Mentorship as Creative Fuel: Why I Keep Showing Up
Last October, I was invited to judge portfolios at Portfolio Night with The One Club. What I didn’t expect was how hooked I’d become. Mentorship has since become my creative fuel, my creative crack. There’s something intoxicating about seeing a young designer light up when their work is understood, or when advice clicks into place. It reminds me why I started, and why I keep going.
This month’s MentorMeet at Cutwater Agency brought that feeling rushing back.
Cutwater itself is a place that demands creativity: sails hanging from the ceiling, a boat motor tucked into the walls—like a ship permanently caught mid-journey. But the true spark wasn’t in the décor. It was in the crowd.
I watched mentees walk in nervously, clutching their portfolios. Some had laptops, some didn’t. One young designer, anxiously admitted she only had her work on her phone. And I loved that. It doesn’t matter what device you use—it matters that you show up.
So I told her, “Yes, the content should scale—phone, browser, whatever works. But don’t let the format stop you. If it’s a PowerPoint, I’m game. If it takes a minute to pull from Google Docs, I’ll wait. This is why this event exists.” 💕
Because these spaces are about learning, not perfection. They’re about building confidence, sharing what you’ve got, and walking away a little stronger.
And it’s not just about mentees. I heard a story from a fellow mentor that struck me: years ago, she attended a lecture by Chuck McBride, the founder of Cutwater. She soaked in his wisdom, and now, years later, she’s a renowned creative director herself—standing here as a mentor. Full circle. That’s the passion and generosity that keeps this community alive, and it inspires me to keep showing up too.
At the same time, I found myself surrounded by fellow mentors—directors, designers, creative leaders I deeply admire. We compared notes, swapped insights, and yes, peeked into each other’s portfolios. Because mentorship isn’t one-directional. Even seasoned pros grow by sharing openly, and by reminding ourselves that creativity is not a competition.
We are not rivals. We are rare, niche individuals—and we thrive when we collaborate.
If there’s one piece of advice I keep returning to for the next generation, it’s this: learn how to position yourself. Your skills are not just tasks—they’re your product. Know your value. Share it with confidence.
Fifteen years ago, when I was starting out in UX and web design, I would have killed for something like this. Ten years ago, when I first moved to San Francisco, I longed for mentors who could open doors. Now, I’m proud to be one of those people offering the hand I once wished for.
That’s why I’ll keep showing up. Not just for the mentees who are building their first bridges into the industry—but for the community itself. MentorMeet isn’t about a single night. It’s about building a culture where generosity, creativity, and ambition live side by side.
And if this is what the next generation looks like, then the creative future isn’t just in good hands—it’s in brilliant, collaborative, resilient ones.
If you’re a creative looking for guidance—or just to connect—my inbox is open.
Gratitude Roll Call 💕
None of this magic happens alone. MentorMeet works because of the people who pour their time, energy, and heart into it. So here’s my round of applause:
Chuck McBride – obvious, right? A legend and the anchor of this whole community.
Chip (aka Jon Soto) – the hella cool dude with the attitude I live for.
Jesse Ratner – your prolific writing lights a fire under me to write more. And let’s be real: that emoji post idea? Pure genius.
Robin Milgrim – thank you for sharing the NYC story of learning from Chuck. Pure inspiration.
Kelly McCullough – for hosting and being my fashion icon (seriously, thank you very much).
Libby Brockhoff – the force of nature keeping this initiative alive. I still don’t know how you answer all those emails (please, wise one, teach me your inbox ways).
Lana Getz – the reason I’m even here. You invited me one random October day, and honestly? I don’t know how I existed before that.
And so many, many more. It really does take a village to foster creativity—and what a beautiful, inspiring village this is.
