Mentoring outside the classroom: my tribute to Rod Cate

By Brian Ogolsky, Ph.D.
Brian Ogolsky and mentor, Rod Cate

He is affectionately known to his inner circle as "Cate the Great." If you have the opportunity to really get to know him he may have referred to himself as "Rod the God," or even better, "Rod the Bod," and you definitely experienced his raw Texan sense of humor. What Rod Cate lacks in modesty, however, he makes up for in mentoring. I joke, of course, because Rod is quite humble in his academic life, considering the immense contributions he has made to the field of relationship research during his long and productive career. Other than the amusing nicknames for himself, you will never hear Rod talking about a recent accomplishment, or shamelessly self-promoting his work. Instead, he spends his time shaping the future of the field by training his graduate students to be the best they can be. When it comes to mentoring, Cate is Great.

My relationship with Rod began when I entered graduate school at the University of Arizona. I was assigned to Rod as a teaching assistant for his course on relationships. At the ripe age of 21, I was pretty convinced that I already knew how to do this graduate school thing. I did what I was told and did it quickly. I always thought that a fast turnaround time would impress those I worked for. It was not until the first exam, that I learned a lesson that I would never forget. As the teaching assistant, I was responsible for the exams in the course. I wrote the exams, proofread them, and made sure that they met the criteria that Rod specified-or so I thought. As the first exam ensued, we had a number of students raise their hands. As it turned out, I made a rather sizeable error when creating the exam. The students began pointing out that there were several redundant questions on the exam. In my quest to impress Rod with my quick turnaround time, I had sacrificed the integrity of his exam with my carelessness.

I wish I could say that this was the last mistake that I made in this class, but the story did not end there. In addition to the primary exam, the students had the opportunity to take a brief extra credit exam if they completed a supplementary reading assignment. Not surprisingly, only two students chose to take this exam and, coincidentally, they both needed special testing accommodations, which required that I send the exam to the testing center. After Rod proofread this exam, he sent it back to me to send to the testing center. What I didn't realize at the time was that I sent the "key" to the exam. When we discovered the mistake, it was too late. The students already took the exam, and I had once again put Rod in a difficult situation. It was at this point that I was certain that Rod would not want to work with me again. I awaited my annual review letter with much apprehension until the day it landed in my mailbox. I read through the letter and was surprised by the very positive review that I received from him.  Instead of writing a negative review and pointing out my mistakes, Rod offered the following words that I would never forget, "Remember, accuracy is as important as efficiency."

Thankfully, my relationship with Rod did not end that semester. Instead, he became one of the most influential people in my life-one that would shape my career forever. As I entered my second year of graduate school, I began to question my fit in the field of family studies. I grappled with my career choice much as the average college student does. Unfortunately for me, I had my moment of crisis as a graduate student rather than as an undergraduate. I was sure that this would disappoint Rod because he had spent a great deal of time training me in my early years in the program. Despite my nerves, I informed Rod that being "an academic" was not my calling, and that I needed to pursue a career as a marriage and family therapist. Without thinking twice, Rod offered me his total support and agreed to write letters on my behalf. At the end of the year, I went to several interviews and learned a lot about myself and my needs. I realized that the mentoring I was receiving from Rod was what I needed. I was now sure that I wanted to be an academic and that I would be remaining in family studies. After I made this decision, I came back to inform Rod of my decision and he sat back with a reserved grin on his face as if to say, "I knew it all along." He later told me that he thought it was a shame that I was going to leave academia because of the potential that he saw in me. After hearing his comments, I realized that on the day I first told Rod of my decision to leave, he mentored me not with what he said, but with what he did not say. If he had tried to convince me not to leave at that time, I would never have discovered my true feelings. Instead, he put his own interests aside in favor of mine. This selflessness is the true mark of a great mentor.

The words that Rod wrote in my letter early in my career and his selfless support over time have been with me ever since. As a new assistant professor, I now find myself on the other end of the mentoring relationship. I am faced with the trials and tribulations that are typical of the early years on the job. I teach three classes a semester and will have as many as 25 advisees that I must guide. Of course, this load is in addition to my research requirements. As a product of a research intensive university, it would be easy to view the students as a hindrance to my personal goals as a scholar. But instead, I revisit the wise words of Cate the Great: Accuracy is as important as efficiency. To apply these words as an academic is to realize that it is not enough to get the teaching or advising job done quickly so that more time can be spent on personal development. Instead, Rod's words motivate me toward quality in all facets of the academic job. To teach and advise as efficiently as possible requires a tremendous amount of accuracy, which translates into focused time and attention. At times, it even requires that you simply put yourself aside and listen. Without those few wise words, I would not be the same academic that I am today.

To this day my relationship with Rod continues to grow deeper and deeper. I still learn from Rod in so many ways, many of which are not traditional. I look back to the days we played racquetball together after work. Through these games I learned how to lose gracefully when beaten by a man nearly 40 years my senior. It seemed that Rod was able to apply his words even when on the racquetball court. In this case his accuracy was clearly more effective than my efficiency. My point in bringing up the racquetball games (apart from the amusing imagery) is to illustrate what I believe can be the most important and rewarding part of the mentoring relationship, friendship. Rod and I have remained close friends since I graduated and he retired from the University of Arizona. He continues to offer me guidance and support as I navigate the early years of academia, and I provide him guidance and support about how to survive the rain in Washington State. Despite being retired, Rod still makes a tremendous impact on the field. He continues to write and was, until recently, an associate editor of the journal, Personal Relationships. With his contributions to the field, he also contributes to my life and career. We have worked together on two projects since his retirement. As an experienced scholar, he has many opportunities to influence the field with his writing, and I feel blessed to have him pass along some of these opportunities to me. Beyond his work, it is clear to me that Rod Cate is and will always be known not simply for his scholarship, but for the people with whom he trained, mentored, and shared himself. Thank you, Rod.