We kept to ourselves. Until a knock at my door and a little courage opened my world

This First Person column is written by Sukhwant Parmar who lives in Calgary. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

When I first came to Canada from India in 2006, I worked as a cashier and at other entry-level jobs to make ends meet and survive. When my youngest child was born two years later, I stopped working and stayed home to focus on parenting. But I felt confined. My heart craved a wider connection.

So, it's amazing to me now how one day just a simple knock at my door — and a kernel of courage in my heart — set me on a different path. 

It happened like this.

I had just finished preparing dinner one evening in 2010, when the doorbell rang. I put the plate of rice back onto the off-white counter, stumbled over the shoes my husband left out in the hallway, and opened the door. 

Two people stood there with papers in their hands — a man and a woman, one of whom looked Vietnamese and the other a Filipino.

That stood out. It was nice and somewhat unusual in my neighbourhood those days to see two people from different backgrounds together and at my door, especially people who were not from India like my own family.

I greeted them with a smile. The woman handed me a poster and asked me to join their evening "meet your neighbours" event organized by Ethno-Cultural Council of Calgary where I could meet other residents from my community and share my concerns, if I had any. 

I took that poster and told them, "Thanks for this, I will try to come but can't promise." 

As I went back to our dinner, something inside me longed to go to this event, but I was hesitant to ask my husband. He's often tired when he comes back from work and, at that point, he was reluctant for us to mingle with people. 

He always worried, saying we are in a new country and we don't want to get in trouble. We didn't know the rules and customs, and never felt sure what immigrants and permanent residents were allowed to do or not. 

So I stayed quiet and finished up my kitchen chores, but still couldn't forget. There was something that was pulling me toward this event even though I had never been to a community meeting like this before.

Finally, I asked my husband and he agreed. I felt so happy.

On the day of the meeting, I prepared and served an early dinner and left for the event with some hesitation. Would there be someone from my Indian community there? Would I be comfortable? Would they listen to me and my concerns?

But at the event, the atmosphere was welcoming. People came from such a variety of ethnic backgrounds that I didn't feel like an outsider. I got to share my concern — that dog owners weren't picking up after their pets — and others nodded in agreement. 

The organizer asked if I wanted to do something about this issue and invited me to the next meeting. It felt good that people cared. 

My involvement grew from there.

At the next meeting, I connected with a city social worker and a group of volunteers planning a multicultural community potluck with people from many different countries. Then we formed a residents' group and started meeting monthly to plan more events.

I still remember the first session I hosted myself on responsible pet ownership to which I invited Calgary animal and bylaw officers. 

They brought a well-trained dog and some freebies, and shared the do's and don'ts. I helped a neighbour finally get over her phobia and pet a dog for the first time.

After that, I hosted multiple events and collaborated with lots of different organizations. All that volunteering eventually led to a job. I was offered a position at the Ethno-Cultural Council of Calgary (now Action Dignity) with the flexible hours I needed to take care of my kids, and got to empower other residents to get involved in their communities.

It's now been more than 10 years since that first knock on the door. When I look back, I think how different things would have been if those two people had never come by. 

I feel like a totally different person now. I gained so much confidence, training and knowledge and connected with so many people and groups who help the community. It feels rewarding to look back at all the things I've done.

I have that connection I needed. I feel like I belong.

Telling your story

CBC Calgary is running a series of in-person writing workshops across the city to support community members telling their own stories.

Read more from the workshop hosted by the Genesis Centre:

To find out more about our writing workshops or to propose a community organization to help host, email CBC producer Elise Stolte or visit cbc.ca/albertastories.