Mentoring is the Ultimate Profession: A Personal Journey
Mentoring is the key to unlocking potential, and it's a role we all play, whether we realize it or not.
When I embarked on my coding journey 43 years ago, I was a novice, clueless about the professional world. I had dabbled in BASIC and Z80 assembler, but the intricacies of being a junior engineer were a mystery.
But here's where it gets controversial... I was fortunate to have two exceptional mentors, John and Ethan, who guided me through my first job after university. John, a master of the 8085 CPUs, and Ethan, a systems wizard, shared their expertise freely. Their guidance was invaluable, and it set the foundation for my career.
A mentor's role is crucial; they know when to let go and let their mentee fly solo. In my two years with John and Ethan, I made mistakes, but I also learned the fundamentals of software engineering, skills that sustained me for a decade.
And this is the part most people miss... Mentoring is not just about teaching; it's about nurturing talent. As I progressed, I realized my own limitations as a mentor. I lacked the innate patience required to deeply guide junior engineers. However, I did my best with the knowledge I had.
Today, I reflect on how I could have improved. My involvement with Virtual Reality Markup Language (VRML) in 1994 put me in a unique position to mentor an entire community of 3D web enthusiasts. I needed guidance, and that's where Owen Rowley stepped in.
Owen, with his rich history in Silicon Valley, was a mentor extraordinaire. From possibly creating the world's first mousepad to working with Nolan Bushnell and Hewlett-Packard, his stories were a treasure trove of wisdom. When I met Owen, he was the sysadmin for Autodesk's Cyberspace Development Group, the hub of commercial VR. He shared his insights on managing a team of brilliant, ego-driven individuals.
"Make people feel valued. Roll out the welcome mat. Make it easy for them to contribute and be recognized," he advised.
A controversial take: In today's open-source world, these principles are common knowledge. But in the early '90s, they were revolutionary. I embraced Owen's guidance, transforming from a reluctant mentor to an enthusiastic one. I connected, listened, taught, and promoted, understanding that helping others with VRML would ultimately benefit the technology.
"We're a community, and we've got to act like one," Owen emphasized.
Community meant safety and support. Owen didn't tolerate bullying, and I followed his lead, privately addressing and, when necessary, removing individuals who caused harm. This approach created a safe space for collaboration and growth.
VR's popularity waned before the millennium, but Owen and I continued our paths, always able to rely on each other for advice and support. He finished his career as a sysadmin for Fidelity Investments, retiring just as cloud and virtualization changed the game.
I learned an invaluable lesson from Owen: the art of mentoring. When I purchased a used SPARCstation to code the first VRML version, Owen patiently guided me through UNIX. After my second system-nuking incident, he looked me in the eye and said, "This is the last time." A true mentor knows when to let go.
These days, mentoring is a significant part of my work, and I owe it all to Owen. He taught me the patience and skill to guide others. Mentoring is the ultimate profession, and it's a role we all play, whether we realize it or not.
In memory of D. Owen Rowley (1947-2025). ®
