I was a gallerina in New York in the 1990s, and it was an extraordinary time to be young and ambitious in the city. I was also beginning to find my way in the art world. Thirty years later, I recently experienced a full-circle moment at the National Academy of Design’s induction ceremony, where several of my friends were being honored.

Robert Storr was there, and I turned to a friend and said, “He changed my life.” In the 1990s, I had gone to meet with Rob when he was curator of painting and sculpture at the Museum of Modern Art. He told me he would hire me, and then gave me advice that changed the direction of my career. If I really wanted to work in museums, I should get my master’s degree first. He explained that as a woman, every opportunity to use my qualifications against me would be taken, and that I needed to go out into the world, establish myself, and prove what I could do before returning to MoMA.

At the ceremony, I had the opportunity to thank him. I told him that I had followed his advice, earned my master’s degree, and gone on to become the director of two art museums. I wanted him to know how consequential that conversation had been and how grateful I was that he had taken the time to tell me something I needed to hear.

There is a lot of nostalgia for New York in the 1990s, and I share some of it. It was an exciting place to begin a life in the arts. Seeing Rob again reminded me how much of that time was shaped by people who were generous with their experience and willing to help someone just starting out. I wonder how often we have the opportunity to tell someone that their advice changed our lives, and whether we take it.