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Mentoring: Reaching Out, Giving Back

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.

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

"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.