3. Mentor
In business, quality mentorship is the difference between rookies and veterans, good players and all-stars, dynasties and the LA Clippers. The best way to maximize talent is to take it under your wing and nurture it. Mentorship is investment, pure and simple. Here are a few examples of different types of mentors and how they helped me:
Lynette
I had three great mentors in my career; my first was “Lynette.” Lynette was one of very few black ad women in the ‘70s and ‘80s. She worked at places like Leo Burnett, had great success as a marketing consultant before becoming a professor at my alma mater.
First time I met her was a Monday morning, 9 a.m. freshman Intro to Advertising. After an hour of no teacher and 65 students chirping about walking out, Lynette walks in, slams some books on a desk and yells, Hey! Anybody got a cigarette?! It was classic.
We all hit the hallway for a smoking break—indoor smoking on campus was still legal in the early 1990s. (We didn’t have many ashtrays so we just used the carpeting—it looked like rotted Swiss cheese. The only place you really couldn’t smoke was in the classrooms, but the cigarette butts under the partially melted plastic seats told otherwise.) Over a few Marlboros she told me about her days in the ad industry. And after weeks of “here’s a product, make up an ad” assignments, she says, “You can do this for a living you know…”
“Do what?”
“Advertising. You can do advertising for living.”
Besides her I didn’t really think black people did advertising; like most aspects of business, it just seemed like something only that whites were allowed to do. I hadn’t heard of Tom Burrell, Jo Muse, Carol H. Williams or anyone like that. I knew Spike Lee’s Mars Blackmon commercials but that was about it.
People make money in marketing, lots of money, she noted. And since I was black, she said I could bring a perspective that most weren’t used to. (I think I was the only black student in the class so she took an interest in me.) You’re good enough to do this. You should try it, she’d say. My parents, God love ‘em, always told me I could be anything I wanted. But Lynette told me I could be something specific.
So I hit the campus library and loaded up on every business publication from Advertising Age and Brandweek to the Wall Street Journal. She started schooling me on all things “business,” including race and gender politics. She figured I’d have it easer than her, partly because times change, partly because I was male, mostly because she thought I could be really good. Anyway, Lynette’s a big reason why you’re reading this book.
(Thank you, Lynette.)
First time I met her was a Monday morning, 9 a.m. freshman Intro to Advertising. After an hour of no teacher and 65 students chirping about walking out, Lynette walks in, slams some books on a desk and yells, Hey! Anybody got a cigarette?! It was classic.
“Do what?”
“Advertising. You can do advertising for living.”
Besides her I didn’t really think black people did advertising; like most aspects of business, it just seemed like something only that whites were allowed to do. I hadn’t heard of Tom Burrell, Jo Muse, Carol H. Williams or anyone like that. I knew Spike Lee’s Mars Blackmon commercials but that was about it.
People make money in marketing, lots of money, she noted. And since I was black, she said I could bring a perspective that most weren’t used to. (I think I was the only black student in the class so she took an interest in me.) You’re good enough to do this. You should try it, she’d say. My parents, God love ‘em, always told me I could be anything I wanted. But Lynette told me I could be something specific.
So I hit the campus library and loaded up on every business publication from Advertising Age and Brandweek to the Wall Street Journal. She started schooling me on all things “business,” including race and gender politics. She figured I’d have it easer than her, partly because times change, partly because I was male, mostly because she thought I could be really good. Anyway, Lynette’s a big reason why you’re reading this book.
(Thank you, Lynette.)
Word to Hal…
Professor “Hal Rallen” ran my college’s advertising curriculum. He eventually replaced Lynette as my mentor—figure as she got busier and I got older. He schooled me a lot on being a black male in business. He was a big reason I stayed with copywriting as opposed to going account-side or client side. Where Lynette was very strategic and product attribute-driven, Hal was more creative—he’d been a commercial producer for years. He liked the eye-catching, entertainment approach to selling, which kept me interested. He also hooked me up with “Brenda,” my very first headhunter and got me my first big agency job. (She saw my race as an asset when most didn’t.)
