Eighth grade wasn’t the first time I had been kicked out of class… nor would it be my last. While many of my trips to the principal’s office were well deserved, this one (in my opinion) wasn’t. That said, I’m glad it happened. Like many things in life, it was a blessing in disguise.

It started when we were asked to pick a student from the class ahead of us that we admired. Someone we considered to be a positive role model that we could emulate… a mentor of sorts.

I didn’t know at the time, but the word “Mentor” comes from Greek mythology. When Odysseus left for the Trojan War, he put his friend Mentor in charge of his palace and his son, Telemachus. These days “mentor” typically refers to a trusted counselor or teacher… an experienced person who provides guidance.

Back to the assignment… my classmates had little trouble picking a mentor. Most chose the likely suspects… popular kids, cheerleaders, athletes, members of student council, and so on.

Before long, everyone but me had made their decision. Unable to think of a single person I wanted to emulate, I raised my hand. “What happens if you can’t think of a mentor?” My simple question created quite a stir.

“Mr. McMillan, I’m certain if you try… and think… you can come up with one,” my teacher responded.

The following day, as my classmates worked on the project, my teacher approached my desk and asked, “Who’s your mentor?”

“I don’t have one yet.”

“Do you think this is a joke?”

“No.”

“Then pick a mentor right now and get to work.”

“Isn’t everyone a mentor?” I asked.

“Don’t push your luck… if you don’t do the assignment, you’ll receive an F!”

On day three, as my peers outlined how they were going to emulate their mentors, I was still thinking about who mine might be.

“Mr. McMillan… who’s your mentor? And don’t tell me you’re still thinking.”

“Pat Holden,” I announced.

With this answer, the class broke into hysterical laughter and my teacher walked over, pulled me from my desk, and marched me to the principal’s office. On the way there, I tried to explain my choice but couldn’t get a word in edgewise. You see, Pat wasn’t a popular kid. In fact, he was a special needs student and many people made fun of him. I wasn’t one of those people.

After my teacher explained the situation to the principal, he made it clear that I was not welcome back in his classroom. After he left, the principal asked me about my choice.

“I picked Pat because he is always nice to people—everyone—even to those that make fun of him. In spite of his challenges, he always does his best and never gives up.”

Since the principal remained silent, I continued, “And it’s not because I didn’t try or think… I did both and that’s when I realized that everyone is a mentor. I’ve learned as much from people I don’t want to emulate as those I do… I see every person as a mentor. But I also knew I needed to pick one person for the assignment. So rather than picking an obvious person, I picked Pat… and I don’t regret it. If more people were like him in this school… no, this world would be a better place. Pat is a great mentor… he sets examples for everyone to emulate.”

My principal didn’t know what to say. I’m certain he had planned to punish me until he realized my sincerity and heard my side of the story. To his credit, he listened and reflected on my words… and because he did, he had a dilemma. The semester was nearly over and he couldn’t send me back to class. Nor did he want me sitting in his office every day. He left for several minutes and then returned with his solution, “Michael, you’re going to finish the semester in the library… with Miss Martin.”

Miss Martin was an elderly woman who never married. In her younger days, she had taught elementary classes but as she neared retirement, she became our school librarian. As a kid, I thought she looked mean in her cat-eye glasses and slight mustache. In addition, she was very quiet and made little eye contact… put all these things together and it seemed somewhat scary. To the best of my recollection, nobody really knew what to make of her. She wasn’t popular. Nor was she controversial… she was just an elderly librarian waiting to retire. In fact, outside of a library-related question, I don’t recall seeing anyone ever talk to her.

On my first day with Miss Martin, I sat in the back of the library near the window and sketched in a notebook that someone had left behind. Other than saying hello to each other, we didn’t speak a word.

The second day, I slept.

The third day, I was staring out the window when I suddenly realized Miss Martin was standing next to me. As I broke from my spell, she said in a quiet voice, “Excuse me, Michael… how are you today?”

“Fine, thank you.”

She smiled a sincere smile and made direct eye contact. Then she continued in an almost shy manner, “Since you have another hour here and you’re surrounded by all these books, would you like to read something?”

“Um… I guess,” I answered, not knowing what else to say.

“Well, what topics interest you?”

“I’m not really sure… actually I’m interested in a lot of things.”

And so it began. Before long she was showing me around the library, sharing some of her favorite sections, books… and personal stories. The sting of being kicked out of class had disappeared… it had been replaced by something better. Far from a punishment, I actually looked forward to going to the library and spending time with Miss Martin.

She wasn’t mean, ugly or scary at all—in fact, she was beautiful. Mostly she confirmed what I already knew… everyone is a mentor. She and Pat just happened to be great ones. I can’t say for certain, but I believe Odysseus would agree. In the end… right, wrong or indifferent… we are all mentors and mentees.