When Feedback Hurts: A Father’s Reflection on Communication and Growth

Dear Son,

Yesterday was parent-teacher meeting day at your school. Once again, thank you for giving us a reason to feel proud. Listening to the wonderful feedback from your teachers — full of kind words, meaningful stories, and thoughtful observations — was truly heartwarming. We are so grateful for all of it.

However, there was one moment that struck me deeply and left an unexpected ache in my heart. Your science teacher mentioned that you had told him, with tears welling in your eyes, that I didn’t allow you to bring your Raspberry Pi 5 to school for your science project. He explained how he’s been trying to help you find a workaround ever since. Hearing this broke me — not because of what you said, but because I realized I may have failed to see the situation through your eyes.

Let me share my perspective. When I first heard you’d be working on a team project, my immediate concern was about the balance of responsibility. At your age, contributions among team members can be uneven, and I worried you might end up doing more than your fair share — or worse, carry the burden alone. My intention was to protect you from frustration or disappointment, not to limit your potential.

But after speaking with your teacher, I understood there was a deeper misunderstanding. What I saw as guidance came across to you as restriction. What I meant as protection felt, to you, like a lack of trust.

This experience has given me two valuable lessons — lessons I believe apply not only to parenting, but also to leadership, teamwork, and communication at every level:

First, I need to give you more room to explore, to fail, to lead, and to grow. Teamwork is one of life’s most powerful teachers. It’s not just about achieving a goal — it’s about learning how to collaborate, how to manage roles and responsibilities, and how to navigate the beautiful messiness of human dynamics. These are skills that you, like all of us, must learn through real experience.

Second, feedback is not just about what we say — it’s about how we say it. I now realize that the way I expressed my concerns lacked empathy and clarity. Next time, I’ll do better: I’ll explain the ‘why’ behind my thoughts, give you the full picture, and make sure we’re truly aligned in understanding.

Thank you for being our bright, curious, and amazing son. You remind me every day that we are all students in this journey — learning from each other, growing together, and always better when we trust and support one another.

With love,
Dad
Volkan

For more letters like this:

Volkan Yorulmaz: Behind the "Fantastic Job": Progress Bars and Punching Bags

Volkan Yorulmaz: Driving Growth: Individual Development Plan and AI Integration

Driving Growth: Individual Development Plan and AI Integration

In today's rapidly evolving business landscape, growth and individual development are more important than ever. As Frederic Patitucci, Chief People & Culture Officer at Philip Morris International (PMI), highlights in his article "Unlocking Innovation Through People: PMI's Growth-Oriented Culture," the growth of our people is directly linked to the growth of our business Collaboration and innovation in company culture is crucial for business growth. This sentiment is echoed by Jacek Olczak, Chief Executive Officer at PMI, who emphasizes the importance of honest feedback and continuous learning in driving meaningful progress.

At PMI, the cultural framework known as PMI DNA unites the company around shared values, behaviors, and a universal sense of togetherness and belonging. This framework fosters an environment where curiosity, agility, and collaboration are embedded in everything we do, empowering our people to push boundaries and redefine what is possible.

Growth at PMI is about much more than promotions or new roles—it is about evolving with the organization, constantly upskilling, and unlocking potential every day. 

As we look to the future, the integration of artificial intelligence (AI) into our individual development plans (IDPs) offers exciting opportunities to enhance personal growth and organizational success. AI can provide valuable insights, personalized recommendations, and real-time feedback, helping individuals align their goals with business needs and navigate their career journeys with intention and impact.

Empower My Growth: Own My Individual Development Plan

There is a well-known saying, "The future depends on what you do today." These wise words invite us to seize every moment as an opportunity to push our boundaries and take actions that will bring us closer to our desired goals. 

Why Our Individual Development Plan (IDP) Matters

At PMI, our IDP isn't just an exercise. It's our roadmap to discovering and making the most of all the learning and development opportunities available to enable my growth. Think of my IDP as:

• My long-term growth plan: A living document to help me identify my development and learning objectives.

• It starts with me: Self-reflection is key to building your Individual Development Plan.

• A shared journey: My manager is there to co-create with me, offering feedback, support, and guidance.

• My growth is PMI’s growth: Unlocking my skills nurtures creativity and innovation across our business.

Kickstart my IDP with Copilot

Using AI can help optimize and enhance my IDP creation process. Here are some tips:

• Set my baseline: Ask Copilot to summarize my strengths and development areas using sources like 360 feedback and year-end review.

• Dive Deeper: Use Copilot to refine my findings and suggest key areas of focus.

• Make it Actionable: Define how I will achieve my goals with SMART criteria.

• Co-create for impact: Refine and review insights from Copilot with my manager.

Start my Growth Journey Now

Every step I take builds my personal foundation and strengthens our business. Let’s continue embracing this journey together to propel our people and our business to continued success.

Embrace the Future: Growth, Development, and AI

As we navigate the ever-changing business landscape, the importance of growth and development cannot be overstated. We believe that growth is a choice—an intentional journey that requires curiosity, courage, and a commitment to pushing boundaries. By embracing challenges and continuously seeking opportunities to learn and innovate, we can unlock our full potential and drive our business forward.

Artificial intelligence (AI) offers exciting possibilities to enhance our individual development plans (IDPs). With AI, we can gain valuable insights, receive personalized recommendations, and access real-time feedback that helps us align our goals with organizational needs. AI empowers us to make informed decisions, set motivating goals, and track our progress with precision.

As Frederic Patitucci and Jacek Olczak emphasize, growth is about showing up every day, embracing feedback, and continuously striving for improvement. By leveraging AI and the tools available to us, we can create impactful IDPs that not only advance our careers but also contribute to PMI's mission of delivering a smoke-free future.

Let’s seize this opportunity to own our growth journey, harness the power of AI, and shape our future with intention and impact. Together, we can build a workforce that is engaged, adaptable, and ready to meet the demands of an evolving business landscape. Progress starts with people—and it is our energy and ideas that will shape the future of PMI.

Behind the "Fantastic Job": Progress Bars and Punching Bags

Dear Father,

First of all, it's great to have the chance to dedicate some quality time to writing this letter, just one week after the previous one. It's early Sunday morning, and for the second day in a row, I've slept more than seven hours—finally recovering from the fatigue of sleeping only five to six hours each night over the past week.

It’s been a week of “getting used to it.” After the disappointment of last week, I had scheduled meetings from Monday to Thursday, where I had to present various assessments. This required me to simplify tables, check with consultants, update the files, present them to stakeholders, record and archive the sessions, and document the meeting notes. After each session, I felt like a progress bar in my mind moved a little further. Completing all sessions—especially Thursday’s—without any issues was the main objective of the week. Thank God, I managed to do that.

But it wasn’t over. On Thursday afternoon, our finance director rightfully asked for a status update on the first batch by Friday. I had planned to complete many quarter-end, statutory, and ad-hoc tasks by Friday, but I had to reschedule them. I managed that too—and thankfully, I heard the words “fantastic job” as feedback.

Yesterday, I told my aunt about this appreciation, and she asked me what it meant. Clearly, “fantastic job” doesn’t hold the same recognition value in Turkish for someone in their seventies. It reminded me of my days in Romania, when I was a guest auditor—back then, it was the first time I heard “fantastic” as praise.

When I finally stepped away from my laptop on Friday evening, I had nearly ten emails I’d already read but marked as unread to revisit. Still, I had to head to the shopping mall where my son watched “A Minecraft Movie” for the second time since its release. I kept repeating to myself: “Oh my God, thank you, it’s over.”

It was a heavy week, and thankfully I won’t be in presentation mode in my upcoming meetings. That, in itself, is something I’m grateful for. I know next week won’t be light either—statutory closings, treasury activities, and ad-hoc requests will keep me busy. But, as they say, “this is the way.”

Aside from work updates, this week also marked the end of my three-month coaching journey. At the end of December 2024, our function offered me an external coaching program in recognition of my efforts in an initiative. My coach, based in Switzerland, had spent his entire career in multinational companies. One day, he lost his job and began this new path.

Whatever I shared with him about my work and interactions made complete sense to him—he had lived similar experiences. On top of that, his technical knowledge enriched our sessions, making the three months fulfilling.

In our final session last week, he left me with some warnings. When we began, I took a “saboteur assessment,” and my top saboteur was being a Pleaser. Let me share the definition:

“The Pleaser has a strong need to be liked by people and attempts to earn it by helping, pleasing, rescuing, or flattering them. The Pleaser needs frequent reassurance from others about their acceptance and affection and can’t express needs openly and directly. Instead, the Pleaser expresses needs indirectly by making people feel obligated to reciprocate care.”

You can read more or take the test here: https://www.positiveintelligence.com/blog/pleaser-saboteur/

Michael, my coach, ended the session by warning me that working so hard to please others could eventually lead to burnout—waking up one day with no motivation toward work or to-dos. This has stuck with me, and I’m doing my best to find balance. That’s partly why I’m taking the time to write. And surely, I need to make time for my daily walks and workouts when I go to the office.

Let me briefly talk about exercising. Yesterday, a rainy Saturday, I dropped my son off at his special school and then went to the office to use the gym. Normally, I prefer cardio and avoid weights. But after checking my weight and realizing I’ve gained a bit since Ramadan, I started with elliptical walking. After 30 minutes, I noticed the sandbag and boxing gloves. I geared up and started kicking the sandbag, thinking of all the emails I’d been tagged in—not about the people, but the extra tasks and requests I didn’t say no to, trying to please others.

It’s not usually my style, but it was exactly what I needed. When I removed the gloves, my hands were red. I found a disinfectant spray and applied it to the sore areas—it reminded me of the pandemic days…

Now, I hear my son and wife have woken up. That’s my cue to say goodbye—until next time.

Best wishes,
Volkan

PS. This letter is written to my "father," and there is a metaphor here; he knows himself.

From Applause to Silence: My Thursday Journey

Dear Father,

Good morning from a Saturday early morning. What a week it was, heh? My agenda is open, and before starting to write this letter, I thought to tackle a few items on my to-do list, but no way: no energy to focus on business, at least for a while.

This time, it's about a reflection on what I experienced last Thursday. I was waiting (not passively but actively by preparing) for two meetings that I scheduled with various stakeholders. One of the new normals of my life is working in my personal time to complete tasks, and I did the same during Ramadan Bairam. But thanks to you, you were there to support me, and you gave me the Bairam gift by preparing the main deck for one of the meetings after a call to help me understand how to guide my audience. Then I applied the same deck preparation method for the other meeting and requested a double-check from our consultant. Everything was ready, and the show started.

The first meeting started like a show just after presenting the table to the audience and letting them know the assessment. I was sharing my screen and even heard one of my colleagues saying, “we should celebrate this.” It was set for 45 minutes, but we closed the session in 30 minutes, and the team and I received many “thank you” and “well-done” messages. Then we closed the session, I turned my Do Not Disturb mode off, chatted with the team (only positive vibes), and replied to urgent emails until the second meeting started.

There was something unclear to me, but since I double-checked with the consultant, I didn’t want to challenge it until the meeting. And then the audience was ready in the meeting, recording started, and just after showing the table, two most important stakeholders (I call them “important” because they know the issue much better than all) immediately said: “this is wrong” when they saw the simplified table based on our consultant’s detailed assessment. Although I didn’t take it personally, I shared the backup sheet where they could read the inputs. Even this triggered other critics, and they were sure that the assessment missed an important perspective. I was listening to them, and what they said made total sense, but although I sensed it before the meeting, I didn’t challenge it by reaching out to the consultants or maybe cross-checking with my internal stakeholders. I showed respect to the titles and expertise, but still, I should have said, “did you consider this?” While listening to our important stakeholders' feedback, I was trying to take notes while thinking about what I could do just after the call. I couldn’t say any words, and due to my bad connection, my camera was closed, and even one of my colleagues asked, “Volkan, are you there?” I said “yes,” virtually I was in the meeting but thinking about the failure and deciding about my next steps. Before closing the second meeting, another point was highlighted: “what if there was a missing perspective in the subject of the first meeting?” This means revisiting the assessment for all other markets, for which I already sent daily meetings for the following weeks.

We ended the meeting, my wife and son were in the same living room with me, and I let them know that it was a terrible meeting. My wife asked me why I didn’t speak in the meeting. There was not much more to say after receiving the feedback from the key stakeholders when they saw the table, and I can’t be political in these kinds of discussions. I turned off my DND mode and saw that my teammates had already started the team call. I joined, and we talked about the failure. Then we invited one of our important stakeholders to the call to understand the history of the issue with the backup files. Before closing the call, he told us the last positive thing of the day: you are doing a great job by working on many markets with different regulations, and this kind of back-and-forth communication is inevitable.

After the shock, I found the cell phone number of one of our consultants and directly called via WhatsApp. I was trying to be agile, so even email was a slow communication method for me at that time. Anyway, I reached out to him, told him what happened in these two meetings, and what we demanded very urgently.

The business day was still continuing, and other operational activities were waiting for my review and approval. I tried to focus once again, but there was a terrible feeling, and I couldn’t see the exit. Among the unread mails, there was also an email about our weekly employee satisfaction survey, and I opened it and filled the free text area with how I felt. A few days or weeks later, I am sure my Finance Director will read it and reply with a question to detail why I feel that much worse and how the company can support me. I also don’t know the answer when I consider the constraints.

After office hours, I needed to drive from Izmir to Bursa. My car was parked away from the house, and while I was walking to get it, I passed by a park and saw families playing with their children. I thought that I am missing life. They were having fun, and I was having a headache. And life continues, but this 3.5-hour highway drive didn’t pass: I thought about the same things again and again: the meeting started and ended several times in my head during the drive.

I know it is not over yet, and one day in the future, I will think about these hard days as just ordinary memories. That’s another reason I wanted to write it down to remember. I am passing through hard days, and work is just in the center of my life. I even can’t spare time for walking or blogging because replying to another mail, decreasing the number of unread emails, and completing another approval flow makes me a little bit comfortable.

Anyway, life goes on, and I am managing the situation for the time being. In the long run, I hope these days will pass, and I will share success stories with only positive vibes.

Till then, take care…

All the best, 

Volkan

PS. This letter is written to my “father,” and there is a metaphor here; he knows himself.

Here you may read the next letter: Volkan Yorulmaz: Behind the "Fantastic Job": Progress Bars and Punching Bags