The Real Reason I Never Wanted a Mentor

Because I do not want to be called a “mentee.” Ever. I’m not kidding.

I don’t know who decided “mentee” was the right thing to call someone who receives mentoring. Maybe it was the guy who wrote this stunning work of linguistics. Let’s start with the origin of mentor.

Mentor was a friend of and advisor to Odysseus, king of Ithaca. Odysseus entrusted his son, Telemachus, to Mentor who cared for and educated him. Thus, Mentor’s name became synonymous with providing guidance. Makes sense.

Now consider English words like assignor and addressor. The first is one who assigns. The second is one who addresses. An assignee is assigned by an addressor; an addressee is likewise on the receiving end of the addressor. It’s easy to see where things went sideways and the fallacious mentor/mentee construct came from. But here’s the thing:

A mentor is not one who ments.

Mentoree would be better. One who is mentored is also fine, but it’s a bit clunky. And, yes, I get it. Language evolves. But its evolution should follow some basic rules and structures. Not whims. And certainly not made up or misunderstood etymology. I’ve always admired the French and their Académie française, which is charged with defending the French language. Though I’ll never understand how “le week-end” got past them.

But I do not truly object to having a mentor.

However, I would want him/her to refer to me as Telemachus. Or T-Mach. That would actually be kind of cool.

The image in this post is Telemachus and Mentor by Charles-Joseph Natoire.