If you pay attention to television programming or major cultural events, you will almost always hear or see the word sponsor in their promotions, acknowledgements or closing credits. The sponsor makes it happen. Not a mentor but a person or organization who believes enough to put their name—and their money—behind it.

I had had many mentors in my life. Women and men who counseled me, encouraged me, redirected me. Some were more senior in both years and experience; some were my peers and colleagues; some were people who worked for me. All were important.

But it was the sponsors in my career that made the difference.

In each world I worked in—college administration, Fortune 100 corporations and international law firms—I had a sponsor who shaped my career in ways no mentor could. They seldom gave me advice. Instead, they gave me the opportunity to succeed or fail. I believe they provided me the path to become all I was capable of becoming.

At Rider College, now Rider University, it was Jim McRoberts, the Dean of Students who gave me the first chance. Jim asked me to step up into a newly created role of Assistant Dean of Students, working directly for him. I retained many of my former responsibilities, but the title and visibility were significant.

Jim was easy to work for. He gave me the opportunity to see up close how a calm presence inspires confidence, soothes tempers, and gives one pause to think. Jim did it by smoking a pipe. Preparing the pipe was his version of counting to ten. Each familiar movement slowed the pace of his thoughts until they marched instead of raced. By the time the tobacco glowed, he was ready to share his thoughts or make the decision. I could never figure out an alternative prop but attempting to stay cool when rhetoric or tempers flared was the lesson. I am still not sure how well I learned it.

Then I moved on to the business world and Mobil Oil Corporation, one of the giants of the then Fortune 500 list. Its employee relations function was led by Rex Adams, a sponsor for me, in the truest sense of the word.

Other than when we first met, Rex never called me Maureen. It was always “Mooney.” A Rhodes scholar and one of the smartest people I ever worked with, Rex gave me one piece of advice that I passed on to others in the human resource arena: know the business. Then and only then would you be value-added.

Rex just didn’t guide my career; he made things happen. About three years into my Mobil tenure, he took me to lunch—a major event for someone as junior as I was at the time—and laid out my career trajectory. If I stay in the New York headquarters, it would look one way. If I moved to ‘the field’, we could see what happened next.

My answer was quick and in three months, I was working in ‘the field.’ I had been transferred to New Orleans, Louisiana, working in the Exploration & Producing Division. Two years later, things changed. Russ was in my life, and I wanted to return to New York. Rex heard about my story, and called me to confirm that I fully understood what coming back would mean for my career path. When I said I did, he told me he would see what he could do.

Three months later, I was back working in New York.

Note that Rex never checked in to see how I was doing in those roles. He simply opened the door and trusted me to walk through it.

When Mobil left New York, I left the corporate world for the complexity of law firm life. It was more than a simple transition. The decision-making structure and power dynamics were entirely different. I had to learn a whole new business model.

When I joined Rogers & Wells, the firm’s Chief Executive Officer was Dick Killian, one of the most challenging people I had ever worked for, yet a true sponsor. Though decidedly different from Rex.

Dick didn’t offer me opportunities. He just trusted me to do my job. When partners called him with issues that fell within my responsibilities, Dick didn’t try to solve the problem. He told them to call me. That sent a powerful message throughout the firm: I was in charge of what I was charged to do.

Dick and I often disagreed but the disagreements were behind closed doors. We argued, negotiated and compromised. Sometimes I simply stuck to my guns and wore him down. Once we reached a decision, I knew I could move forward without hesitation. Dick always had my back. I never had to fear that he would throw me under the bus. He let me do my job.

So, these were my sponsors. Very different people with very little in common except for their willingness to let me succeed or fail. To do the work. To trust me with responsibility. To allow me to become.