Trouble Finding Mentors on Campus? Go Online

By David J. Leonard

André da Loba for The Chronicle

The summer after my first year of graduate school, I took a trip to several East Coast cities. Having settled on a dissertation topic, I quickly realized there were few professors at my institution, the University of California at Berkeley, who shared my research subject. Hoping to find some mentors with similar scholarly interests, I packed my bags and headed east. I scoured cities from New York to D.C. with a brief stop in Philly in hopes of finding my intellectual Yoda.

While that 1997 road trip resulted in several important meetings, each of which yielded guidance and support, my nerdy adventure was not the most effective way to find a mentor. It was weighted toward people working at East Coast universities, those who were available during the summer, and those who were celebrities worthy of national attention. As a boy, I had a shoebox full of baseball cards, and I brought that same level of fandom into the academic world. If there had been the equivalent of baseball cards for academics, I would have had a shoebox full of Cornel Wests and Robin Kelleys. Instead, motivated by meeting the superstars of ethnic and African-American studies, I collected their business cards. The quest for mentors was an expensive undertaking, and so, not surprisingly, it was the only trip I took in my search of the holy grail of mentors.

My approach didn’t change when I landed my first job, at Washington State University. While I had exceptional mentors there, my initial career was defined by immense isolation. The remote location, limited travel funds, and family demands made it difficult to attend conferences, much less go out on Mentor Tour 2.0. As good as my mentors were, I needed more: I needed guidance, support, and a community that pushed me, critically engaged with me, and elevated my work. I would eventually find all this and much more online. It was through virtual environments that mentors emerged. People I never met in person would become trusted advisers—colleagues who would read my work, provide feedback, and demand growth. It was in the online community that I found my voice and grew as a teacher, scholar, and person.

If I were in graduate school today, I would take an entirely different approach to finding a mentor. I would need only a laptop and a strong Internet connection instead of a cross-country trip. I would arrange Skype chats instead of office appointments. I would use email, Twitter, Facebook, and even Instagram to develop relationships before every meeting. I would use all sorts of technologies to cultivate networks, to understand the work and the scholar, and to otherwise build an academic community outside my immediate surroundings.

New media and technology—Facebook and Twitter, Skype and Google Chat—are transforming the way we should be mentored and how we should approach mentoring. No longer limited by the availability of mentors on campus and the quick advice received in the coffee line at a conference, the new era of mentoring is based increasingly on relationships and communities created within virtual spaces.

As with real-life mentors, one can get good and bad mentoring online. It is crucial to know what is good mentoring and to identify people who will be invested in the work and the person. It is also essential to work at developing these relationships. A Facebook page and an occasional tweet will not suffice. Here are few simple rules:

Maintain a virtual presence. Remember, it’s called social media. If the only time you reach out to a potential mentor is to ask for something (“Hey, can you RT this?”), you probably will not develop the most-productive relationships. Virtual spaces allow us to engage other scholars and connect on a personal level.

Remember that actual conversations still matter. Facebook comment threads and Twitter can be great, but a (virtual) face-to-face conversation is where mentoring magic is going to happen. Whether using Skype or Google Chat, a phone conversation (yes, people still talk on the phone), or an eventual meeting at a conference, it is imperative to not simply use avatars, hashtags, and the “like” button. While I used Skype in my graduate classes, where students had an opportunity to ask questions and make connections with potential mentors, I also stressed the importance of moving beyond the impersonal aspects of social media. This year I even had students write letters (using pens, no less) to build upon their Skype meetings.

Ask your advisers on campus or those you have relationships with to make introductions. As an interdisciplinary scholar, I didn’t often attend conferences along with my mentors, making virtual connections that much more important.

Use conferences as opportunities to network and engage with an academic community. But remember, these once-a-year gatherings are not enough. They are impersonal, chaotic, and a time to connect with those whom you’ve already established relationships with. Enter social media.

Stay in contact with those you meet. Don’t disappear into virtual obscurity after you write that initial email or tweet introducing yourself or announcing plans to apply to graduate school. These potential mentors, including those you meet at a conference as well as social-media contacts, can write letters of recommendation and introduce you to other professors, graduate students, and organizations outside the academy. They may provide publishing opportunities or be willing to give feedback on your work. This can happen only if you stay in contact, if you build a relationship, and if you invest in a shared community.

The power and potential of virtual mentors and academic communities are helpful to everyone, but they offer a particularly powerful tool for marginalized groups, whose mentoring needs are often neglected. Social media provide graduate students of color, first-generation students, and others with an important space to navigate the often inhospitable culture of academe. In her essay “On Mentoring First Generation and Graduate Students of Color,” published online at MLA Commons, Marissa López discusses the importance of blogs and social media, bringing to light issues that might otherwise be excluded by academic gatekeepers, as well as appropriate responses.

“There is ample research on the importance of social and academic networks for the success of underrepresented undergraduates,” López writes. “Because the majority of graduate work takes place in isolation, and there are few minority scholars in departments, institutions, and fields at large, building a broad mentoring and support network is imperative for first-generation and graduate students of color.” Online mentoring is thus key in expanding these networks.

While I have focused on graduate students here, these same dilemmas, struggles, and mentoring tools are equally relevant for junior faculty members. While it is essential to have campus mentors who serve as guides in the tenure-and-promotion process, outside mentors are crucial for long-term professional development, intellectual growth, and social well-being.

Moreover, mentors are not just for those starting out in their careers. You are never too experienced to have mentors. It is important to continue to seek out mentors, who can assist in the face of a new challenge, research project, or transition to an administrative position.

Academe teaches us over and over again to go it alone. Individualism runs rampant, and we spend long hours alone in our labs and writing dens. But success—in the classroom, in publishing, in obtaining grants—is about standing on the shoulders of a community of scholars, colleagues, and friends. This has historically taken place on campus, within our chosen fields. In the 21st century, it is increasingly taking place in virtual reality.