“PAT, I WANT to know: Of all the things you’ve done, what are you proudest of?”
Courtney Martin and I sat close together, our knees almost touching, inside the StoryCorps recording booth. Looking into the eyes of this brilliant, impassioned young woman who inspires so many others through her editing of Feministing.com, her books, and the diverse communities she connects and strengthens, I did feel a sense of pride—not in her accomplishments, which are all her own, or even in mine, but in knowing her and in sharing this conversation about mentoring.
“You once joked that I should make a map of my mentees,” I answered, “and I’d love to look at that map, because then I would see a legacy that I’m not sure I’d see in anything else, including the television programs or the documentaries and all the things I’m proud to have been a part of. Those fade; they become the past so quickly. Lives don’t, and lives that are changed pass on to the next life touched, and the next. I think I might be proudest of the mentees I’ve had the opportunity to know and advise and work with. Like you.”
I’M QUITE SURE I never heard the word mentor while growing up in the fifties in small-town Georgia, but luckily, as I’ve shared, Mrs. Reid, my eighth-grade English teacher, was the mentor who changed the direction of my life.
I’ve likewise taken my responsibility to mentor other women (and a few men) quite seriously. In fact, as I tell the organizations with which I consult on the role of women in business, I believe mentoring is one of the strategies that can close the gender gap in leadership in this country and around the world.
Mentoring is one lever we can activate to advance more women in their work, to gain access to capital and economic opportunities they might otherwise miss, and to be better prepared for opportunities when they come. I believe that one of the responsibilities of being a woman who is committed to working toward a more just world is being willing to be a mentor when and where needed. All of us, mentees and mentors, are dangerous women in the making or already boldly declared to be in the sisterhood. We need the support of each other at a fundamental level that goes beyond mentoring and even beyond sponsorship.
Sponsors are what leading Morgan Stanley banker Carla Harris calls colleagues inside organizations who will speak up for others, who are prepared to be more than a mentor. Sponsors are our representatives, our agents, our committed advocates. Harris has been using her sphere of influence and her powerful woman’s voice to call for sponsors as well as mentors. “Mentoring,” she says, “won’t be enough to ensure that you’ll get the promotion or the raise you deserve. We need sponsors.” I recommend Carla’s TED Talk, given at TEDWomen 2018, for more instructions on how to be a sponsor and how to get one.
Today I’m committed to being a mentor and a sponsor for other women as a big part of engaging further with my passion and purpose.
How can you be a great mentor? Or a great mentee? With so much at stake, let me share with you some straightforward, how-to advice from my personal experiences as both.
It’s important to specify when and how often you’re available to meet with your mentee, and your preferred way of connecting (phone, Skype, Zoom, email, in person, etc.). Are you talking about just a few meetings, or a long-term mentoring relationship that could last months or even years? This is a chance to set clear boundaries; it’s all too easy to answer one more email, make one more phone call. If you don’t enforce your boundaries, mentoring can quickly become a time suck that leaves you feeling resentful instead of empowered—and certainly not dangerous.
Juliet Asante was one of the first mentees assigned to me when I agreed to be a mentor in a program launched jointly by Fortune’s Most Powerful Women conference, the Vital Voices Global Partnership, and the State Department. Juliet was a Ghanaian television and film personality who also owned her own production company and wanted to learn more about how to grow her business, which was producing television series targeted at women in West Africa. This seemed like a good match for my background.
The first time we met, Juliet set down in front of me a single-spaced list of names that covered both sides of a sheet of paper. “During our work together, I would like to meet these people in the United States,” she told me. The list started with Obama and ended with Oprah! How could I not love that chutzpah and confidence?
That began what became a two-year official mentoring relationship, with Juliet coming to New York once a month. We’d talk through specific challenges in managing her production company. I also arranged for her to meet with people on her list, walking her through every step so she could make the most of her often-limited time.
I also reached out to each professional connection to give them a heads-up. In some instances, we playacted the meeting; I changed her script if it was either too presumptuous or didn’t indicate a deep enough understanding about this particular person’s scope of experience or responsibilities. We reviewed the background of every person she met, looking for points on which Juliet could personally or professionally connect so that the meeting had a shared value: in other words, the colleague who’d agreed to give up some of her own precious time might also learn something new or gain a new perspective.
Eventually I did arrange for Juliet to meet and spend time with nearly everyone on her list. Yes, even President Obama, when she was invited to a White House event to recognize this special State Department mentoring program. Juliet used her five minutes with our first African American president well, giving him a quick update on Ghana’s presidential election and sharing a quick reflection on how much his first trip there had meant to her and her country. There was no doubt this smart, talented, personally dynamic mentee from Ghana made a positive impression on President Obama.
Oprah was a bigger challenge. We lucked out; Oprah had just established the Oprah Winfrey Leadership Academy for Girls, her school in South Africa, and she was interested in hearing Juliet’s perspective on the school and its mission. They had a productive conversation, although Oprah declined to be interviewed on Juliet’s Ghanaian television program. She did agree to a photograph that Juliet circulated widely on social media, elevating her following for sure.
Relying on my personal contacts, connections, and friends to supplement in areas where my advice is more limited is always a part of my mentoring process. In Juliet’s case, it became an easier decision to connect her with helpful friends and colleagues because I took the time to develop a relationship with Juliet, got a solid sense of her abilities and work ethic, and felt confident that the connection would benefit both parties and that Juliet would treat the introduction with the utmost respect it deserved.
Like me, you’ve probably spent decades building strong relationships with others. These are your gold; protect them. I had to rein in Juliet’s ambitions and expectations once or twice, for example, her request to meet Warren Buffett. Again: you’re allowed to enforce a boundary and say no.
Juliet has just been appointed chair of the National Film and Television Institute, started the successful Black Star Film Festival in Ghana, and I am urging her to use her personal power and influence to enter politics and be a force for needed change.
Check in with yourself before accepting a mentee. Do you have the right skills to help this person, or will you be running yourself ragged trying to find the right answers to her questions? Are you genuinely interested in what your mentee is trying to achieve? If someone looks good on paper but the face-to-face meeting leaves you cold, you’re allowed to say, “I don’t think I’m the right person to help you.” Why waste the mentee’s time with a half-hearted, less connected, or less informed mentorship? Find someone who makes the experience mutually rewarding.
Resist the urge to provide direct advice. Instead, offer supportive advice so that your mentee has the information to make her own decisions, which she’ll then be able to stand by with greater confidence.
Catalina Escobar came through the same State Department/Fortune mentorship program. Catalina had a foundation committed to ending the cycle of violence, unwanted teen pregnancies, and endemic and intergenerational poverty in her home country of Colombia. She’d already served thousands of girls by the time she arrived in my office. She looked like she belonged on the cover of Inc.—wholly professional and beautifully and elegantly dressed—and she was all business.
Catalina wanted specific mentoring on how to raise awareness of the challenges in her country so she could expand her programs to other countries and become a global leader for change. We made a plan to get her a speaking coach so that she could put herself forward at global conferences on women and girls. I took her to conferences, introduced her around, and she began to plan a conference of her own. Catalina named it Women Working for the World. It was successful both as a fundraiser for her Juanfe Foundation and as a global gathering of women; it’s now in its fifth year and has become the standard-bearer for women coming together to share best practices, to form collaborations across country borders, to support women working for a better world, everywhere.
Catalina didn’t need a typical mentor because she’d already created a structure for her foundation, shaped a successful intervention, and proven that her model worked with positive outcomes. What she needed—and this is often the case—was some outside perspectives on how to raise awareness and funding, which I was able to provide.
You will help your mentee more by listening closely and asking questions than by having the answer for everything. I learned this lesson when one mentee turned the tables on me at our meeting. “Could you please ask all the questions instead of me?” she said.
“Why?” I asked, a bit taken aback.
“Because I need to know what questions to ask,” she explained. “I can google the answers.”
I see my job as a mentor as helping my mentee find her own answers! I’ll walk her through the list of questions she’ll need to ask, problems she’ll need to address, people she’ll need to talk to, etc. I want to empower her to have the confidence that she can figure it all out, not spoon-feed her every answer.
Sometimes, mentoring relationships end in frustration. You pour your heart and soul into mentoring someone, and their project doesn’t get off the ground. Or the two of you never gel. Or you hear from others that your mentee overstepped. Or you’re not able to provide enough of what your mentee wants or needs.
It happens. And when it does, try to resist the urge to fix it by plowing more time and effort into it. Instead, be gracious: “I’m so sorry, but I’ve come to the end of what I can offer you.” The more experience I gain as a mentor, the sooner I realize that a particular mentee-mentor relationship isn’t going to be productive or positive and the sooner I can tactfully pull the plug.
It’s important to remember that mentees are not your children and mentors are not therapists. This was the hardest lesson for me because I do tend to fall a bit in love with all my mentees, and I value and sustain personal friendships and connections. But I’ve learned to keep marriages, personal relationships, etc. off-limits unless intricately related to their business or social enterprise. I try above all to be clear about what I have time to do and what I cannot take on.
As a mother and grandmother, I have to resist mothering, because when I don’t, the outcome is a blurring of roles and responsibilities. This hurts my mentee because it degrades her sense of agency and accountability. It hurts me because it takes an emotional toll and eats up a lot of my psychic energy.
Case in point: I mentioned Courtney Martin at the beginning of this chapter. I recently led a discussion with her on inclusive leadership at the Makers Conference, the annual gathering whose mission is to lead the modern feminist movement to bring women together across all walks of life, in all industries, to advance the agenda of achieving true equality. It’s not uncommon for mentors and mentees to become collaborators! I’ve worked with Courtney to curate and host sessions on several TEDWomen conferences, and our StoryCorps conversation about our relationship remains one of the most emotionally satisfying experiences of my life.
Sitting in that small room with a mic between us, sharing what we had meant to each other, tears and laughter flowed along with the memories of times shared, conversations cherished, and differences made in each other’s lives because we came to know each other—first as mentee/mentor, but very quickly and very importantly as friends bound by mutual respect and admiration. This is what good mentoring is all about.
I’m often asked how to find a good mentor, and the good news is that many organizations now offer mentoring opportunities. You can find them by contacting trade organizations, career development offices, and the like.
The women I most like to mentor are those who have put in the hours to achieve a certain level of proficiency in their field. As a mentee, I expect you to have been working in your field for at least a few years—long enough that you have a fairly firm grasp on benchmarks and ultimate goals; you know what you don’t know; and you have a game plan for how you want to get there. You’ve identified the skills and people you need to help you attain your goals.
Before seeking a specific mentor, I suggest a thorough research of who’s the best fit for your needs. You should have enough familiarity with your proposed mentor to know her priorities and existing commitments so that you can shape a reasonable, achievable request.
Some of us mentors have a shared weakness: we want to help! We don’t like saying no because we’ve had so many doors slammed in our faces and we remember all too well what it was like when we were young, hungry, and often lacked our own role models to look up to. That means we can be soft touches. Know that you’re asking someone for precious time from her (probably overcrowded) schedule and full life. Even when you’re asking someone to “take a quick look” at your resume, know that that’s no small thing; that’s an hour out of a life.
When you’re asking for a sustaining mentorship, you’re asking for even more of someone’s precious time over months or years. Time they could be spending growing their own business, or with loved ones, or contributing to a worthy cause, or making money. That’s a big deal. So don’t take advantage.
I remember when networking parties were big. You came laden with business cards and it was a whirlwind of activity as you danced from group to group, meeting other businesspeople, hoping to make useful connections. By the end of the evening, your purse was stuffed with other people’s cards, your face ached from (sometimes forced) smiling, and you left feeling more than a little overwhelmed. Whenever I went to those things, I’d realize after I left that I too often missed what I’d come for: true connection. I wasn’t just there to meet the right people so I could get ahead; I wanted to find others who shared my vision and values. If someone approached me just to get to the people I knew, I knew that, and it was a big turnoff.
In today’s business gatherings, there are fewer business cards. “Just type in your email here,” they say as they hand you their phone. Or “Would you take a selfie and then I’ll text it to you and we’ll be connected!”
I love technology, but honestly, are these really shortcuts or time-savers? Not for me. I’d rather return home with a bag of interesting business cards and enter them thoughtfully into my contacts. For a true social-media lover, I know this is counter revolutionary, but the fact is that I did design my business cards to say something meaningful about me—each one with a carefully selected quote about power on the back. I actually think about which quote to give which person who might ask for one. So for some of us older women, it might be good to give us options for remembering our encounter.
I’ve had several mentees start out by saying, “I want to know everything you know, Pat.” Frankly, that prospect is overwhelming. But I appreciate a mentee identifying very specific things you’re looking for in the mentoring relationship, the approximate amount of time you think you’ll need, and samples of the kinds of questions you need help answering.
It’s a good idea to prepare the agenda before every meeting and confirm which times work best for your mentor, and if your mentor has an assistant who can act as a go-between, all the better to establish that as the logistical point for questions and planning.
Always create an easy way for your prospective mentor to say no. (Again, we women sometimes have the disease to please when it comes to setting boundaries.) “Listen, I know how busy you are. Please don’t feel you need to say yes to this.” “I’m guessing you’re already mentoring several other women. If you ever have any time in your schedule for me, I hope you’ll be in touch.” This level of graciousness and understanding goes a long way, and could turn a no into a yes!
Please appreciate that as much as your mentor wants to help you, she can’t always satisfy every request. If your mentor can’t do something you’ve requested, respect the no. You can ask, “Is there anything you think I should do to be better prepared for the request?”
Mentoring is a voluntary, unpaid position. It’s really important to express gratitude to the person who’s taken her valuable time to show you the ropes. No one’s expecting a big, expensive present, but a thoughtful gesture can mean so much. Maybe take your mentor out for coffee, or buy her flowers or chocolate. I truly treasure the handwritten notes my mentees have sent me; I have a colleague who keeps hers in a box and takes them out to reread them when she’s having a bad day!
I’ll say it again: mentoring is perhaps the single biggest lever for positive change we have as women. I encourage all women—particularly those of us with more time available for changing other lives—to consider mentoring. And I encourage women of all ages to identify those mentors who model something important in your development, personally and professionally, and figure out how to make a mentor-mentee relationship successful.
Mentors and mentees, sponsors, advocates, colleagues, friends—dangerous women working for the world, and for each other.
DANGEROUS TIMES CALL FOR DANGEROUS WOMEN
In Conversation with Meagan Fallone
When I think of playing it forward, of someone doing the work of creating opportunities for learning and empowering women in the Global South and around the world—in particular empowering those with little or no access to education, economic agency, or even equal protections, I think of my friend Meagan Fallone, who is currently the head of Barefoot College International, an institution founded by Bunker Roy in 1972 to meet the needs of illiterate and underserved populations. Today, Barefoot operates programs in rural villages across ninety-six countries. It enables women to prosper and reach their aspirations through technical mastery and the development of their enterprise and critical-thinking skills. Training women to be solar engineers and develop sustainable secondary livelihoods has given more than 2 million people access to skills, clean water, and reliable, clean energy. Meagan has multiplied Barefoot’s impact through extraordinary partnerships while remaining committed to the shared-value principles of Mahatma Gandhi that have always defined the organization: respect, collaboration, equality, and dignity.
I asked Meagan how she became a dangerous woman on her journey from corporate executive to recently being named the 2018 Hillary Laureate for her leadership on climate, justice, poverty, and peace.
How do you feel about being described as a dangerous woman?
Meagan: I’ve taken risks in different ways throughout my life. As a young woman in a corporate environment filled with barriers, I was very determined to break as many of those as I could. For instance I fought for equal pay when I was eight and a half months pregnant in one job because I knew I was being promoted and earning half of what other men were earning!
Later, I was determined not to compromise being a really good mother with still pursuing my own professional dreams and projects. That made my three children strong, resilient, self-reliant, and ultimately, they respect women incredibly. People often criticized the time I invested in my own passions and interests, but my children see those very things as what defines me now.
Was there a time or age when you began to feel more dangerous?
Meagan: I became a mountaineer at thirty-six. I started off-piste skiing—I climbed big mountains and skied truly physically dangerous things—but it never felt dangerous to me because I was operating in my zone of calculated risk, physically and mentally. That is something I think women are particularly great at. Women fund managers and others with very high-risk careers tend to evaluate short-, medium-, and long-term risk; calculate where they can manage on that scale; and then go for it, trusting that if they’re a little off, they’ll adapt and innovate what’s needed.
Right now, I’m taking a totally different type of risk, having walked away from a successful for-profit company that I started and loved very much. I wanted to use my skill set to really make a difference, to address inequity and climate change in real time, helping as many women as possible to find their voice. When we take profit-making away from being our first priority, we can have a much larger impact than we imagine. We push ourselves further to be resourceful, efficient, and resilient. I wanted to challenge myself to develop my human skills to the same degree my formal education had developed my business skills.
How do you respond to the idea that dangerous times such as these call for women to be more daring?
Meagan: I feel more dangerous today, at fifty-six, than I did at twenty-five, because I understand my power now, with my network, with my sisters, whether those are the rural women that I work with across the developing world or women who are also doing incredible things in companies, media, government, and other NGOs. We’re turning a whole community of the least likely women around the world into dangerous women by making them solar engineers. The power of technology gives them unbridled energy, self-confidence, a different role in their communities, and competence to face all the barriers in their life, because behind a piece of technology, you’re gender equal. These women build a solar system and light up every house in their community. Everybody in that community understands they have power, metaphorically and literally. The best way to use power is to give it away to communities.
Becoming more dangerous means letting go of a need to be approved of by everybody around you. You let go of control. There’s a great quote that I love: “Growth demands a temporary loss of security.” When we are feeling least secure, when we’re about to take a huge step, it’s so hard. You’re tired and you want to say, “It’s too much. It’s too hard. Maybe I should just go back.” Maybe you need to retreat a little bit, gather your forces, get your energy again, and then you leap again, and you realize you’re on the other side. You took a huge step.
Becoming dangerous is really, for me, about becoming equally comfortable with moments of great security and confidence, and with moments of great insecurity and self-questioning. Life is this constant flow. It’s like walking in the mountains. There’s always another up, there’s always another down. Those are the sure things in life.