I want you to surpass me
This year, I had the privilege of teaching and mentoring my first student. I’m still early in my journey as a mentor, so I haven’t had many instances to meaningfully understand if my thoughts on mentoring are correct (…sorry to the unfortunate future test subjects), but I’ve written them down as principles to guide me.
This is a list of the lessons that I’ve acquired from all my mentors, blended in with my own extremely opinionated thoughts. And while it’s most relevant to academia (where I received the most training), I intend to extrapolate the lessons to any other field I pursue.
If I supervise and mentor correctly, then you’re on track to or will surpass me. Everything that I’ve learnt is to be passed on with nothing to be withheld out of fear that you will become better than me. And with whatever role you want to next pursue, you will be brimming with confidence with no fear of imposter syndrome. (That been said, I still encourage embracing this fear because it likely means that you’re no longer the smartest person in the room and you therefore have an opportunity to learn, to once again break through your ceiling.) You will no longer need me.
This will always be an asymmetric relationship. I will never expect any kind of thank you. I will give more than what you provide in return.
Recognise the latent talent or potential within you and know when to push to break your ceiling. This means seeing something in you that you yourself haven’t and giving you an opportunity to grow to gain new confidence. It won’t necessarily be a grand gesture. One of my past supervisors did this by forcing me not to use ‘presenter view’ for Powerpoint which made me realise for the first time that I never needed it as a crutch.
I will push you to the breaking point, perhaps to the edge of tears. I know this is aggressive, but this is counterintuitively how I express my care for you. If I didn’t care about you, would I ever go to such extremes? You can tell when a mentor no longer is interested in you or your work when they don’t specifically give constructive feedback because this requires effort rather than a generic throwaway ‘good job’ comment. These moments where the standards I hold you to might feel overwhelming, but they come from a belief in your potential, never as a motive to diminish or destroy you.
I want to maximise your joy. Especially for students entering research for the first time, I want your first experience to be fully focused on the science, not the mundane or burdensome admin. I will take on that burden, just as my PhD supervisor did in the past.
Always maintain a beginner’s mind. Don’t assume that I know everything or that every suggestion by a beginner is stupid. Good and bad ideas can come from anyone. This of course means setting up an environment that encourages voicing ideas without fear from anyone regardless of their experience level.
I cannot remain stagnant otherwise I will be oblivious to the existing or latent talent in front of me. I have to be exceptional myself to be able to recognise it.
I will be supportive of your choice of what you want to pursue next even if that choice means all the lessons I’ve imparted never quite get maximally utilised. (But in my opinion, you can extract lessons out of anything and apply it to other fields so it’s never ill-wasted). You will not be penalised because your decision somehow is not in my favour or to my advantage. Anyone that’s come across my path, know that I want you to flourish, so making you stay in a suboptimal path penalises me - it only hurts me.
I need to be a reader of the heart. I cannot treat mentees as robots that are only responsible for carrying out work. I need to be able to recognise when something is troubling you, even more so when you might fear that communicating your concern is a sign of perceived weakness.
Minimise spoon feeding. I have to give you the opportunity to make mistakes, some of which might be painful but necessary to imprint the lesson into you so you no longer make costly mistakes. You need these opportunities to think for yourself.
To show genuine interest in your output. To be excited about the data you generate, to offer new perspectives and possibilities that spark new curiosity or enthusiasm as your eyes light up. I still vividly remember been frustrated in having to deliver my first set of data to what I thought was ‘negative’ to my PhD supervisor, yet she was able to not only completely change the perspective to one of positivity but also made me realise that there were so many interesting downstream questions that we could pursue.
If you’re reading this and I’ve played a role in your growth, thank you for giving me the opportunity to teach. And to my mentors: thank you. Most of everything I’ve learnt has been directly gained from you or absorbed indirectly through your actions.
P.S. Emily, as my first student, you are the reason this essay exists. Even if you haven’t realised what you were doing, thank you for helping me understand the mentor that I am and want to become.
Melbourne, 25 August 2026
Last updated 25 August 2026
I want you to surpass me
This year, I had the privilege of teaching and mentoring my first student. I’m still early in my journey as a mentor, so I haven’t had many instances to meaningfully understand if my thoughts on mentoring are correct (…sorry to the unfortunate future test subjects), but I’ve written them down as principles to guide me.
This is a list of the lessons that I’ve acquired from all my mentors, blended in with my own extremely opinionated thoughts. And while it’s most relevant to academia (where I received the most training), I intend to extrapolate the lessons to any other field I pursue.
If I supervise and mentor correctly, then you’re on track to or will surpass me. Everything that I’ve learnt is to be passed on with nothing to be withheld out of fear that you will become better than me. And with whatever role you want to next pursue, you will be brimming with confidence with no fear of imposter syndrome. (That been said, I still encourage embracing this fear because it likely means that you’re no longer the smartest person in the room and you therefore have an opportunity to learn, to once again break through your ceiling.) You will no longer need me.
This will always be an asymmetric relationship. I will never expect any kind of thank you. I will give more than what you provide in return.
Recognise the latent talent or potential within you and know when to push to break your ceiling. This means seeing something in you that you yourself haven’t and giving you an opportunity to grow to gain new confidence. It won’t necessarily be a grand gesture. One of my past supervisors did this by forcing me not to use ‘presenter view’ for Powerpoint which made me realise for the first time that I never needed it as a crutch.
I will push you to the breaking point, perhaps to the edge of tears. I know this is aggressive, but this is counterintuitively how I express my care for you. If I didn’t care about you, would I ever go to such extremes? You can tell when a mentor no longer is interested in you or your work when they don’t specifically give constructive feedback because this requires effort rather than a generic throwaway ‘good job’ comment. These moments where the standards I hold you to might feel overwhelming, but they come from a belief in your potential, never as a motive to diminish or destroy you.
I want to maximise your joy. Especially for students entering research for the first time, I want your first experience to be fully focused on the science, not the mundane or burdensome admin. I will take on that burden, just as my PhD supervisor did in the past.
Always maintain a beginner’s mind. Don’t assume that I know everything or that every suggestion by a beginner is stupid. Good and bad ideas can come from anyone. This of course means setting up an environment that encourages voicing ideas without fear from anyone regardless of their experience level.
I cannot remain stagnant otherwise I will be oblivious to the existing or latent talent in front of me. I have to be exceptional myself to be able to recognise it.
I will be supportive of your choice of what you want to pursue next even if that choice means all the lessons I’ve imparted never quite get maximally utilised. (But in my opinion, you can extract lessons out of anything and apply it to other fields so it’s never ill-wasted). You will not be penalised because your decision somehow is not in my favour or to my advantage. Anyone that’s come across my path, know that I want you to flourish, so making you stay in a suboptimal path penalises me - it only hurts me.
I need to be a reader of the heart. I cannot treat mentees as robots that are only responsible for carrying out work. I need to be able to recognise when something is troubling you, even more so when you might fear that communicating your concern is a sign of perceived weakness.
Minimise spoon feeding. I have to give you the opportunity to make mistakes, some of which might be painful but necessary to imprint the lesson into you so you no longer make costly mistakes. You need these opportunities to think for yourself.
To show genuine interest in your output. To be excited about the data you generate, to offer new perspectives and possibilities that spark new curiosity or enthusiasm as your eyes light up. I still vividly remember been frustrated in having to deliver my first set of data to what I thought was ‘negative’ to my PhD supervisor, yet she was able to not only completely change the perspective to one of positivity but also made me realise that there were so many interesting downstream questions that we could pursue.
If you’re reading this and I’ve played a role in your growth, thank you for giving me the opportunity to teach. And to my mentors: thank you. Most of everything I’ve learnt has been directly gained from you or absorbed indirectly through your actions.
P.S. Emily, as my first student, you are the reason this essay exists. Even if you haven’t realised what you were doing, thank you for helping me understand the mentor that I am and want to become.
Melbourne, 25 August 2026
Last updated 25 August 2026