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Mentoring in Action

The Act of Mentoring Up Close

A successful career will no longer be about promotion. It will be about mastery.

Michael Hammer, author of Reengineering the Corporation

Jack Gamble was the consummate outdoorsman. Every deer, dove, quail, turkey, and largemouth bass was in grave danger whenever Jack entered the wild with his rifle, shotgun, bow, or reel. But at Gracie-Omar, Inc., he was the consummate mentor.

Jack was the manufacturing engineering manager at the Triplin, Georgia, plant of Gracie-Omar, a large computer-systems and components plant. He had done his time in the trenches and had quickly worked his way up the chain. Now he reported directly to the plant manager. Jack’s upward mobility was due not only to his superior performance and down-home humor but to his unique way of communicating to associates what he learned. As the plant expanded, the plant manager promoted Jack repeatedly, seeing him as the prototype of a “learning organization leader.”

Tracy Black was a new systems engineer transferred to Gracie-Omar’s Triplin plant from their plant north of Boston. Tracy would ultimately be assigned to Jack and had nothing in common with him except hunting. Tracy was from upstate New York; Jack was local, born and raised twenty-five miles from Triplin. Tracy had a somber and clipped style; Jack had a mile-wide smile and a drawl as slow as molasses. Tracy was a liberal Democrat and Catholic; Jack was a deacon in the Baptist church and a conservative Republican. Not least, Tracy was a woman; Jack was not.

Tracy and Jack first met at the company picnic. It was Tracy’s second day. She arrived thirty minutes late. The only people she knew were the human resources director who had interviewed her, and Rod, the plant manager, whom she had briefly met. The crowd seemed very cliquish to her, their boisterous conversation like code: “We’re all big buddies here, and if you’re not one of us now, you won’t be in this lifetime!” The meeting planner announced how the meal would be served, the plant manager made a short speech, and Jack told a long joke about a mule. The crowd laughed and cheered; she didn’t understand what was funny about the punch line. She thought of Boston.

“Howdy,” said someone behind her as she was reaching for a short ear of corn in a long serving line. Startled, she quickly turned. “I’m Jack Gamble. Rod tells me you and I will be working together.”

Oh, no! she thought privately, Not the mule man! But she managed to utter a crisp hello.

Jack asked her the usual fair-weather, cocktail-party questions—where’re you from, where’d you go to school, what’d you do before you came here, you want to sit? At the end of five minutes, Jack suggested that Tracy stop by his office on Monday right after lunch.

Jack’s office revealed few clues about its occupant. As Tracy waited there for him to return from a luncheon meeting, she searched for clues about this man who would be her boss and mentor. On the desk was a picture of Jack’s wife and two children; on the wall, a framed ISO-9001 certificate and a picture of two wild turkeys. On the floor behind the desk was a piece of equipment that looked like a large blue jug. Other than that, the office could have belonged to anyone.

“Sorry I’m late!” she heard from behind her. “Would you like a glass of real good homemade iced tea?” he asked with the same impish style he had used to tell the mule joke.

“No,” said Tracy, more brusquely than she had intended.

Jack served himself from the large blue jug. He turned around as he began speaking, warmth and confidence in his words. “Tracy, I’m real excited about getting to work with you. Sarah, over in human resources, tells me you are one terrific systems engineer.” Tracy didn’t know how to respond, but Jack continued, not seeming to want a response from her yet. “You’ve worked on the LWB-211, which I would really like to know more about. We haven’t gotten any of those in here yet, but we plan to in the fourth quarter.

“Now, how can I help you get settled in?” Tracy was not sure, but she asked Jack whether she would have access to the company cloud and a laptop with a superfast modem that would enable her to link into company files when she worked on the road.

“That’s a new one,” said Jack, writing it on a small pad. “I’ll find out and let you know right away. I’ve been keeping a list of the questions new people ask, along with the answers. I’ve made you a copy. But the cloud question won’t be in this issue!” Tracy was beginning to feel more comfortable with Jack.

“I don’t know what you think of this plant,” Jack went on, “but I sure do remember what I felt at first. It seemed like a tight family that didn’t want any more cousins! I remember feeling downright scared and wondering if I’d made a bum decision. But I made up my mind I wasn’t going to let it beat me. I just started acting like I was already in the family. And you know what? It worked like a thirty-ought-six on an eight-pointer at twenty yards!”

Tracy was surprised. “You’re a hunter?” she asked.

Jack’s eyes twinkled mischievously. He looked like someone who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You bet!” he said. “And if you aren’t, then I just messed in my nest—using an expression that only another hunter would get.”

“I hunt too,” replied Tracy, somewhat relieved to have one thing in common.

“Terrific!” said Jack. “Do you like to hunt deer?”

Tracy nodded. “I hunt anything in season,” she said. It was her first foray into Southern mores.

Jack leaned forward. “That’s great! Have you seen the new issue of Field and Stream?” She had not. “Well, I have it right here. Why don’t you take it? There’s a great article on deer stands—has some crazy ideas I plan to try next time my son and I go deer hunting.” Tracy began to loosen up as they continued to talk for some time on their newfound common interest.

A few weeks after Jack and Tracy’s get-acquainted meeting, an Ulmer-1911 machine was delivered. Jack had been Ulmer-qualified for a few years and had gone back to Wisconsin twice for refresher training. Tracy had heard about but never operated the machine and was eager to learn. Late one afternoon Jack and Tracy sat down for the first time at the console of the 1911.

“Before we start,” Jack began, “I want to find out what you know about this machine.” He listened as Tracy described the machine’s purpose and what it could produce. “I see you’ve done your homework,” he said proudly. Tracy smiled.

Jack continued: “Think of this machine as an extension of your right arm and imagine what it would feel like to have that arm ten feet longer than the other. Not only does hand-eye coordination change, but you’re bound to feel awkward. Expect that same sensation with the Ulmer-1911.”

Tracy began to feel a bit less apprehensive. “Are you going to show me how it works?” she asked, her impatience beginning to be evident.

“I was just like you,” Jack teased, “as anxious as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” Tracy grinned and took a deep breath. “But,” Jack continued, “it will be better for you to run this machine than to watch me run it. Just looking at the center screen, what do you think is the first step?”

Tracy quickly responded, “I’d say keying on command six and moving the dugen switch to ninety degrees.”

“Great choice!” Jack answered. “And what’s your objective in taking that route?”

The lesson continued until Tracy was operating the Ulmer fairly proficiently. The only time Jack touched the equipment was after Tracy had taken a series of incorrect steps and gotten so far off the starting point that she needed help getting back. Jack’s goal was to guide her thinking and understanding more than her operating and remembering.

In the months that followed, Jack and Tracy’s relationship improved. Their mutual interest in hunting turned out to be a key source of compatibility. As Tracy grew less nervous and more confident, she began to take more risks in her spirited interaction with Jack. Soon she was matching him jab for friendly jab. She also began assuming greater plant responsibility, including the supervision of four engineers.

One day she stopped Jack in the hall with a look of concern on her face. “Got a few minutes?” she asked.

Five minutes later they were in her office. “Adam’s a problem,” she began bluntly after Jack closed the door behind him.

She had learned that with Jack there was no need to beat around the bush. “Just cut to the chase,” he had encouraged her. It had proven helpful in her dealings with some of the more impatient engineers.

“Tell me more,” Jack replied, sitting in the chair in front of her desk.

Adam was one of Tracy’s new direct reports. “He’s not pulling his weight. I’ve encouraged him, counseled him, and tried to understand him. I’m running out of patience.”

Jack waited to make sure she had no more to say about the subject. “How can I help?” he asked, not wanting to assume anything yet about whether his assistance was required.

Tracy looked straight at him. “I guess I need you to be a sounding board, and maybe give me some ideas on how to get him fired up—or fired.”

“What do you think the problem is, based on what you know?” asked Jack.

“His morale is lousy. When I try to talk with him about his performance, his nonverbals are rather patronizing, like he’s offended that I raised the issue.”

Jack thought for a minute. “I can see that would be a tough nut to crack. I’ve never been really comfortable dealing with negative performers. It always makes me feel anxious if I have to get tough with an employee. I can see—”

“But you still manage to get them turned around,” interrupted Tracy.

Jack could see that Tracy thought he had some magical secret he had kept to himself. “You believe there’s a special technique that maybe you’ve missed.”

“Yes, I suppose I do, in a way. You make it look easy. I remember when you had to terminate Edsel Joiner. The guy ended up thanking you for it!”

Jack did not respond for a while. Tracy suddenly felt awkward, as though she had allowed her stream of emotion to overflow its banks. Then, with unusual emotion in his voice, Jack said, “That was the scariest thing I’ve ever done since I came to work here.” They both sat in silence.

Jack took another stab at the issue. “How does he react when you get stern and serious?”

“I’m not sure,” Tracy responded.

Jack tried again. “Let me ask it this way: if I asked Adam to candidly describe you when the two of you talk about his performance, what words would he use?”

Tracy’s demeanor began to change. It was as if the wheels of wisdom were turning in her head.

“He would say I was relentlessly patient.” She was still half lost in thought.

“What else?”

Tracy responded with near excitement in her voice. “He would not describe me as tough, demanding, or disciplined.”

Jack sensed that she was solving her own issue. Again, he paused before raising another question. He knew instinctively that pace was everything when insight was the goal. “So what do you think should be your next step?”

Tracy began to outline steps: a serious conversation, a performance plan, short-term goals with clear feedback, supervision with a shorter leash, and, above all, less understanding and more discipline. Jack offered a few ideas, but mostly affirmation and encouragement. They parted with an agreement to revisit the issue in a few days.

The story had a happy ending. Adam admitted to Tracy that he was having difficulty working for a woman, but he ultimately grew to respect her, turning out excellent performance. Tracy was promoted to department manager and then transferred to corporate headquarters in Wisconsin. Jack mentored more new engineers. He was offered promotions but turned down any that involved a move. Woods for hunting were more important than mahogany row. Besides, he got a kick out of watching people learn—especially those who weren’t sure they were going to fit in.