Contemplating the passing of Anita Roddick and how she used her power for the good of the planet brought to mind a post I wrote recently for American Small Business.  So many women talk about the importance of having female mentors; I don’t know if my situation is unusual, but my strongest mentors have been men.  Here’s the story I shared on ASB:

“I was wondering if I might ask you for a letter of recommendation to
take with me.” I sat fidgeting in the chair, and my eyes dropped to the
floor. Nerves were winning out over chutzpah.

“No, you may not,” was the reply.  I was stunned.

It was 1987, my last day as Housing Director for the Aspen Music
Festival, and I had worked my derriere off for 5 months, dealing with
record-setting housing requests, city council meetings and opening a
defunct Red Roof Inn just to squeeze everyone in. I was determined not
to leave the job in the disarray I’d found it, and had even created an
operations manual for the next director. I’d done it all under the
patient and wise guidance of William Vickery, the assistant dean at the school.  Now, I thought, Bill was turning against me.  I was dumbstruck.

“Look at me,” Bill said. I looked up. “I will never give you a letter
to take with you, because in my estimation, it’s worthless. If,
however, you are in need of a specific recommendation for a specific
position, I will gladly write one. All you need to do is ask. You need
to highlight specific gifts for specific jobs, and I’ll help you do
that.”

Bill was good to his word. I can count the times I needed his help on
one hand, but each letter was written with such esteem, I could have
gained early entry at the pearly gates.

Bill taught me that it’s a waste of energy to go around throwing out
generalizations for people. He wizened me to seek individuals out who
really wanted to make a difference, and help those like he helped me.

He showed everyone that he wasn’t interested in glory, only lasting
change. People gasped out loud when he left as Director for the
National Endowment for the Arts to become Executive Director of the
Arkansas Symphony (what – no ego?). But in a few short years, he’d
tripled the budget of an orchestra during a time other symphonies were
going bankrupt, and he touched the hearts of many children with the
magic of music.

No matter where I was, if I found out Bill was going to be in town, I’d
drop him a line. Numerous times, when he’d had a chance to dine with
Itzhak Perlman or the CEO of Lincoln Center, he’d chosen to hang out
with me. He was genuinely interested in what I was doing, and offered
wisdom I carry with me to this very day.

I was thinking about Bill this weekend, realizing that 
I hadn’t heard from him in about a year. I went online to track him
down and found I was a little late. William Vickery, Jr., former
assistant dean to the Aspen Music Festival, director of the National
Endowment of the Arts, CEO of the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, and
Director of the Arkansas Symphony, died in October 2006 of heart
failure. He was 57 years old.

I am terribly sad that Bill is gone, sad for all those who knew him and
sad for all who didn’t. But I’m happy that whenever I got the chance, I
told Bill how grateful I was, and never ended a conversation or letter
without saying, “Thank you.”

Now, my thank you’s will come in the form of helping others.  Pay it forward.

Mentors and teachers change the very shape of our lives.  Have you expressed your gratitude lately?