Kunuugama

I was 20 years old when I entered the criminal court system. I was a paralegal trainee but also served as victim/witness assistant – explaining to those who have to appear in court how it works and guide them through it. I worked with Palluq Enuaraq, and we quickly became close working on some difficult cases at a time when big sexual assault matters started to go through the court system.

In my training one of the expectations was that I bow to the judge when I entered the court. I was never comfortable with it but did it. Later, as my career took me to young offenders, policy work then law school I started to understand the source of my discomfort.

By law school I refused to bow in court, without any announcement or explanation to anyone. Not because I disrespected the judges, I recognized they are there to do an important job, just like me. However, they are not superior to me as a human. As I saw it they have education and experience, which I will gain one day. As a principle, I do not bow to anyone that does not bow back. The expectation of Managers and Director type of positions in decolonial era should be not for them to serve as authority or autocractically but as collaborative leaders. We’ve seen how damaging authoritarian type of functioning can be.

Honorifics such as your majesty, lordship, honour, your worship and so on originate from conventions and practices of imperial power of Kings and Queens which are hierarchical and class based. The system had us believe imperial power comes from to divinity and that is why they can bestow honour to others. They uphold deference to privilege and power, treating the ‘high’ class as if they have automatic respectability that should not be questioned. Often, historically the higher the title the closer the proximity to the royal family or the establishment.

In law school there was discussion around the ‘Queen’s Counsel’ status that lawyer’s can receive which some claimed was arbitrary and depended largely on those connected, with the odd exception. This goes into how awards and recognitions are given out but I will limit the discussion to honorifics, as systemic awards and recognitions are worth a discussion on their own. I touch on it in Dear Qallunaat on how volunteer awards are given out to qallunaat who have the luxury of spare time, when we’re already busy looking after each other ‘voluntarily’ as a community and extended families.

What honorifics do is that they infer the ordinary people and lower class have no honour, only high society does. That there is an inherent higher and lower class. Then we can have the rhetoric of capitalist imperialist states that those that work hard can gain, to aspire to become honourable.

These honorifics are a crucial part of the social and political structure that defines and reinforces social stratification – who has authority to speak, make and decide laws and policies for example. The honorific system undermines personal authority and agency to those not considered in the honour club. And if you’re not in the honour club you have to work hard to get there (apparently). That is how power structures and social order are maintained.

I remember in the early days of Nunavut interpreter translators struggling with honorifics, as they are foreign culturally to us. It still seems ridiculous to see translations of words like ‘honourable’ now. Inuit have their own practices of respect and deference. Growing up we never called most adults especially Elders directly by their name, they were someone’s mom, grandmother, father grandfather. We’re not as strict with this practice anymore as we’ve become multi regional oriented and largely assimilated to western ways (on this), but us old timers still do it within our circles.

In any situation where expected respect and deference is set as in honorifics, the telling part is how the person wears that title. Do they expect to be called by their title? Do they expect special privileges associated with that title? It tells us whether they are functioning purely from ego and about upholding the system or not.

One small of act decolonization is not to buy into the honorific system, to reject it. If someone insists to be called by their title or expect special privileges because of it, it is a clear sign they shouldn’t be in that position.

(No title)

Half the battle to self-determination is ourselves, believing that we can. If self-determination starts with us, that means we must teach and learn to love ourselves. What does that even mean? Self-love means regard for our own happiness or advantage. Not to be mistaken by selfishness, conceitedness or egotism which are symptoms of self-hate disguised as self-love. Unless we learn to self love, we act for others approval and acceptance.

We are truest versions of ourselves when we are connected to the land, in fact our splendor and magnificence can be blinding. There is so much beauty in who we truly are, the loving, kind and kin oriented who people look after each other. We are nuna people.

We are also our truest versions of ourselves when we are with people who make us feel completely safe, who give us the intellectual and spiritual freedom in their presence. We are isuma people.

We are faced, though, with denigration and violence. Not of our own making, however , we now deal with the consequences in our hands. Surfacing as a product of our socialized self-hate, while often witnessing and experiencing trauma inducing conditions no person should be facing.

It is no accident that the impact of residential and federal day schools has resulted in generations of children who feel they have been emotionally neglected, starving for approval and attention! Any little bit of attention, we interpret as acceptance and love. For example, we are so elated with government announcements of spending on our basic needs. 

An Inuk child learns to disregard or hate who they are in their many days at school and consumption of pop culture in media. So negative or absent is the image presented to them, that they are conditioned to find relief only in close identification with whiteness, striving to emulate a good white life and abandoning themselves further as they move up the academic ladder facing more scarcity of representation as they go!

The effect is that we retreat into ourselves by becoming inward-looking or cliquee,  reasserting an unhealthy identity that we culture police or underplaying even eradicating our own identity. Creating spaces to practice our own culture and identity then becomes uncomfortable, feels fake or trying too hard. Unless, of course we are in our own world, with our safe people.

These coping mechanisms are symptoms of self-hate, of a deep inferiority complex that becomes very difficult to erase or deal with. The Colonial project  shows us that it’s working by indulging of romanticizing or co-opting us by defending it.

The manifestation of self-hate takes up so much space within our communities. It is the continuity of this pathology where decisions and actions that deprive us of the chance to make an impact in respect of self-worth, decolonization and reclamation. 

As much as people can blame the slow pace of the self-determination transformation agenda in Nunavut, it is equally important to determine the role of inflicted self-hatred as a factor in the process. Being truthful to self-worth takes courage to make us active participants in our decolonization, which will ultimately play a role in the reclamation of a currently fractured Nunavut. Until we create safety in numbers this space is very lonely and isolated. It takes intentional work!

Political systems are configured in such a way that we spend more time worrying about white people, the law and policies that have been created to serve them: who and what is an education for; who and what is an economy for; who are the social systems for; how is success defined. Reacting to white systems, we then find ourselves in a helpless psychosocial ‘space’ which clouds us and distract us from self-advancement.

Our conditioned colonized minds has made us adopt the colonizer’s ideologies, values and lives. French/Tunisian writer Albert Memmi explains “To refuse means either withdrawing physically from those conditions or remaining to fight and change them. … It is not easy to escape mentally from a concrete situation, to refuse its ideology while continuing to live with its actual relationships…. Rejection of self and love of another are common to all candidates for assimilation. … Love of the colonizer is subtended by a complex of feelings ranging from shame to self-hate”. A perfect damned if you do, damned if you don’t scenario, with an internal strife.

Once you see through colonial systems and the power systems that maintain oppression, it is very difficult to unsee them. By staying silent you feel coopted and complacent, intellectually oppressed, suffocated and desperate to come out and breath. 

White or colonial systems are coercive. A very strong force that limit our identities, intellect, bodies and lives. Colonialism is motivated by the promise of plundering the environment and subjugating populations, it is not our path to salvation. 

The first step is to shed light on the situation. Once we recognize it, we can start to deal with it, reject it’s false narrative of our inferiority that feeds self-hate that disempowers.

In order to practice self-love Bell Hooks writes “One of the best guides to how to be self-loving is to give ourselves the love we are often dreaming about receiving from others.” 

By imagining ourselves and finding safe spaces that are completely intellectually and spiritually safe, we can start asserting ourselves and practicing self-love. We need safety in numbers in key strategic spaces. We are worth staying as nuna and isuma people! After all, look at the intellect that has made us who we are, where we are in this stunning landscape!

One of the senses that I think that has been suppressed since the introduction of western thinking is intuition. Intuition in all it’s forms, including tapping into loved ones far away.

Growing up clairsentience (gut feeling), claircognizance (knowing) and precognition (foreseeing future) were part of common conversation. They still exist but it is not as common in conversation, with the introduced western thinking expectation there is nothing beyond the physical world.

Inuit are deeply spiritual. We are sensitive to our surroundings and energies, so many are easily spooked. Look where we live: expansive quiet spaces, so much space shared with other humans or animals, it is wide open to be able to see long distances, to bring awareness to our size compared to the universe. It makes one more aware of our body and spirit, and how that relates to other being and our surroundings. Our cold makes us feel our breath and breathing, our life. It is an environment for intuitive making. All of nature is really, we’ve just largely disconnected with it.

Still now Inuit rely heavily on social intuition, the ability to understand body language, cues and emotions. Many of us do not mind silence among company. We are sensitive to sighs, hyperness and sudden movements. Much of our socializing is not small talk (in fact many of us can’t stand small talk) but enjoy having silence too, as we can read emotional cues. We have grown unaccostumed to long silence though. Much of our ‘communication’ is through reading people and giving cues. There is comfort in just sharing calm energy.

I remember a story of someone visiting an Elder – I think it was my late ittuq Aariaq who did not say much like my grandfather – having tea, sitting a while, not saying anything and leaving with no words exchanged.

There is also shared intuition where someone will sense something is off and ask others who confirm they sense the same thing. Usually a prediction in a death or bad incident but not always.

Observant intuition is our super power as Inuit (Indigenous people) attuned to their environment, especially avid hunters who are out on the land frequently. They will notice subtle cues and patterns in their surroundings and make judgements accordingly. This is why it is important hunters are given opportunity to be out as frequently as they can, because being attuned to the environment is so important and tapping into that subconscious observation and intuitiveness which allows good judgment in our arctic environment which can lead to danger quickly. It provides safety.

The last few years there have been incidences of me tapping into people at an intuitive state. I have shared this with a friend not wanting it to be too out there. It happened again yesterday while on a conference call hence this post, I’ll get back to this.

The one that touched my heart so deeply a few years back was when I was reading the book From the Ashes by Jessie Thistle. Normally I cannot read books that speak about addictions as it is triggering having lived as a teen with the chaos and unpredictability of a parent with trauma and addictions. For some reason I could read Jessie Thistle’s book and it gave me such deep sympathy for the sources of addictions. What ended up happening was, in the second last chapter I started to predict what he will say next. It was the clearest and longest intuitive tapping into someone I’ve ever experienced.

So yesterday I’m on a conference call with amazing people doing amazing work. Including with someone whose work and thinking I deeply respect – I have so many intellectual heroes and am so lucky I get to work with so many of them.

As the call develops we started to have a really good conversation, and being of one mind. After a while when I thought of something one of two people I felt connected to on the call (and know in person) would speak my thoughts aloud. Then I started to predict what one of them would say next. All I thought was ‘oh nice’.

I really felt in that moment that when we allow space to be ourselves as Inuit, doing work to make our society flourish all our senses including our inuition can guide our spirit for good judgment. However that comes through.

I was a bit hesitant to share this, as part of my Inuit spiritual belief is that over sharing can dissolve intent or energy. But felt it important to have conversation about working from a deeper intuitive level. As we have now been taught to distrust anything outside the physical world. So many of our efforts ‘at work’ are surface and can in fact be disempowering. Imagine, doing affirming work and tapping deep into ourselves and connecting with others there too. What power that is!

Combatting deficit thinking doesn’t have to mean ignoring issues and avoiding systemic shifts.

In our politics and policy development, where is the idea that we should only be talking about good things happening coming from? Are people over simplifying strength-based approach? Which end up ignoring social issues that are the products of colonialism and structural racism? This then getting in the way of making structural changes that are much needed to shift power and deal with our issues on our terms?

We now recognize that deficit base thinking or view that we have inherent deficiencies is a problem. How some organizations have approached this is shifting the conversation to coming from strength base, but the problem is that this is still ignoring or overlooking structural issues. Are these ideas getting conflated or confused?

We live with structural barriers and social inequality that inhibit us protecting our culture and language, and generally representing ourselves on our terms to deal with legacy of colonialism that create poverty, addictions, self -harm, violence, poor educational attainment, and so on. The idea we should not think ‘badly’ about Inuit to avoid deficit thinking then gets interpreted as we should not talk about social issues.

Do we then assume we have to think that everything is fine and ignore all the issues that exist? It seems colonialism or structural racism and deficit thinking are two interconnected concepts that can perpetuate and maybe even exacerbate each other by forcing us to ignore them.

So let’s try to unpack this…

First, what is deficit thinking? Deficit thinking is a mindset that attributes the struggles or shortcomings of individuals or groups to inherent deficiencies or inadequacies within themselves, rather than considering external structural or systemic factors. An example is people saying ‘Inuit are lazy and don’t want to work’ hence the high rate of Inuit unemployment, rather than seeing the system has barriers for Inuit to enter and stay in employment.

Deficit thinking then blames the individual or group for their circumstances, focuses on their shortcomings whether it is their skills, capabilities, knowledge, language or culture. Deficit thinking downplays or ignores systemic barriers, inequalities, the impact of historical and ongoing racism and discrimination because is about fixing people rather than oppressive systems.

So let’s talk about these systemic barriers…

Colonialism is built on structural racism. Structural racism, also known as systemic racism, refers to the ways in which racial discrimination and inequality are built into and perpetuated by the social, economic, and political structures of western institutions, policies, and practices. Examples of structural racism include unequal access to quality education and healthcare, and discriminatory hiring practices, as said previously, and wage disparities.

A perfect example of unequal access to quality education is how the territorial government continues to fail at delivering Inuktut medium of education, assuming our language will take away from a superior colonial language. We then look at it from a deficit lens of our shortcomings as Inuit of having an inferior language, rather than looking at it as a systemic barrier to delivering Inuktut medium of education.

Structural racism also ignores the harm of atrocities, acculturation, and linguicide of colonialism, the trauma, emotional and psychological damage that we live within our families and communities.

Deficit thinking can reinforce social inequality by blaming marginalized groups for their circumstances. It distracts from addressing systemic issues and hinders efforts to address inequality and promote social justice. In order to combat deficit thinking and address social inequality we have to recognize and challenge assumptions, acknowledge systemic and structural barriers.

Even though a strength-based approach is on the right path to challenging deficit thinking, it is still not going far enough in challenging systems that perpetuate disempowerment. We tend to oversimplify issues to very binary way of thinking of good and bad. Deficit thinking bad, strength based good. When it is a bigger structural issue and nuanced maybe. How do we distinguish deficit thinking and structural issues? One, is the focus, is the focus on structural issue or individual or group deficiencies. Two, is causality, recognizing it is structural racism acknowledges external factors, whereas deficit thinking attributes problems to internal shortcomings. Third, is how the solution is oriented, addressing structural racism requires policy changes and systemic reforms, whereas deficit thinking often leads to individual-level interventions.

Not coming from deficit thinking should not lead to ignoring issues and power dynamics. Even though, acknowledging these mean more work and ignoring them means not having to acknowledge the disempowerment and the amount of work we need to do. We cannot continue to ignore the denial, deflection and distraction from the truth of structural racism therefore accountability to it.

It has taken me a bit of time to process my time at Saarrut camp, partaking in the Reclaiming the Whole woman program the other week. I went as part of a team of people I have been working with to create a new philanthropic organization called Indigenous Peoples Initiative. The hope is to design the organization to support Inuit and Saami self-determination. Part of the process of working to create this organization is experiencing and witnessing self-determination in practice such as Pirurvik’s Makimaniq/Wellness programs.

I have always wanted to take part in Pirurvik programs. My circumstances have not aligned for it to happen until this summer. I have witnessed Pirurvik Centre working with Elders, language and cultural leaders developing and delivering their programs with Liina Ivik at the helm of it all. I have seen people transformed by the enriching experience they’ve had at Pirurvik. The immeasurable aspect to our language and cultural programs that uplift people and redirect them to a more prideful path.

Shortly before going I was ever so excited, but also nervous knowing growing experiences can have an aspect of discomfort and unsettledness. I was ready to face the uncomfortable. Admittedly I had moments of doubt if I should go – making excuses in my mind of maybe why I should not go, sometimes my social anxiety overtaking me. Luckily, these were short lived, trusting in the goodness of Pirurvik. So off I went with an amazing group of people.

Once in the camp it doesn’t take long to get assigned a place, get settled in and get oriented. You are given a chore sign up sheet for everyday while there. Camp life and the program is explained.

There are different options for programs. We had two mandatory programs. One major part of Reclaiming the Whole Woman program is working on seal skins, the 16 steps to preparing the seal skin to be project ready for use to make garments or projects. As Liina explains, it is a right of passage for women. The other mandatory project was to sew a marnguti, a container for your qulliq wick material, as it is an essential part of owning a qulliq and being able to tend to it.

I had no idea if my body and mind would remember my early years of practicing working on seal skins. I spent the first 11 years of my life living in homes where hunting and processing skins were a normal part of life. I would be a helper learning as I helped. Then at age 11 when I moved to Iqaluit my exposure to this life almost completely stopped, including my language development. I only spoke Inuktitut to my mom and the odd person here and there. At the time it was embarrassing to speak a different dialect in Iqaluit. I would be teased that I speak a harsh dialect, so I spoke English mostly. That is why to this day the dialect I speak is still from my hometown. I have never spoken enough Inuktitut in Iqaluit to convert dialects. Which means, I am 11 years old in my Inuit skills development, including my language development (I may be 13 now in my language development, I haven’t learned adult talk yet. Ha!).

The thing about taking part in any kind of language and cultural reclamation is that you feel so emotionally vulnerable. You feel completely exposed to what you know and what you don’t know. You are also confronted by the shame of not knowing what you feel you should automatically know.  You almost need to self-talk yourself and ask ‘how was I to learn it? I am where I am’ to let go of the shame and sense of vulnerability. I can also see how people can get stuck here in their learning journey, not being able to move beyond the shame and face their vulnerability.

The grief of not knowing what you feel you should know is also very real. Allowing for the emotions to grieve our language and cultural loss is so important and feeling safe to do so. Understanding that how grief surfaces is different for everyone. For me, it came out as grief for late loved ones who tried to teach me these skills. The cutting off of opportunity to learn from them. And appreciating so deeply what they tried to teach me, so that I could be set for life with skills and intelligence, including emotional intelligence.

Inuit know learning physical skills also teaches emotional and intellectual skills. Seal skin processing will teach you meticulousness, patience and endurance. Which can be applied in so many settings in life. Always striving for a better product, and learning something new every time you apply your skill.

Feeling vulnerable to learn and expose what you do not know in order to learn, necessitates being in a safe environment to learn. As soon as I felt my ulu scrape the seal skin it brought back a flood of memories of love and security, and tears started to flow. My Elder instructor helped me pause, reassured me it is fine to cry, stayed silent sitting next to me as I worked through my emotions.  It showed the importance of emotional safe spaces to learn.

Unfortunately, we often face lecturing type settings in learning environments or social settings. Where advice or knowledge sharing seems naggy and judgy, veering on lateral violence. I know too often I have gotten unsolicited advice by well meaning older people or peers. As if I need their piece of wisdom, because I need to be told – sometimes I question if they are trying to put me in my place because I have formal education. The sharing coming from a place of ego and sense of competitiveness. I am also aware I may be being sensitive to the ‘telling”. I often ask in my head ‘who are you to tell me?’.

My thought on unsolicited advice is that: we used to be taught in family settings; our whole knowledge systems have been undermined by the colonial project; which means we did not learn as much as we could on our language and cultural knowledge; and our sense of security of our knowledge has been rocked, we hold a lot of insecurity around it; so whatever we need to learn has to be in a safe space or safe people. We cannot assume we are automatically safe people.

Pirurvik instructors certainly felt safe. They are so supportive and understanding. It felt like a loving environment, like in a family setting.  It made me think about people in my life who have felt safe to be vulnerable to grow.

The learning environment reminded me of our former Inuit law Professor, late Ukaliannuk. He shared that as a child he would be told as he is being shown a new skill ‘learn these so that you will become a very capable adult’. And that he worked excitedly to make things for the first time or practiced making them, as he did so would imagine being a capable adult providing for his family. he said the vision of himself was beautiful. He also shared that in order for us to thrive, we all need nagliktigiji/person or people who loves us unconditionally. Again, speaking to the need to be unjudged emotional safety to learn and thrive in order to grow healthy and capable.

As we worked on the seal skins, the Elder instructors would tell us not to rush. To slow down and practice applying the skill. It was a reminder to appreciate the process, and  being in the moment. It was also a reminder for me that the source of a lot of my anxiety is the capitalistic value of ‘hurry and finish, next’ work ethic. It reminded me that the process is as, or maybe more important than the end product. So many of Inuit production are meditative, and ease the mind. Which is the opposite of how we work in capitalist systems.

We had such a rich five days at Saarrut. We arrived to fresh maktaaq, had fresh fish and seal the next day, a seal that was a first catch by one of the students, and fresh caribou on the final day. Our team worked well getting chores done and helping each other out at the camp. We had fits of laughter, crying, storytelling, sharing, listening to music, and being in each other’s company in silence. Most touching and amazing moment was to be there when the young workers caught their tuktu, and walking to them to help them carry it. We had them walk ahead so that the Elders would first greet them at the camp with their joyous gratitude. They were so tired but it was a beautiful soulful moment.

At the  end of the program we got to light a qulliq, each student, instructor and staff get to share their thoughts from the week. It is fair to say we all left feeling more complete than ever, feeling so much gratitude for the growth at Pirurvik! Qujalivunga!