Making Mentors Part 4: Soulmates & Sounding Boards
Mar 29, 2024
Mar 29, 2024
Mar 29, 2024
Mar 29, 2024
In honor of Women’s History Month, we're celebrating the women who lead with empathy, tenacity, and goodness. We're paying tribute to the mentors, colleagues, teachers, and friends who found time to listen and see something that often escaped us in the mirror. We are better, wiser, and stronger because of you.
Welcome to our fourth and final Making Mentors post. This time, our Coven crew weighs in. While this feels like a bittersweet ending to a powerful month, if this series taught us anything, it's that this is only the beginning.
And as always, thank you to those who have read, supported, and shared your stories. Y'all the best.
Sarah Quackenbush
Co-Founder & President, Coven • She/Her
I've got to be honest. I didn't think this through. I didn't consider how challenging it would be to write about my own experience when we decided to do this series. It's taken me some time to articulate what female mentorship, or lack thereof, had on my professional trajectory. And frankly, compared to the thoughtful and honest insights from our amazing contributors, I'm afraid I may come up short by comparison. The truth is, I don't think I found my female mentors until I was in my 40s.
Let me begin with an admission: I am a proud member of Generation X, and a card-carrying latchkey kid. Many of you might understand what this means, but for those of you who don't, the children of Generation X grew up during a time when it seemed like almost everyone's parents were divorced, or both parents worked outside of the home. Frankly, we didn't have a whole lot of adult supervision as kids, so we had to figure shit out for ourselves. Gen X is also known for being skeptical of institutions and authority. It's not our fault.
So what's a young girl supposed to do with all of these societal forces colliding with a lack of adult supervision, and the responsibility for making sure their little brother does his homework and doesn't get kidnapped after school?
In my case, the only thing a girl can do is develop a fierce, almost impenetrable sense of independence and self-reliance. I knew that if I wanted something, I couldn't dare ask for it. My sense of personal accountability and a strong work ethic are parts of my personality that I’m particularly proud of. But, they also make asking for—and accepting—help really uncomfortable for me. Maybe I missed out on valuable female mentorship because I wasn't open to it, or maybe it's because there weren't a lot of female mentors to be found when I was coming up. Probably both.
If At First You Don't Succeed…
The first time I worked directly for a woman was a nightmare. I was 16, and she was a florist. While I loved the job, my boss was an abusive tyrant. I wouldn't choose to work for another one for nearly 10 years.
It was then that I got my first job in advertising, thanks to a young woman (Sam Adey) who was willing to take a chance on a bartender with bad bangs and no experience, and a daring agency owner. That first agency job defined the phrase “sink or swim,” but leading by example, Sam taught me when it was OK to fight for what I thought was right (almost always) and when to keep my trap shut (almost never). Sam would eventually leave the industry, but she helped make me a “professional,” and always had my back. She still does. 🙂
Around that time I began to realize that while I had a ton of female peers, very few women held senior leadership positions in Baltimore agencies. There simply wasn’t anyone who had accomplished what I wanted to accomplish that I could look to for advice and guidance. I soon learned that neither the ad industry nor Baltimore was unique in that way.
As I progressed through my career, I was fortunate to have a few managers and other senior leaders who saw my potential and made sure that I had access to opportunities to further my career. Though they were all men, I'm incredibly grateful to them because they helped me without my having to ask. However, despite some of their best efforts, they simply could not grasp the obstacles that are unique to women in this field. Like, how to be successful without having to act like a man…How to leverage the unique set of skills inherent to women without looking weak or soft…How to have a family and a personal life, while continuing to throw your heart and soul into your work…How to hold people accountable without being a “bitch”...How to establish boundaries without seeming cold…How to be taken seriously while wearing a skirt...How to remain relevant as you age…How to recover from crying in front of your coworkers when frustration overtakes you…
Looking back, it didn't occur to me as early as it should have that I'd end up being the person that I’d been looking for throughout my career. But, once I realized that I was that person, I committed myself to take it seriously. To help outstanding passionate young people achieve their goals. To lead with empathy. To make connections. To listen, to make myself available as best I can (see boundaries) to be a sounding board, shoulder, and sometimes ass-kicker. To make space for women at the table. To be someone that people trust enough to be vulnerable around. To provide honest feedback, even when it's hard to hear. To always try to understand before reacting. To live and lead with integrity and by example. To remain aware enough to know that sometimes I'm an example of what NOT to do (I believe there's value in that too). To break down barriers. To be fair, to let people know that they don't have to figure shit out on their own.
Making Room
More than anything, I see my role as a female mentor to take up as much space as I can. To create room for other, smarter, and more creative women to take my place when it's time for me to go.
It's so important that young women have people they can look to help them avoid or overcome the challenges faced by the previous generation. And getting to be a mentor has been one of the most rewarding (and emotionally exhausting) facets of my career. Mentorship has given me an invaluable perspective. Do I always get it right? Hell no. I'm still working on asking for and receiving help. But I'm making progress.
Jess Brown
Co-Founder & Chief Creative, Coven • She/Her
Mentoring is different from being a mentor. Receiving mentorship is not the same thing as having a mentor. Just like teaching doesn't automatically make you, a teacher. The difference, a critical one, is commitment.
Here’s the thing, I think mentors are like soulmates—not everyone has the good fortune of finding their counterpart. And, much like soulmates, the dynamic is mutually beneficial albeit providing different values. Both individuals are aware of their bond and the profound impact they have on one another It's intimate. My opinion, of course.
Do I have a soulmate? Sure don’t, and apologies to anyone who feels slighted by that statement. Frankly, I think my soulmate may have been my late dog Lyla, but I digress.
I do have partners—professionally and personally who enrich my life beyond anything I could have imagined.
Do I have a mentor? Nope. Some mentoring has come my way—mostly from men further up the creative ladder. I appreciate them. I value their experience. But, we've never walked in each others shoes. Never will.
Am I a mentor? No again. I’ve come pretty close to doing some mentoring, but I’m not confident both parties knew that was my intention. Sooo, no, not a mentor. Would I like to be a mentor one day? Hell yea.
Role Models Aren’t Mentors
What I can say is that I’ve been a role model for a lot of women, and maybe even some men along the way. I like to think I’ve demonstrated what a little confidence and loads of tenacity can do in a professional setting. There’s no doubt I’ve made mistakes that others can learn from without having to repeat. Hopefully, my willingness to take risks and fail fast have left a positive impression somewhere. I didn’t leave agency life after childbirth, thought about it, but I stayed. Yes, a role model.
My Army of Women
Throughout my career in marketing, there have been very few women leading creative departments. There were even less female leaders when I took a brief detour in the tech space. I haven’t had a lot of female role models in my position to emulate, and of the few I’ve encountered, even less of them were mothers. Forget role models, there wasn’t an ideal female mentor in sight. I barely noticed.
Instead of a mentor to aid in my professional development, I’ve been surrounded by an army of women teaching me lessons, opening doors, and influencing how I approach situations. Most of them probably don’t even know it, because I’ve been quietly collecting their wisdom to guide me through challenges. In fact, that's the crazy thing about role models. They aren't always aware of the crucial role they play. I should do a better job of showing my gratitude.
You don’t have all day, so allow me to thank a very truncated list.
Joyce Whitney
Thank you for teaching me how to fan the flames of young ambition, even if it means supporting their move to a different company.
……
Nichole Baccala-Ward
Thank you for creating the first family-friendly agency culture I’d experienced, and for demonstrating the importance of playing the long game when running a business.
……
Meagan Petri
Thank you for being an incredibly talented and challenging employee who made me a better leader. Maybe even a better person?
……
Trish McClean
Thank you for setting high standards and not being afraid to ask for them—or fight for them—when necessary. Thanks for giving me confidence that motherhood and marketing CAN co-exist.
……
Holly Moring
Thank you for showing me that women are allowed to be brilliant and totally weird at the same time. Your authenticity was inspiring.
……
Kate Fulks
Thank you for being unflappable and for setting the bar when it comes to having professional boundaries. You could teach a masterclass. Quack would be your first student. 😉
……
Mrs. Franco
Thank you for making me read my AP English papers to you out loud while you mercilessly marked them up—I’m a better copy editor for it. And, thank you for doubting my choice to go to art school. Proving you wrong has been a pleasure.
……
Sarah Quackenbush
Thank you for trusting our friendship enough to be my business partner.
……
Not sure where I’d be without all of you, but I do know one thing: I wouldn’t trade my time with you, or any other unnamed members of my army, for a “mentor.” Who I am today isn’t thanks to one brave soul who was willing to take me under her wing despite my insufferable ambition and skepticism for authority. I never received my signed copy of “How To Be A Creative Director in a Man’s World.” And, I think that’s alright.
I would, however, like to be that brave soul for a younger version of me one day.
Bad Habits Are Hard, Not Impossible, To Break
The thing is, my career has also been influenced by a lot of other factors and societal paradigms. Emulating men in my position was a fun experiment, cut short and proven flawed by motherhood. I catch myself apologizing for no damn reason. Sigh, I almost apologized here. I’m a 40 year old woman who still doesn’t consistently advocate for herself and forgets that I am allowed to have a say in my own daily schedule. I possess an unhealthy desire to be the underdog, because nothing feels better than proving the doubters wrong—especially when you're a woman. Asking for help still feels like a foreign language. I don't take skincare seriously enough. You get the point, I’m a work in progress.
As a senior leader, I have an obligation to support women in the workforce—that may be the only way we ever truly close the gender gap. Being a positive female influence who advocates on behalf of other women, is a big part of why Coven exists. We're hell bent on rewriting the narrative in our industry. Here, I’m still dabbling in the art of role modeling—just not mentor material. Yet.
Actually, if anyone knows a woman who might be a match for a motivated, but slightly damaged, creative mentee like me, send her my way.
Crosby Stone
Creative Operations Director, Coven • She/Her
I will start this in the most cliche way possible—my most impactful female role model has always been my mom. I was raised in a household where my mom was the breadwinner and taught me everything I needed to know about climbing a corporate ladder. I’ve been telling a story with data since before I knew how to drive a car. I’ve also known, inherently, that being a woman who climbs that ladder isn’t always the norm. I had to watch my mom fight for every position, get looked over for promotions, and just generally deal with being a woman involved in leadership in the early 2000s. (If you know, you know.)
The thing is, having the privilege of coming from a family of strong matriarchs (my mom’s headstrong personality was passed down from her mom, my Nunni) gave me the greatest gift—I knew from a very young age just how important it was to have some sort of female voice in anything I was a part of. Those women showed me how to be firm and kind. Be taken seriously and connect with people. Fight my way through any situation with a smile on my face. And, most importantly, gave me the confidence to believe that I deserved to be in any position that I earned, regardless of my gender.
That confidence, not just from my family but from countless other strong-willed, badass, endlessly knowledgeable women mentors, paved the way for me to pass on my experience. I had the privilege of running an internship program where I got to mentor up and coming women designers—something that I’m immensely grateful for.
All that to say, women are pretty much the only reason I’m at this point in my career. My mom gave me the push I needed to pursue what I was really passionate about. Katie Rasinski and Kim Mattison welcomed me with open arms to my first “Big Girl” job and supported me through my short time there. Mae Sevick showed me the ins and outs of being on a (mostly male) leadership team. Sue Baile gave me a chance to make a career pivot and trusted me with so much.
Jess Brown and Sarah Quackenbush provide a masterclass in business ownership and humble leadership—the experience I get just from watching them work is priceless.
Alyssa DeNicolis supports me in so many ways (including therapist, sounding board, art director, lunch companion, and so much more) every damn day.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Alyssa DeNicolis
Account Director, Coven • She/Her
This blog series wasn't supposed to be like this.
We were working at a local coffee shop, brainstorming ideas for Women's History Month—it was Valentine's Day and Quack insisted on chocolate-covered strawberries for the table. Very on-brand.
This series was just going to be a single blog post, threading together a collection of short quotes and gushing about female mentorship at large. We shot out a short list of people in our networks who would have really interesting, valuable, perspectives on the topic. So, I started reaching out.
The thing is, when people started sharing...they didn't just share bullets, they started sharing really...beautiful stories. Calling out mentors by name, recounting specific moments that changed their lives and trajectories. Charisse's was the first that we received. I think I read it and responded something back like "CHILLS." It was true I had the goosebumps to prove it.
The essence of what I'm trying to say is that I expected people would have nuggets to share, but I didn't expect the whole meal. When it comes to female mentorship, there was simply so much to share, so many people to name-drop, and so many moments of both strength and empathy. So yeah, from there it became a series.
I can't speak for others as readers, but for me, it’s been quite powerful gathering these stories. It’s forced me to do a lot of reflection on my own journey, and about who I hope to be to others. Being a woman can feel unfair, and daunting, and at times disheartening. But there’s nothing like a community of women who know how to restore. When somebody fills my cup, I can’t wait to fill others’.
So to all of the mentors and friends who have filled my metaphorical cup—and sometimes a real cup, if that cup is a wine glass—thank you.
To Kristi Stewart, my first boss fresh out of college, thank you for seeing something in me and being such a powerful catalyst for my growth. And Steph Senkewicz for your undying patience, warmth, and Borat impressions. To Lauren Looney, for always having the answer, both professionally and personally. To Crosby Stone, the phrase “work wife” makes me quite literally want to vomit, but it’s truly what you are to me. And finally, to Sarah Quackenbush and Jess Brown, who have carved out a little space in this world where I feel valued, seen, and safe to grow.
And if you’ve made it this far, thanks for coming along. I hope you use this as a reminder to thank the people who have filled your cup.
——
Making Mentors celebrates the positive impact women have on one another and society, but one noticeable trend is clear: the optimism and grace of women who've had a greater presence of female leaders in their careers is a testament to the transformative power of breaking boundaries and replacing glass ceilings with opportunities. By continuing to pave the way, we are all making stronger mentors for future generations. Hell yea, we WILL close the gap.
✨ For more thoughts, industry interviews, and general tomfoolery, keep following along on Banter ✨
In honor of Women’s History Month, we're celebrating the women who lead with empathy, tenacity, and goodness. We're paying tribute to the mentors, colleagues, teachers, and friends who found time to listen and see something that often escaped us in the mirror. We are better, wiser, and stronger because of you.
Welcome to our fourth and final Making Mentors post. This time, our Coven crew weighs in. While this feels like a bittersweet ending to a powerful month, if this series taught us anything, it's that this is only the beginning.
And as always, thank you to those who have read, supported, and shared your stories. Y'all the best.
Sarah Quackenbush
Co-Founder & President, Coven • She/Her
I've got to be honest. I didn't think this through. I didn't consider how challenging it would be to write about my own experience when we decided to do this series. It's taken me some time to articulate what female mentorship, or lack thereof, had on my professional trajectory. And frankly, compared to the thoughtful and honest insights from our amazing contributors, I'm afraid I may come up short by comparison. The truth is, I don't think I found my female mentors until I was in my 40s.
Let me begin with an admission: I am a proud member of Generation X, and a card-carrying latchkey kid. Many of you might understand what this means, but for those of you who don't, the children of Generation X grew up during a time when it seemed like almost everyone's parents were divorced, or both parents worked outside of the home. Frankly, we didn't have a whole lot of adult supervision as kids, so we had to figure shit out for ourselves. Gen X is also known for being skeptical of institutions and authority. It's not our fault.
So what's a young girl supposed to do with all of these societal forces colliding with a lack of adult supervision, and the responsibility for making sure their little brother does his homework and doesn't get kidnapped after school?
In my case, the only thing a girl can do is develop a fierce, almost impenetrable sense of independence and self-reliance. I knew that if I wanted something, I couldn't dare ask for it. My sense of personal accountability and a strong work ethic are parts of my personality that I’m particularly proud of. But, they also make asking for—and accepting—help really uncomfortable for me. Maybe I missed out on valuable female mentorship because I wasn't open to it, or maybe it's because there weren't a lot of female mentors to be found when I was coming up. Probably both.
If At First You Don't Succeed…
The first time I worked directly for a woman was a nightmare. I was 16, and she was a florist. While I loved the job, my boss was an abusive tyrant. I wouldn't choose to work for another one for nearly 10 years.
It was then that I got my first job in advertising, thanks to a young woman (Sam Adey) who was willing to take a chance on a bartender with bad bangs and no experience, and a daring agency owner. That first agency job defined the phrase “sink or swim,” but leading by example, Sam taught me when it was OK to fight for what I thought was right (almost always) and when to keep my trap shut (almost never). Sam would eventually leave the industry, but she helped make me a “professional,” and always had my back. She still does. 🙂
Around that time I began to realize that while I had a ton of female peers, very few women held senior leadership positions in Baltimore agencies. There simply wasn’t anyone who had accomplished what I wanted to accomplish that I could look to for advice and guidance. I soon learned that neither the ad industry nor Baltimore was unique in that way.
As I progressed through my career, I was fortunate to have a few managers and other senior leaders who saw my potential and made sure that I had access to opportunities to further my career. Though they were all men, I'm incredibly grateful to them because they helped me without my having to ask. However, despite some of their best efforts, they simply could not grasp the obstacles that are unique to women in this field. Like, how to be successful without having to act like a man…How to leverage the unique set of skills inherent to women without looking weak or soft…How to have a family and a personal life, while continuing to throw your heart and soul into your work…How to hold people accountable without being a “bitch”...How to establish boundaries without seeming cold…How to be taken seriously while wearing a skirt...How to remain relevant as you age…How to recover from crying in front of your coworkers when frustration overtakes you…
Looking back, it didn't occur to me as early as it should have that I'd end up being the person that I’d been looking for throughout my career. But, once I realized that I was that person, I committed myself to take it seriously. To help outstanding passionate young people achieve their goals. To lead with empathy. To make connections. To listen, to make myself available as best I can (see boundaries) to be a sounding board, shoulder, and sometimes ass-kicker. To make space for women at the table. To be someone that people trust enough to be vulnerable around. To provide honest feedback, even when it's hard to hear. To always try to understand before reacting. To live and lead with integrity and by example. To remain aware enough to know that sometimes I'm an example of what NOT to do (I believe there's value in that too). To break down barriers. To be fair, to let people know that they don't have to figure shit out on their own.
Making Room
More than anything, I see my role as a female mentor to take up as much space as I can. To create room for other, smarter, and more creative women to take my place when it's time for me to go.
It's so important that young women have people they can look to help them avoid or overcome the challenges faced by the previous generation. And getting to be a mentor has been one of the most rewarding (and emotionally exhausting) facets of my career. Mentorship has given me an invaluable perspective. Do I always get it right? Hell no. I'm still working on asking for and receiving help. But I'm making progress.
Jess Brown
Co-Founder & Chief Creative, Coven • She/Her
Mentoring is different from being a mentor. Receiving mentorship is not the same thing as having a mentor. Just like teaching doesn't automatically make you, a teacher. The difference, a critical one, is commitment.
Here’s the thing, I think mentors are like soulmates—not everyone has the good fortune of finding their counterpart. And, much like soulmates, the dynamic is mutually beneficial albeit providing different values. Both individuals are aware of their bond and the profound impact they have on one another It's intimate. My opinion, of course.
Do I have a soulmate? Sure don’t, and apologies to anyone who feels slighted by that statement. Frankly, I think my soulmate may have been my late dog Lyla, but I digress.
I do have partners—professionally and personally who enrich my life beyond anything I could have imagined.
Do I have a mentor? Nope. Some mentoring has come my way—mostly from men further up the creative ladder. I appreciate them. I value their experience. But, we've never walked in each others shoes. Never will.
Am I a mentor? No again. I’ve come pretty close to doing some mentoring, but I’m not confident both parties knew that was my intention. Sooo, no, not a mentor. Would I like to be a mentor one day? Hell yea.
Role Models Aren’t Mentors
What I can say is that I’ve been a role model for a lot of women, and maybe even some men along the way. I like to think I’ve demonstrated what a little confidence and loads of tenacity can do in a professional setting. There’s no doubt I’ve made mistakes that others can learn from without having to repeat. Hopefully, my willingness to take risks and fail fast have left a positive impression somewhere. I didn’t leave agency life after childbirth, thought about it, but I stayed. Yes, a role model.
My Army of Women
Throughout my career in marketing, there have been very few women leading creative departments. There were even less female leaders when I took a brief detour in the tech space. I haven’t had a lot of female role models in my position to emulate, and of the few I’ve encountered, even less of them were mothers. Forget role models, there wasn’t an ideal female mentor in sight. I barely noticed.
Instead of a mentor to aid in my professional development, I’ve been surrounded by an army of women teaching me lessons, opening doors, and influencing how I approach situations. Most of them probably don’t even know it, because I’ve been quietly collecting their wisdom to guide me through challenges. In fact, that's the crazy thing about role models. They aren't always aware of the crucial role they play. I should do a better job of showing my gratitude.
You don’t have all day, so allow me to thank a very truncated list.
Joyce Whitney
Thank you for teaching me how to fan the flames of young ambition, even if it means supporting their move to a different company.
……
Nichole Baccala-Ward
Thank you for creating the first family-friendly agency culture I’d experienced, and for demonstrating the importance of playing the long game when running a business.
……
Meagan Petri
Thank you for being an incredibly talented and challenging employee who made me a better leader. Maybe even a better person?
……
Trish McClean
Thank you for setting high standards and not being afraid to ask for them—or fight for them—when necessary. Thanks for giving me confidence that motherhood and marketing CAN co-exist.
……
Holly Moring
Thank you for showing me that women are allowed to be brilliant and totally weird at the same time. Your authenticity was inspiring.
……
Kate Fulks
Thank you for being unflappable and for setting the bar when it comes to having professional boundaries. You could teach a masterclass. Quack would be your first student. 😉
……
Mrs. Franco
Thank you for making me read my AP English papers to you out loud while you mercilessly marked them up—I’m a better copy editor for it. And, thank you for doubting my choice to go to art school. Proving you wrong has been a pleasure.
……
Sarah Quackenbush
Thank you for trusting our friendship enough to be my business partner.
……
Not sure where I’d be without all of you, but I do know one thing: I wouldn’t trade my time with you, or any other unnamed members of my army, for a “mentor.” Who I am today isn’t thanks to one brave soul who was willing to take me under her wing despite my insufferable ambition and skepticism for authority. I never received my signed copy of “How To Be A Creative Director in a Man’s World.” And, I think that’s alright.
I would, however, like to be that brave soul for a younger version of me one day.
Bad Habits Are Hard, Not Impossible, To Break
The thing is, my career has also been influenced by a lot of other factors and societal paradigms. Emulating men in my position was a fun experiment, cut short and proven flawed by motherhood. I catch myself apologizing for no damn reason. Sigh, I almost apologized here. I’m a 40 year old woman who still doesn’t consistently advocate for herself and forgets that I am allowed to have a say in my own daily schedule. I possess an unhealthy desire to be the underdog, because nothing feels better than proving the doubters wrong—especially when you're a woman. Asking for help still feels like a foreign language. I don't take skincare seriously enough. You get the point, I’m a work in progress.
As a senior leader, I have an obligation to support women in the workforce—that may be the only way we ever truly close the gender gap. Being a positive female influence who advocates on behalf of other women, is a big part of why Coven exists. We're hell bent on rewriting the narrative in our industry. Here, I’m still dabbling in the art of role modeling—just not mentor material. Yet.
Actually, if anyone knows a woman who might be a match for a motivated, but slightly damaged, creative mentee like me, send her my way.
Crosby Stone
Creative Operations Director, Coven • She/Her
I will start this in the most cliche way possible—my most impactful female role model has always been my mom. I was raised in a household where my mom was the breadwinner and taught me everything I needed to know about climbing a corporate ladder. I’ve been telling a story with data since before I knew how to drive a car. I’ve also known, inherently, that being a woman who climbs that ladder isn’t always the norm. I had to watch my mom fight for every position, get looked over for promotions, and just generally deal with being a woman involved in leadership in the early 2000s. (If you know, you know.)
The thing is, having the privilege of coming from a family of strong matriarchs (my mom’s headstrong personality was passed down from her mom, my Nunni) gave me the greatest gift—I knew from a very young age just how important it was to have some sort of female voice in anything I was a part of. Those women showed me how to be firm and kind. Be taken seriously and connect with people. Fight my way through any situation with a smile on my face. And, most importantly, gave me the confidence to believe that I deserved to be in any position that I earned, regardless of my gender.
That confidence, not just from my family but from countless other strong-willed, badass, endlessly knowledgeable women mentors, paved the way for me to pass on my experience. I had the privilege of running an internship program where I got to mentor up and coming women designers—something that I’m immensely grateful for.
All that to say, women are pretty much the only reason I’m at this point in my career. My mom gave me the push I needed to pursue what I was really passionate about. Katie Rasinski and Kim Mattison welcomed me with open arms to my first “Big Girl” job and supported me through my short time there. Mae Sevick showed me the ins and outs of being on a (mostly male) leadership team. Sue Baile gave me a chance to make a career pivot and trusted me with so much.
Jess Brown and Sarah Quackenbush provide a masterclass in business ownership and humble leadership—the experience I get just from watching them work is priceless.
Alyssa DeNicolis supports me in so many ways (including therapist, sounding board, art director, lunch companion, and so much more) every damn day.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Alyssa DeNicolis
Account Director, Coven • She/Her
This blog series wasn't supposed to be like this.
We were working at a local coffee shop, brainstorming ideas for Women's History Month—it was Valentine's Day and Quack insisted on chocolate-covered strawberries for the table. Very on-brand.
This series was just going to be a single blog post, threading together a collection of short quotes and gushing about female mentorship at large. We shot out a short list of people in our networks who would have really interesting, valuable, perspectives on the topic. So, I started reaching out.
The thing is, when people started sharing...they didn't just share bullets, they started sharing really...beautiful stories. Calling out mentors by name, recounting specific moments that changed their lives and trajectories. Charisse's was the first that we received. I think I read it and responded something back like "CHILLS." It was true I had the goosebumps to prove it.
The essence of what I'm trying to say is that I expected people would have nuggets to share, but I didn't expect the whole meal. When it comes to female mentorship, there was simply so much to share, so many people to name-drop, and so many moments of both strength and empathy. So yeah, from there it became a series.
I can't speak for others as readers, but for me, it’s been quite powerful gathering these stories. It’s forced me to do a lot of reflection on my own journey, and about who I hope to be to others. Being a woman can feel unfair, and daunting, and at times disheartening. But there’s nothing like a community of women who know how to restore. When somebody fills my cup, I can’t wait to fill others’.
So to all of the mentors and friends who have filled my metaphorical cup—and sometimes a real cup, if that cup is a wine glass—thank you.
To Kristi Stewart, my first boss fresh out of college, thank you for seeing something in me and being such a powerful catalyst for my growth. And Steph Senkewicz for your undying patience, warmth, and Borat impressions. To Lauren Looney, for always having the answer, both professionally and personally. To Crosby Stone, the phrase “work wife” makes me quite literally want to vomit, but it’s truly what you are to me. And finally, to Sarah Quackenbush and Jess Brown, who have carved out a little space in this world where I feel valued, seen, and safe to grow.
And if you’ve made it this far, thanks for coming along. I hope you use this as a reminder to thank the people who have filled your cup.
——
Making Mentors celebrates the positive impact women have on one another and society, but one noticeable trend is clear: the optimism and grace of women who've had a greater presence of female leaders in their careers is a testament to the transformative power of breaking boundaries and replacing glass ceilings with opportunities. By continuing to pave the way, we are all making stronger mentors for future generations. Hell yea, we WILL close the gap.
✨ For more thoughts, industry interviews, and general tomfoolery, keep following along on Banter ✨
In honor of Women’s History Month, we're celebrating the women who lead with empathy, tenacity, and goodness. We're paying tribute to the mentors, colleagues, teachers, and friends who found time to listen and see something that often escaped us in the mirror. We are better, wiser, and stronger because of you.
Welcome to our fourth and final Making Mentors post. This time, our Coven crew weighs in. While this feels like a bittersweet ending to a powerful month, if this series taught us anything, it's that this is only the beginning.
And as always, thank you to those who have read, supported, and shared your stories. Y'all the best.
Sarah Quackenbush
Co-Founder & President, Coven • She/Her
I've got to be honest. I didn't think this through. I didn't consider how challenging it would be to write about my own experience when we decided to do this series. It's taken me some time to articulate what female mentorship, or lack thereof, had on my professional trajectory. And frankly, compared to the thoughtful and honest insights from our amazing contributors, I'm afraid I may come up short by comparison. The truth is, I don't think I found my female mentors until I was in my 40s.
Let me begin with an admission: I am a proud member of Generation X, and a card-carrying latchkey kid. Many of you might understand what this means, but for those of you who don't, the children of Generation X grew up during a time when it seemed like almost everyone's parents were divorced, or both parents worked outside of the home. Frankly, we didn't have a whole lot of adult supervision as kids, so we had to figure shit out for ourselves. Gen X is also known for being skeptical of institutions and authority. It's not our fault.
So what's a young girl supposed to do with all of these societal forces colliding with a lack of adult supervision, and the responsibility for making sure their little brother does his homework and doesn't get kidnapped after school?
In my case, the only thing a girl can do is develop a fierce, almost impenetrable sense of independence and self-reliance. I knew that if I wanted something, I couldn't dare ask for it. My sense of personal accountability and a strong work ethic are parts of my personality that I’m particularly proud of. But, they also make asking for—and accepting—help really uncomfortable for me. Maybe I missed out on valuable female mentorship because I wasn't open to it, or maybe it's because there weren't a lot of female mentors to be found when I was coming up. Probably both.
If At First You Don't Succeed…
The first time I worked directly for a woman was a nightmare. I was 16, and she was a florist. While I loved the job, my boss was an abusive tyrant. I wouldn't choose to work for another one for nearly 10 years.
It was then that I got my first job in advertising, thanks to a young woman (Sam Adey) who was willing to take a chance on a bartender with bad bangs and no experience, and a daring agency owner. That first agency job defined the phrase “sink or swim,” but leading by example, Sam taught me when it was OK to fight for what I thought was right (almost always) and when to keep my trap shut (almost never). Sam would eventually leave the industry, but she helped make me a “professional,” and always had my back. She still does. 🙂
Around that time I began to realize that while I had a ton of female peers, very few women held senior leadership positions in Baltimore agencies. There simply wasn’t anyone who had accomplished what I wanted to accomplish that I could look to for advice and guidance. I soon learned that neither the ad industry nor Baltimore was unique in that way.
As I progressed through my career, I was fortunate to have a few managers and other senior leaders who saw my potential and made sure that I had access to opportunities to further my career. Though they were all men, I'm incredibly grateful to them because they helped me without my having to ask. However, despite some of their best efforts, they simply could not grasp the obstacles that are unique to women in this field. Like, how to be successful without having to act like a man…How to leverage the unique set of skills inherent to women without looking weak or soft…How to have a family and a personal life, while continuing to throw your heart and soul into your work…How to hold people accountable without being a “bitch”...How to establish boundaries without seeming cold…How to be taken seriously while wearing a skirt...How to remain relevant as you age…How to recover from crying in front of your coworkers when frustration overtakes you…
Looking back, it didn't occur to me as early as it should have that I'd end up being the person that I’d been looking for throughout my career. But, once I realized that I was that person, I committed myself to take it seriously. To help outstanding passionate young people achieve their goals. To lead with empathy. To make connections. To listen, to make myself available as best I can (see boundaries) to be a sounding board, shoulder, and sometimes ass-kicker. To make space for women at the table. To be someone that people trust enough to be vulnerable around. To provide honest feedback, even when it's hard to hear. To always try to understand before reacting. To live and lead with integrity and by example. To remain aware enough to know that sometimes I'm an example of what NOT to do (I believe there's value in that too). To break down barriers. To be fair, to let people know that they don't have to figure shit out on their own.
Making Room
More than anything, I see my role as a female mentor to take up as much space as I can. To create room for other, smarter, and more creative women to take my place when it's time for me to go.
It's so important that young women have people they can look to help them avoid or overcome the challenges faced by the previous generation. And getting to be a mentor has been one of the most rewarding (and emotionally exhausting) facets of my career. Mentorship has given me an invaluable perspective. Do I always get it right? Hell no. I'm still working on asking for and receiving help. But I'm making progress.
Jess Brown
Co-Founder & Chief Creative, Coven • She/Her
Mentoring is different from being a mentor. Receiving mentorship is not the same thing as having a mentor. Just like teaching doesn't automatically make you, a teacher. The difference, a critical one, is commitment.
Here’s the thing, I think mentors are like soulmates—not everyone has the good fortune of finding their counterpart. And, much like soulmates, the dynamic is mutually beneficial albeit providing different values. Both individuals are aware of their bond and the profound impact they have on one another It's intimate. My opinion, of course.
Do I have a soulmate? Sure don’t, and apologies to anyone who feels slighted by that statement. Frankly, I think my soulmate may have been my late dog Lyla, but I digress.
I do have partners—professionally and personally who enrich my life beyond anything I could have imagined.
Do I have a mentor? Nope. Some mentoring has come my way—mostly from men further up the creative ladder. I appreciate them. I value their experience. But, we've never walked in each others shoes. Never will.
Am I a mentor? No again. I’ve come pretty close to doing some mentoring, but I’m not confident both parties knew that was my intention. Sooo, no, not a mentor. Would I like to be a mentor one day? Hell yea.
Role Models Aren’t Mentors
What I can say is that I’ve been a role model for a lot of women, and maybe even some men along the way. I like to think I’ve demonstrated what a little confidence and loads of tenacity can do in a professional setting. There’s no doubt I’ve made mistakes that others can learn from without having to repeat. Hopefully, my willingness to take risks and fail fast have left a positive impression somewhere. I didn’t leave agency life after childbirth, thought about it, but I stayed. Yes, a role model.
My Army of Women
Throughout my career in marketing, there have been very few women leading creative departments. There were even less female leaders when I took a brief detour in the tech space. I haven’t had a lot of female role models in my position to emulate, and of the few I’ve encountered, even less of them were mothers. Forget role models, there wasn’t an ideal female mentor in sight. I barely noticed.
Instead of a mentor to aid in my professional development, I’ve been surrounded by an army of women teaching me lessons, opening doors, and influencing how I approach situations. Most of them probably don’t even know it, because I’ve been quietly collecting their wisdom to guide me through challenges. In fact, that's the crazy thing about role models. They aren't always aware of the crucial role they play. I should do a better job of showing my gratitude.
You don’t have all day, so allow me to thank a very truncated list.
Joyce Whitney
Thank you for teaching me how to fan the flames of young ambition, even if it means supporting their move to a different company.
……
Nichole Baccala-Ward
Thank you for creating the first family-friendly agency culture I’d experienced, and for demonstrating the importance of playing the long game when running a business.
……
Meagan Petri
Thank you for being an incredibly talented and challenging employee who made me a better leader. Maybe even a better person?
……
Trish McClean
Thank you for setting high standards and not being afraid to ask for them—or fight for them—when necessary. Thanks for giving me confidence that motherhood and marketing CAN co-exist.
……
Holly Moring
Thank you for showing me that women are allowed to be brilliant and totally weird at the same time. Your authenticity was inspiring.
……
Kate Fulks
Thank you for being unflappable and for setting the bar when it comes to having professional boundaries. You could teach a masterclass. Quack would be your first student. 😉
……
Mrs. Franco
Thank you for making me read my AP English papers to you out loud while you mercilessly marked them up—I’m a better copy editor for it. And, thank you for doubting my choice to go to art school. Proving you wrong has been a pleasure.
……
Sarah Quackenbush
Thank you for trusting our friendship enough to be my business partner.
……
Not sure where I’d be without all of you, but I do know one thing: I wouldn’t trade my time with you, or any other unnamed members of my army, for a “mentor.” Who I am today isn’t thanks to one brave soul who was willing to take me under her wing despite my insufferable ambition and skepticism for authority. I never received my signed copy of “How To Be A Creative Director in a Man’s World.” And, I think that’s alright.
I would, however, like to be that brave soul for a younger version of me one day.
Bad Habits Are Hard, Not Impossible, To Break
The thing is, my career has also been influenced by a lot of other factors and societal paradigms. Emulating men in my position was a fun experiment, cut short and proven flawed by motherhood. I catch myself apologizing for no damn reason. Sigh, I almost apologized here. I’m a 40 year old woman who still doesn’t consistently advocate for herself and forgets that I am allowed to have a say in my own daily schedule. I possess an unhealthy desire to be the underdog, because nothing feels better than proving the doubters wrong—especially when you're a woman. Asking for help still feels like a foreign language. I don't take skincare seriously enough. You get the point, I’m a work in progress.
As a senior leader, I have an obligation to support women in the workforce—that may be the only way we ever truly close the gender gap. Being a positive female influence who advocates on behalf of other women, is a big part of why Coven exists. We're hell bent on rewriting the narrative in our industry. Here, I’m still dabbling in the art of role modeling—just not mentor material. Yet.
Actually, if anyone knows a woman who might be a match for a motivated, but slightly damaged, creative mentee like me, send her my way.
Crosby Stone
Creative Operations Director, Coven • She/Her
I will start this in the most cliche way possible—my most impactful female role model has always been my mom. I was raised in a household where my mom was the breadwinner and taught me everything I needed to know about climbing a corporate ladder. I’ve been telling a story with data since before I knew how to drive a car. I’ve also known, inherently, that being a woman who climbs that ladder isn’t always the norm. I had to watch my mom fight for every position, get looked over for promotions, and just generally deal with being a woman involved in leadership in the early 2000s. (If you know, you know.)
The thing is, having the privilege of coming from a family of strong matriarchs (my mom’s headstrong personality was passed down from her mom, my Nunni) gave me the greatest gift—I knew from a very young age just how important it was to have some sort of female voice in anything I was a part of. Those women showed me how to be firm and kind. Be taken seriously and connect with people. Fight my way through any situation with a smile on my face. And, most importantly, gave me the confidence to believe that I deserved to be in any position that I earned, regardless of my gender.
That confidence, not just from my family but from countless other strong-willed, badass, endlessly knowledgeable women mentors, paved the way for me to pass on my experience. I had the privilege of running an internship program where I got to mentor up and coming women designers—something that I’m immensely grateful for.
All that to say, women are pretty much the only reason I’m at this point in my career. My mom gave me the push I needed to pursue what I was really passionate about. Katie Rasinski and Kim Mattison welcomed me with open arms to my first “Big Girl” job and supported me through my short time there. Mae Sevick showed me the ins and outs of being on a (mostly male) leadership team. Sue Baile gave me a chance to make a career pivot and trusted me with so much.
Jess Brown and Sarah Quackenbush provide a masterclass in business ownership and humble leadership—the experience I get just from watching them work is priceless.
Alyssa DeNicolis supports me in so many ways (including therapist, sounding board, art director, lunch companion, and so much more) every damn day.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Alyssa DeNicolis
Account Director, Coven • She/Her
This blog series wasn't supposed to be like this.
We were working at a local coffee shop, brainstorming ideas for Women's History Month—it was Valentine's Day and Quack insisted on chocolate-covered strawberries for the table. Very on-brand.
This series was just going to be a single blog post, threading together a collection of short quotes and gushing about female mentorship at large. We shot out a short list of people in our networks who would have really interesting, valuable, perspectives on the topic. So, I started reaching out.
The thing is, when people started sharing...they didn't just share bullets, they started sharing really...beautiful stories. Calling out mentors by name, recounting specific moments that changed their lives and trajectories. Charisse's was the first that we received. I think I read it and responded something back like "CHILLS." It was true I had the goosebumps to prove it.
The essence of what I'm trying to say is that I expected people would have nuggets to share, but I didn't expect the whole meal. When it comes to female mentorship, there was simply so much to share, so many people to name-drop, and so many moments of both strength and empathy. So yeah, from there it became a series.
I can't speak for others as readers, but for me, it’s been quite powerful gathering these stories. It’s forced me to do a lot of reflection on my own journey, and about who I hope to be to others. Being a woman can feel unfair, and daunting, and at times disheartening. But there’s nothing like a community of women who know how to restore. When somebody fills my cup, I can’t wait to fill others’.
So to all of the mentors and friends who have filled my metaphorical cup—and sometimes a real cup, if that cup is a wine glass—thank you.
To Kristi Stewart, my first boss fresh out of college, thank you for seeing something in me and being such a powerful catalyst for my growth. And Steph Senkewicz for your undying patience, warmth, and Borat impressions. To Lauren Looney, for always having the answer, both professionally and personally. To Crosby Stone, the phrase “work wife” makes me quite literally want to vomit, but it’s truly what you are to me. And finally, to Sarah Quackenbush and Jess Brown, who have carved out a little space in this world where I feel valued, seen, and safe to grow.
And if you’ve made it this far, thanks for coming along. I hope you use this as a reminder to thank the people who have filled your cup.
——
Making Mentors celebrates the positive impact women have on one another and society, but one noticeable trend is clear: the optimism and grace of women who've had a greater presence of female leaders in their careers is a testament to the transformative power of breaking boundaries and replacing glass ceilings with opportunities. By continuing to pave the way, we are all making stronger mentors for future generations. Hell yea, we WILL close the gap.
✨ For more thoughts, industry interviews, and general tomfoolery, keep following along on Banter ✨
In honor of Women’s History Month, we're celebrating the women who lead with empathy, tenacity, and goodness. We're paying tribute to the mentors, colleagues, teachers, and friends who found time to listen and see something that often escaped us in the mirror. We are better, wiser, and stronger because of you.
Welcome to our fourth and final Making Mentors post. This time, our Coven crew weighs in. While this feels like a bittersweet ending to a powerful month, if this series taught us anything, it's that this is only the beginning.
And as always, thank you to those who have read, supported, and shared your stories. Y'all the best.
Sarah Quackenbush
Co-Founder & President, Coven • She/Her
I've got to be honest. I didn't think this through. I didn't consider how challenging it would be to write about my own experience when we decided to do this series. It's taken me some time to articulate what female mentorship, or lack thereof, had on my professional trajectory. And frankly, compared to the thoughtful and honest insights from our amazing contributors, I'm afraid I may come up short by comparison. The truth is, I don't think I found my female mentors until I was in my 40s.
Let me begin with an admission: I am a proud member of Generation X, and a card-carrying latchkey kid. Many of you might understand what this means, but for those of you who don't, the children of Generation X grew up during a time when it seemed like almost everyone's parents were divorced, or both parents worked outside of the home. Frankly, we didn't have a whole lot of adult supervision as kids, so we had to figure shit out for ourselves. Gen X is also known for being skeptical of institutions and authority. It's not our fault.
So what's a young girl supposed to do with all of these societal forces colliding with a lack of adult supervision, and the responsibility for making sure their little brother does his homework and doesn't get kidnapped after school?
In my case, the only thing a girl can do is develop a fierce, almost impenetrable sense of independence and self-reliance. I knew that if I wanted something, I couldn't dare ask for it. My sense of personal accountability and a strong work ethic are parts of my personality that I’m particularly proud of. But, they also make asking for—and accepting—help really uncomfortable for me. Maybe I missed out on valuable female mentorship because I wasn't open to it, or maybe it's because there weren't a lot of female mentors to be found when I was coming up. Probably both.
If At First You Don't Succeed…
The first time I worked directly for a woman was a nightmare. I was 16, and she was a florist. While I loved the job, my boss was an abusive tyrant. I wouldn't choose to work for another one for nearly 10 years.
It was then that I got my first job in advertising, thanks to a young woman (Sam Adey) who was willing to take a chance on a bartender with bad bangs and no experience, and a daring agency owner. That first agency job defined the phrase “sink or swim,” but leading by example, Sam taught me when it was OK to fight for what I thought was right (almost always) and when to keep my trap shut (almost never). Sam would eventually leave the industry, but she helped make me a “professional,” and always had my back. She still does. 🙂
Around that time I began to realize that while I had a ton of female peers, very few women held senior leadership positions in Baltimore agencies. There simply wasn’t anyone who had accomplished what I wanted to accomplish that I could look to for advice and guidance. I soon learned that neither the ad industry nor Baltimore was unique in that way.
As I progressed through my career, I was fortunate to have a few managers and other senior leaders who saw my potential and made sure that I had access to opportunities to further my career. Though they were all men, I'm incredibly grateful to them because they helped me without my having to ask. However, despite some of their best efforts, they simply could not grasp the obstacles that are unique to women in this field. Like, how to be successful without having to act like a man…How to leverage the unique set of skills inherent to women without looking weak or soft…How to have a family and a personal life, while continuing to throw your heart and soul into your work…How to hold people accountable without being a “bitch”...How to establish boundaries without seeming cold…How to be taken seriously while wearing a skirt...How to remain relevant as you age…How to recover from crying in front of your coworkers when frustration overtakes you…
Looking back, it didn't occur to me as early as it should have that I'd end up being the person that I’d been looking for throughout my career. But, once I realized that I was that person, I committed myself to take it seriously. To help outstanding passionate young people achieve their goals. To lead with empathy. To make connections. To listen, to make myself available as best I can (see boundaries) to be a sounding board, shoulder, and sometimes ass-kicker. To make space for women at the table. To be someone that people trust enough to be vulnerable around. To provide honest feedback, even when it's hard to hear. To always try to understand before reacting. To live and lead with integrity and by example. To remain aware enough to know that sometimes I'm an example of what NOT to do (I believe there's value in that too). To break down barriers. To be fair, to let people know that they don't have to figure shit out on their own.
Making Room
More than anything, I see my role as a female mentor to take up as much space as I can. To create room for other, smarter, and more creative women to take my place when it's time for me to go.
It's so important that young women have people they can look to help them avoid or overcome the challenges faced by the previous generation. And getting to be a mentor has been one of the most rewarding (and emotionally exhausting) facets of my career. Mentorship has given me an invaluable perspective. Do I always get it right? Hell no. I'm still working on asking for and receiving help. But I'm making progress.
Jess Brown
Co-Founder & Chief Creative, Coven • She/Her
Mentoring is different from being a mentor. Receiving mentorship is not the same thing as having a mentor. Just like teaching doesn't automatically make you, a teacher. The difference, a critical one, is commitment.
Here’s the thing, I think mentors are like soulmates—not everyone has the good fortune of finding their counterpart. And, much like soulmates, the dynamic is mutually beneficial albeit providing different values. Both individuals are aware of their bond and the profound impact they have on one another It's intimate. My opinion, of course.
Do I have a soulmate? Sure don’t, and apologies to anyone who feels slighted by that statement. Frankly, I think my soulmate may have been my late dog Lyla, but I digress.
I do have partners—professionally and personally who enrich my life beyond anything I could have imagined.
Do I have a mentor? Nope. Some mentoring has come my way—mostly from men further up the creative ladder. I appreciate them. I value their experience. But, we've never walked in each others shoes. Never will.
Am I a mentor? No again. I’ve come pretty close to doing some mentoring, but I’m not confident both parties knew that was my intention. Sooo, no, not a mentor. Would I like to be a mentor one day? Hell yea.
Role Models Aren’t Mentors
What I can say is that I’ve been a role model for a lot of women, and maybe even some men along the way. I like to think I’ve demonstrated what a little confidence and loads of tenacity can do in a professional setting. There’s no doubt I’ve made mistakes that others can learn from without having to repeat. Hopefully, my willingness to take risks and fail fast have left a positive impression somewhere. I didn’t leave agency life after childbirth, thought about it, but I stayed. Yes, a role model.
My Army of Women
Throughout my career in marketing, there have been very few women leading creative departments. There were even less female leaders when I took a brief detour in the tech space. I haven’t had a lot of female role models in my position to emulate, and of the few I’ve encountered, even less of them were mothers. Forget role models, there wasn’t an ideal female mentor in sight. I barely noticed.
Instead of a mentor to aid in my professional development, I’ve been surrounded by an army of women teaching me lessons, opening doors, and influencing how I approach situations. Most of them probably don’t even know it, because I’ve been quietly collecting their wisdom to guide me through challenges. In fact, that's the crazy thing about role models. They aren't always aware of the crucial role they play. I should do a better job of showing my gratitude.
You don’t have all day, so allow me to thank a very truncated list.
Joyce Whitney
Thank you for teaching me how to fan the flames of young ambition, even if it means supporting their move to a different company.
……
Nichole Baccala-Ward
Thank you for creating the first family-friendly agency culture I’d experienced, and for demonstrating the importance of playing the long game when running a business.
……
Meagan Petri
Thank you for being an incredibly talented and challenging employee who made me a better leader. Maybe even a better person?
……
Trish McClean
Thank you for setting high standards and not being afraid to ask for them—or fight for them—when necessary. Thanks for giving me confidence that motherhood and marketing CAN co-exist.
……
Holly Moring
Thank you for showing me that women are allowed to be brilliant and totally weird at the same time. Your authenticity was inspiring.
……
Kate Fulks
Thank you for being unflappable and for setting the bar when it comes to having professional boundaries. You could teach a masterclass. Quack would be your first student. 😉
……
Mrs. Franco
Thank you for making me read my AP English papers to you out loud while you mercilessly marked them up—I’m a better copy editor for it. And, thank you for doubting my choice to go to art school. Proving you wrong has been a pleasure.
……
Sarah Quackenbush
Thank you for trusting our friendship enough to be my business partner.
……
Not sure where I’d be without all of you, but I do know one thing: I wouldn’t trade my time with you, or any other unnamed members of my army, for a “mentor.” Who I am today isn’t thanks to one brave soul who was willing to take me under her wing despite my insufferable ambition and skepticism for authority. I never received my signed copy of “How To Be A Creative Director in a Man’s World.” And, I think that’s alright.
I would, however, like to be that brave soul for a younger version of me one day.
Bad Habits Are Hard, Not Impossible, To Break
The thing is, my career has also been influenced by a lot of other factors and societal paradigms. Emulating men in my position was a fun experiment, cut short and proven flawed by motherhood. I catch myself apologizing for no damn reason. Sigh, I almost apologized here. I’m a 40 year old woman who still doesn’t consistently advocate for herself and forgets that I am allowed to have a say in my own daily schedule. I possess an unhealthy desire to be the underdog, because nothing feels better than proving the doubters wrong—especially when you're a woman. Asking for help still feels like a foreign language. I don't take skincare seriously enough. You get the point, I’m a work in progress.
As a senior leader, I have an obligation to support women in the workforce—that may be the only way we ever truly close the gender gap. Being a positive female influence who advocates on behalf of other women, is a big part of why Coven exists. We're hell bent on rewriting the narrative in our industry. Here, I’m still dabbling in the art of role modeling—just not mentor material. Yet.
Actually, if anyone knows a woman who might be a match for a motivated, but slightly damaged, creative mentee like me, send her my way.
Crosby Stone
Creative Operations Director, Coven • She/Her
I will start this in the most cliche way possible—my most impactful female role model has always been my mom. I was raised in a household where my mom was the breadwinner and taught me everything I needed to know about climbing a corporate ladder. I’ve been telling a story with data since before I knew how to drive a car. I’ve also known, inherently, that being a woman who climbs that ladder isn’t always the norm. I had to watch my mom fight for every position, get looked over for promotions, and just generally deal with being a woman involved in leadership in the early 2000s. (If you know, you know.)
The thing is, having the privilege of coming from a family of strong matriarchs (my mom’s headstrong personality was passed down from her mom, my Nunni) gave me the greatest gift—I knew from a very young age just how important it was to have some sort of female voice in anything I was a part of. Those women showed me how to be firm and kind. Be taken seriously and connect with people. Fight my way through any situation with a smile on my face. And, most importantly, gave me the confidence to believe that I deserved to be in any position that I earned, regardless of my gender.
That confidence, not just from my family but from countless other strong-willed, badass, endlessly knowledgeable women mentors, paved the way for me to pass on my experience. I had the privilege of running an internship program where I got to mentor up and coming women designers—something that I’m immensely grateful for.
All that to say, women are pretty much the only reason I’m at this point in my career. My mom gave me the push I needed to pursue what I was really passionate about. Katie Rasinski and Kim Mattison welcomed me with open arms to my first “Big Girl” job and supported me through my short time there. Mae Sevick showed me the ins and outs of being on a (mostly male) leadership team. Sue Baile gave me a chance to make a career pivot and trusted me with so much.
Jess Brown and Sarah Quackenbush provide a masterclass in business ownership and humble leadership—the experience I get just from watching them work is priceless.
Alyssa DeNicolis supports me in so many ways (including therapist, sounding board, art director, lunch companion, and so much more) every damn day.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Alyssa DeNicolis
Account Director, Coven • She/Her
This blog series wasn't supposed to be like this.
We were working at a local coffee shop, brainstorming ideas for Women's History Month—it was Valentine's Day and Quack insisted on chocolate-covered strawberries for the table. Very on-brand.
This series was just going to be a single blog post, threading together a collection of short quotes and gushing about female mentorship at large. We shot out a short list of people in our networks who would have really interesting, valuable, perspectives on the topic. So, I started reaching out.
The thing is, when people started sharing...they didn't just share bullets, they started sharing really...beautiful stories. Calling out mentors by name, recounting specific moments that changed their lives and trajectories. Charisse's was the first that we received. I think I read it and responded something back like "CHILLS." It was true I had the goosebumps to prove it.
The essence of what I'm trying to say is that I expected people would have nuggets to share, but I didn't expect the whole meal. When it comes to female mentorship, there was simply so much to share, so many people to name-drop, and so many moments of both strength and empathy. So yeah, from there it became a series.
I can't speak for others as readers, but for me, it’s been quite powerful gathering these stories. It’s forced me to do a lot of reflection on my own journey, and about who I hope to be to others. Being a woman can feel unfair, and daunting, and at times disheartening. But there’s nothing like a community of women who know how to restore. When somebody fills my cup, I can’t wait to fill others’.
So to all of the mentors and friends who have filled my metaphorical cup—and sometimes a real cup, if that cup is a wine glass—thank you.
To Kristi Stewart, my first boss fresh out of college, thank you for seeing something in me and being such a powerful catalyst for my growth. And Steph Senkewicz for your undying patience, warmth, and Borat impressions. To Lauren Looney, for always having the answer, both professionally and personally. To Crosby Stone, the phrase “work wife” makes me quite literally want to vomit, but it’s truly what you are to me. And finally, to Sarah Quackenbush and Jess Brown, who have carved out a little space in this world where I feel valued, seen, and safe to grow.
And if you’ve made it this far, thanks for coming along. I hope you use this as a reminder to thank the people who have filled your cup.
——
Making Mentors celebrates the positive impact women have on one another and society, but one noticeable trend is clear: the optimism and grace of women who've had a greater presence of female leaders in their careers is a testament to the transformative power of breaking boundaries and replacing glass ceilings with opportunities. By continuing to pave the way, we are all making stronger mentors for future generations. Hell yea, we WILL close the gap.
✨ For more thoughts, industry interviews, and general tomfoolery, keep following along on Banter ✨
Ready for more? Keep bantering.
