On keeping the door open

I’ve gained a lot from opening my doors to people who wanted a bit of help, so I found myself disagreeing with Dan Mall’s post about portfolio reviews this weekend.

Dan argues that asking someone to do something is a pitch, and that you should explain what’s in it for them. If you’re asking for a favour with nothing in return, he wants that made explicit as a request for charity. He also offers some useful advice about asking specific questions and finding someone whose experience is relevant, and invites the person who asked to try again.

I understand wanting to know what someone needs help with. I find the expectation that they should explain the benefit to me quite a strange place to start though, because some of the value I’ve had from these conversations only became clear by having them.

When I wrote about switching careers back in 2022, I’d been mentoring on ADPList for a few months. I was learning a lot about my teaching style and what I could offer people beyond the usual portfolio review or interview advice. People were asking about my move from account management into design, and that gave me a chance to think about which parts of my own experience might help someone else.

That was valuable to me. I’d have struggled to put it into a pitch before those conversations happened, and I don’t think the person asking should have had to figure it out on my behalf. Opening the door gave me room to discover it.

There’s also something slightly backwards about expecting someone who needs help to already know exactly how to ask for it. A broad question can be difficult to answer, of course, but working out where they’re stuck might be part of the help they need. If I have the time, asking what they’re hoping to do next seems like a fairly ordinary way to start. We can get to a more useful question together.

And when I don’t have the time, I can say that. "Sorry, I can’t take a look at the moment" is a perfectly reasonable answer. If I have room for one specific question, I can offer that instead. Being approachable still leaves me able to decide how much I can take on.

The public part matters too. Responding to someone’s request in front of an audience can make a small, awkward interaction much bigger than it needs to be. I’d want to think about how that feels for the person who asked, and for someone else reading along who’s been trying to find the confidence to reach out. We can turn things down respectfully without making it pitchforks at dawn.

I’d like people to feel comfortable asking me for help, even if I can’t always give it. I’ve learnt enough from opening my doors that I want to keep doing it.