Mentorship Isn’t Always a Program - It’s a Moment
THe BRIDGE - July 13, 2025 It was a Tuesday. Lunchtime. I was halfway through a Trader Joe’s salad in the staff lounge when I heard it: “Wait, what...
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THe BRIDGE - July 13, 2025
It was a Tuesday. Lunchtime. I was halfway through a Trader Joe’s salad in the staff lounge when I heard it:
“Wait, what the what? How did I not know this was coming?”
I glanced up from my laptop to see a colleague staring at her screen like it had personally betrayed her.
Turns out she had just logged into Kahoot for the first time since last spring and was met with a completely new interface.
Her plan to kick off a fun, low-stakes review game had been derailed by a surprise redesign.
She looked genuinely rattled. “I checked the URL twice—I thought I clicked the wrong thing.”
I smiled from across the room, right where I was standing next to the copier. “Yeah,” I said. “Kahoot dropped a bunch of updates over the summer.
It’s basically Kahoot 2.0 now.”
Her eyes widened. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
I shrugged and offered the line that’s become a mantra in my head:“The only thing that’s guaranteed in edtech is change.”
She gave a small, exhausted laugh. And in that moment, a door opened—not just for her to get some support, but for me to offer it without making it weird.
I had been the one who introduced her to Kahoot last spring, after returning from a tech conference full of new ideas.
I didn’t think of myself as a mentor then—I was just sharing something I loved.
But in that lunchroom moment, I saw how overwhelming it can feel to walk into your classroom with a plan… and realize the tools you thought you understood have shifted beneath you.
So, I leaned in. “You want help figuring it out after school?”
She nodded. “Honestly? Yeah.”
Later that day, she popped into my room with her laptop. I walked her through the updates, but here’s the best part: she ended up figuring most of it out herself. She just needed someone to help her steady the ship until she could take the wheel again.
That’s when I realized something:
Mentorship isn’t about being an expert. It’s not a program or a title. It’s about presence. It’s about offering calm in the storm.
And sometimes, it’s about knowing when to smile from across the room and say, “Yep, it changed. You’ve got this. But I’ve got you.”
4 Ways to Make Mentorship Happen (Without Making It Weird)
Whether you’re the one offering support or needing it, here are a few low-pressure ways to build those mentorship moments into the everyday:
- Offer “micro-mentorship” moments
You don’t need to sign up for anything formal. A single encouraging comment or helpful tip can go a long way.
Keep your eyes open for those moments—especially when someone looks overwhelmed, confused, or just plain over it. - Be generous with your experiences (not just your expertise)
Mentorship isn’t just about having answers—it’s about sharing stories. “This happened to me too” can be just as powerful as “Here’s how to fix it.” - Invite collaboration instead of offering correction
Instead of saying, “You should try…” try, “Want to figure this out together?” It keeps the vibe casual and mutual, not hierarchical. - Normalize asking for help
If you want to create a culture of support, model it. Ask questions. Say when you’re stuck. Let others see that even “tech-savvy” or “veteran” educators don’t always know the answer—and that’s okay.
Seize the Moment
I didn’t set out to be a mentor that day. But that lunchroom moment reminded me that the best mentorship doesn’t come from checklists or PD calendars.
It comes from being human. From showing up. From sitting next to someone (literally or figuratively) and saying, “I’ve been there. Let’s figure it out.”
Because mentorship isn’t a program.
It’s a moment.
And we all have the power to create one.
WEEKLY MENTORSHIP MOCKTAIL RECIPE
The Reflective Ripple
The Reflective Ripple is a mentorship mocktail for the quiet thinker who leads with intention and insight.
This blend is calm, curious, and deeply present, helping others see themselves and their work with new clarity.
It’s a gentle reminder that small, thoughtful moments can create lasting waves.
