How Mentors and Parents Can Work on the Same Team
The hallway outside Marisol’s apartment smelled like laundry detergent, burnt toast, and the damp carpet that never seemed to dry completely. I had already texted her son, Aaron, from the parking lot. My normal routine was simple: send the message, wait for Aaron to come down, buckle up, and get moving. It was efficient. It kept the pickup quick. It also kept me at a safe distance from a part of Aaron’s life that I did not yet understand.
That afternoon, I knew that if I only ever saw Aaron when he came down the stairs, I was going to miss too much of the world he was walking out of.
When Marisol opened the door, she had a phone tucked between her shoulder and ear. A toddler was crying in the back bedroom. A pot had boiled over on the stove, and the television was loud enough to fill every empty space in the apartment. She covered the phone and apologized for the mess.
I told her she did not need to apologize. Then I asked, “How has Aaron been doing this week?”
At first, Marisol gave the kind of answer tired parents learn to give when people ask a question but do not really want an answer. “He’s okay. You know. Just being a teenager.”
But I stayed at the door. I did not check my watch or look toward the stairs. I told her I had noticed Aaron had been quieter than usual and that I wanted to make sure I was understanding him well.
Something shifted in her face. The quick answer gave way to a real one. Marisol told me she had been working extra hours, Aaron had been helping more with his younger brother, and there had been a lot of stress in the apartment that week. She was worried about him, but she also looked like someone who had not had the energy to finish one thought before another need arrived.
I listened. I did not offer a quick plan. I did not tell Marisol what she should do. Before Aaron came out, I said, “I want you to know that he is respectful when we are together. He cares about people more than he lets on. That does not happen by accident. I can tell you are working hard.”
Marisol’s eyes filled up. She told me nobody had said anything like that to her in a long time.
I walked up those stairs thinking I was there to pick up a kid. I walked back down realizing I had been invited, even if only for a few minutes, into a family’s story.
A Mentee Never Comes Alone
Early in mentoring, I believed my primary responsibility was the young person in front of me. I wanted to invest in them, encourage them, challenge them, and help them grow. That sounds right, and it is part of the work. But I slowly realized that I was treating parents and caregivers like background information instead of recognizing that they were carrying the heaviest part of the child’s life every single day.
A mentor may get a ride after school or a meal every other week. A parent or guardian is carrying mornings, homework, bills, siblings, medical appointments, conflict, exhaustion, and countless decisions nobody sees. If I act like my relationship with the child is the only one that matters, I may be creating division without meaning to.
A mentor can become the fun adult, the safe alternative, or the person who seems to understand the child better than anyone at home. Before long, a relationship that was supposed to strengthen a family can start to feel like competition.
The goal is not to become the most important adult in a child’s life. The goal is to be one faithful adult who honors the people already raising them and helps build a stronger circle of support around the child.
The family is usually the most important human influence in a child’s life, even when it is imperfect, complicated, or under incredible pressure.
Marisol Had Information I Did Not Have
The conversation at the apartment door changed how I saw Aaron.
I had noticed him being quieter. I had wondered whether he was losing interest in our time together. I had even felt tempted to ask why he was acting distant. But Marisol helped me see what I could not see from my side of the relationship.
Aaron was not simply disengaged. He was tired. He was helping with his younger brother while his mom worked longer shifts. He was trying to carry some things without adding to her stress. He was showing up at school, coming home to responsibility, and trying to figure out how to be a kid and a helper at the same time.
That information changed the questions I asked and the way I responded. Instead of leading with frustration, I could lead with care.
Parents and caregivers often hold context we need in order to mentor well. They know the rhythms of home, hard days, family changes, and small wins that may not show up in our time together.
We should become humble students of the family’s story. A question like, “What should I know about this week?” can make a mentor wiser and more patient.
Honor Opens Doors That Strategy Cannot
One of the most powerful things a mentor can do is honor a parent or caregiver out loud.
Parents are often corrected, judged, and blamed. Many are carrying pressure that few people see, which is why specific encouragement can land so deeply.
When I told Marisol that Aaron’s respectfulness did not happen by accident, I was not flattering her. I was naming something I had actually seen. I was recognizing that her influence mattered, even in a season when she may have felt like she was barely holding things together.
A parent who feels honored is more likely to trust you and share honestly. That helps the adults work together for the mentee.
I have learned to look for tangible things I can affirm. “I noticed how much confidence she has when she talks about you.” “He told me you helped him study for that test.” “She is really thoughtful with younger kids, and I can see she has learned to care for people at home.” Specific encouragement tells a parent that you are paying attention to their child and that you respect the role they play.
Honor does not mean pretending every family situation is healthy. In situations involving safety concerns, reporting requirements, or harmful behavior, wise boundaries matter deeply. But even then, a mentor can refuse to bring contempt, secrecy, or unnecessary competition into a family system.
Do Not Let Venting Create Sides
One of the trickiest moments in mentoring comes when a mentee starts talking about home.
A young person may say their mom is unfair or their caregiver does not understand anything. Those feelings can be real. A mentor should not dismiss them or rush to defend the parent before the child feels heard.
But we also should not join the criticism.
It can feel easy to say, “Yeah, that does sound unfair,” in a way that quietly turns us into the ally against the parent. That may make a young person feel understood in the short term, but it can deepen division and position the mentor as the better adult.
A healthier response sounds more like, “That sounds really frustrating. What do you wish they understood?” or, “What happened right before that?” or, “Have you been able to tell her how that made you feel?”
Those questions make room for honesty without turning the conversation into a campaign against the family. We can validate emotion while still encouraging respect and healthy communication.
When appropriate, we can help the child think about repair: “Would you want help finding words for that conversation?” The goal is not to force reconciliation or pretend harm did not happen. It is to protect the relationship whenever that is safe and possible.
A Rhythm That Builds Trust
Partnership does not need to be complicated. Most of the time, it is built through small, consistent rhythms.
At pickup, get out of the car when you can. Walk to the door, say hello, learn names, and ask how the week has gone.
After a hangout, send a short update. Parents do not need a report after every interaction, but clear, consistent communication tells them you are trustworthy.
Ask what they hope for their child. This may be one of the most important questions a mentor can ask. “What do you want most for Aaron this year?” “What are you proud of in him?” “What is one area where you would love to see him grow?” Those questions communicate that you are not coming in with your own agenda. You want to serve the goals that matter to the family.
And when plans change, communicate early. A missed text or late arrival can feel small to a mentor, but it can add stress to an already busy household. Reliability is one of the clearest ways to honor a family.
Be a Student Before You Become a Voice
Every family has its own history, language, rhythms, and wounds. A mentor will not understand all of that in the first month, or maybe even the first year.
That is why humility matters. We do not walk into a family as the expert who has finally arrived to help them get it right. We come as a learner, a supporter, and an additional adult who wants to bring steadiness and care.
I have had to resist making quick conclusions based on a late pickup, a missed call, or something a child said in frustration. Every family has details we do not know. A mentor who moves slowly, asks thoughtful questions, and assumes there is more to the story will be far more helpful than one who rushes to judgment.
Being a student also means noticing family strength, whether it is a grandmother keeping kids connected, a mom working two jobs, or an older sibling bringing stability.
The Doorway Is Part of the Ministry
I think back to Marisol standing in that doorway with the phone pressed to her ear and chaos happening behind her. I could have stayed in the car. I could have treated the pickup like a transaction and missed that moment entirely.
But the doorway became part of the ministry.
The conversation did not take long, and I did not solve anything. But I saw a mom who needed encouragement and gained a clearer picture of a young man I wanted to mentor well.
Partnership helps us stop treating a child like an isolated project. Mentoring is not about pulling a young person away from their family. It is about stepping into their story with humility and strengthening the people already carrying the most responsibility.
When we honor parents, communicate consistently, listen for context, and refuse to create sides, we give kids something powerful. We give them adults who are working together.
A child should not have to choose between the mentor who believes in them and the family that raises them. Healthy mentoring lets them experience both.
Discussion Questions
Where might you be focusing so much on your mentee that you are overlooking the parent or caregiver who is carrying their daily life?
What is one specific, truthful encouragement you could offer a parent or guardian this week?
How can you help a mentee process frustration with home without creating division or taking sides?
