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Wednesday, November 12, 2014
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.
Friday, October 3, 2014
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 (personalityresearch.org).
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.
http://www.personalityresearch.org/papers/clark.htmlDevol, 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.
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.
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