How One Mentor Transformed Taylor Gantt’s Life

For more than a decade, The Chronicle has highlighted research and stories that illuminate the transformative power of supportive mentoring relationships. Today, we’re honored to share a deeply personal reflection from former Big Brothers Big Sisters mentee Taylor Gantt, who reached out to offer his own account of how one long-term mentoring relationship shaped the trajectory of his life. In the piece below, Taylor reflects on his 10-year match with his Big Brother, David, a relationship that began in childhood and continues into adulthood, and the profound academic, moral, and emotional impact it had on him. His story offers a glimpse of the lasting effects a committed mentor can have.

Written By: Taylor Gantt
Date: November 13, 2025

RE: How mentorship changed my life…

My father killed himself when I was 10 days old.  He was an alcoholic and gambler.  My mother did her best to raise my brother and I. She had substance problems of her own.  When I was age 11, my mother knew she was in over her head and sought help from the Big Brothers and Big Sisters (BBBS) program, hoping a father-like figure would influence me in all of the positive ways she couldn’t. David has been my “Big Brother” through the program since I was age 11. David changed my life forever. Forever.

In a fatherless home, meeting David was like winning the mentorship lottery.  He had gone to and graduated from Emory University and Villanova Law School, had similar interests to my own, was funny, athletic, caring, present, and held high academic and moral standards.  I couldn’t have asked for a better role model.

We would be “matched” (as BBBS refers it) at age 11 and over the next 10 years, David and I would have a father-figure/mentorship relationship that impacted me in ways I’m still recognizing today. At age 45, we are one of the few matches, according to BBBS, that keeps in touch after such a long period of time.

Here are a few examples of how his mentorship impacted and shaped who I am today:

David taught me that grades DO matter.  He taught me that doing well in school would impact my future and that putting in work now would pay dividends for later. He was right. He encouraged me to accept a college baseball scholarship and go out of state for my college education, to see the world, and to distance myself from my mother’s troublesome habits and the destructive culture that was constantly tempting me as a young adult. I went on to have two kids and was a teenage father, got married, graduated with a BA in 4 years, had another kid, and earned my MBA in 2 years… all in that order. As far as I know, teenage parents with master’s degrees are a statistical anomaly. My wife and I each fall in that category. While there are several studies about how teenage parents do academically later in life, many of those academic conclusions mention two commonalities – the grit of the parents and the presence of support systems (parents/mentors/teachers). All of these accomplishments can be attributed in some way to David’s encouragement and support at an early age.

David taught me about having respect for others, especially women and those of differing religious views.  David is Jewish and grew up in Queens. I was being raised in a Christian home in Denver, and going to a Catholic school!

We spent a LOT of time together—the kind of time that reveals somebody’s true identity.  Time like 3 hour long car rides to the mountains to ski and sitting on freezing chairlifts for what seems like days and days on end. Time like standing in line at Eliches, or sitting around a campfire, or waiting for tow trucks, or long Rockies games, or playing tennis, or swimming all afternoon, eating pizza together, or going rollerblading around Washington park. We were together a lot. This was before cell phones, so natural social distractions were aplenty. These are the types of activities where you learn the true and authentic colors of the person. During those times, and over a span of 10 years, David never cracked an inappropriate joke, never made a distasteful comment, never did or said anything short of being an absolute gentleman.  Not once, EVER.  As I reflect back on those times, I realize now that my current shudder with hearing something inappropriate in the form of a joke, harassment, or any type of marginal ethical or moral behavior is rooted in the fact that I didn’t hear those things growing up, so when I do now, they stand out.  Those types of comments were not standard operating procedure, they were not normal, and they were not said for one very simple reason—they were not acceptable, period.  David set that standard for me as an adolescent adult, and he did it well.

David taught me how to respect women by how he treated his wife, Rachel (ironically, my wife’s name is also Rachel).  Holding doors open for women and the elderly, respecting the emotions of your partner, listening, communicating, manners, and respect applied, according to David – ALL of the time, not just when people were watching. What we did when nobody was watching was David’s true test of integrity and high moral fiber. I had some questionable adults in my life prior to meeting David. Within days of meeting him, it was clear that he was the epicenter of my young, developing moral compass.

Among the intricacies of character and how to be an adult, David taught me some practical things too. He taught me how to drive a stick-shift: a lesson in patience and awareness. David is responsible for shaping my musical tastes– everything from Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty to Joni Mitchell and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.  I root for the Colorado Rockies, Cleveland Indians, and Denver Broncos because David taught me what it means to be a fan of a team, through thick and thin. When I got in trouble in school, David held me accountable like few others would. Those lessons in perseverance and resolve were invaluable in my development.  He taught me how to shoot free-throws, how to wear my baseball uniform, how to not make excuses or dodge the truth, how to keep score in bowling with a real pencil and paper, and how to write a good English paper. The list goes on and on. He taught me everything. I have in turn, taught those same lessons to my kids.

As David and I grew older, David found his time as a lawyer unsatisfying.  He yearned for more both personally and professionally, and the prestige and power (let alone money) of practicing law left him unfulfilled.  He gave it up to become a high school English teacher and baseball coach, a move that left many scratching their heads.  This decision was a reflection of David’s character, knowing that happiness comes from within, not from material possessions, fancy titles, or huge paychecks.  I’d like to take some credit here though…I think David found fulfillment in our relationship and realized he had a lot to offer the youth of Denver in the 90’s.  He wanted to make a difference in his community, a community he was expecting to raise a family in for the next 40 years. He was absolutely right. He gradually became more and more involved in coaching my teams and teams of his own.  He went back to school to earn his teaching credentials, student teaching at a troubled public school on Colorado Boulevard and Colfax.  David started working at Highlands Ranch High School as an English teacher and baseball coach shortly after finishing his teacher program.  I don’t remember if it was his first or second year exactly, but I recall David receiving “Teacher of the Year” at Highlands Ranch High School very early and was invited by the students to give the graduation address in the same year.  This may seem trivial, but as far as school “ecosystems” go (of which I have a lot of experience), it is extremely difficult for a new, upcoming teacher to have such an impact so fast. And to be voted by the students to speak at graduation? It just doesn’t happen very often.  This is a testament to how David impacted the local Highlands Ranch and school community in such a positive and authentic way so quickly.  When I run into my old friends from high school who still live in Denver, they constantly ask me how David is doing.  They always tell me to “tell David hi for me.” Not only did his mentorship have an impact on me, but had an impact on my social orbits as well. His relationship ripples traveled far.

During my time in College and David’s time raising his family, we drifted apart for a few years. “Drifting apart” is defined as only seeing each other at the Holidays for coffee, and maybe during the summer for a quick hello. He was raising his young family and we were doing the same. Recently, my wife and I moved back to Denver. As a result, David and I reconnected. Today, our time together varies. We’ll find a hole-in-the-wall Denver restaurant or, will play a round of golf or go to a CU Buffs game together, like we did when I was 13. I regularly dog-sit for him, and our children have even started texting each other, which feels like something out of the multi-verse. As adult men, we’ve come to really depend on each other emotionally, which isn’t common or easy to find. This winter we’re likely to ski together 2-3 times, and one of our best memories was going to the Winter Park Jazz festival with both his family and ours. We’ve gone to the same comedy festival together three years in a row. While it’s fun to see our families connecting, what we’ve noticed is that David and I inevitably end up in the corner, ingrained in an enthusiastic conversation about sports, life, or whatever… and lose track that anybody else is in the room. I love it.