If you admire somebody, you should go ‘head and tell ’em
People never get the flowers while they can still smell ’em
Big Brother, Kanye West
It has been said that there are but only two sureties in life: death and taxes. It is true we will invariably remit some of our income to a government and we all shall have to face our own mortality someday. However, in between growing up and older and before we perish from this earth, we must examine our place in the world and what we have done to ensure we have left it better for those who will inherit it.
Every man—as the brash, self-focused energy of youth matures into the future-oriented patience of middle and older age—finds that living for one’s self is never enough; one must endeavor to make the world a better place for others. This realization presents itself in many forms, most commonly falling in love and marrying a woman or dedicating one’s professional work to helping the less fortunate.
Those two decisions and a slew of others reflect a man keenly aware that his fate in this world is never his alone—it is inextricably bound up in the lives and well-being of others.
For a lot of men, this desire takes the form of mentorship of boys and younger men. There is quite possibly no greater calling for a man than the time-honored act of the bringing up of young boys into men, an act whose seeming ubiquity is dwarfed only by its staggering importance.
Between the careful ministration of boys, to the demands placed on young men to realize their potential and the stewardship of those lost somewhere in between, there might be no acts of greater import than the education and mentorship of the next generation.
In The Twilight Zone episode “The Changing Of The Guard,” features a man, Ellis Fowler, who has dedicated his life to stewardship of young men. A gentle, unassuming man of letters, he has led a long life—a half century, to be exact—as an educator at a preparatory school for boys and young men. His timid bookishness is matched only by his devotion to his pupils.
Suddenly, one pale, wintry afternoon after the close of fall semester, the headmaster of the school informs Ellis that he has been relieved of his duties as a professor and must retire. As he slouches into his chair, he is rather indifferently informed that he has grown too old to relate to the youth of the day. A “changing of the guard” must happen.
Ellis retreats to his house, where he is overcome with melancholic nostalgia. Painfully aware of his advanced age and uncertain of his legacy in the world, he convinces himself that he has accomplished nothing in his long life. He ruefully proclaims, “I gave them nothing at all.”
He taught no men the beauty of prose, the love of knowledge nor the values of honor, decency or compassion. Terrified and despondent over the seeming uselessness of his life, he decides to end it all.
The aging former professor takes his pistol, heads to a statue of Horace Mann on campus and resolves to kill himself. As Ellis stands in the snow next to the bust of Mann in the darkest of night, he can hear the strange chiming of a school bell and is drawn back to his classroom. Befuddled, he takes a seat in his chair and notices that his classroom is filled with the quiet, reverential ghosts of students past.
One by one, they approach the professor, informing him of their class and when and why they had died. They recite to him choice quotes from poems and short stories he told them, telling them how the beauty of prose apprised them of values like honor and courage.
They all impress upon Ellis that without his tutelage and his love of literature, they would not have become the men they became and died as.
Overcome with grateful tears and wondrous relief, Ellis returns home a complete man. He is now able to peacefully retire, his heart and mind full with the satisfaction that one can only feel when one’s life project has reached completion. The changing of the guard, as it were, will happen and Ellis wouldn’t have it any other way. To wit, Serling’s closing narration:
Professor Ellis Fowler, teacher, who discovered rather belatedly something of his own value. A very small scholastic lesson, from the campus of the Twilight Zone.
No man achieved anything of importance in life without the aid of other men. Whether the accomplishment is mundane but profound like maturing as a man or as weighty and specific as, say, becoming a jurist on the Supreme Court, every man is helped along the way by other men.
What men often forget is to remember, recognize and edify those who have given to them. Lost amongst the shuffle of growing up, career accomplishments, and even becoming a mentor themselves, men forget to credit their own mentors. It is a terrible mistake and a grave disservice to those who have so helped a man. A man should beware the ungrateful and be wary of becoming ungrateful himself.
In the aforementioned episode, Ellis Fowler’s psyche is in crisis because he felt—for a time, at least—his efforts as a mentor were in vain. While teachers do often have the burden of never knowing exactly how their wards turn out, they still want to feel that their ministrations have helped inculcate positive values like faith, love of learning and courage.
Ellis’ soul is in turmoil precisely because for him to feel like his life was, in fact, purposeful, he needed to have changed the lives of his charges for the better.
At his darkest hour, Ellis had the epiphany that he did change many young men’s lives for the better. His deceased students explained to him in great detail the profound effect of his stewardship. His existential terror over a life lived for naught is extinguished in but a series of grateful acts from beyond the grave.
Situations like Ellis’ could be avoided if men were simply more mindful of the gifts they have been given in life and from whom they have received them. It is extraordinarily easy to simply take and never give, to ask and never thank and to take for granted the contributions of those who have shaped you into the man you are today.
How many Ellis Fowler’s are in your life? Think of the all the men who have invariably affected your life for the better, all the Ellis Fowlers who cleared the brush from the path, laid down bricks so that you might walk ahead and enjoy life. Do you acknowledge what they have done for you?
Never forget to thank your mentors. Whether it is a simple note scrawled at home for your father or buying a bottle of brandy for an old friend to remind him you haven’t forgotten his support, always remember to honor those who have helped pave the way for you.
Real mentors are as few as time is short in this crazy world. They deserve to know when they have made the world a better place. As in the case of Ellis Fowler, you might just save a life. Who knows, it might even be your own someday.
Nice article.
Thanks Coach Thomsen for teaching me the circle changeup.
Thank you Mr Rogers. Am forever in debt to you .
I loved Mr. Rogers because I could trust my kids with him. He was always so calming! Loved him.
My thanks must go to men I never met: Robert A. Heinlein, Jack Vance, J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, and Rudyard Kipling. And I have no doubt that many other have owed them just as much.
If there is one piece of advice I could give to a younger man growing up in today’s freak-show of a society, it would be to have him read “If” by Rudyard Kipling.
Real Life mentors are rarely unalloyed blessings, unlike literary mentors. I read a book by a great man and get only the purest of his offerings. But the man who mentors me in person I see as he truly is and not the pure white knight I wish he were. Yet, the real life mentor teaches me perhaps the most important lesson of all, if not the most palatable: Nobody’s perfect. From which I learn I can never be perfect either. Nor do I have to be.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
I will read this again to make sure it sticks.
It’s a great speech to memorize, along with “If” by Rudyard Kipling. There are men who claim just this poem was the greatest mentor, and even the only mentor of their life! Check out the book, “Lords of the Earth” by Somebody Richardson. It’s the true story of a short, wiry, too-rough-around-the-edges-for-church missionary named Something Stanley who went into the jungles of Papua, New Guinea in the early 1960s to evangelize a tribe of cannibals. As a small boy he was brutalized by his alcoholic father and told by his teachers he’d never amount to anything. One day he found Kipling’s poem and it changed his whole life! He became a total Alpha even though he was barely 5-ft, 6-inches tall, I think. Here’s the entire poem:
IF—By Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
Gives me goosebumps still!
Print ! Thank you Tom Kaye for sharing a piece of God’s wisdom.
You’re welcome, Johnny!
As I recently told someone on YouTube who thanked me for my comment:
“Positive feedback is the tasty treat this organ grinder feeds his limbic capuchin monkey!”
And notice in both those pieces of prose neither man even MENTIONS women!
Great article!
Mentors have such huge impact on our lives but it is hard to realize
it immediately. For most people the realization comes years
afterwards. When it is too late. At least, we can pass their wisdom
on to another generation and remind ourselves that we are just
standing on the shoulders of giants.
‘BROAD’ minded:
http://www.instanthumour.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/a-mans-brain_e.jpg
It always bugs me this ‘years after the fact’ phenomenon. I compare it to what I like to call ‘too late-itis’. When you realize something, be it a truth about someone, an influence by them either positive or negative or it suddenly dawns on you why someone in the distant past behaved like they did or played you in some way. Sometimes it takes years to see and comprehend a game that’s been played on you even.
‘TOO LATE ITIS’ is when you leave the club after stumbling with the right words and angle to lay on a hot piece that slipped away. Then like a hammer in the dead of night it finally hits you and the patent game and dialogue you had in the back of your mind finally is realised. The lay would have for sure went down but something in your brain got stuck. The perfect words to use arriving at the tip of your tongue too late or the summing of a critical situation after the fact or simply being too blind at the moment to appreciate the influence of mentors in your life can all be attributed to the same malady – TOO LATE ITIS.
I believe it is a result of being too focused in scope. Tunnel vision syndrome is right in bed with other various scourges like being ‘beta obedient’. Breaking beta also involves learning to be both ‘laser focused’ and broad minded at once, or being able to ‘auto focus’ correctly.
broad-mind·ed
adjective
tolerant or liberal in one’s views and reactions; not easily offended.
That describes no one who believes what is posted on this site
Welcome to the club. Me, I am ‘BROAD’ minded too . .
http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/man-thinking-sexy-woman-25903397.jpg
Thanks, Charles, for this humbling article.
I tried to remember anyone who could the role of a mentor in my life (IRL) but could not remember one. That is why I’ve come to the Red Pill online at a relatively advanced age only to find how much of my life has been wasted due to a bad foundation – all RP tendencies were literally beaten out of me at early age. This is also why Robert Greene’s book “Mastery” is so sad for me to read – he emphatically recommends young men to have mentors, I had inverse mentors and it took me years to get out of their bad examples.
The only ones whom I could call mentors in my life are the various writers and commentators of RoK and the manosphere.
“The only ones whom I could call mentors in my life are the various writers and commentators of RoK and the manosphere”
I hear ya, brother. My old man was a decent christian but even he fucked up by teaching me about putting females on a pedastol and granting respect to people who were not worthy of it in the name of being a good christian. That, plus he married a horrible woman who was my stepmother (’nuff said right there) because he didnt want to be alone, this passing on unhealthy mangina perspective on life to me.
Like you, it wasn’t until I started reading true red pill philosohy I then began getting a fucking clue. Even the early days of reading about game in the 1990’s at sites like www fastseduction.com was still very blue pill because whereas the puas may have had various tactics to get laid, they refuse to acknowledge something was very wrong with american women and society in general. I remember in the discussion forums when anyone suggested that women should be held accountable for their behaviors, all of a sudden all these cool pick up gurus became like hipster fags, white knights, quick to ridicule anyone who dare suggest something like this.
So I owe all of my mentoring thanks to the many, mostly anonymous posters and bloggers whom I’ve read over the years to finally get a much more acurrate view of the big picture. I wish I had such knowledge growing up, but the net was not around then and most fathers were pretty much blue pill. It would have taken a very special father to teach his son one basic universal rule: that society is full of shit. But I suppose unplugging late is better than never unplugging at all.
To all those good men whom I have read, I give you my sincere thanks and gratitude!
I’d like to personally thank bold and determined for giving me the kick in the ass I needed. Victor pride is a great man. Remember, depressed men need kicks in the ass and women on their dick, not pills and a liberal psychologist to talk about their “feelings” with. Such shit will keep you stuck in the cycle of depression and misery forever, trust me, I’ve been there and seen it in other people. The number one anti-depressant is having a mission in life, number two is personal relationships, number three is working out, all the other advice is irrelevant. The other advice and even pills never really worked for me, they didn’t fix my underlying problems, which was my lifestyle.
thanks to my Mentor Tom Leykis! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t26RhY_WQqM blowmeuptom dot com
Angry Harry led me to the Red Pill. Check out his blog. He’s been doing this a long time.
I love this article; there is no limit to the importance of thanking the people who shape you into who you are.
“OK, there might be fans that boo Goodes because they are racist, and that is obviously unacceptable.”
Why is that unacceptable?
First, I’d like to thank the person who introduced me to this site – if it weren’t for him I wouldn’t have been inspired to change my beta ways. He was always calling me “beta” and poking fun when I got offended at it, but I see he obviously did so I could wake up and realize I had to change. I did.
Now, especially since no one has done so earlier, I’d like to thank Roosh for making this website – and his forum – in order to bring us all out of the Matrix of society. To be honest, I am especially thankful today because I did my first real approach in a long time, and was able to identify my strengths and weaknesses. It involved an indirect opener from “Day Bang”, which I had managed to finish yesterday (even though I read about the opener a while back). The approach left me with confidence and I was ready to go out and approach again (if the stores hadn’t closed earlier and the girls weren’t with family/boyfriends during my walk). But regardless, Roosh’s book reinforced the “just do it” mindset in approaches. I’d like to quote a line from his book – “One day you’re going to die. So just go up to the girl and say the words”. And that’s exactly what I did.
I’d also like to thank all the other ROK and RVF members who put the great advice with regards to confidence, game, and books. I get my other openers from RVF and have even constructed my own (yet to be used, atm). With regard to books, I have become more involved in reading self-improvement books (I recently read Machiavelli’s the Prince and will read The 48 Laws of Power), and books of other genres overall (Alexandre Dumas is my new favorite fiction writer).
My father and my grandpa and my uncle are men who’s wisdom guided me.
Great article. Its brought to mind a long list of great men whom have helped me throughout my life and reminded me of the value of the work I do with men with mental health issues. Many of them have been diagnosed under a feminist based socially deconstructed psychiatric system with dodgy psychopathology. Controlling emasculating labels such as ADHD and ‘anger issues’ are liberally (no political pun intended) applied. I plant a few red pill truths here and there while trying to mirror a healthy male perspective.The truth is you can only leave behind what you give, not what you take.
I’d thank them if I had had any. The older generation didn’t really do anything for me, even when they had an opportunity to. That’s why it’s important to me to help out the younger guys. I don’t want them to be treated the way I was treated.
In my country, the silence of our elders was bought off by the upcoming leaders with cheap flats build by the former regime for the working class. In consequence no man of my kin is well educated in the art of the masculine. The level of weakness in men here reaches epic proportions and that is worrying. The only observable men that mimic masculinity, are the sons of local barons who know that they can do what they want with no consequence as daddy*s pocket will solve all problems but are not fully aware.
There are some men who know what we know and who act. Those are the real masculine men a young man can look up to and for advice. But the underlying problem is that you can not see them. I*m sure there are some left but where the fuck are they ? The only ones I*ve come across are writing books and have isolated themselves from society*s political judges. Thinking about it, a theory comes to mind.
Is masculinity becoming a dying art like the art of Hip-Hop ?
Do we have the guts to at least try to redefine it, to jump start it, to bring it to our modern time ?
Art 1. Masculinity = the art that teaches a man to be a man.
Art 2. Modern society = the element that teaches a man to be a good man.
Where being good means being a whiny little ask no questions, raise no voice beta.
Art. 2 contradicts Art. 1
Jack Donovan says ,, Being a good man contradicts being good at being man. ,,
What I*ve tried to say above is that I can relate.
Only advice I can give is – don’t ever hang around with depressed people, not for one minute. Dump them immediately and go on your way. You can’t help them and they can only drain you. Trust you intuition/instincts.
Standing around rusted people brings a little rust to you.
Sanding around glittered people brings a little glitter to you.
I’d like to thank my old man and my wrestling coach
here’s a mentor experience…. freshman English, plenty of sloppy language abounding. I ask my prof…. so if someone says to me or writes… “Yo, what up…” etc with other nonsense… what’s wrong with it? I understand what the person is saying. He said, Well you can go in that direction, but it’s not the language of hundred dollar bills. That stayed with me.
Fatherlessness has certainly had a very negative effect in my life possibly why I’m always drawn to confident, wise men. I’d like to thank all the men who did give me the time of day, and helped ween out the effeminacy and bratishness of my childhood.