A Single Mentor is a Blessing to Any Child

Published May 7, 2001, The Post-Tribune

At 2 a.m. on a dank Thursday night last month, standing in a rental car parking lot near O'Hare that reeked of dead earthworms, I surrendered.

My flight home from school arrived seven hours late, and the buses and trains to Indiana were garaged for the night. Having inadvertently learned in ethics class how to make a bribe, I desperately (and unsuccessfully) offered $50 to a rental car clerk to overlook the fact I'm not yet 21.

At last, I called: "Ma, can you pick me up?"

Giving up sleep to drive three hours in the wee hours was just one of many things my parents have done to enable me to satisfy a goal - this particular weekend I had paid to fly home to help organize a YMCA fundraiser.

When I graduate two weeks from today, I must thank not just my parents who have sacrificed for my benefit, but a constellation of friends, mentors and teachers who have pushed me, advised me, confided in me, cajoled me, lent a shoulder in defeat and uncorked the bubbly in victory (that pesky not-yet-21 problem again). These are everyday people who make a strong community.

As soon as I could walk, a steelworker who lived next door named John taught me to plant tomatoes in a garden. In the fall, I stood on a stool stirring a pot to can the tomatoes with his wife, Deb. I'd not heard the expression, but I had learned that one reaps what one sews.

At six, I learned to shovel snow, and after finishing the family's modest driveway, I began work on the neighbor's. To my surprise, I received a warm plate of cookies.

I soon discovered that my neighbors would pay for all sorts of tasks so long as I showed responsibility in meeting my commitments and performed the highest quality work I could.

With my meager savings earning dust in a blue toy safe, my father took me to a stockbroker. Although Don knew he would earn virtually no commission from my pint-sized account, he graciously helped me to understand research reports and prospectuses. On my birthday, I invested my lawn-mowing money in my first mutual fund.

One blustery winter night, a neighbor named Jane saw me shoveling snow in the neighborhood and asked me to shovel her sidewalk. Our relationship evolved into a mentorship, as she wrote my recommendation into business school, guided me into the strategy consulting profession, outsourced her small business's information technology support to me, and helped me select among job offers this fall.

Ruth at the Valparaiso YMCA has been one of the longest running of my mentors. Ruth taught me to swim when mom brought me to YMCA swimming classes when I was a few months old. In 1995, she helped my father and I to organize the first YMCA Ringing in Spring fundraiser, the annual 5K race for which I returned last month.

I also do not wish to overlook my parents' role - how my father nearly cried when he saw my first college tuition bill, how my mother helped me understand why I failed sixth-grade English class.

It does not take a village to raise a child; it takes but a handful of role models for each child, people willing to believe in him, to set a positive example, and to chasten him if he does wrong.

A child of average intelligence who is blessed with mentors - even one - and supportive parents - even one - is much more likely to succeed than a prodigy lacking such guiding influences. A child should not be spoiled, except that he should have as many role models as he can handle.

A sports hero is nary a role model; role models are steelworkers, small business owners and the folk whose involvement in their community makes or breaks the community.

Raising children cannot be abdicated to schools, churches, day care centers or computers. In our actions toward youth, like when we plant and tend a garden of tomatoes, we reap what we sew.

When the Class of 2001 walks across the stage, graduates will walk in spirit with their family and the people who have invested so many years in them. We have many people to credit for enabling our accomplishments.

Reader-columnist Adrian Jones of Valparaiso is a senior economics major at the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania.