Passing the Torch for RBG: The Ultimate Mentor
September 18th, 2020: “Ruth Bader Ginsburg Has Died.”
When I heard the news, it hit me like a sucker punch. I knew she was 87. I knew she had fought more than one battle with cancer. I should have seen it coming. But, I was not ready to let her go.
The other day, I read an excellent article on RBG in The New York Times by Sheryl Gay Stolberg. It ends with a quote from a nine-year-old child, Lexie Wackman, who wrote a farewell note to Justice Ginsburg to leave on the steps of the Supreme Court:
“Ruth,” she wrote, dispensing with the customary honorific and indulging in age-appropriate creative spelling, “I always dreamd of being an actavist like you. I read your book many times and my inspiration for you never changed. I thought you could NEVER die.”
Well said, Lexie. The thing is, especially now, in this year of seismic upheaval, global pandemic, divisive politics, and terrible personal loss, we need our Superheroes.
The longest-serving woman on the Supreme Court earned that status through her tireless fight for gender equality and her incendiary dissents.
Through many personal stories that have been shared by former clerks both before and after her death, it’s clear that RBG was also a beloved friend and mentor. She understood the tremendous power of offering guidance from a place of personal experience. She also seems to have understood the importance of “pathmarking” for those who will follow.
As Justice Ginsburg herself said: “I surely would not be in this room today without the determined efforts of men and women who kept dreams alive.”
And surely, I would not be where I am today if RBG had not changed the course of American history.
I think about this a lot. I’m the CMO of a global learning company; I also have two teenage daughters. I sometimes struggle to balance grit with grace, professional with personal, sense with sensibility. Lately, working from home has really highlighted that juggling act. I think about how my actions, my work, and my words are a legacy for my daughters.
Throughout my life, I’ve come to see we are better together. I’ve talked about the importance of mentors before, and I wanted to share a recent experience I had with one of mine. Prior to my CMO role at Skillsoft, I served as the CMO of IBM Watson. When The Weather Company was acquired by IBM, I had the opportunity to travel to the UK for the company’s World of Watson event. The host was Caroline Taylor, then CMO for IBM Global Markets. She was awe-inspiring as she kicked off the event and gave the opening address. Fast forward two months, and I once again came face-to-face with Caroline, this time as she spoke to me and several of my colleagues from newly acquired companies about how to navigate the behemoth that is IBM. I timidly reached out to my acquisition liaison and asked her if she would make an introduction. Carol did more than that; she asked Caroline to serve as my mentor. This seemingly simple act was life changing.
I spoke with Caroline the other day. I’ve long since left IBM and she retired from the company at the end of last year, but we stay in touch — and I needed her guidance. While our Internet connection was poor, we still managed to have an insightful conversation and it was good to see her face — albeit virtually. I asked her a question I’ve been asked numerous times since I joined Skillsoft, and frankly, one I’ve been grappling with:
“How do you move an organization through significant change, especially as people are starting to fatigue?”
She had this to say:
• Stay relentlessly positive. Remind people of the “why,” and demonstrate accomplishments already made.
• Employ the “nudge” theory. The goal is to get people to move towards something, but to do so, they have to feel invested.
• Look at the change through their eyes. Understand what people might be giving up. Change is uncomfortable, and you need to stay empathetic.
Perhaps the most important lesson is that you can’t force massive amounts of change without causing massive fatigue. Instead, consider making micro-improvements: small changes that when combined yield massive results. Or, as Justice Ginsburg put it, sometimes “Real change, enduring change, happens one step at a time.”
RBG’s treasured friendship with Justice Antonin Scalia is a testament to her commitment to enduring change, even when that means working “across the aisle.” As a mentor, it’s also important to work “across generations.” Justice Ginsburg was a bridge-builder in the best sense of the word; seeking to reveal points of connection despite differences of opinion. She was also insightful enough to employ selective listening (and a sense of humor) on occasion as she stayed the course for justice amidst crushing opposition: “It helps sometimes to be a little deaf.”
So, I leave you with this: If you don’t have a mentor, find one — or ask for help finding one. I can only hope you will benefit from yours as much as I’ve benefitted from mine. And, if you have already “marked the path,” reach out and invite someone to learn from what you have experienced. I think RBG would approve: “To make life a little better for people less fortunate than you, that’s what I think a meaningful life is. One lives not just for oneself but for one’s community.”
We can never fill her shoes. But by lifting each other up, we can follow in her footsteps.
