Mentoring Resources

Mentoring: Reaching Out, Giving Back

By Diane Molvig

When Susan Rosenberg was a first-year law student back in 1981, she was invited to shadow Wisconsin Supreme Court Justice Shirley Abrahamson for a day. Understandably, Rosenberg was a bit overwhelmed by the experience. At the end of the day, she sat down across the desk from Abrahamson and posed a couple of questions. "I asked, 'Why are you doing this? How can you afford to spend an entire day with me?,'" Rosenberg recalls. "She looked at me and said, 'Because I'm investing in the future. Someday you'll do this for someone else.'"

True to Abrahamson's prediction, today Rosenberg often finds herself on the other side of the desk, offering guidance or sharing insights, whether in her capacity as an experienced lawyer or as president of the Milwaukee-based Association for Women Lawyers, one of the professional organizations in Wisconsin that actively fosters mentoring among attorneys.

The concept of investing in the future, as Abrahamson put it, is at the core of what mentoring is about. A mentor is "an experienced and trusted friend and adviser," according to Webster's. Some would include additional roles: counselor, guide, confidant or teacher. Whatever the combination may be, mentoring involves the more experienced reaching out to the less experienced. The connection might last for a day or several years.

"The idea is to help new lawyers and law students to understand what they need to know to be not only successful, but also comfortable in the profession," says Margadette Demet, who chaired the Bridge the Gap Committee that created the State Bar's Mentor Program in 1991. "I see mentoring as very important because we have glamorized some professions so much without giving students a picture of what it's really like out there."

Where do new Wisconsin lawyers, or lawyers-to-be, find their mentors? Some link up through formal programs, while others find mentors on their own. Whatever the derivation of the relationship, "mentoring is not hand-holding, it's hands on," points out Milwaukee attorney Leonard Loeb, who was a key force behind founding the Wisconsin chapters of the American Inns of Court, another mentoring organization. "New lawyers need access to senior lawyers, so that they don't feel adrift ... and believe it or not, it's a two-way street. When you teach, you learn more than you teach."

A sense of camaraderie

Years ago, mentoring in the legal profession happened naturally, says Milwaukee attorney John DeStefanis. In 1975, right out of law school, he and a former classmate set up their practice in a downtown Milwaukee office building that housed a number of lawyers. "They all mentored us," DeStefanis says. "We got advice and forms, used their books. In those days, a young lawyer could almost always approach an older lawyer and be warmly received, in my experience. I've never forgotten that, and I think that's one of the reasons I was motivated to become part of the State Bar's Mentor Program."

Such programs are vital in today's environment, says DeStefanis. "When I started practicing 22 years ago, I think there was more collegiality among lawyers," he explains. "That's not to say that older lawyers are not receptive to younger lawyers today. But because of the increased competition and the pressure to get billable hours and to use time productively, I think a lot of younger lawyers might be afraid to approach an older lawyer."

"When you approach a stranger and say, 'I'm a lawyer, too,' you're not certain there's a willingness to talk to you," agrees Milwaukee attorney Heidi Szatmary, one of DeStefanis's mentees. "So you feel uncomfortable. But the mentoring relationship fosters a sense of camaraderie, of sharing in a community, so that we're all getting better as lawyers."

Szatmary, who's been out of law school for two years, calls on DeStefanis for advice on legal questions or career direction. They both share an interest in pro bono work, "so he's been able to point me to resources or suggest ideas for my pro bono work that I might not have known about because I'm just getting my feet wet," Szatmary says.

Rod Rogahn, DeStefanis's other mentee, has been out of law school slightly more than a year. Besides his connection with DeStefanis, Rogahn also receives mentoring within his law firm, which many of his young colleagues aren't fortunate enough to have, he points out. "I know some who are in practice with others, but they don't necessarily feel they have someone to turn to," Rogahn says. "It's like that old adage about being in a marriage, but still feeling alone."

Rogahn turns to DeStefanis for input about cases or legal issues. "It's not as though I expect a direct answer," Rogahn says. "But he'll give me a sense of it and tell me where to go to find specific answers." Having a mentor is "like having an old friend out there," Rogahn adds. "And that helps your confidence, too."

Survival skills training

Confidence building also has been a key benefit for Madison attorney Anne Applegate-Scott in her mentoring relationship with Tom Dixon, director of training and development for the State Public Defender's office. She remembers an episode a few years ago when she took a private bar assignment from the SPD that seemed headed to a jury trial. She had never done a jury trial before. "So I called Tom one Saturday," she recalls, "and asked if I could pick his brain for an hour."

The hour stretched to three hours, during which "he showed me no signs of flagging interest," Applegate-Scott says. Dixon coached her on how to cross-examine police officers, how to get the best information from her witnesses, and what to do in response to the defense attorney's tactics. "I got my trial in miniature right there in his dining room," she says. "That kind of help is just invaluable. It gave me not only information but the confidence to represent my client well."

That was one occasion out of many when Applegate-Scott has turned to her mentor for advice ­ and not only about the law per se. She also looks to Dixon for guidance on "how to be a whole person and practice law at the same time," she says. The two first got to know each other about four years ago, when she was a law student volunteering at the Wisconsin Coalition for Advocacy, where he was a staff attorney.

Because Dixon has been there for her, Applegate-Scott says she's "survived with minimal scars a lot of situations that I think would have devastated other young lawyers." What's more, the relationship has "evolved into a very nice friendship," adds Applegate-Scott, who just had her first child. "Tom recently made a joke to an acquaintance of mine that he was looking forward to being a vicarious grandfather. But I think of him more like a big brother."

Like Applegate-Scott, Oshkosh attorney Alyson Zierdt believes mentors can be instrumental in getting new lawyers through some of the early tests and traumas. "You'd probably find your way eventually," she points out, "but I think it would be harder and take longer."

Zierdt names Milwaukee lawyer Michael Wherry as the primary mentor in her career. They met through local bar functions very early in her career. "He recommended me for a committee," Zierdt recalls, "and encouraged me, as a professional colleague, to get involved in bar activities."

A few years later, Zierdt went to work at Wherry's firm, and he was designated as her official in-house mentor. "The big thing I found so valuable," Zierdt says, "was that I never felt like we were anything other than peers. And of course we weren't peers. He'd been in practice for 20-some years; I'd been in practice for five years. But he never made me feel like I was a new, dumb lawyer who didn't know what I was doing. He respected my opinion, and we had a lot of lively debates because I didn't always agree with his opinion."

Wherry saw to it that Zierdt got work assignments that helped her polish her skills and grow as a lawyer. But it amounted to more than being a helpful boss or coworker. As a mentor, Wherry was "someone I could count on to be an advocate for me in the firm," Zierdt says. "The other thing Mike did for me was to make me believe that I could be as good a lawyer as he."

Now that Zierdt is practicing in Oshkosh and Wherry is in Milwaukee, they don't have as frequent contact as they did when they were down the hall from each other. But they remain in touch by phone and get together whenever they land in the same city. Still, Zierdt says she doesn't call on Wherry for advice as much as she used to. And perhaps that's for the best, she adds. One of the essential truths about mentoring is that eventually the relationship has to move on.

"As long as your mentor is there, it's kind of your crutch," Zierdt explains. "You always know you have that cushion behind you, and you second-guess yourself. In the back of my mind was always the thought that Mike would give me work. I didn't feel the pressure to be my own rainmaker. Coming in here (the Oshkosh firm), I walked into the proverbial clean slate. I've had to build a litigation practice from scratch, and I've been amazed at my own skills."

"When I was getting ready to leave Davis and Kuelthau (her former Milwaukee firm)," Zierdt adds, "one of the secretaries said to me, 'Now you're going to be Mike Wherry.' I thought it was funny, but true in a way, too."

Opening doors

William Boulware, now in his third year as a corporate counsel for the Ho-Chunk Nation, also recognizes the cycles that mentoring relationships pass through. He has occasional contact with his three mentors ­ Madison attorney Brian Butler, Dane County assistant district attorney Barbara Franks and former Texas judge Thomas Gibbs ­ but not as often as he once did, primarily because none of his mentors practice in Boulware's primary area: Indian law. Still, he describes all three of his mentors as major forces in guiding him during law school and starting out as a lawyer.

His connection with Gibbs goes back to Boulware's days of clerking at a Houston law firm. Gibbs had stepped down from the bench and come to work for the same firm. "We just clicked very easily," Boulware notes. "He kept in touch with me all through law school, sending me articles, critiquing my skills."

While a law student at the University of Wisconsin, Boulware met Butler at a State Bar function cosponsored by the law school. "He saw my name on the program and noticed I was a Dartmouth alum," Boulware says. "He's also a Dartmouth alum, so he took me under his wing. He was instrumental in providing me information and plugging me into the system."

As for Franks, whom Boulware met through a minority lawyers' group, Boulware credits her with letting him tag along in family court, familiarizing him with "the nuances of how a court works," he says. What's more, she helped "in keeping me sane and in working through a lot of issues during law school," he adds.

Now Boulware is ready to pass on the favors others extended to him. He recently signed up as a mentor with the State Bar's Mentor Program, plus, through his work, he connects with young people who want to be lawyers someday. "The shoe is definitely on the other foot," he says.

Anne Ertel-Sawasky remembers numerous occasions when she felt her mentor wasn't doing her any favors at all. "I can remember many times when he gave me projects to do that made me want to tear my hair out," she says. "And yet, after I finished them, I'd look back and say, 'Wow, I really grew doing that. I learned a lot.'"

Ertel-Sawasky met her mentor, Ken Podell, 10 years ago when she graduated from law school and took a job as general counsel at Aid Association for Lutherans (AAL), an Appleton-based insurance company. Podell was her supervisor. Although Podell constantly challenged her, Ertel-Sawasky says he didn't leave her floundering on her own. "His door was always open," she notes. "I don't remember one time in 10 years that I went in and asked him a question that he didn't put aside everything and sit down and explain things to me."

Equally important, Podell let Ertel-Sawasky challenge him. She felt free to ask why, to push him to explain his position and to let him know when she didn't agree. "That wasn't a threat to him," Ertel-Sawasky explains. "I think he viewed it as good for my development, to hone my legal thinking, and good for him because I might think of something he'd overlooked."

Last February Ertel-Sawasky left AAL to set up her own law practice. She still calls Podell now and then with a question, and he's now one of her clients. "I don't think I would have developed the kind of legal skills I have if he hadn't been there for me," she says. "Without Ken's mentoring, I never would have grown into the attorney I am today and taken this major step in my career."

Feeling connected

Madison attorney Jordan Loeb grew up with a "built-in mentor," he says, namely his father, Milwaukee lawyer Leonard Loeb. The younger Loeb belongs to the Madison chapter of the American Inns of Court, the organization his father helped bring to Wisconsin. "Just going to the monthly meetings is mentoring," he explains. "We have a presentation, there's a discussion afterwards, and we adjourn for dinner. That in and of itself I consider to be a valuable mentoring system."

In addition, the Madison chapter pairs new lawyers or law students with more experienced attorneys for one-on-one mentoring. That's how Loeb became linked with his second mentor, Madison attorney and State Bar president-elect Susan Steingass. They first were paired when Loeb was a third-year law student four years ago, and now recently have been rematched as mentor and mentee for the coming year. Looking back on the first time around, Loeb says, "The value in it to me was just knowing I had that connection. She's a very well-rounded person who has life and law working in balance, and she was able to give me encouragement that way."

"The other thing," he adds, "was that when I showed up at the Inns of Court meeting as a third-year law student, intimidated, wearing the same suit every time because it was the only suit I owned, with all these good, flashy lawyers around, there was someone there who greeted me and introduced me to other lawyers. Having her say hello to me in front of a bunch of lawyers was like a confirmation that I existed."

Now that he and Steingass are matched again for the coming year, Loeb says, "I don't have an agenda, but I imagine I will discuss with her how my career is going, compare notes with the beginning of her career, ask her what she thinks the good opportunities in law are right now. Who knows?"

Like Loeb, Milwaukee lawyer Sheila Parrish-Spence had her father, former Milwaukee County Circuit Court judge Clarence Parrish, as her first mentor. "He had notebooks of how to do things, what to look for," Parrish-Spence says. For instance, "if you have a guardianship case, these are the questions you should ask. Or if the other lawyer doesn't ask for this, you should immediately move to dismiss. They were the things he had to learn the hard way because no one would help him."

"I'll never forget," she adds, "just before he died [in 1992], he said, 'You can have my scales of justice, my judge statutes, and I want you to go into the garage and take all those notebooks.' Now I have them in my office. They're precious; I can look up anything."

Parrish-Spence says her father also mentored her through role plays of court proceedings, and he was only a phone call away when she needed information or advice. Today, she says she doesn't have one exclusive mentor, but the two Inns of Court chapters in Milwaukee that she belongs to fulfill many of the same mentoring functions her father once did. "Right now it's group mentoring," she explains. "But through this group I know whom to call when I need one-on-one." Today Parrish-Spence also mentors others, whether through connections at the Inns of Court, the National Association of Black Women Attorneys (for which she's the North-Central region's director) or the Wisconsin Association of Minority Lawyers.

"The important thing to remember about mentoring," Parrish-Spence says, "is that none of us got where we are alone. We all need to be helped, and we all need to give help. I think that's the right thing to do."

Dianne Molvig operates Access Information Service, a Madison research, writing and editing service. She is a frequent contributor to area publications.

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