Sweaty palms, nervous twitters, shared whispers with family and friends—I wondered what he or she would be like.
No, this isn’t the recounting of a blind date with a potential love interest. But, in a sense, it was a first date—just not a romantic one. It was my first reverse mentoring encounter with my mentee.
He was a Dean—a person with clout at a significant university, aiming to reach new heights in delivering its EDI (Equality, Diversity, and Inclusion) strategy. At first glance, he seemed the perfect candidate: white, middle-class, male, and steeped in privilege. An Englishman and a father, he appeared to be the opposite of me—a Black British woman with a tapestry of intersectional characteristics.
Yet here we were, sharing the same space at the university, both striving to create the best environment for our students. What started as a tentative meeting evolved into a profound experience, transforming us both in ways we never imagined. It opened doors to leadership for me and, in his own words, led him toward “inclusive, humble leadership.”
This wasn’t just another professional relationship—it was an experiment in vulnerability and growth. The dynamic of reverse mentoring meant I was the expert, guiding someone who represented much of what institutional power looked like—someone who didn’t often need to navigate spaces where he was now the was the listener, the observer of my truth and as a result a beacon of accelerated action.
But the outcomes spoke for themselves. A new Centre of Diversity and Innovation—the first of its kind—rose within the library, dedicated to celebrating and amplifying the voices of Black and ethnic minority communities. The outdated term “BAME” (Black, Asian, and Minority Ethnic) was replaced with a more thoughtful and humanising “People, Diversity, and Equality” framework. Meeting spaces were reimagined, and our dual-perspective presentations on reverse mentoring were met with open arms and repeat invitations to talk about our experiences and good practice.
How did we achieve this? The process was just as important as the outcome. Reverse mentoring offered a canvas for creative and courageous conversations. It was a brave space, not just a safe one. When difficult confrontations arose, the guiding framework—aptly named pRAISE (Students with protected characteristics reverse mentor university staff )—provided a way to maintain autonomy while allowing room for reflection.
There’s a song that says, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” This positive spin encapsulates our journey—the courage, the actions, and the final meeting as mentee and mentor.
Writing this blog feels like looking back through a window into the past. It may seem like many moons ago since our first encounter, but the experience still echoes in the visible landscape of my university. My mentee assures me that he will always consider himself my mentee as he climbs higher up the ladder.
Our story is a reminder that sometimes the most impactful change starts with an unexpected “first date”—one that leads not to romance, but to organisational transformation, understanding, and lasting social impact dare I say.
I was once asked what made my reverse mentoring an impactful one and not a tick box activity, I must admit without the effective guidance of the then Reverse mentoring practitioner, it could have easily been just that.