Mentoring
Part I: To Mentor Or Not To Mentor?
By Amanda Kelly
Originally published in Dogs In Review magazine (U.S.A.) in 2005. All rights reserved. This text may not be reproduced without the express, written consent of the author.
We have all heard the complaints about new breeders. Those who are established berate them for being instant experts and lament the loss of ‘true’ mentorship. Gone are the golden days of the dog fancy, they say, when new fanciers could learn at the knee of the greats in their breed (the current greats, of course, being them). Instead new breeders today want to jump right in with both feet. They’ll purchase a dog from anyone who will sell them one open and then cross their fingers, hoping for the best. They don’t learn what they need to know, breed indiscriminately and dismiss the knowledge of established breeders who they should be learning from.
But does the fault rest entirely with those entering the fancy? Are they solely to blame for the lack of communication between new and old breeders? And what of good mentorships gone bad? We’ve all seen mentoring relationships that have started off well and, for whatever reason, gone astray. How can we equalize these unequal relationships?
In this series we will examine the nature of canine mentorship and some of the common pitfalls faced by those they touch. Parts two and three will examine the rolls of both and ways to make the most of the relationship.
The Opportunity
Mentorship, in its purist form, is an opportunity. It is an opportunity for new breeders to access knowledge and opinions about breeding that would otherwise be inaccessible. Who aside from your breeder, for example, has a photo of your dog’s great-great-grandmother and can recite at length the achievements and failures of both her siblings and progeny? Who but a breeder who has ‘been there, done that’ can discuss the strengths and weaknesses of certain lines based on dogs in a pedigree they have actually seen? Who else but an experienced breeder can explain, in a panicky moment, how to mix formula or what to do with a colicky puppy?
At the same time, it is also an opportunity for the mentor in question. While it is said that people learn best by ‘doing,’ the truth is we often learn even more by teaching. In mentoring someone else, breeders can find themselves learning a great deal about their breed, their lines and themselves.
The opportunity to share one’s knowledge can lead to unexpected places. Being asked to verbally explain one’s breeding strategies, for example, gives a chance for reflection on what you are doing and why you’re doing it. Combing through boxes of books and video tapes looking for educational items often leads to hours of review as we locate forgotten texts and photos. And discussing type, structure and breed character with a fresh pair of eyes can reveal interesting insights. Anyone who reads a breed standard, after all, has the right to an opinion on how to interpret it. Finding out how others perceive this document can provide fodder for many interesting conversations and realignment of positions on both sides.
The Challenge
At its base, the relationship between mentor and mentored is a naturally unequal one. The mentor must agree to teach and the student to be taught, and both must accept the innate hierarchy that relationship suggests. The question is, when does that relationship end -- or does it? How do successful relationships change over time? When does a student graduate? When does the new breeder achieve equality of thought and opinion? How can autonomy be successfully achieved without hurt feelings?
Unfortunately, all mentorships do not end happily. While personalities and circumstances obviously play a large part, relationships that start well and end badly have a variety of common attributes. Too often the blame for such failures is placed at the feet of the newbies – but is it always solely their fault?
Let’s look at an example:
After deciding she wanted to purchase a puppy to show, “Patty” researched her chosen breed and spoke to breeders across the continent. She asked all the right questions in her search for not only a great breeder but someone who could serve as her mentor as she entered the sometimes chaotic world of dog breeding. During the ensuing years she showed her new dog successfully. Under the tutelage of her mentor, “Beth”, she learned as much as possible about the breed. She read countless books and magazines not only on her chosen breed but on whelping, training, canine anatomy and breeding practices. She joined her national breed club and volunteered on a number of committees, eventually serving actively on the Board of Directors. She watched video tapes of past national specialties and pored over breed magazines until the pages were dog-eared – learning about other lines and practising her evaluation techniques. She showed and finished several dogs for her breeder both as a favour and as a way of becoming a more experienced handler. With the help of her mentor she progressed to a point of confidence in her opinion regarding the breed, her ability to evaluate it fairly and to defend her choices.
To learn more about breeding, Patty helped whelp and take care of several litters of puppies. Eventually, Beth gifted her with a bitch with which to start her breeding program. This was no small feat – Beth rarely sold breeding stock to others.
After years proving herself, Patty was eager to start her breeding program so when the contract attached to her new bitch required her to hand over all but one of the puppies in each litter that bitch might produce she readily agreed. When her mentor required that she be added as a co-owner to any puppies kept, she agreed. When stipulations regarding what Patty could or couldn’t do with the puppies she kept were detailed she agreed. And when she was told that all puppies would have to carry her mentor’s kennel name only, Patty agreed.
Perhaps not surprisingly, the relationship did not survive this agreement. Within a few years Patty became frustrated and disillusioned and the pair endured a nasty split.
Where Did It Go Wrong?
Patty and Beth are a fictional representation of a situation that is becoming increasingly common in the dog world – one that raises important questions for both new fanciers entering the breed and the established breeders watching them. Though every situation is not as dramatically unequal as this one, even in situations where agreements are more amenable, student-breeders often reach a point of frustration with their perpetually submissive position.
In this particular example, and many real situations like it, the relationship was set up to fail from the beginning as a result of the mentor’s exorbitant demands. Discussion of what constitutes a fair agreement could fill several articles, but in the end the basic message is that there is a fine line between a fair agreement and one in which someone is taken advantage of. And it is in this arena that the power and knowledge imbalance integral to a mentorship becomes apparent.
Once agreed to, contracts like this one can lead to what I term the ‘satellite’ effect where new fanciers end up with so many restrictions on the dog or dogs they have acquired from their mentor(s) that they are unable to make autonomous choices. Instead they find themselves saddled with a breeding program that isn’t really theirs, raising litters that don’t belong to them and keeping puppies they may have limited control over. They feel caught between the wish to get into breeding “the right way” and the desire to make their own mark. Whether because of legal conditions, lack of confidence in their own abilities or a fear of the unknown, they fail to emerge from the shadow of their mentor.
Well, you say, the requirements were clearly outlined from the beginning – it’s his/her fault for agreeing to it to begin with. While true, this type of statement ignores the basic inequality of the situation. In many ways the Patty’s of the world have little choice but to agree – their mentor holds all of the cards. Failure to comply means risking the opportunity to acquire desired lines altogether and, perhaps worse, the mentoring relationship they have come to value and rely on. Beyond that, an element of trust comes into play as student-breeders put faith in their mentors to offer them a fair and equitable agreement. So, while we can judge Patty in retrospect for having unwisely agreed to outrageous terms, it is important to understand her choice to comply was not made in a vacuum. Even if agreements are clearly spelled out and both parties agree to them, there is a certain point when the demands of the mentor are simply unreasonable and unfair.
A Culture of Mistrust
The truth is, mentorship today has in many cases become an extension of the classic dog show ego and mentality. Being selected as a mentor is a great honour and one can’t help but feel pride in having been successful enough in your breed to be perceived as an expert. For many breeders, such an acknowledgement is equivalent to any Best In Show award – and is equally as addictive. After all, don’t we all enjoy a bit of flattery now and again?
In addition to our hidden and rarely admitted to yearning for superiority, come the creeping fingers of suspicion. If dynamism and experimentation were the name of the game in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, protectionism and legality characterize the current age.
Established breeders are increasingly concerned, and justifiably so, with not only what they produce but who it is sold to and where it may end up three or four generations down the line. Political and personality conflicts within breeds often create false boundaries and pit breeders against one another. The ethics of others in ones breed are always of concern. Consequently, in an attempt to protect our lines from exploitation or from ‘falling into the wrong hands,’ we begin going to extraordinary measures to control not only everything we produce but all that comes after. Sales contracts, co-ownerships, non-breeding agreements – all designed to limit the actions of those we choose to work with but who, at a basic level, we don’t trust.
The wisdom of these attitudes and their subsequent affects on the dog world as a whole are a separate issue (and strong arguments can be made justifying them), but their impact on new breeders cannot be ignored. This leaves many new fanciers in a precarious situation – one that is likely unique to present-day dog breeders. Can you imagine, for example, where the Doberman Pinscher might be if Louis Doberman had decided he wouldn’t allow any of the dogs he sold to be bred? What of the large kennels of the 1930s and 1940s that produced what is regarded as the foundation stock for many of today’s most successful lines? Where would those breeders be, where would your breed be and where would you be if no one had ever taken the leap of faith we call trust?
The end message? Mentorships succeed or fail for a variety of reasons and it is unfair for established breeders to place the blame at the feet of new fanciers without looking carefully and objectively at their own role in the relationship. In addition to the failings of new breeders commonly discussed (i.e., not accessing experienced breeders, not selecting good breeding stock, not taking time to learn about their breed, it’s conformation and health or good breeding practises, wanting something for nothing), the naiveté and lack of foresight shown by students when entering into agreements regarding dogs and potential breeding stock is of concern. At the same time, failed relationships often find their root in weighted hierarchies, mistrust, control issues and superiority complexes supported and perpetuated by the mentors themselves.
The question is, how do we avoid these pitfalls and ensure a long, happy relationship?
Next issue: What does being a good mentor mean?
____________________________
Amanda Kelly is an award-winning dog writer from Halifax, Nova Scotia. Along with her mother, Wendy, Amanda breeds top-winning Toy Manchester Terriers under the Fwaggle prefix. She is currently Editor of Canine Review, Canada's oldest independent dog magazine.
____________________________
Originally published in Dogs In Review magazine (U.S.A.) in 2005. All rights reserved. This text may not be reproduced without the express, written consent of the author.
We have all heard the complaints about new breeders. Those who are established berate them for being instant experts and lament the loss of ‘true’ mentorship. Gone are the golden days of the dog fancy, they say, when new fanciers could learn at the knee of the greats in their breed (the current greats, of course, being them). Instead new breeders today want to jump right in with both feet. They’ll purchase a dog from anyone who will sell them one open and then cross their fingers, hoping for the best. They don’t learn what they need to know, breed indiscriminately and dismiss the knowledge of established breeders who they should be learning from.
But does the fault rest entirely with those entering the fancy? Are they solely to blame for the lack of communication between new and old breeders? And what of good mentorships gone bad? We’ve all seen mentoring relationships that have started off well and, for whatever reason, gone astray. How can we equalize these unequal relationships?
In this series we will examine the nature of canine mentorship and some of the common pitfalls faced by those they touch. Parts two and three will examine the rolls of both and ways to make the most of the relationship.
The Opportunity
Mentorship, in its purist form, is an opportunity. It is an opportunity for new breeders to access knowledge and opinions about breeding that would otherwise be inaccessible. Who aside from your breeder, for example, has a photo of your dog’s great-great-grandmother and can recite at length the achievements and failures of both her siblings and progeny? Who but a breeder who has ‘been there, done that’ can discuss the strengths and weaknesses of certain lines based on dogs in a pedigree they have actually seen? Who else but an experienced breeder can explain, in a panicky moment, how to mix formula or what to do with a colicky puppy?
At the same time, it is also an opportunity for the mentor in question. While it is said that people learn best by ‘doing,’ the truth is we often learn even more by teaching. In mentoring someone else, breeders can find themselves learning a great deal about their breed, their lines and themselves.
The opportunity to share one’s knowledge can lead to unexpected places. Being asked to verbally explain one’s breeding strategies, for example, gives a chance for reflection on what you are doing and why you’re doing it. Combing through boxes of books and video tapes looking for educational items often leads to hours of review as we locate forgotten texts and photos. And discussing type, structure and breed character with a fresh pair of eyes can reveal interesting insights. Anyone who reads a breed standard, after all, has the right to an opinion on how to interpret it. Finding out how others perceive this document can provide fodder for many interesting conversations and realignment of positions on both sides.
The Challenge
At its base, the relationship between mentor and mentored is a naturally unequal one. The mentor must agree to teach and the student to be taught, and both must accept the innate hierarchy that relationship suggests. The question is, when does that relationship end -- or does it? How do successful relationships change over time? When does a student graduate? When does the new breeder achieve equality of thought and opinion? How can autonomy be successfully achieved without hurt feelings?
Unfortunately, all mentorships do not end happily. While personalities and circumstances obviously play a large part, relationships that start well and end badly have a variety of common attributes. Too often the blame for such failures is placed at the feet of the newbies – but is it always solely their fault?
Let’s look at an example:
After deciding she wanted to purchase a puppy to show, “Patty” researched her chosen breed and spoke to breeders across the continent. She asked all the right questions in her search for not only a great breeder but someone who could serve as her mentor as she entered the sometimes chaotic world of dog breeding. During the ensuing years she showed her new dog successfully. Under the tutelage of her mentor, “Beth”, she learned as much as possible about the breed. She read countless books and magazines not only on her chosen breed but on whelping, training, canine anatomy and breeding practices. She joined her national breed club and volunteered on a number of committees, eventually serving actively on the Board of Directors. She watched video tapes of past national specialties and pored over breed magazines until the pages were dog-eared – learning about other lines and practising her evaluation techniques. She showed and finished several dogs for her breeder both as a favour and as a way of becoming a more experienced handler. With the help of her mentor she progressed to a point of confidence in her opinion regarding the breed, her ability to evaluate it fairly and to defend her choices.
To learn more about breeding, Patty helped whelp and take care of several litters of puppies. Eventually, Beth gifted her with a bitch with which to start her breeding program. This was no small feat – Beth rarely sold breeding stock to others.
After years proving herself, Patty was eager to start her breeding program so when the contract attached to her new bitch required her to hand over all but one of the puppies in each litter that bitch might produce she readily agreed. When her mentor required that she be added as a co-owner to any puppies kept, she agreed. When stipulations regarding what Patty could or couldn’t do with the puppies she kept were detailed she agreed. And when she was told that all puppies would have to carry her mentor’s kennel name only, Patty agreed.
Perhaps not surprisingly, the relationship did not survive this agreement. Within a few years Patty became frustrated and disillusioned and the pair endured a nasty split.
Where Did It Go Wrong?
Patty and Beth are a fictional representation of a situation that is becoming increasingly common in the dog world – one that raises important questions for both new fanciers entering the breed and the established breeders watching them. Though every situation is not as dramatically unequal as this one, even in situations where agreements are more amenable, student-breeders often reach a point of frustration with their perpetually submissive position.
In this particular example, and many real situations like it, the relationship was set up to fail from the beginning as a result of the mentor’s exorbitant demands. Discussion of what constitutes a fair agreement could fill several articles, but in the end the basic message is that there is a fine line between a fair agreement and one in which someone is taken advantage of. And it is in this arena that the power and knowledge imbalance integral to a mentorship becomes apparent.
Once agreed to, contracts like this one can lead to what I term the ‘satellite’ effect where new fanciers end up with so many restrictions on the dog or dogs they have acquired from their mentor(s) that they are unable to make autonomous choices. Instead they find themselves saddled with a breeding program that isn’t really theirs, raising litters that don’t belong to them and keeping puppies they may have limited control over. They feel caught between the wish to get into breeding “the right way” and the desire to make their own mark. Whether because of legal conditions, lack of confidence in their own abilities or a fear of the unknown, they fail to emerge from the shadow of their mentor.
Well, you say, the requirements were clearly outlined from the beginning – it’s his/her fault for agreeing to it to begin with. While true, this type of statement ignores the basic inequality of the situation. In many ways the Patty’s of the world have little choice but to agree – their mentor holds all of the cards. Failure to comply means risking the opportunity to acquire desired lines altogether and, perhaps worse, the mentoring relationship they have come to value and rely on. Beyond that, an element of trust comes into play as student-breeders put faith in their mentors to offer them a fair and equitable agreement. So, while we can judge Patty in retrospect for having unwisely agreed to outrageous terms, it is important to understand her choice to comply was not made in a vacuum. Even if agreements are clearly spelled out and both parties agree to them, there is a certain point when the demands of the mentor are simply unreasonable and unfair.
A Culture of Mistrust
The truth is, mentorship today has in many cases become an extension of the classic dog show ego and mentality. Being selected as a mentor is a great honour and one can’t help but feel pride in having been successful enough in your breed to be perceived as an expert. For many breeders, such an acknowledgement is equivalent to any Best In Show award – and is equally as addictive. After all, don’t we all enjoy a bit of flattery now and again?
In addition to our hidden and rarely admitted to yearning for superiority, come the creeping fingers of suspicion. If dynamism and experimentation were the name of the game in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, protectionism and legality characterize the current age.
Established breeders are increasingly concerned, and justifiably so, with not only what they produce but who it is sold to and where it may end up three or four generations down the line. Political and personality conflicts within breeds often create false boundaries and pit breeders against one another. The ethics of others in ones breed are always of concern. Consequently, in an attempt to protect our lines from exploitation or from ‘falling into the wrong hands,’ we begin going to extraordinary measures to control not only everything we produce but all that comes after. Sales contracts, co-ownerships, non-breeding agreements – all designed to limit the actions of those we choose to work with but who, at a basic level, we don’t trust.
The wisdom of these attitudes and their subsequent affects on the dog world as a whole are a separate issue (and strong arguments can be made justifying them), but their impact on new breeders cannot be ignored. This leaves many new fanciers in a precarious situation – one that is likely unique to present-day dog breeders. Can you imagine, for example, where the Doberman Pinscher might be if Louis Doberman had decided he wouldn’t allow any of the dogs he sold to be bred? What of the large kennels of the 1930s and 1940s that produced what is regarded as the foundation stock for many of today’s most successful lines? Where would those breeders be, where would your breed be and where would you be if no one had ever taken the leap of faith we call trust?
The end message? Mentorships succeed or fail for a variety of reasons and it is unfair for established breeders to place the blame at the feet of new fanciers without looking carefully and objectively at their own role in the relationship. In addition to the failings of new breeders commonly discussed (i.e., not accessing experienced breeders, not selecting good breeding stock, not taking time to learn about their breed, it’s conformation and health or good breeding practises, wanting something for nothing), the naiveté and lack of foresight shown by students when entering into agreements regarding dogs and potential breeding stock is of concern. At the same time, failed relationships often find their root in weighted hierarchies, mistrust, control issues and superiority complexes supported and perpetuated by the mentors themselves.
The question is, how do we avoid these pitfalls and ensure a long, happy relationship?
Next issue: What does being a good mentor mean?
____________________________
Amanda Kelly is an award-winning dog writer from Halifax, Nova Scotia. Along with her mother, Wendy, Amanda breeds top-winning Toy Manchester Terriers under the Fwaggle prefix. She is currently Editor of Canine Review, Canada's oldest independent dog magazine.
____________________________