Though I've moved onto a big city job, I'll never forget my sweet, small-town colleagues

This is a First Person column by Nabeeha Naqvi who lives in the Greater Toronto Area. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

Our friendship started with cupcakes. It wasn't a special occasion, but we had gotten cupcakes from a fancy bakery in downtown Kingston. 

We were a small enough group of lab workers to know that everyone should get two cupcakes. Somehow I only got one because a co-worker ate my share. I pretended to complain and we all laughed it off while agreeing it had been a sneaky thing to do.

A few weeks later, this same colleague stayed half the night with me in the hospital emergency department. 

One moment I was crossing the road thinking of what to make for dinner, and then the next moment, I heard a car squeal and found myself flat on the road. My head was bleeding after being hit by a car, and I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance. I lived alone in the city without any close family,so I reached out to the only people I knew: my co-workers. The cupcake thief showed up within 30 minutes of sending my text message. There was no chair available for him, so he stood by my side till I was discharged. 

Remembering my fuss about the second cupcake, my other co-workers also showed up later at my home with a half-dozen to aid in my recovery. I felt so touched by their kindness and care. 

It's been eight years since then. Where I work now in Toronto, nobody can keep tabs on who's eaten how many cupcakes. Like most places, we order them for occasions and grab a second helping if there's any left.   

The empty cupcake trays at the end of a shift are a bittersweet reminder of why I loved working in a small city workplace. 

Small size, big heart

In 2011, when I completed my diploma program in lab medicine, there was a dearth of jobs in the Greater Toronto Area so I moved to Kingston, Ont., about 265 kilometres northeast of Toronto, for work. I spent the next two years living and working in the community of fewer than 125,000 people — a fraction of the millions in the GTA. 

It was important that everyone at my lab knew how to do everything, which meant we weren't endlessly doing one set of tasks and got a chance to develop a diverse skill set. When someone was sick or on leave, we worked as a tight team to make sure everything ran smoothly.

My team leads were a door-knock away for questions, allowing for on-the-spot learning and troubleshooting.

As a result, I learned more in the two years I was at the Kingston Health Sciences Centre than I have in my seven years working in Toronto. 

I also developed relationships with people who have continued to remain close. Most of us were not from Kingston, so we banded together to become an ad-hoc work family. We went out for dinners (Windmills has the best pizza!), saw plays (The Importance of Being Earnest was my favourite), and visited historical sites (the canyons at Fort Henry are quite impressive). Those of us who had families living in the Toronto area would carpool there and back on weekends.

In March 2015, I became engaged and I started looking for work in Toronto where my fiance lived. The job prospects were still dismal but I chanced upon an opening and — thanks to the experience I'd gained in Kingston — I was offered a position at the first interview.

Culture shock

I was excited for this new chapter. Things were going well at my new workplace until I asked to repeat a test because I was concerned that I had made a mistake. A co-worker, while going over the test with me, advised me to not let people find out because word would get around that I was incompetent. 

Another time, when chatting about hobbies with a colleague, I was warned about talking too long.It was bewildering because all I had wanted to do was built a rapport with my new team. 

The car accident left me with lasting neck pain and anxiety, which worsened under the lack of support at my job. I remembered how my manager in Kingston dealt with one of my errors, without criticism but with kindness and acknowledgement of high work demands.

I started seeing a therapist for work-related anxiety as my husband urged me to consider finding a different position. 

Eventually I did. 

I have since carved out a niche in my current team in Toronto. In a nod to my Kingston days, I prefer to work in small groups where I get to engage with others.

I didn't realize it at the time but I am lucky to have started out my career in a small town. We still regularly message each other on our WhatsApp group, and I feel close to them in spite the passage of time.

I often think back to my last day at the lab in Kingston when my manager brought in a dozen roses — as was her custom when any employee leaves. That memory sums up my love of a workplace where things started with cupcakes and ended with flowers. 

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