To the Protege: Today's Mentoring Session, $120!
He would arrive in 30 minutes, give or take 15 to 20 depending on what mood he was in. If he was agitated, in need of a conversation partner, working through something difficult, or particularly in need of advice, he would possibly be a few minutes early. But if it was springtime and the birds were singing, the sun was out, or he happened to be in the midst of new romantic love, it was more likely than not he would be about 15 to 20 minutes late. It was predictable. Furthermore, when we initiated conversation, which often began with a question like, “so what should we discussed today?” offered by me, he would often reply with something like: “I don't know, I've been sort of thinking about...maybe...kinda…sorta...this and that.” In other words, he arrived unfocused and somewhat unprepared to engage with the issues upon which we would have already agreed to address.
I had to get through to him. I had to help him know, that although my time was offered to him freely, my time is as valuable as his and everyone else's.you see, he had slipped into a form of mentoring abuse, a situation in which the protégé treats unfairly the mentor, that needed to be corrected.
So I sat there at my desk thinking, “What could I do to get through to him?”
When he sat down I asked him this question: "If you had to pay for our session today, how much would you be willing to pay?" The offended look on his face was immediate. In fact, his saucer-wide eyes quickly moved in the way one’s eyes do when sizing up a shyster or crook. His reply was classic: "What, you don't want to be my mentor anymore?"
I gave a wily smile and knew that I had him exactly where I wanted him. We could now have a productive conversation about the value of this experience. So, ignoring the umbrage he had begun to take, I pushed on with, "What's the price tag on our time, what's the number?"
As if I had pulled some "bait-and-switch" routine upon him, he asked again: "So, you don't want to be my mentor anymore?"
He was not yet getting the point so I gingerly waded in with: "The time I set aside to meet with you is indeed my gift to you. Yes, of course I want to continue to be your mentor. However, I don't want to be abused any longer. You see, when you fail to arrive on time consistently or do not implement agreements that emerge in our learning conversations I have to question whether you value this time in the same degree I value it. If I were not meeting with you, someone in my working world would usually pay me around $120 an hour. I forfeit receiving that whenever I give you the gift of my time."
Admirably, he replied with, "I guess I never thought of it that way." Then, he reached for his satchel, took out his checkbook, and wrote a check for $120. He pushed it across the desk toward me.
I smiled and said, "Thank you, I'm going to keep this check. I'm not likely to cash it. However, it's an important symbol that tells me you understand that what we do together is valuable."
Protégés, do not misunderstand. This discussion is not about punctuality. Instead, it is about investment. Both mentor and protégé are investing time when they meet together and if one or even both are asleep in the midst of the exchange, then real question should be raised as to why the mentoring relationship is being pursued.
Real value should transfer between the two lives when a mentoring experience is underway.
As best I can recall, that particular protégé was never late for any of our sessions after that day. His engagement, his sobriety around the issues about which we wrestled seemed to experience an uptick as well. By the way, a year later, during the week of his graduation from the graduate school where I taught, I gave his check back to him. He is now living internationally, investing in hundreds of leaders in a developing nation, exchanging real value from his life to theirs. You see, not only did he discover the value of my time, he discovered the value of his own time.
