorm, Scott was ready to go.
Luke had been hired as a programmer at Accord, but had risen through the ranks to IT manager in a scant three years. He arrived at the Mentoring Managers kickoff without a good idea of why he was there—he hadn’t applied to a mentoring program—but it felt like a bad career move to blow off the invite. He would rather be spending his time on the flurry of reports the new month had brought than sit in a conference room for two hours, but maybe there would be doughnuts.
It was a small group, only six people: three mentors, three mentees. His mood brightened—this was obviously a very exclusive opportunity.
Luke’s mentor was Ali, a systems engineering manager. He had a professorial, graying beard and wore a rumpled button-down. Belinda, a woman from HR, was running the kickoff session and passing out workbooks with sections devoted to “Getting to Know You,” “Goal Setting,” and “Management Style.” Luke felt like he was teaming up for a class project in middle school. Ali was dealing with a seemingly urgent situation via text message.
After about twenty minutes, Belinda instructed each mentoring pair to turn to each other for a game of Two Truths and a Lie. Luke had his stock responses ready to go. He turned to a disinterested Ali and said, “I programmed my first video game at thirteen, I bake a mean lemon meringue pie, and I have three Dalmatians.”
Ali looked at him quizzically. “What is meringue?”
Luke and Ali met once a month after the kickoff, for about an hour each time. They stuck to the workbook. Luke talked about what he wanted out of his career, and they spent the rest of the time on management tips. Luke confided in Ali his concerns about performance reviews and how he didn’t feel qualified to evaluate his department accurately yet. Ali told him that review scores are simply a function of past performance and first impressions, both of which he could access. That didn’t help Luke’s anxiety over how to split the meager pie of merit-increase money.
Luke had hoped the Mentoring Managers program would allow him to develop a partnership with Ali that would lead to less territoriality between the various tech departments at Accord. Many employees had skill sets that could transfer from one area to another, and Luke had a dream of forming a company-wide database with languages and certification of all IT staff. He ran the idea past Ali, who didn’t seem too excited. In fact, Ali wasn’t excited about much at all. That certainly wasn’t unusual in their field, but then why was he a mentor?
They had lunch for their third scheduled meeting. The topic du jour was “Management Style.” The workbook outlined three major styles—directing, discussing, and delegating—along with the pros and cons of each. Luke and Ali were each supposed to discuss their personal style and learn from the other.
“I feel these options are too limited, so I did a little research on my own,” Luke said.
Ali seemed more absorbed in his chicken wrap than his mentee’s viewpoint.
“Turns out there’s something called the strategic management style, and it seems like what I’m trying to emulate with my team.”
“Hmmm,” Ali said.
“What would you say your style is?” Luke asked.
“Combination of all three. Nobody is strictly one thing or another.”
“Yeah, but which one do you think takes precedence?”
Ali shrugged. “Not sure it matters. The key is hiring people who do their jobs without a lot of oversight.”
“But what about career development and making sure employees live up to their potential?”
“People have a natural threshold in my experience. Some people are perfectly happy being code monkeys for the rest of their lives. Their focus is on getting back to their video games at five o’clock. The ones who want to climb the ladder will find their way.”
“The strategic management article I read discusses having a big picture and selling team members the company’s vision.”
Ali chuckled. “Ever try to get a roomful of IT people excited about insurance?”
“But what about pride in their work? Creating the best system to facilitate growth? Things like that.”
“That’s a good point.”
Luke had finally elicited a half-hearted compliment from his mentor, but the moment felt less than celebratory.
After the management style meeting, Luke revised his expectations for the Mentoring Managers program. It would look good on his resume and during his annual performance review, and that was enough. Having been a manager for less than six months and receiving no formal manager training beyond a quick online seminar, he was learning on the job. He supposed that was the way most businesses operated, but he felt like an imposter. A real mentor would have been invaluable, especially as a sounding board for certain situations. Just last week, two programmers, Ben and Skyy, got into a deadlock over who was responsible for creating a work-around for the customer service phone system while they installed new software. Each wanted to do it a different way and neither would budge. Luke preferred Ben’s solution and gave him the go-ahead. Skyy was livid, and the bad blood between the programmers was casting a pall over the whole team. What should Luke do?
Belinda had pitched the Mentoring Managers program as ideal for these situations. Luke wanted to be a team player with regard to the mentoring program, so he emailed Ali for his advice, even though it was out of both their comfort zones:
Hi Ali—
I could use your mentoring advice for a situation with my team. A couple programmers aren’t getting along and I don’t know how to defuse the situation. Do you have a few minutes?
—Luke
He received an immediate response: an out-of-office message. Ali would be back Monday and respond then. Except he didn’t respond Monday or any other day the following week. Luke didn’t want to pester the guy, so he waited until their next official meeting two weeks later. But it turned out Ali was at a conference and he missed the meeting.
Eventually, a détente of sorts emerged between Ben and Skyy and business proceeded as usual. Luke was relieved, but he also knew he hadn’t solved anything. The programmers’ undercurrent of animosity could flare up any time and he might have to step in. What would he do then?
Only four people attended the concluding session for the Mentoring Managers program in March: Luke, Ali, and another mentoring pair from Underwriting. It was a short session with neither pair providing much in the way of feedback. Luke said he appreciated the company’s commitment to employee development and that he found the experience useful. It would be dangerous to say anything negative. Nevertheless, he did feel it was a misguided venture, half-baked in concept and shoddy in execution. In fact, rather than making him feel like the company was truly committed to his professional development, he had the odd suspicion that the program had been created to soothe someone’s ego. It wasn’t hard to guess whose.