In a piece I casually scrolled past (you know how it is, when you read something intriguing but fail to bookmark it), I discovered a wonderfully apt metaphor. The author (a Canadian it think) compared managers to a cacophony of whining toddlers in the backseat, all desperately clamoring for immediate results, soiling the rear windows with there sticky hands. And if their demands aren’t met promptly, the tears, the complaints, and the endless griping begin. "Are we there yet?" "This is taking ages!" "Whyyyy?"
Ring any bells? I see this behavior too, not just from my children on any journey exceeding fifteen minutes without WiFi, but also in the realm of intern supervision.
Am I alone in this?
Hardly.
A dutch study on workplace mentors in the metal industry illustrated that the main grievance for trainers was the overbearing pressure from managers prioritizing production, with mentoring merely tacked on as an inconvenient necessity. Similarly, recent discussions with healthcare mentors underscored a like sentiment: while mentoring is rewarding, the lack of time and space afforded by management often relegates it to a lesser priority.
Everywhere I turn, the echo is the same: a widespread desire to dedicate more time to interns. Yet, invariably, the conclusion drawn is, "But yes, management evaluates me on other metrics, so those take precedence."
These are all reasonable arguments, undoubtedly. However, I believe this issue arises from an erroneous focus—a focus on ticking boxes and marking 'complete',
That’s wrong.
The focus should not be merely on reaching the destination but on appreciating the journey and the invaluable lessons it can impart.
To use another metaphor: Managers often act like overzealous gardeners, snipping away with their gardening tools at agenda items, because a multitude of goals must bloom within a specific season. Sure, all this frantic pruning can seem necessary, but internships are not the sort of plants that thrive under the rush of a gardener’s impatience. They are more akin to slow growing trees, requiring time, care, and a steady hand to truly flourish.
These aren't mere decorative additions to your corporate landscape; they are deep-rooted investments in learning, development, and your employer brand. Such investments do not yield fruit with the bitcoin approach of 'quickly snatching profits'. They thrive on sustained attention and nurture.
Face it: when an intern steps into your company, the question isn’t if you have time to mentor. It’s an always on task; an all-season job. Even if you’re not actively doing it, you're still influencing, like the background music in a café, subtle but impactful. Too little attention, indeed, yet still, you are shaping the professional growth of a young aspirant.
What do you think that experience is like?
Well, imagine if you ignored the noisy toddlers in the backseat and focused on the scenic route instead. Take the student under your wing and let that manager shout into the wind, sending increasingly annoyed e-mails using ever more CAPS LOCK.
The intern will be profoundly grateful when you finally reach your destination together. And that gratitude is more valuable for your company in terms of employer branding, onboarding, recruitment, and retention than a chorus of hotheads who relentlessly hammer their demands into your inbox.