An old college friend reached out to me not too long ago and asked me if I had any tips to share on getting a mentor. And the first thing I responded with is: “Don’t ask people to be your mentor. In fact, don’t even mention the word mentorship.”
You see, mentorship is a loaded word. It comes with baggage. Centuries of it. Hell, millennia of it. And apparently, dating as far back as 3,000 years ago to Homer’s Odyssey. Mentorship comes with an expectation of commitment. While that amount of commitment differs per person, a mentorship ask from a stranger is an amorphous expectation of time and energy from a busy person who likely has a laundry list of other priorities. Without any precedence or context, it’s hard to make that decision with asymmetric information.
The best pairs of mentorship have always been a two-way street. It takes two to tango. If we were to take the equation of a line:
y = mx + b
… a mentee wants a mentor whose current b, or position and experience level in time, is greater than their own. A mentor wants a mentee whose m (rate of learning, iteration, and hustle) is as great or greater than their own. The bet is that at some point in the future, at least in my experience, mentors would like to learn from their mentees as well, and/or see it paid forward.
Yet, I see so many mentees out there who discount their own value in the relationship. One of my mentors shared with me a few years ago that the older you are, the younger your mentors should be. And I’ve carried that in my heart ever since. More recently, I found that line in the form of a tweet from Samir Kaji.
I can’t claim to have mentored tons of folks, but I also realize both from anecdotal experience and talking with my mentors that the best thing about mentorship is the feedback. That the mentors learn about the result of their advice as an opportunity to finetune their own learnings.
Take for example, my office hours. Of the hundred or so people I’ve met through open office hours, I’ve probably shared the same piece of advice at most five times. It gets even more interesting when you consider that the vast majority of people I’ve met via office hours come for fundraising advice. Somewhere in the ballpark of 80% of people. While there are similar thematic questions I ask people to consider, the best advice is tailored to every unique situation. That said, my advice, like any others’, starts as a product of my own anecdotal experience. A sample size of one. And as we learned in Stats 1 in high school or college, that’s a poor sample size. So, one of the best ways for me to refine my own learnings is either:
- Act on it again and again. But there are some things in life I can’t do again. For instance, high school or freshman year of college or my first job. Those are experiences entombed in amber that unless I had a time machine, they’re one and done.
- Learn how other people execute on that advice and what resulted of it.
One of the many joys of writing this blog is that every so often a kind reader reaches out to me and shares the results of them implementing the thoughts I’ve shared here. Then they let me know I’m either full of s**t or I drastically helped them grow. And I love both forms of feedback equally as much. After all, it’s the rate of compounded learning that helps me mature — even if it’s outside of my own anecdotal experience. Feedback and learning of others’ results gives me a sample size greater than one. The same is true for other mentors, advisors, and investors out there.
So, what does that mean tactically?
Start with the ask.
There’s a metaphorical saying in the world of venture that investors invest in lines, not dots. They want to see progression rather than stagnation. So in reaching out to anyone you’d want to learn from, don’t lead with “Can I have 30 minutes of your time?” Instead, lead with a question. Why are you reaching out? What question can only they answer?
So, that means, “should I get an MBA?” is not a good question to ask. It’s generic, doesn’t contextualize the question, and you can figure out how to do so on the internet. On the flip side, a better question would be: “I saw that you graduated from Wharton before breaking into VC. So I’m curious, did you always know you wanted to be in VC, or was that something you discovered in B-school? And what experiences did you gain in B-school that set you up for VC?”
Moreover, show you’ve spent time in the idea maze before proposing the question to the person you want to learn from. “I’ve read about X and Y, and have thought about or tried A and B already with these results. But the question still gnaws at me.”
Why does this contextualization matter? One, it gives that person context to better answer your question. Two, the last thing any person giving advice wants is for their advice to dissipate into the cosmos. For their advice to go to naught. And if you show that you’ve spend blood, sweat and tears already pondering the problem, then you’re more likely to take their advice seriously. In effect, their advice will be a lot more meaningful. And, chances are you’re going to be a lot less whimsical than the average person asking for their time. Use someone’s time in a way that won’t feel wasted.
Follow up even if they ghost you.
If they respond the first time, great. And if not, don’t give up until you’ve sent at least three emails. If they don’t respond the first time, they just might not have seen it. If they don’t respond after the ninth email, they’re just not interested.
And with each email follow up, tell them when you plan to follow up since you assume they’re busy. “If you’re too busy, I completely understand and I’ll follow up in two weeks.” On the last email if no response, thank them for their time and wish them well.
Don’t set recurring meetings (initially).
First of all, it’s a heavy ask to anyone — stranger or not. Second of all, there’s no promise that their time (and your time) won’t be wasted. Third, do you even have that much to ask about? Most of the time, you don’t. What you think you want and what you actually need are usually very different. It’s an iterative process.
Instead, start with a single question. Ask it. If they’re free for a meeting, set 20 minutes (here‘s why I like 20, instead of 30). If not, get their thoughts asynchronously. Get advice. Act on the advice (or not, but be intentional if not). The most important part is to share your results with the origin of that advice.
So, when you close out that initial meeting, ask if you can reach out to them 24 or 48 hours later after you’ve had time to mull on it or act on it. Timeframe will vary. And if you do follow up shortly after without results, limit any additional ask to 1-2 questions, max. Ideally it should take them 2-3 minutes to respond to. For any advice that takes a longer feedback loop, set a time in the future (two weeks, a month, 2 months, etc.) later to reach back out to share your learnings. And sometimes, that means you didn’t implement their advice. Why not? What did you learn from doing the counterfactual?
When you reach back out to share your learnings, see if you can jump on another 20 minute call, or shorter. And get their thoughts on the facts. Possibly get more advice. And do that again and again. Until at some point — my litmus test is usually 3-4 of these discrete exchanges, in no particular frequency —, I ask if we can get something recurring on the calendar. Nothing long. Stick to 20 minutes. And set an end date for the recurring nature. I usually do 4-5 times as the first run through.
At the end of those recurring meetings, be honest and mutually evaluate: Was it a good use of everyone’s time? If not, end it, but reach back out periodically to share your thanks, especially around the holiday season. If it does work, set another set of recurring meetings and reevaluate again in X time. And voila, you have yourself a mentor (in the traditional sense).
One more note on this… if that person is extremely busy and you know they are, sometimes a more personal touch to the email is recording a Loom and asking your question in front of a camera to that person in particular. For any Loom video, I wouldn’t go over a minute of recording time. Keep it concise, and use text to describe everything else.
Build a platform where they can share their advice with others.
Either start a podcast or a blog. Or help them find an audience that is outside of yourself —a fireside chat, a club, a non-profit, posting a Twitter thread or LinkedIn post, and so on. Their time is limited, and if they’re likely to give that same piece of advice to many others, help them find the tribe of people who are willing to listen to their advice. So instead of their advice being one-to-one, it’s one-to-many. In sum, a larger impact radius.
Of course, the caveat here is if the advice you seek is personal experience that isn’t suited for a stage, then don’t do it.
In closing
Some of the mentors I have today are folks I’ve known for years, but neither of us remember the discrete date in which it all started. Simply put, “it just happened.” There are others where we’ve never explicitly said we were mentor and mentee. Yet, I learn just as much if not more than if I had explicitly asked for mentorship. The same is true for some of the “mentees” I have.
At the same time, I wouldn’t discount the fact that you can truly find mentors everywhere in your life. Too many people focus on only finding strategic mentors, but fail to see the value in tactical and peer mentors, which I wrote more about three years back.
Photo by Ben White on Unsplash
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Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.
