Old Mentors and Well Used Tools

A federal agent crouches in the corner of a room amidst a murder scene investigation. His boss approaches and asks, “where’s my bullet?”

“Hopefully in this box or the wall behind it. Got your knife on you, boss?

Leroy Jethro Gibbs pulls out his knife and hands  it to Tony while at the same time reminding him, “rule number nine, never go anywhere without a knife.”

That’s how we would like our mentors, handing us tools when needed while giving helpful, clear-cut advice in absolute terms. There have been many times in my life when I needed that type of mentor. Only on a scarce occasion did I get one in a strait forward sense like that. Now I’m the one handing someone a knife.

I used to love the show NCIS. The scene referenced is from 2003, when the show started. That was four years before the release of the iPhone. It's funny to think about how relatively recent that event was. Gibbs was the team leader in the show. He was older than the rest of the team, with the exception of Ducky, the medical director. As time passed, he became that paternal figure from whom everyone wanted approval. As this happened, he acted more in accordance with how actual mentors behave. By administering a public slap upside the head just when you felt you had everything figured out. Embarrassing and painful.

I have found that it is often not an older father figure administering advice but rather a life itself that acts as the slap upside the head timed perfectly with the moment I get too sure of myself. I don’t get handed a knife, but I do develop my own tools that I can choose to take with me from that point forward. Sometimes, like Tony, people will try to borrow my tools. And just like Gibbs, I tell them they need to get their own as I help them anyway.

In writing middle-grade fiction, there is a need for a clearly defined mentor at the right time. Mostly though, it is vital to demonstrate how we take our best shot based on what we know at the time and then clean up the wreckage and try again, this time with a little more earned wisdom.

Mentors are rare, valuable, and seldom recognized for what they are until it’s too late. When we don’t want them, there they are, giving unsolicited advice that gets taken as a slight against our abilities and pride. When we develop the wisdom to listen, they have moved on or have nothing to say. I suppose this is because youthful arrogance and the possibility of others getting hurt trigger this type of advice. By the time we are ready to listen, there isn’t a need.

Like Gibbs handing Tony a knife, mentors give us tools. At times I thought I wanted reassurance or approval. To be told which way to go or if I was on the right track. What I needed was a tool. A way to deal with the things coming up in life. Something I could keep in my pocket and carry with me long after the mentor passed out of my life. I’ve received some painful head slaps along the way but have always found, when I looked, that a gift was there for me after the sting wore off.

Some of these gifts include the realization that I don’t need to judge. I’ve developed a sense of how to anticipate the needs of others. I’ve learned the importance of communication and developed skill in its use. I’ve comprehended the power of gratitude and come to see that the most valuable treasures are fleeting, and only by being present within the moment I exist can these moments of bliss be found.

These were not given to me as one-liner antidotal bits of advice from a silver fox in overalls while we worked on an old Ford. Their real meaning was earned slowly over time, often with some discomfort and sometimes pain.

And now I have an even greater gift. There are people in my life that look at me the way one would a mentor. My approval means much more to them than I know it to be worth. But I have an opportunity to lend some tools. Give some shortcuts. To reassure and congratulate. Some of these people are quite young, and others not so much. But in either case, when I see someone following a path that leads to pain, I can take some time to build a relationship and mentor rather than judge and avoid them.

In the position of the mentor, it becomes clear why they don't shower praise more often on those that want it. It's self-serving. It may be ego gratifying to build someone's dependence on your approval, but that's not what they need. That's not what will serve them when you're no longer there to show them how or tell them what to do. They need the tools for themselves, and helping someone develop independence requires a nudge in the right direction only when necessary. Sometimes it means giving reassurance after everything has already fallen apart. It can mean having the maturity to stay quietly out of the way while someone heavy on confidence and light on humility makes big mistakes.

This may be perceived as cold by the person that just wants to be told exactly what to do and be constantly congratulated for even making an attempt at it, but on the other side, as the mentor, this ability to stay out of the way while someone tries and fails is an act of selfless love. It is a position to be embraced. I highly recommend seeking opportunities to gently guide those who need it, primarily by building a relationship and then living as an example.

The mentor is an archetype. A character that we all know and wish we had more of. While I can’t conjure a mentor, I can be one where needed.

If you would like a mentor just as you imagine, here’s what I suggest. Be very clear about how your mentor would speak to you. Would they be loving yet firm? Patient? Encouraging? Can you imagine what they may say in a few example scenarios that you think you may need them?

Have them clearly in your mind? Good. Now start to speak to yourself in that way. It may be difficult at first, maybe even horribly awkward, but that’s okay. With practice, you will develop a tool.

Why would you claim you want a gentle mentor if you are harsh to yourself in your own head? That's a little hypocritical. Maybe it's because we always want someone else to do the work.

I have found by practicing being a good mentor to myself in my own head, I become much better at instinctively saying more supportive things to those around me. And that's the real benefit, after all. It is quite fulfilling to be exactly the type of mentor we always wished existed, to ourselves and to those in our lives that come for approval and leave with well-used tools.