Finding Cantala: My voice in a new city

In the coming months, we’ll be sharing personal stories from singers about how they found their way to Cantala. Cantala singers come from many walks of life, but together we form a welcoming, creative, and connected community. These stories reflect the diverse paths that brought us here—and the shared passion that keeps us singing.

Here is the first of three in this blog series.

Finding My Voice in a New City: How Cantala Became Home

Moving to Toronto was a leap into the unknown. I was 24, fresh out of school, starting my first “real” job, and knew absolutely no one. I had lived in smaller cities my whole life—places where you eventually recognize every face in the grocery store. Toronto was the opposite: massive, fast, diverse, and, at first, deeply isolating.

As a non-binary person, navigating new spaces always comes with a unique kind of calculation: Will I be safe here? Will I be seen for who I am? Will I have to explain myself again and again? These questions echoed in my mind every day that first month. I was doing okay at work—my manager was supportive, and I was learning the ropes—but outside of office hours, I felt like a ghost in the city.

I knew I needed connection, something outside of work, somewhere I could be fully me. Music had always been a comfort, even though I hadn’t sung in a choir since high school. I missed the feeling of being part of a group where many voices came together to create something bigger than themselves. So, one evening, curled up in my tiny apartment scrolling through local choir listings, I found Cantala.

Something about it stood out. The description wasn’t just about repertoire or performance—it talked about community, inclusivity, and shared experience. They welcomed singers of all genders, backgrounds, and levels of musical training. There was a line about “creating a space where people can be both vulnerable and strong,” and I felt something shift in my chest. I signed up for an audition the next day.

Walking into that first rehearsal, I was nervous. What if I didn’t fit in? What if I wasn’t good enough? But those fears dissolved almost instantly. The room was full of laughter, warm greetings, and music stands being shuffled into place.

Cantala became more than just a choir—it became a lifeline. I started looking forward to rehearsals not just for the music, but for the people. Slowly, I started to feel like I belonged in this city. We sang everything from contemporary choral pieces to traditional folk songs, and in those harmonies, I found connection. I wasn’t just blending my voice into a group—I was being heard.

Now, a few years in, I walk into rehearsal and am greeted with hugs and inside jokes. My voice has grown stronger, and so has my confidence. Toronto doesn’t feel so lonely anymore. It’s still big and overwhelming at times, but I’ve carved out a space where I’m not just surviving—I’m singing.

If you’re new to the city, feeling untethered, or just looking for a place to be yourself, I can’t recommend Cantala enough. Sometimes, all it takes is one “yes” to find your people.