Mentoring in science communications : what my mentees, interns and students teach me
When I received the STEMPRA Mentoring Prize last month, I felt both honoured and humbled. Awards are gratifying, of course, but this one touched me personally. It recognised the part of my work that is least visible but that feels the most essential: mentoring, teaching, and opening doors for the next generation of communicators.
I have always believed that expertise only matters if it is shared. Knowledge is not a personal asset; it is a collective resource. And in fields like science communication — where the stakes are human, political, and planetary — preparing the next wave of practitioners is not optional. It is a responsibility.
In my current role at Target Malaria, I have had the privilege of mentoring brilliant young professionals whose curiosity and courage continually renew my own. Stephanie Wilkes-Moumtzis, Lorraine Gibson, Zion Raeburn, Birhan Mengistu, Stella Attah, Aminah Alhamdu, Chloe Cole and Lord Cobbinah have each brought their own voice, discipline, and lived experience into Target Malaria’s communications projects. They have challenged me, taught me and inspired me, because mentoring is never a one‑way transmission, it is a conversation.
My teaching roles — as Senior Lecturer at EFAP International School of Communication and at the American University of Paris — deepen that sense of purpose. Every semester, I meet students who are navigating a world more complex, more fragile, and more interconnected than the one I entered. They arrive with sharp questions, such as on the impact of AI on communications roles; bold ideas; and a hunger to make meaning. I see in them the future of our profession: more diverse, more global, more ethically grounded.
But mentoring is not only about pedagogy. It is also about access. Talent is universal; opportunity is not. This is why my team at Target Malaria and I decided to partner with the 10,000 Black Interns programme in the UK to commit to hosting one or two interns every summer to provide mentorship on science communications at Imperial College London, the second best university in the world. Minority students — in the UK, in France, and across Europe — remain disproportionately excluded from internships, early‑career roles, and professional networks. They are the first victims of unemployment, and the last to be offered a chance.
Opening doors for them is not charity. It is justice. It is also a smart strategy: our field cannot thrive if it continues to draw from a narrow slice of society and they are an amazing talent pool for recruiters. We need communicators who understand different cultures, different communities, different realities. In the case of Target Malaria, we need communicators who have a lived experience of African countries and of malaria and who understand at a personal level the challenges of getting access to health services.
Mentoring, for me, is not a side activity. It is the heart of my work. It is how I honour those who mentored me, and how I contribute to a profession I care deeply about. If I have any legacy, I hope it will be measured not in projects delivered or campaigns launched, but in the people I helped lift as they began their journey.
