Late last spring, my very dear friend, Chris, a university professor, approached me about consulting on a research project he was thinking about taking on. He wanted me to work as the project manager for a cross-country research initiative for a combined scientific and humanities project, pioneering changes in the agriculture community. Without delving too deeply into our project, my work at the research and development facility, experience in understanding ‘science’, and working with different communities made me an ideal candidate to coordinate the team.

To be frank, I wasn’t sure I was up for the job. Sure, I’d worked doing editing for Chris for a while, and yes, I was pretty confident in that, but resume work leading a project? Coordinating researchers? Managing a schedule, a budget, people? I had not done anything like this in a very long (ten years) time. Could I still do it? This was an important project; I did not want to let Chris or the team down. After a discussion with my husband, I said yes, I would be thrilled to take it on, and so began the journey.

Chris has a knack for picking people. He seems to know people and has an innate knowledge for pulling the right people together. He, our chemist, Yakov, and our entomologist, Hannah, all work at the same university. Julie, the community liaison, and financial officer from our industry partner was the fifth spoke to the wheel of our team.

Once the team was assembled, we wrote our proposal in two weeks, submitted it, and quickly found out we had been awarded preparatory funding. This would allow us to come together, get into the community, and make inroads to write our full proposal.

It is hard to put in writing what made this team so very special. But from our very first Zoom meeting, it was evident, we were going to get along well. There was a natural chemistry. While Chris had worked with Hannah, and Hannah had worked with Yakov, I had worked with Chris, and Chris knew Julia, the rest of us were unknown to one another, but the banter was natural. Perhaps because Chris was the centre point, or we all had our own specialties and with that came confidence, I don’t know, but the flow was organic.

But I still felt very unsure of myself and my position, which was evident in that first Zoom meeting. My introduction was clunky and my meeting agenda, while well thought out and planned, I couldn’t remember my talking points. I ended up turning the meeting over to Chris because I could not think clearly, and my nerves got the best of me. This is a problem that would plague me throughout the project. My lack of confidence when in a larger group setting, especially during online meetings, would leave me flustered and often mixed up. Chris was always there to step in and lead the meeting, making it look natural to take over. Perhaps it was, but it always left me feeling like I’d failed the project.

The core group, however, always seemed to make me feel better about it, without ever having to say anything. No one ever judged the situation and while they all knew what I had done, they didn’t necessarily know the circumstances as to why I was no longer working full time. I didn’t hide the reason, I just didn’t openly explain it. I didn’t have to, even when we met in person. Four spinal fusions, debilitating rheumatoid arthritis, none of it mattered. My mobility issues, chronic pain, some of the accommodations I needed. The team just did what was needed and never made me feel any differently. One could argue that is what adults do, but it isn’t. I’ve experienced this a long time; adults can be cruel too.

When I first met Chris and Yakov at the airport, they grabbed my luggage and off we went. The same when I met Hannah and Chris on the next trip. When I grew tired, a chair would appear so I could rest, but they all would wait with me. I felt understood and supported in a way I never had. We recorded meetings so I could go back over the notes to make sure I didn’t miss anything, and if there were specific details about the science, I was always free to ask for more information.

Yakov could get to the details of the chemistry with ease. He knew more about Canada than any of us, and he loved everything but bacon. Yakov was keenly interested in everyone we met and expressed such heart in all he did. I appreciated how he showed me so much about chemistry and his work without meaning to. Engaging my curiosity and enabling my interest in what is going on around me are two lasting impressions I have from working with him. He reminded me why I loved what I did, that I loved to laugh, and how I could smile until my cheeks hurt.

Julie’s passion was contagious. She loved her community fiercely and was equally protective of it. While she had invited us to her community for this project, she met us with skepticism and concern. Ensuring we were there with the best intentions, slowly she began to accept the rest of us. Trying to teach us a bit about farming and agriculture, she only began to scratch the surface. We hit it off really well and she always knew when I was having an off day and would call me. I appreciated her kindness, her hospitality, and her friendship.

Hannah is a force. Her intelligence is only rivaled by her incredible kindness and warm, loving heart. While she is passionate about her work (and she is a leading expert in her field) she is the most down to earth, easy-going person. But she also has this don’t piss off the bear side to her that I wouldn’t want to meet in a back alley! She keeps her friends close, and she loves big. Quick to share her knowledge, she always did it in a way that made you want to know so much more. She is spectacular, intuitive, and I adore her. She too knows when I am out of sorts, and I will get a message from her. Hannah is the kind of woman you aspire to be and the kind of woman you want your daughter to grow up to be.

We were all so different and from diverse backgrounds but the connections we made were real. While I started the project unsure of myself, and I questioned my abilities, the strength of the team and their unwavering support led me back to a place where I felt I could do the job. When we all sat around the table collaborating and working, we were equal. We didn’t have the same qualifications, but we were all infinitely qualified. I felt I was on equal footing sitting beside three PhD’s and community liaison with twenty plus years experience in the agriculture community. I may have been ‘out of the game’ for the past decade but they made me feel relevant, needed, wanted, and just as important as each and everyone of them.

^{As with all my writing, everyone’s name has been abbreviated or changed to protect their identities.}