Getting to know you

Shelley Bridgeman goes on a speed-date with a difference — to match her with a promising young female student she can mentor as part of the YWCA's Future Leaders Programme.

It's 8.40am on a rainy Saturday in a Royal Oak meeting room. Music is playing and we are ordered to walk around until it stops. We then have to stand still and tell the nearest person our middle name. Ugh. It is awkward. Mine is Jane. Hers is Ann. This isn't my idea of fun.

The music continues and 20-something women start walking and eyeing their next prey. The "fun" quickly wears thin and by the time we are instructed to divulge to a stranger why we want to be mentors I have lost my mojo. I tell the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed young woman unfortunate enough to be closest to me that if this is what it involves I don't think I want to be a mentor. Her own enthusiasm visibly drops a notch. Now I'm having a negative effect on the group.

My friend Cheree hates all this as much as I do and we make plans to scarper at the earliest opportunity. She is showing strong signs of not even lasting until morning tea-time and, afraid she'll freak out and flee, I somehow find myself reassuring her that everything will be okay. As it turns out, after the ominous start, things improve greatly by the break.

Nonetheless, over tea and biscuits I march across the room to ask facilitator and programme co-ordinator Kerry-Ann Stanton if group hugs are on the itinerary today. If so, I doubt this programme is for me: group touchy-feely things leave me cold.

In fact, it was the pragmatism, the sheer simplicity, of the YWCA's Future Leaders Programme that had drawn me to it in the first place. Motivated year 10 female students with potential are selected from their respective schools and matched up with mentors - mature women who are keen to help shape the next generation. And with a commitment to telephone or text fortnightly and meet monthly, the requirements aren't exactly onerous on either party.

I'd been looking for a place to volunteer my time and skills for ages. About 15 years ago I'd started the course to be a counsellor on a telephone helpline but the introductory weekend had proven too intense. I'd also considered volunteering at Citizens Advice Bureau but the regular time-slots seemed way too inflexible for a working mother. Someone once suggested I could stuff mail-out envelopes for a women's health group but I hoped to use my life experience and interpersonal skills rather than perform administration tasks.

So I suppose it's hardly surprising I almost bailed from the YWCA's mentoring course; I didn't exactly have a great history with this kind of thing. However, I successfully lasted the day and the next step was to attend a "Meet the Parents" evening at the school from which my young charge would come. It looked like I was about to break with tradition and become a bona fide volunteer.

* * *

That was until I got the phone call from Kerry-Ann Stanton. She called shortly after the mentors' course to tell me she had reservations about my suitability for the programme. My heart sank. Was my career as a mentor about to end before it had begun?

"If you didn't like the games we played the other day, you'll hate what you have do with the girls on match-up night," she explained.

Evidently matching up the girls with the mentors takes the form of a glorified speed-dating event where we all try to assess each other in a matter of minutes. There was no room for uncertainty or self-consciousness. I muttered something about being prepared to embarrass myself if there was a genuine reason for doing so. This must have been a good enough answer because I was back on track with Kerry-Ann. Of course, the fact that the programme is in serious need of mentors may have had something to do with it.

So Cheree and I headed to Henderson High, our allocated school, on the appointed evening for the Meet the Parents session.

We'd entered quite a different world from the one we inhabit every day. Our daughters attend a private girls' school in Epsom with a $12 million aquatic centre that had just been opened by the Governor-General. On the other hand, Henderson High is a decile 4 co-ed public school with, according to its latest ERO report, its own Teen Parenting Unit.

Although diversity in general is celebrated in our culture today, socio-economic diversity is frequently downplayed. I suppose the classic middle class PC response would be to try to gloss over and minimise such disparities, yet surely it's exactly those differences that will enable us to mentor with open minds and to, as is prescribed by the programme, introduce the girls to new and otherwise inaccessible experiences.

Even in an hour, we got a good feel for some of the students, most of whom were aged 14. Waverley and Shelley were sporty and into things like rock-climbing. Others were drawn to drama and literature; Tara and two of her friends have a communal journal called the "Book of Pages" they take turns writing in. Amba has so many pets she's never counted them.

I felt compelled to reassure some of the parents that their daughter wasn't about to be hooked up with anyone unsuitable. I told them that having been police-checked, reference-checked and having attended a day-long course I was now qualified to mentor. In a moment of perfect timing, Kerry-Ann arrived to present me with my certificate. "See," I said, waving the piece of paper around. "I told you so; I'm fully licensed. All I need now is one of your daughters."

Later another potential mentor muscles in on our group and starts chatting to Waverley and Shelley. "What's she doing?" I think. "They're mine. Leave them alone." I'm smiling but I'm trying to glare too. Not since the excruciating days of folk-dancing at intermediate school in the 1970s have I felt this peculiar sense of ownership towards someone I don't even know.

What do you like doing? What do you do for a job? These are the girls' two favourite questions. Their eyes light up and there's definite interest when they hear I'm a journalist. I'm hoping this might give me an edge when it comes to the match-up evening.

* * *

A week later and we're back at the school for 31/2 hours of getting to know each other. At the end of the evening each girl will write down the names of two mentors they'd like and each mentor will, in turn, list two girls. We will be matched as well as possible. I count 11 students and only 9 mentors. Kerry-Ann is unfazed by the uneven numbers.

Most of the evening is devoted to speed-dating. We each have 6 minutes with each student. They are able to ask us 3 questions and vice versa. A lot of the girls are keen to know the craziest/funniest/most embarrassing thing we've ever done. Silently filtering out the answers in our minds is something of a challenge. As their prospective mentors we want to sound fun and hip, yet we don't want to give them entirely uncensored versions either.

I end up using my versatile (since it fitted under crazy, funny and embarrassing) anecdote from 1987 about how I fell down a well at Musket Cove in Fiji and had to be rescued. Most of the students thought it a good story. They didn't need to know it happened around midnight after several hours in The Dollar Bar. One of the girls asks: if you could have any three wishes what would they be? My first answer, "world peace", makes me feel like a beauty pageant contestant. I quickly realise that another worthy answer will peg me as a goody two-shoes. So I say, "a bright orange handbag I saw in Louis Vuitton". This engenders genuine laughter from the student, in contrast to the nervous titters and almost desperate bonhomie that has so far dominated the evening. It is a good moment, a piece of authenticity that stands out from all the manufactured interaction.

The students also want to know our favourites: favourite sport, favourite thing, favourite person. My answers are: tennis, my Michel Tuffery bull made out of corned beef cans and my daughter, Katie - who incidentally, at age 6, frequently quizzes me on my favourite shape (star), Wiggle (Murray) and animal (pony). It is an eye-opener to realise she won't be growing out of this any time soon. According to the Future Leaders' website, the girls "will have a wise and trusted adult friend with whom you can talk and share your dreams. She will keep your confidences." I've never been called wise before - or trusted for that matter. Still, there's a first for everything.

So, did I get my girl, the one I quietly had my eye on since the parents' evening? Yes, I did. However, sadly, our relationship didn't last. Several weeks after our match-up night my mentee decided to withdraw from the programme citing family commitments and scheduling problems. I certainly hope it wasn't anything I said. It's not a common phenomenon. According to Kerry-Ann, almost 90 per cent of the Future Leaders successfully complete the five-year course.

As for me, I await redeployment. It's likely that I'll take over mentoring duties for a student already part-way through the programme. Until then I'm officially a mentor without a mentee. I'm trained, able and willing, yet still waiting for my girl.

THE PROGRAMME

The YWCA Future Leaders Programme provides mentoring, practical support and skill development to young women who show leadership potential. Students, who enter the programme in year 10 and remain for up to five years, attend activity days and leadership workshops. The role of mentors is to provide new experiences and assist with study habits and goal-setting. It is expected that the organised support and encouragement will help the girls achieve better academically and gain in self-confidence.

Participating Auckland schools: Alfriston College, Auckland Girls' Grammar School, Glenfield College, Henderson High School, Hillary Collegiate, Kelston Girls' High School, Onehunga High School, McAuley High School, Massey High School, Mount Roskill Grammar School, Selwyn College, Tamaki College, Waitakere College.

www.futureleaders.org.nz