Yesterday, with tears rolling down my face, I sent a note to a great military leader who is one of my mentors. There were many things I wanted to say to explain what is happening in our country, but I settled on a few simple sentiments.
I told him that I loved him and that he helped make me the man I am today. He was like a father to me – stern, fair, wise, and motivating. Then I told him that I wished our nation invested more time in having older men mentor younger men. My belief in the power of mentorship makes me believe that you cannot easily unjustly treat someone you love.
His short response was personal, and it meant the world to me.
Lessons From My Mentors
I want to share some of the lessons I learned from my wisest mentors. I grew up with a father and grandfathers, so I was at an advantage in our society. However, my father was a high school drop-out who was blind in one eye and couldn’t teach me about the military. My arrival in the 82nd Airborne meant that I would get plenty of fathers and brothers to show me the way. For almost two years, my entire enlisted NCO support channel (like a chain of command), from squad leader to battalion sergeant major, was black. The Army had taught me that we bleed green in basic infantry training so well that I never noticed that fact until later in life.
Squad Leader
My squad leader was big and looked intimidating. He actually had a quiet voice that didn’t match his bicep circumference. He watched me fail push-ups on my first physical fitness test when I arrived, and he told me I wouldn’t last if I didn’t give 100%. He made sure I gave it every day after that. He pushed me, and I met his standards. When he went off to a multi-week course, he put me in charge of his squad as a 20-year-old E-4. He challenged me and trusted me. I wanted to make him proud of me. I still do.
Platoon Sergeant
My platoon sergeant was nicknamed Stormin’ Norman. He was a staff sergeant but wise for his age and also quiet for his size. He was the kind of guy you wouldn’t anger at a bar, but the real giant was his heart. He took an interest in me, too. He suggested I be an officer one day. He was a tough airborne ranger who called all the best cadences on our runs. He taught me lessons like a grandfather would, quietly off to the side, never embarrassing me, but ensuring I got the point. One day, when as we stood in 40-degree weather for a battalion dress uniform inspection, he put us at rest so we could warm our hands. Because this was breaking a hardened rule, he asked each of us to look in our pockets for his missing car keys. We played the game for a couple minutes, and we all grinned at the ruse.
Fort Benning and College Life
Both my old squad leader and platoon sergeant would end up at Fort Benning when I went off to college in Alabama just an hour from them. I called on them and continued to get counsel as a ROTC cadet. Out of everything that I learned from those two men, the most important was to lead with your heart, to use compassion when you demand high standards. To build a team is the real job of a leader, but empathy is an important piece of the puzzle. I recall to this day when they saw my body after a canceled rainy parachute jump as I changed into a dry t-shirt. I was 140 pounds and covered in red stripes from carrying my gear as part of a 2-man machine gun team for that jump. My pack was easily 90 pounds for a training jump when most carried 45 or 50. Quickly and quietly, they created 3-man teams to distribute the weight of the kit. My back and knees thank them daily.
First Sergeant
My first sergeant was another giant of a man with a loud voice to match his stature. But he was fair and quite funny when you got him alone. Even as a private first class, when I was helping him drive food to our unit in the field, we shared a laugh. The roads were muddy and our Humvee was in three feet of mud on a firebreak just floating sideways downhill in the slop. He never pronounced my name correctly once in two years, and always asked me if “Hawk” was an Indian name. He was a good man who made me strive harder.
Command Sergeant Major
Finally, in that two year stretch there was my command sergeant major, a thin quiet man who never seemed to smile. He was fair and demanded high standards. After foot surgery, I was tasked to drive him for a week while I healed. I got to see him up close and see his compassion for his paratroopers.
Other Mentors Along the Way
There were others in my career in that same infantry company that made me a better leader. I left for a year to serve in a pathfinder unit and came back to the Rock. This time I worked with a fellow sergeant that gave me more insights into his treatment in America. He was an amazing person I tried to emulate. I also had a new first sergeant that would rise to the highest ranks of our Army. He was another quiet giant that had to have his uniforms altered to fit his arms in them. From that first sergeant, I saw that accountability started at the top. He expected leaders to ensure everything was right. He never punished a young paratrooper for a mistake his sergeant should have corrected. We worked-out in the evenings at the same gym sharing the pull-up/dip bar so I got to see him out of work when his guard was down. He was my last senior NCO while I was enlisted. As I out-processed from the Army, he gave me useful advice about becoming an officer and a better leader.
I learned so much from these men, but I wish I had listened more and gotten them to open up about their lives so I was more prepared to be an active part of the solution to the problem of how black men and women are too often treated in America. After leaving the care of my sergeants I entered Tuskegee University, a historically black college. Every day I got to hear the question, “what are you doing here?” It was an interesting life lesson to be in the minority every day, but my treatment there was wonderful from students to teachers and of course from my ROTC buddies. We know that is not always the case when the tables are turned on black men and women.
Personal Mentoring
All of this mentorship and experience found its purpose when I became a surrogate father for a 6-year-old boy in Texas being raised by his mom and grandmother. His father was black and his mother was white, and the father lived out of the state. Through a big-brother program we were randomly matched up and he changed my life. I got to think about all the things my mentors had gone through in their daily life. To worry about the world, he would grow up in. How he would need to react when he started to drive and the police pulled him over. I thank God now for ensuring I was raised by strong black men so that I knew what to teach him.
My Brothers Keeper
My mentors taught me to never just identify a problem, that you must also offer a solution. One of the ideas I sent to the Obama Administration in 2009 was to develop a national mentorship program to ensure every child that needed a male role-model could find one. I suggested using the military members stationed across our nation as a source for mentors. Some of this idea I saw in the My Brothers Keeper program. I would modify my suggestion today to use our law enforcement officers as the mentor pool for every child in America who needs a role model.
Leaders Along the Way Shape Us
I used to think my leadership was heavily influenced by serving in a regiment under officers like McChrystal, Abizaid, Ferriter, and Petraeus, but I think all along, it was influenced by NCOs. The men who raised me from private to sergeant and pushed me to become an officer are the ones who molded and shaped me. I am thankful for them every day. I would not have wanted to be turned into a man by anyone else.
