What’s in it for the Mentor?

Dec 15

So, here’s a riddle.

How can a text message you received be both completely unsurprising and a happy surprise at the same time?

Answer: it was sent by Kathy Wilbur.

Those contradictory concepts sum up the very nature of her digital communications, with me at least.

Of course, Kathy is reaching out to set up breakfast to “catch up.” It’s what she does. Like clockwork. Just when I’ve let the energy in our communications fade, she’s right there to pick up the slack. No surprise at all.

And still, what a great and pleasant surprise to get that text.

“Any time this Friday for early bkfst? Or coffee?”

Of course!

“Hi. These mtgs always remind me we should get coffee. What do you think?”

Absolutely!

I got one last minute lunch invitation from Kathy while on vacation in London and immediately thought, “Dang it! Why do I have to be in London right now?!”

Lunches, breakfasts, coffees – heck, passes on the street – with Kathy were the best. They were the rare meeting you put on your calendar with happy anticipation, because you knew you were in store for 90-plus minutes of laughs, super-informed gossip, and a listening soul that was sincere, honest, and generous.

We all have business lunches we endure. Lunches with Kathy were a joy. She made sure of it. She was the reason for it. And in the days since the news of her surprising death, I’ve come to understand and appreciate just how many of these lunches and coffees Kathy had with people.

And while not riddle-worthy, this is another pleasant dichotomy of Kathy Wilbur.

How could a person with so many hundreds – maybe thousands – of friends always make you feel like you were her closest one?

While busy doing some of the headiest jobs in the entire state, Kathy was always the one to schedule and never the one to hurry these conversations. In fact, when my phone would buzz on the table or ring from my pocket, it was always Kathy who would say, “Oh, I know how busy you are. If you need to run or take that, please do.”

“Right, I’m the busy one,” I would sarcastically say.

“You are!” she would insist, and then list a family thing, or job responsibility, or ongoing stress that showed she was not only reaching out to reconnect, she was reaching out because she was paying close attention to who you were, what you said, and what you were going through.

And, I think, unlike many people who at times reluctantly endure the social obligations of professional life, Kathy actually enjoyed them. She sought them out. I’m not sure if it was intentional or instinctual, but I am sure it was beneficial to many.

I’m sure of this because people have said so. Since her passing, the shared social channels of our Michigan capital community have been full of stories, reminiscences, and memorials to Kathy from so very many people. Across the spectrum of generations, politics, industries, and public service, Kathy’s sneaky mentorship was relentless. Sneaky because while opinionated, always, and biting, at times, she was never teachy or preachy. She was an accomplished and talented professional, a kind and giving person of both her time and her experiences, who mentored by being present in our lives. Relentless, in my experience, because it was always she who initiated. Again, the pleasant surprise that was, in Kathy’s way, completely unsurprising.

As with most of life, Seinfeld speaks to this very thing.

After a first date with a woman who shares she has a mentor, Jerry tells George about this mentor/protégé relationship set up.

“She has a mentor?” George asks.

“Yes,” Jerry says. “And the mentor advises the protégé.”

Looking intrigued and confused, George follows up, “Is there any money involved?”