Mentoring Commentary

I consider mentoring a civic duty, a personal responsibility, and a cornerstone of good business.

Why? Mentoring serves two ends: first, it provides crucial insight to young people who need it at the most challenging periods of their lives. It can make the difference between professional success or failure – even between a happy, fulfilled life and one marked by frustration, even despair.

Second, the good mentor will derive even more from an advisory relationship than the mentee. There is nothing more satisfying than helping a young person chart a successful course through life.

With all modesty, I know what I’m talking about on both counts. I take mentoring seriously; it’s as important to me as anything I do in my work or personal life. And there’s a very good reason for that: I’ve been a mentee, and the counseling and advice I received are largely responsible for my success.

One of my first mentors was Bob Duxbury, an English instructor at Santa Rosa Junior College. I was a small-town kid – and frankly, an indifferent student. I was dyslexic, I had ADHD, and the classroom wasn’t my natural milieu. I was good at repartee, however, and I had been able to parlay that talent into passing grades for the most part – until I met Bob.

He was a Fulbright Scholar and a learned man who had a deep and abiding love of literature and the English language, and he called BS on me. He said on more than one occasion, “Darius, you’re not going to talk your way through this class. I’m happy to help you, but you must put in the time and energy.”

Bob kicked my ass – but he also went to great lengths to support me. He answered all my questions, no matter if they were off-topic or even inane, and he patiently took me through the material until I understood it – and more to the point, learned to value it as he did. I had a nascent appreciation of literature before I took Bob’s class, but he fanned the embers until they burst into flame. Bob taught me why literature is important, why it’s foundational to civilization.

I don’t think Bob really understood the impact he had on me until I returned to Sonoma County well into my career and contacted him. Together, we set up a scholarship in his name. I asked him how it should be configured, and who should benefit. He said he wanted to sponsor one or two students a year for extended travel abroad so they could have new experiences and expand their cultural horizons. And that’s what we did: today, the Bob Duxbury Travel Abroad Scholarship provides $5,000 for international study to a student in need. A requirement of the scholarship requires the recipient to meet with Bob post-trip and discuss what they’ve learned.

Another mentor who exerted a tremendous influence on me is Doug Bosco, the former U.S. Congressman representing California’s North Coast. Doug is good friends with my parents, and I was fascinated by his stories of living and working in the nation’s capital. And when I asked him if I could come to Washington and work as his intern he took a beat, then said, “Why not?” That seemingly casual decision established my career. I drove Doug around Washington, performed odd jobs – did anything that needed doing. And all the while, I was watching, listening, and learning. I learned how legislation is negotiated and drafted. I came to understand that politics is often adversarial and always messy, but that it’s a necessary process for a free republic. Doug gave me the eyes and ears to comprehend the world as it is – and made me understand that a single individual can make it better.

There were other mentors who helped me as I climbed the ladder. Phil Angelides, California’s former Treasurer and the state’s 2006 Democratic gubernatorial candidate, taught me about real estate investment and the minutiae of California politics. Ron Burkle, a master in grocery chain acquisitions and mergers, a resolute union supporter, and a prominent Democratic fundraiser, schooled me in finance and art.

All these people – Bob, Doug, Phil, Ron, and many more – provided not just knowledge, but a particular way of looking at things. When I was with them, I constantly asked questions: “Why did you do this? Why did that work? Why did that fail?” Their answers were often oblique, but they collectively confirmed that nothing should be accepted at face value. I learned that every situation and every human interaction is as multi-layered as an onion, and that you must be capable of assessing multiple elements quickly and accurately to understand any deep concept or succeed in any negotiation.

I’m still learning, of course – but I’m also passing on what I’ve learned. I’ve been active in Big Brothers and Big Sisters of America for years, and several of the young people I’ve mentored through this great organization have become close friends. Mark Jennings, whom I met when I was an undergrad at George Washington University, is an example. I counseled Mark when he was in elementary school, and our friendship has grown and deepened over the decades. I was as proud as any parent when he graduated from the Harvard Divinity School, and I’m godfather to his children. He’s one of the most important people in my life.

Finally, I consider teaching the paramount mentoring experience. I’ve taught political leadership both in high schools and at the University of California, Berkeley. I encountered some of the sharpest minds on the planet at Cal. The students were highly opinionated and were quick to confront – but were just as quick to concede a point when they found it convincing and the supporting evidence compelling. They were thirsty for knowledge, and eager to discover real world applications.

We’re facing profound – perhaps unprecedented – challenges in the world today. Like everyone else, I’m anxious. But teaching always gives me hope.  Our young, inquisitive students, our best and brightest, are charged with passion as well as intelligence, and they instinctively seek solutions to the thorniest problems. It’s a privilege to encounter and interact with them – and perhaps contribute, in some small way, to the future they will build.