Tag Archives: writing

Negative Feedback

19 Mar

By: Kyanna Kitt

We’ve all worked our asses off only to have the fruit of our labor thrown carelessly into the wind as if it didn’t mean a thing- we all unfortunately have been exposed to ‘harsh reality’ by way of negative feedback, but how exactly should we deal with it?

Mathematics has never been my strong point so going into my college years I knew that it would end up being another hurdle I’d have to find a way to hoist my stumpy (I am not kidding) little legs across. I sucked it up- fighting back the tears of my high school horror story. The bright colorful paper dressing the walls, big bubbly letters spelling out my greatest fear- the smell of freshly cut construction paper, wooden pencils and textbooks taking full ownership of the very air I inhaled violating my safety bubble and self-esteem. My teacher a tiny little southern woman smiling what seemed like a warm smile anticipating her torcher- dimple faced and all. She was standing menacingly behind thick trifocal glasses with a short gray buzz cut holding a stack of classwork packets. This would end up being war. Every word that came out of her mouth was foreign, I would scribble scratch and calculate for hours on end and no matter how much I tried I’d always get the wrong answer despite her ‘help’ my mind just wouldn’t click.

Ms.Kitt are you even trying to get the right answer? …. What do we know about blah blah blah…use the yada-yada property- My math teachers were never really understanding of my case and because of this fact I began to feel bad about myself. This poured over into other parts of my life. I began doing badly in other subjects, withdrawing from group activities and later skipping class all together. It seemed as if my situation was helpless. I didn’t know how to deal with her negative feedback; I didn’t know how to defend myself and more importantly I didn’t know how to be confident in myself. I would never believe someone if they told me about the person I’d be today. Here I am in my freshman year of college, the fifth term to be exact with a 100% A+ score in mathematics and a pretty decent 3.5 GPA. What could have happened between high school (2004-2008) and college (2013-present)? Not a heck of a lot of studying, I’ll tell you that.

You see, what happened was a change in character. As I grew older I grew more confident and self assured. I no longer search for validation in my teachers or felt bad for asking questions and not understanding. College helped me through that barricade that was stopping me from being the bright minded girl that I am. One of the first things I learned when I decided to continue my education is that nobody is smarter than anyone else. That includes your professors, you’re mentors, your idols- There is nobody out there that is better than you and your situation nor are you better than anyone else. Sound like a cliché crock of shit but guys swallow it down. Live it. Be that phrase. You are only as big as the person that you are and portray yourself to be. If you want to be strong be it. If you want to sing do it. If you want to be great be you and don’t let anyone deter you from achieving your goals.

I hope that you took something from this simple post and all that I ask it that somewhere this speaks to someone and that someone is reading this who is perhaps not in the best place emotionally and this sheds light onto them and gives them the strength to make positive changes towards a happy healthy life. Have you ever received negative feedback that impacted you in a big way? Leave your stories below.

Similarity

28 Aug

Similarity

 

Belief & truth.

Not always the same.

Offender” & criminals.

Always to blame?

The hand that feeds you-

Does not essentially nurture.

Truth in life?

None, or frankly obscure.

Hope & faith?

Similar at best.

Certainty in reason?

Give it a rest.

 

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

I Remember: Weekly Writing Challenge

27 Aug

I Remember: Weekly Writing Challenge

My earliest memory was of me my brothers Kevin and Fred, and my sister Akieta riding into Willoughby Spit in the old caravan. The van was so packed you could barely see through the dust windows. We were moving from Tennessee so it had been a long ride… Or so I think… Hmm… Now that I think of it, I don’t know where the hell we were coming from. I’m not even sure who all was in the van- Well I know daddy was driving and mom was in the passenger side seat. There were stacks of brown card board boxes, this I remember clearly. I also remember having pulled up and going into the house. There were things already inside. I did not like that there were a lot of doors… I didn’t like the house itself. The moment I had seen it I had felt that it was going to be bad. I remember there was a huge tarantula spider in the kitchen which scared me…

Sigh. Those crazy summer days in the 90’s.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

My Yearning

26 Aug

My Yearning

I could lie and say I never want to see you again.

I could easily say I would, if given a chance.

For all those times you’ve objectively hurt me-

I a fool to have even fought what my mind and body felt.

I wanted you, from the start, and you did too.

I remember the hotness of my face when you first admitted it.

I slaying temptation with every cell of my body…

Do you honestly think I never wanted to conquer you?

Do you truly believe I would have never made a move?

You were foreign to me in so many ways & this enticed me…

I wanted to taste your lips the moment I saw them-

I wanted to feel myself wrapped around you.

I wanted every ounce of heart-stopping intimacy with you-

I could see you- You knew the whole time…

You were so compelled that you didn’t want to take me-

This killed me inside. My body constantly fighting for what was never mind to begin with-

If you please could give me but an answer as to why…

Copyright Kyanna Kitt

Prompt 8: Cliché

20 Aug

Prompt 8: Cliché

The apple never falls far from the tree,” says the poor woman of her child.

Even in her youth

filling her mind with

the same rubbish most hear

others speak upon their worst enemy.

Even taking her journals

and them away

Taking the books she read

as if the meant nothing

and banning them from her-

It isn’t worth it- you’ll be just like me,”

she said fold a hot basket of clothes-

What children aren’t told is they

don’t have to be like anyone.

Not even mommy and daddy.

Read your books-

Write your journals,

One day you’ll be a great

writer and will have all the things that were

decided for me not to have,”

she should say.

I remember a book we made

back in grade school on the old colored puzzle carpet-

The one I had vomited on so many times before.

Anyways, I digress. I remember the letters and reading the stories I read-

I’ve had but one still dream and it remains.

Despite what they say,

I am my mothers child.

But I am not my mother.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

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