All poetry courtesy of Q.Kirk

"I'm standing on stage with my eyes closed, ears opened to the crowd.
They're anticipating my words spoken. So, I push play on my heart, record on my paper.
And I recite, this poem…"

As a child, my mind was always in motion.

I had a vivid imagination, always creating new stories and trying to find patterns in the most unexpected places: shapes of leaves, inside of fruits, the arrangement of ceiling tiles.

My mother taught me how to read and write before I stepped into a classroom. But she couldn't understand why I kept mixing up letters, like writing “P” instead of “B.”

I remember being told that I was hyperactive. I thought it meant something physical, that I needed to move all the time. But for me, it was that my mind wouldn't sit still. Eventually, I was diagnosed with attention deficit disorder (ADD) and dyslexia.

My mother never gave up on me. Her patience and persistence kept me from falling behind in school, and her belief in me gave me the courage to keep writing.

Still, even with her support, my self-doubt lingered.

Because of my diagnosis, I often doubted my intelligence and felt trapped in a cycle of shame and silence – carrying the weight of constantly having to prove that I was smart enough and capable enough.

That took a quiet but lasting toll on my mental health into adulthood.

Gifts of my mind

"To see the world, in straight lines and curves.Would make it so much easier to draw you closer to me.Connecting us to a picture, of a possible future, together."

One of the greatest gifts I have is the way my brain works.
It’s always moving, always analyzing. It’s like my mind is in overdrive most of the time – interpreting the world, making connections, digging for deeper meaning.

This is where my power lives.
Poetry has always been a healing tool for me. As a spoken word artist with dyslexia, I see language. Each word, no matter how abstract, becomes a picture, a scene, a sound or a feeling that I share with my audience.My love for poetry began as a child growing up in Tobago, where performance art is woven into our education.

I was particularly drawn to dub-poetry, a form of performance poetry that combines rhythmic spoken words and reggae-inspired music, with socially and politically conscious lyrics.In my poetry, l explore themes of self-reflection, resilience, and empowerment. These themes mirror my work at the Bank as the Colleague Engagement Delivery Manager for Platforms & Technology. I develop business strategies to help address challenges faced by underserved communities and help foster spaces for understanding and growth.

Poetry gives me a voice that's raw, creative, and unfiltered. When I’m craving clarity or carrying big emotions mentally, it gives me a reflective and safe space to process what I’m feeling.But even as I found freedom in my words, I was still carrying parts of myself quietly in the workplace.

Disclosure and the power of being seen

"Isolation is my learned protection from this pain.
Then, the thought of loneliness became my greatest fear…
My pain is subtle, it's constant. And it's begging for air."

For a while, I managed well on my own at work. I had learned and developed personal strategies over the years to navigate the unique challenges and strengths that came with having a neurodiverse mind.

My mind doesn't just look at things at face value. It’s constantly interpreting and drawing conclusions and searching for deeper meaning. The hyperawareness has given me strong intuition, multidimensional thinking, and a vivid imagination. Those strengths have served me well.

But as my career progressed and expectations grew, relying on my own strategies was not enough. My work became more complex. I struggled to process and organize written information quickly and follow through on tasks without feeling distracted or overwhelmed.

It became clear that I couldn’t keep pushing through on my own. I realized I needed accommodations.

Still, I spent time hiding what I was going through because I was afraid. I was afraid of the stigma that often came with disclosing I had ADD and dyslexia and was worried I’d no longer be seen as capable and dependable.

I masked and brushed off my struggles. I smiled. And I tried to navigate the overwhelm alone.

But masking takes a toll. Managing in silence chipped away at my mental health, piece by piece. It created a loop of self-doubt, and my anxiety deepened.

For a while, I carried that weight alone. But things started to shift when I had a trusted manager at TD that I felt comfortable disclosing to. And when disclosure feels safe, it becomes transformative.

My manager introduced me to accessibility tools at the Bank, such as screen readers, dictation tools, and the TD Accessibility Adapter, a tool for use with the Chrome browser, which adjusts contrast on all web pages and apps to make words easier for me to read. My screen reader converts text into audio, helping me process information when reading feels overwhelming, while the dictation software transcribes my speech into text, allowing me to express ideas more quickly and confidently.

These tools have made a huge difference for me, allowing me to stay productive and do my best work without burning out. But more than the tools, what mattered most was feeling supported by TD.

The support gave me the confidence to stop hiding the parts of myself I used to push through in silence. I’m grateful to work in a place that genuinely cares about colleague mental health and well-being. It’s the kind of environment that’s helped me grow and thrive.

This kind of growth is never easy. It can be extremely isolating. It’s also why, as a leader and a mentor, I felt a pull to create that same space for others.

I found community through the Bank's internal networks where I connected with like-minded colleagues and felt a sense of belonging. Today, I continue to mentor and play an active role in many networks, where I help create positive experiences for colleague development and community connections.

Giving back in this way reminds me that I’m not alone. We all thrive when we lift each other up.

Showing up with purpose

"It's my job to remind you, to transform your mind. To remove all insecurities that you are the only one going through these tests, trials, and tribulations.

These ups and downs, and where do I go in life?
It's my vocation to say, that we are all Born Free. But we shackle ourselves to this world, with the knowledge we gain, and the time that pass.

It's my duty to say, that releasing the bonds that bind you, is necessary for growth and a necessity to your freedom."

Disclosure is uncomfortable, and it’s never a requirement. For me, choosing to share my story is my way of showing up – for myself and for others. In my role today, I promote inclusion across the Bank, helping turn support and well-being into everyday action rather than just an idea. Beyond work, I saw my art evolve when I gave myself permission to experiment and be vulnerable in my poems and in my poetry performances.

Now, I use what I’ve learned to help empower others – raising awareness of mental health and lived experiences that often go unspoken, to help build spaces where people feel inspired, empowered, and heard.