By Terell St. John

I’ve never felt deep down inside of me that I was ever shy or timid. However, everyone one around me would describe me as such. I must admit at times I am unfriendly and come off as uncaring, and the truth is most times I am. When I began my journey at Kingsborough Community College, I was this way and I can now say that being here has changed me for the better.

I used to think that having friends and people I could look up to and those who could look up to me was pointless. I sometimes would feel like I couldn’t trust anyone.  Not only that, but that friendship and mentorship relationships would take away from me pursuing my life journey. I was wrong.

I am learning everyday how big the world is, and that if you want to make an imprint on the greater society that you have to think big: in your relationship, in your work, and in every aspect of your life.

The truth is we are a community, a community of our universe, planet, world, country, state, borough, college, work, family and friends. No man is an island, and no man knows all truth. We all rely on each to carry each other’s burdens, to show love towards each other, because at the end of the day, year, life, we are all that we have.

People show us new things, some exciting and some boring. People allow us to explore ourselves and our values both good and bad. People test our patience everyday yet gives us hope to believe in our darkest moments. No amount of success can heal a broken heart and a lonely soul. I appreciate being a light to people who need that guidance because I have in the past needed a light.

I have needed a shoulder to lean on when times were bad. I have needed a friend who knew all my secrets and all my fears to help me make decisions that would benefit me. The only way that I can thank the universe for all the opportunities and doors that have been pried open for me, is to return the favor. That’s why I have to share that light because ultimately we are all responsible for each other and our futures. If our future generation is a corrupt one and instead of a utopia, we live in a dystopia, we would only have ourselves to blame.

 

Terell St. John is a second semester Peer Mentor in the Opening Doors Learning Communities at Kingsborough Community College.

By George J. Hill

 

I always tell the peer mentors that I work with “If you truly help just one student this semester, I consider that a success.”

My peer mentors are charged with helping 15-25 first semester students connect with the campus programs, activities, and services, and I want them to work as hard as they can to reach every student they are assigned to. I want my peer mentors to make an effort to reach every one of their students. When I was an RA, the Director of Residence Life used to say “I don’t want any students slipping through the cracks,” and now that I am in a position where I supervise a staff of peer mentors, I feel the same way: I don’t want any students slipping through the cracks.

As a peer mentor, you’re in a great position to help the students who are in danger of disappearing down one of those cracks. The best peer mentors learn how to spot them and grab them before they go too far.

See, there are students who will be fine with just a few kind words, and you don’t need to do much to reach them beyond that. Then, there are the students who take a bit more effort, the students who you have to chase a bit. I was one of those.

My freshman year was, quite frankly, a disaster. I went off to a small liberal arts college thinking that it would be very much like high school. I even went to a college where a few of my high school friends were going, and I thought things would be the same as they had been in high school. Of course, my friends quickly went off and made new friends. They got involved in clubs and activities. I saw them less and less. I didn’t really make new friends of my own, because I didn’t really fit the campus culture. I went to events, but never really talked to anyone. As the semester went on, I spent more and more time in my dorm room. I’d get up, go to class, and go back to my dorm room. I was not engaged with the college community, and nobody at that school cared when I left the following year.

My sophomore year, I transferred to another small liberal arts college. Again, I had one or two friends on campus, and again, I thought I’d really mostly hang out with them. I wasn’t really interested in joining clubs or activities. I wasn’t really planning on making new friends independently of the ones I already knew. I was ready to repeat the same mistakes I had made Freshman year, not knowing that by not getting involved, I was setting myself up.

The only thing that saved me was my RA, Brian. The moment I moved into my dorm, Brian came by to introduce himself. He chatted with me a bit about my interests, suggested a few clubs I might be interested in joining, and generally made me feel welcome. (He also reminded me that I couldn’t hang fuzzy dice from the light fixture in my room.)

Over the next few weeks, Brian kept dropping by, suggesting that I come out for programs he was sponsoring, pointing out ways I could get involved on campus, or just coming by to check in. At first, I thought it was a little weird, this guy just dropping by to tell me about stuff I should go do, but eventually I did go to some of the programs he suggested.

Brian was an excellent peer mentor. Going in, I thought an RA’s job was mainly to enforce the rules, and Brian certainly did have to warn me about that light fixture as a part of his job. Once at 3 AM, he had to break up a theological debate between me and my friend Mike, which had gotten a bit too loud. But I don’t think of Brian as being primarily a disciplinarian. Brian’s main job was to keep students like me from falling through the cracks. Brian got me out of my room. I could have very easily have disengaged the way I had at my first college if he hadn’t done that.

Just before he graduated, I told Brian just how much what he had done by simply checking in had meant to me. I told him that it was very important to me that he showed that I was welcome, that I should engage, and he was going to make sure I did. He had no idea how much it had meant to me. To tell the truth, he said, I was his first resident ever, and the day I moved in, he had been worried about making a good impression.

By talking to me, getting to know me, and continuing to check in on me, Brian got me to engage when I really didn’t think I had to. That’s the power of Peer Mentoring.

As you work with the students that you mentor, I hope you realize the power of what you are doing. A peer mentor can change the life of a student they work with, sometimes simply by being persistent. Even if you only truly help one student, that is a huge success.

 

George J. Hill is an Academic Advisor at Kingsborough Community College, where he oversees the Peer Mentoring program within the Opening Doors Learning Communities.