For me, mentorship is not about authority; it's about collaboration. As a mentor and student, I don't see teaching as instruction but as an ongoing exchange of presence, perspective, and guidance. Guiding someone through their writing isn't about polishing their sentences—sure, it's satisfying. It's about asking the right questions at the right moment and knowing when to step back and let them take the wheel. As I've said quite a few times, I'm there to help them see clearly and make their own decisions with work, not "fix" it.

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I drew a lot from the readings this semester, one of them being Graff and Duffy's challenge to the literacy myth—the belief that a mastery of academic writing is the gateway to intellectual legitimacy. They say, "Like all myths, the literacy myth is not so much a falsehood but an expression of the ideology of those who sanction it and are invested in its outcomes."(Graff & Duffy, 2014). It made me realize that the standards we are naturally trained to uphold aren't neutral. They're shaped by histories that often exclude the students we hope to help. Literally going directly against the ASU charter, am I right? As a mentor, I revisited what it means to support growth. The academic voice isn't my default; a deviation isn't a deficiency but a means to build meaningful connections. 

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Mannon reframed how I think about being present. She says, "Emotional labor lies at the heart of writing center tutoring" (Mannon, 2021), yet we rarely address a practice or means to protect. What struck me was the two levels of thinking that tutors operate on, not just what feedback we give but how and when to deliver it most effectively. That dual awareness has been a key focus in my mentoring. I can follow a rubric and structure feedback, but how I manage my approach to someone else's work is what really matters. As Mannon names it, holding space, making choices with care, and being present. (If you like little mindful exercises, check out the video beside, I hope you enjoy it!)

I learn best by doing and unlearning. Working as a mentor and TA, I've reimagined what I thought was writing, assessment, and pedagogy. Rahman's call for flexibility helped me feel less guilty when plans didn't work out, as she says, "Some service is better than no service" (Rahman, 2024). Consistency matters, and so does intuition.

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At the center of all this is a learner trying to teach his learnings, a funny way to put it, but appropriate. I hope to become the teacher I need, one who knows when to hold on and let go of the rules. One who invites participation, not perfection. The best writing comes from students who are proud to sound like themselves, and the best teaching comes from those who are happy to listen.  

To anyone reading and unsure about taking that step, do it. Trying and failing will teach you more than hesitating ever will. Take me, for example; I couldn't imagine instructing. Messy start, steady climb. Onward and upward!