The Best Mentors Grow Leaders

This week I have been thinking a lot about the relationships I have been fortunate to have guided me to this tenth year of business ownership. 

Long before I understood the word mentor, I understood what it felt like to have someone see something in me.

In middle school, Mrs. Siebel placed me in charge of other students in Pep Club. It may have seemed like a small assignment to her, but responsibility felt natural to me. I liked having a task, understanding what needed to be accomplished, and helping others move toward a shared goal.

That early vote of confidence followed me into high school, where I became a basketball manager, FBLA president, and our yearbook editor. Looking back, I can see that leadership was being nurtured in me before I had the language—or perhaps the confidence—to name it for myself.

That is one of the first gifts of mentorship.

A mentor often sees the outline of who we might become while we are still standing too close to our own lives to recognize it.

When I hear the word mentor today, many names and faces come to mind, but Dave Griggs will always be at the top of that list. I would not be in the flooring business, and I certainly would not be a business owner, without his experience, guidance, and willingness to allow me to grow.

Dave taught me the flooring industry, but the larger lesson was never only about flooring. It was about relationships, reputation, responsibility, and the trust people place in you when they allow you to serve them.

You will hear me say often that our business is not really about flooring. We are experts in flooring, and we take that responsibility seriously, but the lasting work is about the relationships we build along the way.

Mentorship is much the same.

It is not simply the passing down of information. It is the sharing of experience, the opening of doors, and the quiet transfer of confidence from one person to another.

Throughout my career, I have been fortunate to have people serve in many important roles. I have had bosses, advisers, coaches, sponsors, friends, and mentors. Sometimes one person has filled several of those roles, but I believe there are distinctions.

A mentor helps us discover and grow into who we are capable of becoming.

A coach helps us work toward a specific and structured goal. An adviser offers knowledge and perspective that allows us to level up. A good boss provides the tools, expectations, and encouragement necessary to perform well for an organization. A trusted friend listens, supports, and stands beside us.

When I think of someone in my professional career who has worn a multitude of hats, John Shrum has been that person for me for more than three decades.

John and I first met when he was purchasing flooring for his businesses and later as colleagues in the building industry. As someone new to the industry, he had years of experience and was generous with his advice. He did more than answer questions. He made introductions, offered perspective, and advocated for people he believed in.

As his career moved into coaching, our company became a client. At that time, I was experiencing a season of professional isolation. I am not sure I would have been able to open up honestly to just any coach, but John and I had already built trust. Because of that trust, I could articulate what I was feeling, and he could help me see a path beyond it.

That would not be the last pivotal moment when I reached for his guidance.

Careers are not built in a straight line. Leadership rarely arrives with a clear map. There are seasons when we are certain, seasons when we are restless, and seasons when we know something must change but cannot yet see what comes next.

I am blessed and grateful to have mentors in my life who have had confidence in me beyond my own limits. 

One of the most meaningful lessons I have carried with me is this:

If someone invites you into the room, have the courage to sit at the table, and then invite others to sit with you.

That sentence captures much of what mentorship has meant in my life.

It is not enough to tell someone what you know. Sometimes they need you to open the door. Sometimes they need their name spoken in a room they have not yet entered. Sometimes they need someone with established credibility to say, “She belongs here.”

As a woman building a career in what has traditionally been a man’s industry, I understand the value of that kind of advocacy.

There are barriers that knowledge and hard work alone do not always remove. A sponsor or mentor can help create the opportunity, but once the door opens, the responsibility becomes ours. We must be prepared to demonstrate our value, share our knowledge, and earn the trust that placed us in the room.

And once we have earned our place, we should look around and ask who else needs an invitation.

Not all mentors know they are mentoring us.

I have spent much of my career observing people. I watch how leaders respond under pressure, how they treat people who cannot do anything for them, how they communicate difficult truths, and whether their values remain intact when no one is applauding.

Many people have influenced my leadership without ever realizing I was watching.

Mentorship can happen through a long-term relationship, but it can also occur through a single conversation, a small kindness, a moment of courage, or an example consistently lived. We may be shaping someone’s beliefs, skills, and expectations without ever knowing our lives are being studied.

That is a powerful reminder that leadership is not limited to the moments when we are intentionally leading.

There was also a season when I deeply needed mentorship and did not recognize it.

College was a complicated time in my life. There were mentors around me, but I did not yet understand how to identify the guidance I needed or how to navigate that kind of relationship. I had not learned that seeking help is not a weakness or that experienced people are often energized by someone who genuinely wants to grow.

I sometimes wonder how that season might have been different had I understood what I know now.

Perhaps that is one reason I am drawn to mentor people who remind me of a younger version of myself. I notice the person who is quietly searching for a path forward—the one who may not be the loudest or most confident in the room but is paying attention, asking questions, and looking for an opportunity to grow.

Leadership potential does not always announce itself.

Sometimes it waits quietly for someone to notice.

I first became aware that others were looking to me as a mentor when I worked as a financial officer. I often supervised assistants, interns, and employees in greeter roles. Many were young women in high school or college, and our relationships naturally became about more than completing a list of assigned tasks.

They had questions about work, confidence, leadership, and life. I began to recognize that being someone’s boss and being someone who helps them grow are not always the same responsibility.

As a younger leader, I was not always as comfortable in my own skin or as confident in my leadership style. With age comes experience, but when we are fortunate, it also brings greater emotional intelligence. I have become more aware of how people receive feedback, what belongs to the role and what belongs to the individual, and how to offer correction without diminishing the person.

True mentors must be willing to tell the truth.

I do not naturally enjoy criticism. No one is harder on me than I am, and criticism can reach back to old places that have little to do with the conversation happening in front of me. Over time, however, I have taught myself to pause, listen, and look for the lesson before allowing defensiveness to take over.

The mentors who have mattered most in my life have not simply cheered for me. They have respected me enough to tell me what I needed to hear.

I try to offer others that same honesty with care.

At the same time, mentoring is not rescuing. It is not managing another person’s life or taking responsibility for choices that belong to them. I have little interest in relationships built around endless drama or permanent victimhood.

Healthy mentorship must be rooted in growth.

Both people must bring something to the relationship. A mentor brings experience, honesty, access, and perspective. The person being mentored should bring curiosity, preparation, humility, and follow-through.

A mentor’s time should never be treated casually. Learn about the person before you meet. Arrive prepared. Ask thoughtful questions. Be attentive. Complete the work you agreed to do. Reach out when you need guidance rather than expecting your mentor to chase your growth for you.

Leaders are often energized by people who genuinely want to learn. The desire to grow may be the most important qualification a mentee can possess.

The beautiful surprise is that learning rarely moves in only one direction.

Some of my greatest lessons have come from relationships in which I officially held the title of mentor. Sometimes I am the mentor, and sometimes I am the mentee. Age, position, and experience do not always determine who has something important to teach.

I have also watched people I mentored grow beyond me.

One friend became a national trainer and speaker and has surpassed me in areas where I may once have helped guide her. I would be dishonest if I said I never missed the closeness of our earlier communication, but that feeling is overwhelmed by pride.

I will be one of her greatest cheerleaders from any room.

That is what mentorship is supposed to do.

A mentor should never need someone to remain small in order to feel important. The goal is not to create dependence. The goal is to help another person become confident enough to trust their own judgment, capable enough to lead, and generous enough to reach back for someone else.

Mentoring relationships may change as people grow. There have been times when my own drive or knowledge eventually moved beyond what a particular mentor could offer. That does not diminish the gift of what they gave me. It simply means the relationship accomplished what it was meant to accomplish and could evolve into friendship.

Gratitude does not require us to remain who we were when someone first helped us.

When I think about legacy, mentorship is at the top of the list.

The business matters. The leadership roles matter. The boards, committees, awards, projects, and milestones all represent meaningful chapters of my life. But titles eventually belong to someone else. Businesses change. Organizations move forward.

What remains is what we planted in other people.

I hope those I have mentored felt genuinely seen. I hope they knew our relationship had value and that I believed their growth was worth my time. I hope something I shared helped them sit more confidently at a table, navigate a difficult season, recognize their own leadership, or choose courage when the path ahead was uncertain.

Most of all, I hope they reach back.

Because the best mentors do not create followers.

They grow leaders.