I have an interesting personality type: I am incredibly stubborn, yet I love being mentored. Whether by chance, or driven by intuition, I am privileged to have been the mentee to several incredible scientists throughout my academic career. I say academic because at the prime age of 29 I am still technically a student—and perhaps I will never leave the world of academia. As I transitioned from graduate student to postdoctoral student, I have also transitioned from mentee to mentor.
I recently discovered my love of mentoring students who listen (and my disdain for mentoring those who do not). Today, we explore how mentorship has shaped my life and how I navigated the bumpy road to becoming a mentor.
In third grade, my father mentioned he got paid to go to school. As an eight-year-old who attended school for free, I thought school as a career was very cool. As my first academic mentor, my dad clarified the easiest way to become a paid student was through science, which was fine because I loved science class. Throughout elementary and middle school, I considered the type of science I would study: I first wanted to be a meteorologist, then an entomologist. Instead, I landed on biochemistry, where I could explore the intricate details of human biology through chemical interactions. This decision gave me access to mentors who shaped me into the scientist and person I am today.
It’s important we circle back to my difficult, or unique, personality type: an authority-averse student constantly seeking an elder’s advice. This personality type corresponds to the Myers-Briggs ENTJ1 and Enneagram 8 “The Challenger”2. I am confident, strategic, and hardworking, but struggle with being stubborn, impatient, and blunt. I fear being controlled or manipulated and have an intense craving to be impactful. I find unfairness to be intolerable and I’m not afraid to tell you about it. Attempting to mentor my personality type is not for the faint of heart, and yet, I’ve had some of the most incredible mentors. For a long time, I thought this was by chance, but now I think it was guided by intuition—and my drive to find the other ENTJs in the world.
If you’ve worked in higher education, it’s no surprise ENTJs are attracted to becoming scientific primary investigators (PIs). PIs get to work independently on interesting projects, and their job description is a strange conglomeration of CEO, entrepreneur, project manager, and consultant (all job types recommended to ENTJs). PIs need to be confident, strong-willed, and inspiring as leaders in their fields, but they also need to remain stubborn, impatient, and somewhat ruthless in proposing projects, defending results, and handling rejection.
Reflecting on my journey as a mentee, I can now identify my favorite and most impactful mentors may have also been ENTJs. I was seeking mentors who could communicate in ways I understood: blunt, direct, and goal-oriented, with little tolerance for excuses. Leaders who were willing to push me, challenge my views, set firm boundaries for success, and remain unreactive to emotional turbulence. I am thankful to have found mentors who could handle my challenging learning style, mentors who perhaps saw themselves in me and guided me towards a successful career. They pushed me to consider new hypotheses, held space and grace for my failures, and demanded very high standards, which was exactly what I needed to be successful.
Now that I am transitioning from mentee to mentor, I acknowledge that not everyone operates the same way as me. I have mentored a few students who I see myself in: I know what motivates them, how to communicate with and challenge them, and I find myself cheering on their successes. These students are easy to mentor.
I have also mentored students whose personality types are very different from mine, and I struggle to effectively advise these students. I am easily frustrated when these students ignore my advice, are passively taken advantage of, or make overly emotional decisions. I see how my blunt communication style can be misinterpreted, leading my mentees to shy away.
With every opportunity to mentor, I am learning to assess before I act. I want to impact their lives and careers the way my mentors impacted me, but I also acknowledge I might not be their mentor. I might just be a stepping stone on their journey to find their match—someone who accentuates their strengths and strengthens their weaknesses, who pushes them exactly the way they need to be pushed.
As I continue to find my path, I know mentorship will remain an important driver of my professional life. I know I’ll be a lifelong mentee. But I hope to better define who I am as a mentor. If I decide to stay in academia, a career that satisfies my drive to become a CEO-Entrepreneur-Consultant-Project Manager, I will learn how to better support the students who aren’t motivated how I am and communicate how I do.
And perhaps that’s the true mark of a good mentor: someone who quickly identifies what works for a student and pushes them in the way that is right for them. A leader who sets their preferences aside for the benefit of the mentee. Perhaps my favorite mentors aren’t ENTJs at all, but rather flexible, intelligent, patient leaders who saw the best in me.
I hope to find out as I continue on my path towards successful mentorship.
(Even though arguing with fellow ENTJs may remain my preference.)
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