Think back to the mentors who have crossed your path, lighting the way at different moments in your life.

Some stayed for years.

Some appeared for a season.

Some may not even realize the impact they had.

Who first saw the gift in you?

Not your position.

Not the accomplished version of you.

Not the leader you have grown into.

But the earlier version.

The person you were…The person you are…The person you are still becoming.

To be clear, mentorship does not always come with a formal title. I have written about this often. It does not always happen in a scheduled meeting. Sometimes it lives in passing comments. Sometimes it lives in classrooms. Sometimes it lives in a quiet moment when someone notices something in you before you have the words for it yourself.

In my book, The Leader Inside, I wrote:

“Gifts live within exceptional educators, waiting to be unwrapped in the right place, at the right time, with the right people.”

I believe that deeply because I have lived it.

I often think about my fourth grade teacher. I have a treasured photo of me in her classroom, young and unaware of what would unfold in the years ahead. Decades later, I sat beside her again, this time visiting her home during the summer months. She has mentored me since I stepped into a formal leadership role. We still speak regularly, and I memorialized our connection in a special chapter in my book where we write back and forth to one another.

Time has passed. Roles have changed. But the light she handed me is still burning and continues to carry me forward.

She did not hand me a roadmap.

She did not script my future.

She simply illuminated something in me.

That is lighting the way for others.

As George Couros writes in his new book Forward, Together, “After all, isn’t true growth measured by our ability to look back on who we were and appreciate how far we’ve come?”

Growth does not happen in isolation. It happens because someone sees us.

That brings me to a moment that happened just a few weeks ago.

I was sitting at my son’s varsity basketball game with my dad. During halftime, a woman approached him. She gently tapped him on the shoulder, looked him in the eye, and said, “Hi, Mr. E.”

Knowing my dad well, I could see a brief look of confusion cross his face. He did not immediately recognize her. After teaching English in that school for 39 years, he has had countless former students who still recognize him in the community.

“Hi,” he replied warmly. “May I ask your name?”

“It’s Wanda,” she said with a strong smile. “I played on your girls varsity basketball team. You changed my life. You believed in me. You kept me focused.”

I felt myself getting choked up as I watched the exchange.

Then she looked at me.

“I remember you,” she said. “You used to sit in the bleachers watching him coach the way you’re watching your son now.”

She shared how his expectations and his belief in her kept her in school and helped her grow both on and off the court.

In that moment, I realized something simple and profound.

My dad lit the path for her and for so many others.

He may never fully know the lasting impact of what he set in motion.

There is a short video I often share about an educator named Mr. Jensen. If you have a few minutes, I suggest watching it. I could watch it over and over again and it still brings me to tears. I have used it with teachers I work alongside, and it always sparks meaningful reflection.

In the story, Mr. Jensen reframes a behavior others saw as a disruption and recognizes it as a gift. He shifts the lens.

Mentorship is not about giving answers. It is about illuminating possibilities.

And as George Couros reminds us, “When you have the spotlight shining on you as a leader, the best thing you can do is turn it around to shine that light onto others.”

When I look back at that fourth grade photo, I realize my teacher could not have known who I was becoming or that she would remain part of my journey for many years to come.

She simply illuminated something in the moment.

My dad did the same.

Mr. Jensen did the same.

So I ask, Who first saw the gift in you?

And whose path are you lighting now?

If you are wondering what that might look like tomorrow, here are three simple ways to begin:

1. Name the Gift.
Tell someone specifically what you see in them. Not a general compliment. A precise strength. A leadership move. A habit that matters. Sometimes people are waiting for the words for what they already carry inside.

2. Create the Moment.
Make space for someone to step forward. Invite them to share an idea. Lead a small piece of a meeting. Present their thinking. Growth happens when belief is paired with opportunity.

3. Follow Up.
Mentorship is not one conversation. It is continuity. Send the email. Write the note. Check in again. The smallest follow up can reinforce belief in ways you may never fully measure.