them and place a tiara on their head.” In a perfect
meritocracy, tiaras would be doled out to the deserving, but I have yet to see one floating around an
office. Hard work and results should be recognized by others, but when they aren’t, advocating for
oneself becomes necessary. As discussed earlier, this must be done with great care. But it must be
done.

Taking risks, choosing growth, challenging ourselves, and asking for promotions (with smiles on
our faces, of course) are all important elements of managing a career. One of my favorite quotes
comes from author Alice Walker, who observed, “The most common way people give up their power
is by thinking they don’t have any.”

Do not wait for power to be offered. Like that tiara, it might never materialize. And anyway, who
wears a tiara on a jungle gym?



























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5

Are You My Mentor?

WHEN I WAS a child, one of my favorite books was Are You My Mother? , the story of a baby bird that
emerges from its shell to discover an empty nest. The hatchling heads off in search of its missing
mother, asking a kitten, a hen, a dog, and a cow the burning question: “Are you my mother?” Each
animal responds, “No.” The hatchling grows more desperate, eventually shouting, “Are you my
mother?” at a car, a boat, a plane, and even a steam shovel, which can only respond with a loud
“Snort!” Stuck in the shovel’s jaws, the hatchling appears doomed until, miraculously, the shovel lifts
the bird back to its nest. The mother returns and the hatchling announces, “You are a bird, and you are
my mother.”

This children’s book poignantly mirrors the professional question “Are you my mentor?” If ▂本▂作▂品▂由▂▂網▂友▂整▂理▂上▂傳▂
someone has to ask the question, the answer is probably no. When someone finds the right mentor, it
is obvious. The question becomes a statement. Chasing or forcing that connection rarely works, and
yet I see women attempt this all the time. When I give speeches or attend meetings, a startling number
of women introduce themselves and, in the same breath, ask me to be their mentor. I cannot recall a
single man asking me to do the same (although men have asked me to mentor their wives or
girlfriends).

The question is a total mood killer—the equivalent of turning to a pensive date and asking, “What
are you thinking?” Every senior woman I have talked to about this is deluged with the same request.
Their reaction is unanimous: “Oh, I never know what to say when people I don’t know ask me to be
their mentor.” The interaction is flattering, but awkward. Even media mogul Oprah Winfrey, who has
taught so much to an entire generation, admits that she feels uncomfortable when someone asks her to
be a mentor. She once explained, “I mentor when I see something and say, ‘I want to see that grow.’ ”

In part, we’ve brought this on ourselves. For the past decade, talk of mentorship and sponsorship
has been topic number one at any women’s career seminar. It is the focus of blogs, newspaper articles,
and research reports. Many of these young women are responding to the often repeated advice that if
they want to scale the corporate ladder, they need to find mentors (people who will advise them) as
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well as sponsors (people who will use their influence to advocate for them).

The emphasis on finding a mentor became esp