There was one unfinished part of the story.
Gratitude.
I knew the role my former GIS manager had played in changing the trajectory of my career.
I had never forgotten it.
But knowing that you are grateful and actually expressing that gratitude are two different things.
For years, I could not find the right words.
More than ten years after beginning my PhD, I finally did.
I sent her a message.
I told her that my silence over the years had never been a reflection of ingratitude. I had simply struggled to find words capable of expressing what her mentorship and intervention had meant to me.
She had helped me professionally.
She had encouraged me to look beyond short-term employment.
She had sent me the first PhD scholarship opportunity even though that application was unsuccessful.
She had sent another one.
And behind the scenes, without my knowledge at the time, she had supported my application through a strong motivational letter.
That second opportunity eventually took me to Rhodes University and into my PhD.
There was something I could finally say clearly:
I could not honestly tell the story of my career development without acknowledging the role she had played in it.
More than ten years later, I finally thanked her.
Why Do We Wait So Long?
Looking back, I sometimes wonder why it took me so long.
Perhaps people assume that those who helped them already know how important their contribution was.
But do they?
A lecturer can say something in a classroom and forget it.
A supervisor can recommend someone and continue with their work.
A mentor can forward an opportunity without knowing what that opportunity will eventually become.
The person making the intervention may eventually forget the moment.
The person whose life was changed by it may remember it forever.
That is one of the strange asymmetries of mentorship.
Nobody Is the Sole Author of Their Success
There are many things in this journey for which I can legitimately take responsibility.
I studied.
I worked.
I applied for jobs.
I attended interviews.
I took risks.
I completed the tasks given to me.
I applied for the scholarships.
I eventually completed the PhD.
Personal agency matters.
But reflection becomes self-congratulation if we selectively remember only the things we did for ourselves.
My journey contains interventions by other people.
A lecturer whose warning about internship exploitation came back to me when I needed to make a difficult decision.
A friend who sat with me while I deliberated over whether to remain an intern.
Managers who saw leadership potential in me before I had consciously identified it myself.
And later, a GIS manager whom I had not even met when I made the decision to go to George.
Somewhere in that complicated mixture are my own effort, other people’s interventions, unexpected opportunities, unsuccessful applications, coincidence, timing and perhaps things I still cannot explain.
I don’t know how much weight to assign to each.
But I know this:
Gratitude should not require us to solve that philosophical puzzle.
If somebody helped you, acknowledge it.
If somebody opened a door, remember them.
If somebody spoke for you when you were not in the room, and you later discover it, tell them what it meant.
Preferably, don’t wait more than ten years to find the words.
Join the conversation
Is there somebody who changed the direction of your life but may still not know how important their intervention was?
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