The Three C's of Great Mentoring

The other night I went to a fancy business dinner and ran into a long-time mentor of mine. Seeing him for the first time in a couple of years, I started to think about whether he realized the positive impact he had on me, my career and even my family. His advice and actions over the years had been very meaningful to me.  I took him aside for a moment and said thanks.  Thanks for everything.

He was someone I had turned to at key times in my career. When I was stepping into my first real leadership role with difficult personnel decisions, he was there with advice and help. When I was leaving the "nest" of one company to venture off to another, he was there to wish me luck and reassure me. When I was looking to make another career change, he helped open a door and gave me good advice about my life, not just my career.

I've been fortunate to have several special mentors in my career.  People who shaped me, steered me and set me on my path. As I reflect on what the best mentors in my life have given me, the truth is it can be summarized in 3 C's: Counsel, Candor and Confidence.

Counsel

Every good mentor provides you with the counsel, advice and opportunities to grow and develop your skills.  Some of the most valuable mentoring I received came from just sitting across the desk of one of my bosses. I've never read a text book that could really show you the art of media relations -- the trust-building with reporters ... the artful back and forth negotiations ... the anticipation of issues and answers ... the careful choices of words. For several years, my boss would call me up to her office for a call with The Wall Street Journal or The New York Times. Sometimes I might be prepping her with background on the issue, but more often it was just the chance to sit across the desk, listen and learn.

I had another mentor who showed me the ropes when I transitioned to a new company with a very strong and distinct culture. She wasn't in public relations like me -- and to be honest there weren't a whole lot of PR people that she felt were real valuable -- but I was able  to gain her respect and trust with some good writing and strong work ethic. I remember the first time I had to convince one of the company's top executives -- her boss -- to take my advice about a press release. He was not easily convinced about my strategy and it was an early "make or break" moment in our relationship. My mentor took the time to listen to me, advise me on the best way to present myself and make my case to him, and she even put herself in my corner by giving her support.

A mentor's counsel can run from the simple advice about how to edit your latest speech -- "When in doubt, cut your first paragraph and get to the point." -- to the subtle advice on etiquette and corporate culture -- "Let the big executives get on the corporate jet first and then you get on, go to the back of the plane and stay quiet." It's those memorable and meaningful lessons that can make a huge difference in your career -- or at least help you avoid some embarrassing moments.

Candor

The best mentors have the ability to tell you the things others won't.  They care enough to be critics and to provide a candid view of what you need to know.

When I was still relatively young in my career, I was having trouble relating to a peer in our group, something I hadn't run into before. There was friction and tension between us and I just couldn't understand it. My mentor broke it to me, "the naive corporate kid": "Look, not everyone is going to like you, Bill. Not everyone wants to be your friend.  And not everyone is going to be happy about you doing a good job. That's not how it always works.  Figure it out. Deal with it."

Another time, I had decided to buy an electric razor and stop shaving with a blade (this was before today's stubble beards had become fashionable). After a few days, my mentor noticed a bit more of a five o'clock shadow, and she asked me, "What are you doing?" I told her I had gotten a new electric razor, blah, blah, blah. In her direct and subtle style, she said, "Yeah? Well it's not working.  Lose the razor and go shave."  Not everyone will be that candid with you.  Maybe just your mother -- and a good mentor.

Confidence

 And, the last thing a mentor gives you is confidence. They are your greatest champions. They know your strengths -- and weaknesses -- and they still believe in you.

There are times in your career when you might feel like you're not ready for the next job or jump up the career ladder. Or, you run into a boss or situation that turns out not to be the right fit. It's easy to have self-doubt in those situations. You wonder if you are out of your depth. When I was in one of those doldrums, I remember a mentor of mine calling me, giving me a pep talk and she said, 'Whatever you do, don't lose your confidence..." It was like she knew what I needed to hear.

It's at those times that the mentors who know you best can be your rock. They have counseled you over the years and seen you grow and perform. They have spoken candidly with you about where you needed to develop, and they have seen you change. They know your potential, your heart and your talent.  They have all the confidence in the world in you, even when you are doubting yourself.

I've been fortunate to have terrific mentors throughout my career who have helped me on my path. I hope I have thanked them and they know what they have meant to me. And as I get along in my career, I try to share with some other young "corporate kids" the counsel, candor and confidence they have so generously given me.

Leaving a thumbprint on your life

We all meet thousands of people in our lives. Some we encounter in fleeting moments. The man  we bump into while waiting in line for a burger.  The woman we talk to in line at the post office.  The retail person who helps us pick out the right gift for our wife. The contractor who spends weeks in our house painting and putting up walls. Their impressions on us may come and go like dust on a nightstand. Easily noticed, but quickly wiped away.

Other people spend more time in our lives. Family members. Classmates. Neighbors. Co-workers. People we meet on our daily commutes or at favorite watering holes.  These people usually leave more of an impression on us.  More than we may even realize.

The truth is there are many people in our lives who leave their thumbprint on us.  A mark that is there for life, but not noticed until you look for it.  They may have shaped our outlook on life; taught us skills we will always use; or provided comfort at a critical time.  They leave an indelible impression that we don't notice or appreciate until we are prompted to reflect.

This story is about my former co-worker and friend John, who passed away this week, and the thumbprint he left on me.

The Original News Junkie

John was  a newsman.  He spent many of his early years as a reporter and would fondly recount his days working for the United Press International (UPI) wire service to me.  It's where he got his discipline for writing and his passion for the media. He loved the news. Everything about it. John was the original news junkie.

The Original News Junkie

I met John many years after he left the newsroom, when he was a veteran PR guy for AT&T and I was a young pup still finding my way around corporate America.   John was a well-respected and beloved media relations pro and we became good friends when we both worked in the Corporate Media Relations office for AT&T spinoff Lucent Technologies.

When his daughter called me this week to let me know he had passed away, I thought about John and all the little ways he had helped make me who I am because of the man he was to me.  We hadn't talked in over a year, but ironically, the day before he died I was speaking about him to an executive I was coaching.

Here are three quick stories that tell you about John and the thumbprint he left on me.

1) Media Relations is about Relationships, Stupid.

I never saw anyone who was better at building a relationship with a reporter than John.  He was so affable and friendly. He knew reporters' birthdays, their kids' names, their dog's names, where they played golf, favorite sports teams, etc.  He made a connection. He knew that their professional relationship didn't have to be an adversarial one.  He had lived in a newsroom and knew that world -- the editorial pressures, the changing landscape, how to pitch (not spin).  He was a voracious reader and knew more about reporters and outlets than anyone I have met since.  He was someone every journalist respected and trusted.

Princess Telephone

You can do a lot of "good" media relations with a great story to tell, but try having a "no win" story to defend.  For years, John "owned" the AT&T -- and then Lucent -- Consumer Leasing beat.  Even after Lucent sold the business, the buyer contractually obligated us to continue handling the media relations.  The basic consumer leasing news story went something like this -- "Grandma passed away and her kids discovered she had been leasing her telephone from AT&T and its successor companies for 30 years even after law changes, technology and economics made this seem like lunacy.  The kids discover that Grandma spent $25,000 over her lifetime leasing a "Princess" phone that she could have bought for $25 from RadioShack."  Every consumer reporter's dream story.

John had the talking points and background down pat, and he would talk every reporter through it with credibility -- and without sounding like a heartless bastard.  In the best case, he would talk them out of writing a story.  More often than not, we were satisfied if John could just get our statement into the story -- which he usually did.

2) You're a Leader Now, So Sound Like One

John had seen me grow up as a fresh-faced kid from AT&T and so when I first got promoted to lead part of the Corporate Communications team at Lucent, I didn't know how he would react having to report to me.

The first day of the news, John walked into my new office, closed the door and said, "Let's talk."  He knew it was a tricky situation when your mentee now becomes your boss.  We had a candid talk about how things were going to work.  I had so much respect for him and needed his help, his insight, his support.  He respected me, liked me and was proud to see me get my new position.  We agreed to be very candid and open with each other.  And we also agreed that there would be times when I might make a decision that John wouldn't agree with and that would be my call.  If John had an issue, he respected me -- and my position enough -- to talk to me in private.

After my first big staff meeting, John came into my office, closed the door and put a piece of paper on my desk.  It had all these little check marks on it.  He looked at me. I said, "I don't get it, John. What is this?"

"That is how many times you said  'Ya know' and "Uhm' in your staff meeting." These were engrained verbal crutches that I didn't even notice or hear when I was nervously speaking to a crowd. His point was these people look up to you. If you're going to be a leader, then sound like one.

Today, people like to say feedback is a "gift" in some hokey, corporate posterized motto.  But, for John it really was a gift -- and that was how I received it.  After every staff meeting, I would come back to my office and find a piece of paper on my desk.  Fewer and fewer check marks.  It was our secret.  He made me aware of a weakness and held me accountable to work on it. That was a gift.

3) You have a job to do.  Be a professional

At one time, John and I worked for an amazing woman, Jane, whom we loved.  One day, quite surprisingly, Jane passed away .  We had literally seen her one day, and the next morning we came in to be told she had passed away over night.  It was a complete shock to the whole team.

John was a very dignified man and walked out of the room where we were told the news, and he went quietly back to his office. I went to his office to see how he was doing.

John was sitting at his computer, pounding the keys like it was an old typewriter from his UPI stringer days.  He was writing Jane's obituary and press release.  The message was clear, "This is horrible news, but we're professionals and we have a job to do for Jane and the company."  I pulled up a chair and sat with John as we worked on the obit.  John was the consummate pro.

What impressions will you leave?

Lots of people pass through our lives every day -- and we pass through theirs.  I hope I am leaving some good impressions, some lasting, positive thumbprints on others, the same way John did for me.