I have been lucky to have had several wonderful mentors in my professional life, all of whom have helped me become better at what I’m doing and have given me a boost of confidence I desperately needed.
One of my first mentors was my friend, Richard Tatum. He’s a brilliant director and just a great guy. When I first started directing theater, I had no idea what I was doing because I had just kind of stumbled into it. He was co-artistic director at a theater company and invited me to join. He was a great resource when I wasn’t sure what I was doing. He was encouraging and supportive as I explored and tried to find my feet as a director. If I had questions about what I was doing, he was happy to answer them and to guide me in the right direction. The best advice he gave me was to just do what I do. I had been considering going back to college to study theater, and he told me not to because he felt my instincts were so good and that studying might actually screw that up. He’s still a great mentor, as I just sent my one woman show off to him to get his thoughts about how to rewrite it and make it stronger for a performance of it in February.
My other greatest mentor was and is Jeff Johnson. Jeff is a very successful comic book artist and storyboard artist. He recently drew the interior pages for the new Supergirl book, has done storyboards for the recent Transformers cartoon series and is working on a new animated project. I met him through a thing called Drink and Draw, which is exactly what it sounds like. A bunch of artists – comic book, illustrators, game designers, et al – meet every Thursday night at Casey’s Pub downtown in Los Angeles and, yes, drink and draw. Jeff’s specialty is storytelling and how to do it effectively in comic books. He took an interest in me about three years ago when I was trying to decide whether or not to go to comic book college, aka the Kubert School in New Jersey. Jeff looked at my portfolio, spent a long time discussing my goals with me, and told me I didn’t need to go. I just needed to learn how to lay out a comic book. He showed up the next week with a stack of books and said, “Here’s your curriculum. We’ll be your teachers”. And he has been ever since. He guided me through every single step of my comic book from how to write it to how to figure out the panels to how to actually draw everything. He checked in with me constantly when I was in treatment for breast cancer, saying he wanted to keep me going creatively while I was dealing with chemo and radiation. He recently came to my last fundraiser, walked in the door, handed me $5 and asked for a copy of the comic book. Then he hugged me and told me how proud he was of me.
To me, these two men are the epitome of mentors. I didn’t need to ask or beg for their help. They saw someone with talent and just stepped in and said, let me help you. They did it effortlessly and honestly, with no expectation of return. That’s what a mentor should be – someone who sees your talent and steps up to guide you selflessly.
Why am I talking about this here? Well, I know this might cause a stir but I’ll take it. I don’t think women are taught how to mentor and a lot of women want to mentor but aren’t sure how to go about doing it. I don’t know if it’s because we’re raised differently sometimes, where women aren’t taught how to play well with others, or if it’s just an inherent difference in our DNA. But I think men just come to mentoring more naturally.
My experience has been that women don’t naturally reach out and say, here, let me help you unless you are in their very close circle of friends. They will bend over backwards for the women near and dear to them, which is awesome and amazing. But I think women find it difficult to reach outside of that circle and offer guidance. Maybe it’s because we’ve all been burned by that other woman who has stolen your idea or taken credit for your work or just because women tend to protect their den fiercely and don’t want to let others in.
I think we can be better mentors. I think we have to be, in order for more women to grow in this industry. Yes, helping our handful of best friends will certainly do that. But what about that young (or older) woman who is on the edge of your periphery? Doesn’t she deserve your help as well?
Here’s what I see as a few points that we can all do – and which I try to do in my capacity as a budding comic book artist and established director – to help out our fellow women who are outside of our inner sphere.
- Extend your hand. I’ve recently had a lot of people approach me about how to make their comic book. I’ve been thrilled that many women have approached me. I always make sure to give them a card, ask for theirs, and spend some time talking with them about what they want to accomplish and how I can help. Many of these women (or men) are strangers. But I feel like I have knowledge I can pass on to them so I should. I try to follow up with them if I have their number. Then it’s up to them to follow through. A lot of people just won’t but I leave the door open in case they desire to reach back.
- Be open. Listen to the women you don’t know when you’re at an event or a dinner or just hanging around with friends. Listen for opportunities to reach out to someone who could use your advice, your expertise, your connection. That’s the easiest part, listening.
- Follow up. If you say you’re going to do something for someone, do it. Don’t leave the person hanging. This has been my most disappointing experience, where a female colleague says she’ll help but when I reach out to her, she either doesn’t get back to me or flakes. Don’t be a flake. Be a mentor.
- Be supportive. The biggest thing these men have done is support me in so many ways I never expected. Showing up for events, checking in on me to see how things are going, just being there if I need something. Support and encouragement are things we all need and can never get enough of. So give it generously.
So next time you’re out, take a moment to listen and see if there is someone outside your comfort zone who you can reach out to and become the mentor you know you can be.
– Susan