The value of mentorship
Having survived my first week as a newly qualified midwife, I have once again been considering the value of mentors. Mentorship interests me greatly, perhaps because I have spent a lot of time in education in one guise or another, but more likely because I have been lucky enough to meet some incredible people who have been invaluable mentors over the past few years.
A mentor for me is someone who provides guidance, opportunities, advice, contacts, someone who develops skills and knowledge, prompts reflection and criticality, challenges you, encourages you, accepts you, gives you a safe space in which to learn and thrive. A mentor is someone who sees your potential and helps you see how you can realise it. A mentor trusts that you won't fall, but acts as a safety net, just in case. I have accumulated mentors over the years, and relationships between myself and those mentors have morphed into something stronger and fiercer than mentorship. Friendships have evolved and blossomed, and will last a life time. Other mentors have moved away, or I have moved away, but that connection is still there and communication has become sporadic, but no less valuable. These mentors are my life gurus or my tribe, they are incredible and unforgettable.
The absolute highlight of my week so far has been facilitating my first birth as a qualified midwife. Better still, I stood shoulder to shoulder with one of my life gurus as new life took its first breath. Later on this week, this same midwife, despite having had a gruelling day herself, took the time to get hold of me and ask how I was doing after a difficult shift. She's still a mentor to me, one of life's warriors, a true champion of women, and an amazing friend that I value fiercely.
I have been incredibly lucky and have absorbed other midwifery mentors into my friendship circle. These women selflessly supported me through a challenging few years of training, teaching me, nurturing me, making me believe in myself, and encouraging me. At a particularly low ebb, I was struggling to make a list of my strengths, a prerequisite at the beginning of each practice placement. My mentor who, quite frankly, must have thought I was hard work at this point, sat with me patiently and asked me why I wanted to be a midwife. A smile spread across my face and I answered, 'because I love women'. She told me that was my greatest strength. I've told this story many times because she could have easily sat and asked me what I was good at, what I excel in, and caused me even more anxiety, but she didn't. She got to the heart of the matter. The same mentor, who is now a good friend, also gave me some tough love across that placement. She pointed out that I let people treat me like rubbish, she also called my bluff and told me we couldn't work together if I wasn't honest with her and tell her what was going on.
That's the rub with decent mentorship that crosses boundaries between professional and personal, it can hurt sometimes. Good mentors know when you're trying to pull the wool over their eyes, they delve into your soul and make you tell them what's going on. Without getting to the heart of the matter, you can't learn properly and you don't make the most of your mentor. It's taken me three years to work out why my community mentor occasionally scares the life out of me, it's because I live in fear that one day she will see me the way that I see myself. I worry that I will disappoint her and that she'll come to side with my inner-critic who often detests me. I value her opinion and care what she thinks.
Unlike those mentors who were assigned to me throughout my training, the next offered herself to me as a mentor. I first met her at a local study day during my first year of training, where she spoke about the value of student midwives and roared about the impact that we/they could have. She put fire in my belly and made me want to go out and fight. So much so, that when I bumped into her in the toilets afterwards, I blurted out a lot of incoherent ramblings and pretty much bowed down to her greatness. Later still, as I made a cup of tea for her and another demi-goddess of the midwifery world, she gave me her business card and told me to keep in touch.
A few days later, I managed to gulp down my trepidation and sense of inadequacy and beat the keys of my laptop into submission as I reeled off an email along the lines of, 'Hi, you may not remember me, but I'm the student midwife who accosted you in the toilets at the study day' (not my finest hour, but a great decision, as it turns out). She emailed back, complimented my writing, suggested I submit something for publication and made the relevant introductions. The rest, as they say, is history. Thanks to her positivity and encouragement, I wrote a first article, have subsequently had several pieces published, and have a couple more in the pipeline.
We have crossed paths again at various points throughout my midwifery training, and on each occasion she has been full of the same motivation, encouragement and positivity. She was at the European Midwives Association conference in London in 2016, and she cheered me on as I gave my presentation (about mentorship, funnily enough) to a room full of midwives and student. She has always shouted me on from the sidelines and supported every crazy and ambitious idea I've ever had, and she's never questioned why I would want to do the things I've set out to do. She has always told me to go for things, to aim high, to try, to achieve.
Never was this more true than when when a group of us worked to establish a midwifery society at university. She was hugely supportive and came to speak at our first ever study day, although I managed to miss giving her the introduction she deserved as one of my little girls was off school and needed a wee at a very inopportune moment. This woman is committed and selfless, she cares and makes you feel valued. Her positivity is contagious, she works tirelessly to build people up, to mentor them, and help them realise their full potential. She is one of a band of truly wonderful women who will happily ruffle feathers, tell you when she's proud of you, advocate fearlessly and tirelessly for you, take you under her wing, and give you the opportunity to progress. She's one of those women who never takes credit for other people's successes, and who openly beams with pride when other people do well.
The women who have mentored me are an inspiration and have made me appreciate the value of mentorship. Here's to you, here's to supporting all women, to making students and midwives understand our own value, to giving us the confidence to stick to our guns and pursue our dreams. Here's to providing positive role models, and to cascading mentorship down to future generations. Being a student midwife or a newly qualified midwife is amazing, scary and soul-destroying all at once some days, but having people next to you, behind you, or in the room next door who support you and advocate for you makes it all a bit less daunting.
Here's to the life gurus, the warrior women, the friends, mentors and decent people who make up our tribe. Thank you all.
