Medics who mentor

The school bell rings, shaking the corridor, and I'm 13 again. The excitement at the thought of going home is accompanied by a dread at the thought of maths next. An anticipatory tummy rumble cries for lunch break. But I'm not 13, and fortunately I'll never have maths again. I'm 21 and about to meet a 14 year old girl who wants to find out more about doing medicine.

No I'm not a sadist; I'm a mentor for teenagers who want a career in health care. It's part of a scheme to widen participation. The teenagers, affectionately called mentees, have to fulfil a set of criteria concerned with their family's academic background to be placed with a mentor.

Soon after being introduced to my mentee, we filled out an ice breaker questionnaire so that I could find out what her ambitions were and why she wanted a mentor. Teenagers are always perceived as moody and awkward or loud and cocky so I was understandably nervous about it all. But there was nothing to worry about-she was so chatty that we ran out of time. We talked about her family, my course, her school, my university and it wasn't awkward at all.

One thing that I learnt from this is how quickly we forget what it's like to be at school. It's so easy to label people as children or adults, but teenagers, who are completely in the middle, are so unique that you cannot possibly place them as either. My mentee will be talking intelligently about the financial aspects of university one minute, and then, before I know it, we're talking about which cartoons she watches.

She takes me back to my school days; the popular kids, the fears about exams, the teachers that everyone loves, the nicknames for the teachers whom everyone hates. She reminds me of the teenage views on life-simple but intelligent and untainted by politics, loyalties, and bias.

For her, the benefits are vast-she gets to ask somebody about what to expect in the future and what she can do at school to further her chances; after all, if you don't know anyone at university, how on earth are you to know what to expect?

My mentee will do well in life on her own merit and hard work; I do not think my presence will influence this greatly. But there is a great, underestimated worth in the importance and value of simply having someone to talk to-someone who is there as a guide and for that one hour, everything is about you.

Think back to when you were applying to medical school: who was there for you? Maybe you could be that person to the next generation of medics. Think how proud you'll be when you see them in the union dressed in pyjamas, and you can say, "I helped bring them here."

To get involved ask your university's "widening participation" department; look out for posters at your medical school; or look on the web at, for example, www.aimhigher.ac.uk and www.thebrightsidetrust.org .

Alice Cook, fourth year medical student, University of Manchester
Email: alice.s.cook@stud.man.ac.uk

Competing interests: None declared.

studentBMJ 2007;15:1-44 January ISSN 0966-6494