Friday, December 12, 2014

Home, not Homeless, for the Holidays


Many of our mentees spend the Holidays alone. Family connections are often times frayed and friends are inconsistent at best. For some of our mentees, this will be their first Christmas in years not spent either on the streets or behind bars.

This is true for one of our Craine House mentees, Shy (not real name). I recently met Shy during one of our Trusted Mentors Recognition Night events when she accepted an award from her mentor, Mary. Shy confidently took the microphone from her mentor’s hands and launched into a heartfelt message of gratitude. “Mary sees me for me. She doesn’t see me as a number, as a criminal, as an ex-offender. She sees me for who I truly am.” Shy so eloquently verbalized the value of the mentoring relationship that I quickly tracked her down after the event to ask for an interview.

I met Shy a week later at her then home, the Craine House. The Craine House is one of our agency partners that provides a secure and structured environment where women serve their sentences for non-violent felonies. It offers a unique and positive environment in which preschool children may live with their mothers.

At 27, Shy has lived many lives, and has the wisdom to show for it. She’s birthed two children, spent years incarcerated in state prisons and has moved from a tiny rural town to a bustling urban community.

In exactly seven days, Shy will begin a new chapter of her life. She will move into an apartment, along with her two kids, while maintaining the job she’s held while living at the Craine House. “I’m mostly nervous about how my children (ages five and eight) are going to react.” Since they were ages five and two, her children have been raised back in her small rural hometown by their grandmother.

When asked how having a mentor has helped her to stay positive and focused while in the Craine House, Shy spoke of the enduring value of friendship. “At first, I mostly wanted a mentor to get out in the community.”  It didn’t take long for Shy and Mary’s mentoring relationship to blossom. “I love having Mary in my life. She’s not like a counselor or case manager. She shares her life with me. She’s a true friend. It’s great knowing you have someone you can trust and have freedom to be yourself with.”  

Mary and Shy have indeed explored the community. Shy shared a story about a special outing that Margo planned as a surprise for her mentee. Shy shared, “Mary doesn’t like the outdoors, but she knows  I do.” Mary planned a day hike around the IMA’s 100 Acres Woods one sunny fall day. Shy says that Mary was out of her comfort zone: “She hates nature and bugs… She planned this outing because she knew it was something I’d enjoy. That meant a lot.”

As Shy makes the transition from the Craine House to self-sufficiency, she is thankful to have her Trusted Mentor, Mary, as a support and friend along the way. Shy knows that she’s not alone on this journey. We are thankful that this Christmas will truly be a bright one for Shy and her family. We are thankful for Mary and all the mentors who make a difference.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

You can shop on Amazon and support Trusted Mentors

Make the switch to Amazon Smile, which allows YOU to shop while AMAZON give a percentage of your purchase back to us! Amazon will donate 0.5% of the price of your eligible AmazonSmile purchases to Trusted Mentors whenever you shop on AmazonSmile. AmazonSmile is the same Amazon you know, and an easy way to give back. You'll be able to access the same products, same prices, and same service as always. Support Trusted Mentors with your Amazon purchases at! 

Friday, October 10, 2014

Mentor Musings-A Coming of Age story as one mentor comes to terms with her role in "world changing" or not...

Guest Blogger, Erin Aquino

After meeting with Erin for an hour at Yat’s for her mentor interview, I asked her to kindly share her story by being a guest blogger for the month of October. I think you’ll enjoy hearing about her life, her adventures, and her “lessons learned” from being in AmeriCorps, the PeaceCorps, and now a Trusted Mentor. Welcome Erin to Trusted Mentors!

I am about to become an official Trusted Mentor, and I want to be honest and straightforward right off the bat-- I am not here to change the world. And neither should you be.

If you looked at my resume’, you might think I was lying to you: AmeriCorps, Peace Corps, ESL Tutor, Refugee Youth Mentor, and the list goes on in an almost embarrassing volunteer, superbly hippy-like manner. It may seem like I’m trying to change the world- and make it a better place, a more peaceful place. I am not.

Again, I am not here to change this world. And if I were to really think I could, I never would. Here are some examples of how I came to this seemingly despairing point of view.

1. My parents taught me so.

I was born and raised on an organic vegetable farm. My parents were the only organic vegetable farmers in probably all of Indiana, and nearly the Midwest. They farmed organically long before farming organically was cool. I guess you could call them the “hipsters” of the agriculture scene. So, like anybody that does something against the grain, they fought hard to prove that “being green” is beneficial to our bodies and our environment. Some people even believed organic foods were more likely to kill people!  The core belief behind their growing dictated they could not change the world-in this case, the world representing nature. They could not manipulate and make Mother Nature better. Rather, they wanted to work with it.

A quick example is the potato beetle. For years, this beetle ravaged our crops. They could have used a quick-acting pesticide, but instead they picked and killed those beetles by hand. But they made sure to leave all natural predators such as the soldier beetle. Several years later, the population of potato beetles balanced out. Good bugs AND bad bugs. They built a relationship with nature, and made themselves stronger farmers with stronger soil and plants in order to withstand her furies, and always be able to enjoy her pleasantries. My parents did not try to manipulate nature but work with it to create a balance. This philosophy played a large role in my outlook on the world. I can’t change it, but I can work with it.

2. Idealism failed.

First, I thought college represented intellectualism and activism- putting our cerebral capacities to work and solve the world’s most horrendous human rights abuses. However, many students found their peace in red cups and football games. Theatre, Anthropology, and Peace Studies rolled up into one stressed-out, fed-up Butler University Student. (That would be me.) Human rights classes, social activist theatre pieces, and studies abroad in India, South Africa, and Russia helped to develop my keen eye for injustice and a stronger desire to change the world. However, change kept coming up short.

I decided to dedicate a year of service to underprivileged youth on the south side of Chicago. Again, idealistically, I believed only the selfless would work for AmeriCorps and our presence, obviously the sum greater that its parts, would create drastic change in these young lives. Well, my objective Anthropology courses and continual idealistic failures finally started to kick in-I cannot change the world, and neither can anybody else.

Inspired by my co-team leader and her simple brilliancy, I truly understood my White Savior Complex. Co-Team Leader being an African-American woman, she called out my pity feelings and sad thoughts for our students and the societal abuses they endured. The responsibility lay in my hands. And those young students had their own responsibilities. My AmeriCorps team held their responsibility, too. I could not make them better workers or more understanding white people. Similarly, I could not make my students avoid a life of violence. I could, however, control my behavior and reactions to the people and life around me. I could be a friend. An equal. I could not feel sorry for others, believing- innately, implicitly, secretly- I was better somehow.

So, I tried it out some more in other volunteering venues. I mentored refugee youth sisters and tutored adult ESL students. These one-on-one meetings created a world of equality between teacher/student and mentor/mentee not previously understood. I got rid of end goals, better worlds, and concrete successes. I exchanged it for giggly moments, shared meals, and honest conversation. I exchanged changing the world for making friends.

3. One stubborn woman.

Peace Corps! Funny thing about the Peace Corps- most people believe it the essence of world changing. How wrong they are! Any volunteer who believed such madness hated their service.

Luckily, my previous mistakes equipped me with the power to not care about changing the world. For a good six to eight months, in my small, non-electric rural community, I hung out. Chilled. Learned a new language, participated in many dance parties, and met new people-mainly by eating their food, drinking their tea, and taking naps at their houses. Turns out, not changing the world made that stressed-out Butler student float right away.

Through this process, I made a habit of building very strong relationships; one of the strongest was with my host mother, Jeynaba Lo. She took care of me like I was one of her own. In fact, she continues to tell me I am one of her children, and always will be. This woman is tough. I am talking cement, steel, and platinum all combined together tough. She barely reaches five feet, over fifty years old (life expectancy at fifty-nine), and she could grab my fifty-pound pack and haul it on her head through an entire flood plain. She don’t play. Tough.

But, let me be clear: this woman, and this village, suffered daily.  Every month I went to a funeral. Babies died from hunger. Jeynaba suffered immense loss as her brothers and friends passed away too young for many U.S. citizens to fathom. Jeynaba struggled every day to make sure rice filled the lunch AND dinner bowls. Jeynaba ran a household of men, one of whom, her son, would beat his wife if Jeynaba left the house. I’m ranting. But I am talking about real-life problems. Things that should make you feel sorry for people, and then want to change the world.

But I never felt sorry for her. Nope. Not for a second. I worked with her on most projects I executed in the community. We worked in the fields together every week. She taught me how to plant sweet potato, how to harvest hibiscus, and the best way to eat a fresh watermelon-by shoving your face in it, obviously. After eight months or so, I began to teach her some things-improved spacing, composting, and soil amendments. These teachings were simple conversations, an honest exchange of ideas. Months later, I discovered Jeynaba conducted her own test plot of techniques we discussed. She witnessed their success first-hand. She was thrilled-due to her relief that she was not wasting her time on some crazy white girl. That I might have a thing or two in my stringy-haired head.

Life continued. We ate more rice. Worked more fields. Exchanged more ideas. One moment stands out in particular. We were working in her field, and I believe we were arguing over spacing of trees. I had my reasoning, she had hers. She got crazy frustrated, and called me stubborn. I paused, in shock and awe, and called her stubborn right back. She said, “Well, I guess that’s finished.” We laughed so hard as we took the long walk back to our huts. Just two stubborn women trying to make some crops grow and fill those rice bowls.

Jeynaba’s stubbornness paid off. She convinced the entire women’s garden to discontinue the use of chemical fertilizer. She got nasty about it too, doing the “I told you so’s” every time a woman experienced bad crop production. A year and half into my service, I had farmers from other villages coming to ask me questions about their crops, seeking advice. I would give my five to ten minute lecture. Then, Jeynaba would step in and hold an hour-long conversation with the newcomer. I was no longer useful. Doubtful if I ever really was.

Jeynaba owned her knowledge. She owned her change and her community’s change. I owned none of that. I owned Jeynaba’s friendship and deep love and she certainly owns mine. We worked together. I did not solve the rampant hunger in that community. But I know my world, and Jeynaba’s worlds were drastically altered due to our relationship and our mutual stubbornness.

Being a Trusted Mentor

I am back in the United States. I finally have a job that pays me some money to do the work I have been doing for years. Alas, social work in the United States is no Peace Corps. We must meet numbers, and work with too many people with a sincere lack of resources. I do my best to build relationships and to create grounds of equality with my clients and myself. I sought Trusted Mentors to help build that strong connection I uncovered in Senegal, here on my own turf. 

An individual cannot teach another without mutual learning, respect, and partnership. We work to build each other up, not to lower our hands and lift others up. I cannot change the world. But I can be a friend, a loved one who loves others. True mentorship, for me, is mutual. Only then, can we start to mitigate the wrongs we so often see in our world.


Wednesday, August 6, 2014

What is your personality type and why does it matter in mentoring?

After attending a recent mentor coffee and listening to the other mentors discuss their challenges with mentoring, I had a brainstorm that I immediately shared with Shelley. She asked me to delve a little deeper in order to share my thoughts in this months’ blog. Enjoy!
In both my personal and professional life, I’ve worked with personality and strengths-finder testing instruments. I’ve come to understand that our personalities as mentors and mentees can shape what we expect or want out of the mentoring relationship.  For example, I suspect that those who want to focus on setting and reaching goals have a highly “conscientious and scheduling” personality (i.e. goal-oriented), whereas a person who has “low conscientiousness”, but has a highly “agreeable and intellectually or artistically inclined personality” style (i.e relational) will be more interested in understanding, connecting, and learning about the other person in the relationship. What a mentor defines as a healthy mentor-mentee relationship may be different from how the mentee defines it based on their different personality types. Mentors and mentees may want to learn about each other’s personalities to reach a deeper level of understanding. Some of the following ideas illustrate this point.

·         “People don’t care what you know until they know that you care.” –John Maxwell.  As mentors, we know it’s important to build trust in the relationship. For some people, trust comes from getting to know the other person as a friend, and for other people trust comes from staying true to your commitments: we don’t know how the other person views trust or the mentor-mentee relationship until the relationship unfolds.

·         Mentorship doesn’t always come in a formal goal setting environment. When I transitioned from growing up in a poor neighborhood to going to college working as a research assistant at a university, I learned a lot of things about life, culture, and society just by hanging out and talking with co-workers. Simply spending time with these individuals helped me to grow and transition.

·         Research shows that having a good and positive relationship with someone can dramatically boost our mood and self-esteem (  It has also become apparent that when a person gets lifted out of generational poverty, they almost always have a key person in their life who encouraged them (Devol, Payne, & Dressui Smith, 2006).

·         When mentors and mentees understand each other and communicate, they will discover what the other person thinks the relationship should look like. But, it is important for people who have a "goal-setting" personality to realize that even when a session doesn’t involve the exact discussion of goals, as a mentor you may be helping the mentee more than you realize by just being a listening friend.  You are learning valuable mentoring lessons from each other just by observing and learning by example from the behaviors, language and world-view of the other person during casual friendship conversations.

Patrick Monahan is an Associate Professor at Indiana University and is a Trusted Mentor.

Devol, P., Payne, R. and Dreussi Smith, T. (2006) Bridges out of Poverty: Strategies for Professionals and Communities. USA: aha! Process, Inc.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Mentoring homeless young adults, one mentor's musings.


Like many others, I entered Trusted Mentors eager to make a change, build relationships, and be a positive support system in someone else’s life.  The time between my initial training and match was about the span of six months. During this time I pondered how I would be making a difference once I connected with my mentee, and how all would flow from there. I had anticipated some difficulty, but had not deeply considered the roadblocks and challenges that I would soon face.


I remember it like it was yesterday; it was, in fact, the night before Thanksgiving of 2013 when I was introduced to my mentee. We met at a quaint coffee shop with our Mentor Match Manager present, and immediately hit it off after a few minutes. She said I was not what she expected and I smiled, hoping this was a good thing. We talked briefly about our similarities and sparked up a strong connection about a common passion we shared. She was, to me, a bright soul bursting with potential and from the very first day I was excited about building our relationship. We exchanged phone numbers and made arrangements to meet the following week.


At our first meeting together we sat in a quiet space and as we began to continue the journey of getting to know each other, she revealed more about herself to me. She also asked that I do the same, and I obliged. As I am usually a private person, I felt happy to reveal myself to her in order to start building a connection and hopefully earn her trust. I was in awe of her ability to be open, inquisitive, and optimistic. I thought that, for a young woman, she had such wisdom. We smiled and laughed as we sat sharing with each other our thoughts, our lives, and our struggles. I encouraged her and also gave her my full support, letting her know that I was there to help her through this journey and would be happy to do whatever I could.  She acquiesced and we had made a plan to meet again the next week.


The next week came and I was excited about our meeting, I could hardly wait. We had bonded almost instantly, and got off to a rocket start. I had in mind things I would do to enrich our meetings, books I could give her, movies I would recommend, and places we could go for a shared learning experience. I was disappointed when I was unable to meet with her that week, but we had confirmed that we would speak again soon.


Many phone calls later I finally reached her. Disheartened by our misses, I asked that she make an attempt to touch base with me once a week, and she consented. When this did not happen I began to feel more disheartened. I could not understand why, if we had such a good connection and had what felt like the perfect match, she was not more eager to sustain our bond and utilize my offering of support.


This was the beginning of challenges as our conversations became infrequent. We had a meeting one chilly evening at a coffee shop where we outlined her goals, and both wrote down what we wanted from our relationship. We then both signed this paper as an agreement that we would honor. It did not take long before she could not keep up her end of the bargain. Frustrated, I crouched in doubt and cynicism, which is a default emotion for me when I cannot figure something out to my liking. I began to slowly close off myself to the possibility that this would be a success story or bloom into anything substantial. I had tried to help and was turned away; my attempts to make a difference felt futile.


I received news the following month that my mentee had been hospitalized. It was then I realized that there were bigger issues and challenges that I had not completely taken into factor. I had always considered myself to be versed in the area of trouble, having gone through some devastating emotional tribulations, but there were other things that I could not know, like what it felt like to be physically homeless, or to grow up watching a parent being abused, or being abandoned by your caretakers.  


This sweet girl had gone through so much of that, had seen so much in her life that she had not even the space to process it all. She had been abused and frightened, and had learned how to do what most of us do to survive, and that is to shut down our insides. The people and systems of support she had needed to trust had let her down when she needed them the most. There were all sorts of social, emotional, mental and spiritual challenges that I had not fathomed that she was still working through.  Trust was not something that was easily available to her in her vocabulary of being.


And it dawned on me. Who was I then to think that I could come in parading my abilities, my save-the-world ideals, and think that I deserved to be trusted. I had, in fact, not earned her trust and though I had tried, it was not going to be as easy as I thought.  What it took for me then was a paradigm shift and a commitment. I had to realize that if I was to earn her trust, I had to demonstrate that her trust was worth earning. I had to be patient, open, and willing.


Change is not easy, and any of us who have challenged an addiction, a habit, or sought to change something at the core of our lives know how difficult this can be, and how between relapse and resolve we have to learn self-compassion and patience. This is an art, which if we master in ourselves will help us to do that for others. But in truth, many of us have not, we are somewhere in the middle, learning how to have compassion with ourselves and with others too.  It is a great balancing act. This, however, in true perspective can give us more grace as mentors, as fallible human beings who are reaching out to help another fallible human being because, though we may not comprehend all of their pain, we know what it is like to hurt and to cry and make mistakes. We are all living yet another day in the one-day-at-a-time program of life.


To date, my contact with my mentee is gradually coming along and that is enough for me.  I have pillared myself in the process, to be here whenever she needs me, as long as I am able, without having to dictate when that need may be.


I am willing to wait and to be hopeful.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Mentor Musings, with Second Helpings

Thanks to Janet (not real name) for sharing her story of mentoring a Second Helpings’ mentee.

When I first began mentoring, I didn’t quite know how to support my mentee. She seemed to have all the help she required. She was doing well in school, and staying busy with her family and friends. I didn’t see or hear from her much because of her busy life. I thought she was on the right track. Did she really need me?? I was lucky to be matched with such a creative, smart, caring woman, but I was having problems reaching out to her.  She did want to have a mentor in her life; I just needed to give her enough time to trust me and share her problems and struggles.

When we met during the first few months of our relationship, we had easy conversation about our day-to-day lives. She talked quite a bit about her past, explaining why she was in her current situation. I tried to not question her too much; I genuinely enjoyed listening to her story (she has a great sense of humor too).  I was learning about her complex life a little bit at a time, which was fine with me. I wanted to be a part of her support system, yet I still questioned exactly how I was going to do that.

Each time we got together (usually at a coffee shop with baked goods!), she shared something new about herself. I was beginning to see how I may “fit in” with her busy life. I had an “aha” moment when I realized how I could have a positive influence on her life. I’m someone who offers her a different perspective; she listens to my opinions and ideas. I realize she may be sharing some thoughts and concerns mainly with me; I’m a “safe” person for her to bounce ideas off of. I also give her a reason to “get out” and explore. Really, I feel I’m there to listen more than anything. 

I’m thankful that I’m here to support her when the time is right. I am here to encourage her creative mind and listen to her ideas. I hear about struggles she may not share with others. I learn more about myself by being her mentor. We have a place in each other’s lives.

Friday, March 21, 2014

Reflections from a New Mentor

If I had been asked to mentor six months ago, I would have definitely been interested but probably would have declined, thinking it wouldn’t realistically fit into my busy schedule.    Between work and school I feel I barely have time for my important “me” time. However, I know that when I find something I truly want to do, I manage to find the time.  Yes, I want to help others and make this world a better place.  But building a relationship is not a task to draw a line through once accomplished.  I hadn’t anticipated how much mentoring would impact me.


In January, I started a one semester internship at Trusted Mentors as part of earning my masters in social work.  After a couple months connecting mentors and mentees, I knew I wanted to become involved more than professionally.  About a month ago I expressed my interest in becoming a volunteer mentor.  I had a general understanding of what that involved.  As Trusted Mentors works with individuals who are at risk of homelessness, I imagined applying mentoring in this context.


I admit, the idea of mentoring made me assess my knowledge of homelessness, and frankly, I found myself feeling a little insecure.  Though I feel stable and accomplished and therefore able to be a role model--what did I know about overcoming homelessness or poverty?  It is one thing to experience the stress of possible poverty, but quite another to actually experience it. Before my anxiety increased too much, I was quickly calmed by the Trusted Mentors staff who reassured me that the most important part of mentoring is building a healthy relationship.


What does a healthy relationship look like-- stable, trusting, accepting, supportive.  My mentee described a mentor as “someone I can be open and honest with, without any judgment.”  And I could help her reach her goals through “support… and be[ing] nice.”  I love my mentee’s answers and they gave me confidence that I can provide the support she needs.  


Having experienced prejudice and discrimination myself, I can relate to not wanting to be judged.  Mentoring started me thinking about what we each need, and supportive, positive relationships are a need I think we often don’t think about.  How often do we ask ourselves, “What healthy relationships do I have in my life?”  My appreciation for healthy relationships has greatly increased as I interact with individuals who have little or no support.  


As an intern, I am genuinely giddy to hear mentees benefiting from the mentoring process. I have not been matched very long, but I have thoroughly enjoyed learning more about my mentee.  I see strengths and beautiful qualities in my mentee, which she doesn’t yet realize.  I am witnessing how a healthy relationship can help her view herself and her future more positively.  I feel myself learning and growing in bounds as my perspective broadens. I am deeply touched by her trust and vulnerability when she confides in me.  I look forward to our friendship growing over the following year and longer.

If you enjoy volunteering, I highly recommend giving mentoring a chance!


Marea Kinney is a Graduate Student Intern with Trusted Mentors through the IUPUI School of Social Work.


Friday, February 14, 2014

Serving the Homeless along with the 100,000 Homes Initiative

Recently, the 100,000 Homes Initiative was adopted by Indianapolis and Trusted Mentors quickly jumped on board as a key partner. Our city is a proud participant in this national effort to house our most vulnerable homeless neighbors.

Every Tuesday, we attend a housing committee meeting at the Horizon House with multiple 1000,000  Homes partnering agencies serving the homeless population in our city. Every week, we hear the names and stories of chronically homeless men and women who now are being given the opportunity to move into an apartment of their own.  What a great feeling it is to be a part of this national movement to move people out of homelessness!

Although our city has experienced success moving many of our homeless from streets and shelters into housing, we are seeing that the transition for many is proving to be a difficult one.  The skills needed to help an individual survive on the streets are different from the skills needed to remain housed and/or employed. Developing new skills, such as time management, budgeting and being a good neighbor takes practice. These newly housed men and women need guidance and support as they deal with spiritual, emotional and social issues to include isolation and low self esteem.

The local 100,000 Homes Initiative views Trusted Mentors as a vital partner in combating homelessness because mentors help their mentees develop these new skills. Through a mentoring relationship, mentors help their formerly homeless mentees build social capital by helping them to form connections and to become integrated back into the community.

Take B.W.’s story of a “typical” mentee referral for Trusted Mentors. B.W. was referred to us by the Horizon Houses’ Pedigo Clinic. B.W. is a 53 year-old chronically homeless male with both mental and physical illness.  When my intern and I sat down and spoke with him for an hour last week, we received an ear full about where B.W. sees his future going once he’s housed. B.W. has multiple interests to include a love for animals and a skill set in home rehab. B.W.’s primary goal is to give back to his local community as a volunteer and he sees a mentor as someone who can help him make these connections.

B.W. shared that depression and isolation have been a real issue for him since he lost his parents in 2011. He’s never been married and doesn’t have any children. He says that he doesn’t make friends easily, especially since he’s been in recovery and has stopped hanging around friends who use. B.W. is looking forward to developing a friendship with a mentor to improve his quality of life.

Since joining our local 100,000 homes initiative, Trusted Mentors has seen our homeless prevention mentee referrals almost double. Trusted Mentors and 100,000 homes believe that mentoring matters. If you’re interested in becoming a volunteer mentor, please email me at and visit our website at For more info on the national 100,000 Homes effort, visit these links.  at  and

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

The Difference a Mentor Makes

I recently checked in with a friend of mine whose uncle was released from prison about a year ago up in Michigan. She told me that he was on a positive track as he’d managed to secure both housing and work and was setting long term goals. Just four days before he was planning to take a bus out to California to live with family and to pursue higher education, he reoffended and was rearrested. His hopes for the future are again deferred.

I asked about her uncle’s support system.  She said he had no one. After spending twenty years in prison, he had no friends, and very little family to help him stay on track, stay focused, and stay encouraged. She said, “He could have used a mentor.”

Contrast my friend’s story with a couple of our Trusted Mentors’ mentees. Both mentees are re-entering our community from the prison system. Both men have high hopes for their futures. Both men recognize the benefits of having a mentor.

Joe is starting his life anew here in Indianapolis. He’s not originally from here; he came to a city where he knew very few people and had next to no support. Joe states that a benefit of having a mentor has been having a friend in a “foreign land” to help navigate a new city. “Aaron has helped me find an apartment, given me advice on money management and helped me while I was looking for a job.”

Joe shares that the best part of having a mentor is “knowing there is someone that I can always talk to about anything. Aaron doesn’t judge me and he listens to what I have to say. Most of all, he is very encouraging and always has a positive attitude.” Joe knows that he’s not alone as he surmounts the many challenges that lie ahead.  He says that Aaron’s positive attitude is contagious and has aided in boosting his self esteem, even as he hits road bumps. 

At age 49, Lavert too is transitioning into a new phase of his life. His mentor, Andy, has helped him move into a stressful workforce and has assisted with housing and other goals. Similar to Joe, Lavert states that having a mentor is a positive for him as “it helps me when I have someone to share what’s on my mind…no matter what it is.”

It’s common for mentees coming out of homelessness or re-entering society after incarceration to become overwhelmed and discouraged. The reality of re-entry presents with a myriad of obstacles including: institutionalization, lack of education/ job training, lack of housing and stigmatization. The most poignant thing that Lavert shared with me about his mentor Andy is this: “Best of all, he (Andy) gives me hope even when I can’t see it.” Hope out of hopelessness—I hear this time and time again from our mentees and the sentiment is felt as these “ex-felons” open themselves up to restorative relationships with a Trusted Mentor.  

Who knows if the difference between the successes of our mentees versus the uncle’s demise was having a mentor? We do know that having a mentor makes a difference.  Trusted Mentors reports that 89 percent of our re-entry mentees remain out of the prison system once they’ve been matched with a mentor. If you’re interested in mentoring for 2014, please visit our website at and click volunteer!