Urban Inuvialuit

IT CAN BE EASY TO FORGET THAT NEARLY HALF of Inuvialuit live outside of the settlement region.

Whether they go for work, school or simply to explore the world, they’re no less Inuvialuit than those still in the homeland.

We met up with some of our friends and family living in Edmonton, which is often seen as the southern hub of the Western Arctic world.

During our interviews, we asked what it’s like being an urban Inuvialuk, if they’ve had any difficulty staying in touch with their culture, what their biggest challenges have been throughout life and if they have any advice for younger Inuvialuit thinking of making the jump.

There was a resounding feeling after it all: the need to connect the Inuvialuit community beyond the settlement region.

ELIZABETH HUNTER

My name is Elizabeth Hunter, and I am an Inuvialuit beneficiary from Inuvik. I am a mother of two and I am currently an undergrad student at the University of Alberta, working towards a BA in Political Science with a minor in Native Studies with the goal to become an Indigenous liaison in the Northern communities.

I have been back and forth between Inuvik and Edmonton my entire life. I have family both here and there but the North has always been home. Edmonton is currently providing me with the opportunity to attend university, which now that my children are old enough, I am able to do. Having immediate family nearby has made it easier being away from the North. I couldn’t do it without my support.

Growing up in the North and having that exposure to my roots and culture was crucial in helping shape who I am today. Each time I moved south, it proved to be challenging in ways that only someone who has gone through it can understand. It was the hardest when I first moved at 12 years old. That was really tough, as you are no longer surrounded by people who grew up the same way you did. People had a lot of (sometimes inappropriate) questions when they would learn where I came from. I found I started to take on the role of being an educator without even really trying.

I was walking in two worlds and had been given an opportunity to not only teach others about our culture but learn more for myself. I believe by doing that I was able to preserve my culture in a place that sometimes tries to shame you for it.

Although I found myself feeling homesick for the North very regularly, I have learned that I can honour this feeling by educating myself. The homesick feeling lessens each time I learn a little more. It lessens when I embrace the resiliency of my people and I remember where I come from. Being an urban Inuvialuk became easier for me when I recognized my ability to stay true to who I am regardless of my surroundings.

I am the survivor of challenges of all kinds. Challenges I feel are far too abundant in the North. Challenges I feel like aren’t talked about enough. I am learning more that these challenges are largely to do with the intergenerational trauma that the residential schools left people, people like my grandmother, who inevitably shared those traumas with my mother. It’s been a trickle-down effect.

I guess the biggest challenge for me would have been finding balance to heal from these traumas and be present as a mother while I do so. My children are my anchor and I decided that the traumas end with them. It hasn’t been an easy process, but

I find choosing to see what the challenges could teach me and trying to figure out how I can apply them to my life to help others has been very helpful.

In the face of these challenges, I have learned how humility, love and forgiveness are the answer to all. I have learned how resilient I am, how empathetic I am and how I can heal rather than continue to carry the hurt that was never mine to begin with. I feel that I have learned there is healing in vulnerability. I choose to be an open book with my struggles because if my story can help even one person see that they aren’t alone in the challenges they face, then I feel they served a purpose.

For other Inuvialuit, remember that it is possible to overcome adversity. It is possible to find your footing in a world you may feel you weren’t made for, a world you maybe weren’t spiritually prepared for. You have the strength of all of your ancestors who survived the unimaginable behind you, and you are worthy.

My advice to our Indigenous youth, the urban Indigenous specifically, is to never let anyone tell you who you are. You know that best. Remember that when you submerge yourself into your culture, it is then that you can use it as your power. I believe it is then that you will see your true strength and ability to flourish.

TIMOTHY WARREN RUBEN

When I was 16, I moved from Paulatuk to Fort Smith for high school. I got my diploma from Paul William Kaeser High School and moved to Grande Prairie for college. I met my wife there, and we moved about an hour outside of Edmonton in 2010.

Growing up, I did a lot of hunting right from a young age, about five or six years old. I was out with my grandparents pretty much from February until the wind or the cold brought us back home. I was getting my own food, fish and caribou, whale hunting, picking eggs. Now I call it hunting at the metal mountains. The grocery store is where I get all my meat. What I eat is probably the biggest difference in my life.

Because I moved away when young, I’ve slowly transitioned to the city atmosphere. I went from Paulatuk, which has about 320 people, to Fort Smith, which at the time had about 2,500 people, to Grand Prairie, about 50,000 people, and then to Edmonton, which is one of the biggest cities in Canada. If I jumped right into

Edmonton from Paulatuk, I think I would have been a little scared, but I’ve always said Inuit have to adapt. If we didn’t know how to adapt, I don’t think we’d have survived in the North.

As they say, you can take the Inuit out of the territory, but you can’t take the Inuit out of the person. I have to accept that I don’t live that life anymore. I grew up hunting nine to 10 months of the year. That’s a big life change. I loved it so much growing up. If I wasn’t out with my grandparents, I was with my dad or brother or uncle Steve. But I’ve taken every challenge head on. I won’t let fear hold me back. I’m afraid of heights, but that won’t stop me from putting Christmas lights up.

This is my home. I had my oldest son, Adam, and at that point, most parents stop thinking of themselves. It’s about their kids. Wherever his home is, that’s my home. Now I have two more boys and my Alberta roots are even deeper. Knowing my kids are content and happy makes it a lot easier. It’s not about me anymore.

I work at a school on a reservation here. I grew up drum dancing, and now I sing while I cook or clean. I do performances for the students. I share a few words I remember and I’ve got a lot of coworkers saying quyanainni. I try to keep the culture as much as I can, but it’s difficult. You lose it more and more over time.

My wife is Sioux and Cree, and her brother often invites me hunting. Sometimes it’s tough to come out with three boys, but I’ll help skin the catch or cut up hindquarters and get them ready to cook.

I’ve been talking with my wife about moving up North. She won’t unless she has a stable job. I could see it being scarier for people going from a big city to a small community rather than the other way around. But she has agreed that when we retire, the kids are out of the house and we don’t have to worry about work, the North would be the perfect place to just grow old together.

ELAINA WOODRUFF

I was born in Inuvik and lived in Tuktoyaktuk for the first few years of my life, but I’ve lived in many places in Western Canada.

I was adopted around the age of three, and after we adopted my little brother, we moved to Saskatoon, Sask. Then we moved to Vernon, B.C., then back to Saskatoon, then Martensville and then all over Alberta, where I’ve stayed since.

When I turned 18, I moved from Barrhead to Edmonton by myself and got a Bachelor of Arts degree, majoring in psychology, though I’m not putting it to use right now. I work as a project administrator for a restaurant supply company.

My adoptive dad was a cab driver in Inuvik, and my adoptive mom, Michelle, ran or managed the daycare. My birth mom (Allison) felt I would have a better life in Michelle’s care, and I was then separated from my biological family when we moved down south. I have four biological sisters and a biological brother. I only met my sisters when I was 20. They had a different father.

The largest struggle I’ve had growing up is related to being Inuit. I grew up in so many small towns that didn’t have much diversity, so a lot of people singled me out as an outcast. Everyone assumed I was Asian and I got made fun of for that. Being bullied was a huge struggle.

Living in Edmonton was when I stopped caring what people thought of me. There is so much diversity here. I have a lot of friends who I look up to and gained confidence from. It wasn’t until I left Barrhead and all those other small towns that I overcame bullying and realized that I don’t care what they think anymore.

I’ve always loved Edmonton. I’d like to travel and get to know the world, live in other places, but I’ll always come back here.

Because I was adopted and left the North, I naturally lost that Inuvialuit connection to my culture. My mom lost touch with

everyone, and I didn’t know my biological family until I was 18. Recently, I’ve met a lot of family and friends from up North. I wish it were different and I had grown up with that connection to my culture, but my mom did the best she could as a single parent with two children and I appreciate everything she did for me.

I don’t have a strong Inuit identity and I’m trying to reconnect with that. Knowing my four sisters, two on my mother’s side and two on my father’s, has helped a lot, as they’re all connected to our culture and learning the language. I’ve been inspired by them.

As an adopted person, I never felt like I was missing anything, but I felt like I didn’t fit in.

I’m 27, and I haven’t yet had a trip home to the North, but it’s definitely something I plan to do in the near future. Until that happens, I want to connect with other Edmonton Inuit and reconnect with my culture.

ADELA AREY-MCCARTHY

I moved down here as a teen with my family, and then I settled in Hay River for a few years. After we lost my dad three years ago, we moved back here permanently.

Life is good here. There’s a lot more opportunity for both school and work. You do miss the sense of community from home, but the cost of living is much lower.

Last year, I started up my own online business where I reveal pearls in oysters and then set them on jewelry. I was watching livestreams on Facebook like I usually do, and I came across an oysterrevealing stream that had me infatuated. It’s pretty addictive. Initially, I tried to bring the pearls to craft sales, but that wasn’t cutting it, so I had no choice but to start livestreaming myself.

I’ve done a lot of research since, from oyster farms in Asia to jewelry factories. It took a long time, but I managed to get it going and it’s exciting. The best I’ve done is getting just over 30 viewers at once. I get a lot of support from back home.

I have two daughters, 13 and 12. They’ve lacked the Inuvialuit culture, because we didn’t grow up in the region, and I’ve lived away from home for so long that even I feel out of touch now. The coverage we find online helps – drum dances, livestreams. Those bring me joy to see.

Raising my children in my teenage years was one of the hardest challenges I’ve had. I had to make the right choices to build them up to become good members of society. I also struggled with addiction and depression. I have had to learn to forgive myself for the bad choices I made.

Through it all, one recommendation I have is always being grateful for the many lessons and blessings that God has given us. We are all unique and need to love and accept who we are. Keep striving and don’t be ashamed to seek help when you need it, because with God, all things are possible.

JANICE GORDON-SQUIRREL

I left Inuvik as a child with my mom, who went to Whitehorse and then Grande Prairie for school.

I was in postsecondary school at Yellowknife, but the school shut down halfway through, so I transferred to Edmonton. I was only going to stay a little while, but I’ve been here for five years now.

My original plan was to go to Marvel College for hair design, but I got my office admin diploma first. I’m currently working for an auto finance company.

I feel like there’s so much more to do here and so many more opportunities. Back in Inuvik, we were always a bit bored. I didn’t truly grow up in Inuvik, as I left while young, so I didn’t grow up doing all the traditional activities like going out on the land. I still go up and visit at least once a year, but I don’t often get to engage in that part of my culture.

There are so many different cultures here and different types of people, but I don’t see many Inuvialuit. There are no festivals or anything for Inuvialuit. No one has recognized my ancestry.

Staying in touch with who I am and where I come from has been my biggest challenge. On top of the fact I left home young, my father passed away when I was 10, so I didn’t get a chance to truly know him while growing up. I still have my mother, who lives in Norman Wells now.

My family and friends send me traditional food, plus my husband still hunts. In that way, I’m keeping in touch with my culture.

In the future, I’d like to open my own business, and I probably want to go back up north to do that. There’s so much competition here for hair, but not as much up there.

For anyone thinking of moving south, I say do it, even if it’s only temporary. You can learn so much about yourself and what you like to do. The city is full of events and there is a lot to do while bettering yourself. You can always go back home if you don’t like it. It’s a good opportunity for younger people to get out, see the world and challenge themselves.

STEVE KIKOAK

I left my home of Tuktoyaktuk to do schooling, and then I left the Northwest Territories altogether after some tragedies in my life, just to get away.

I went to Ontario first and got my heavy equipment operator certificate. The Inuvialuit Regional Corporation helped me with that. I worked all over in mines, and I just completed my oil sands safety certificate, which gives me access to work in the oil sands.

Leaving the North was hard, because I had to leave my family and friends, but I had to get away from it all. The hurt was too much. I had to leave to find myself again and continue to be a better person. I think I’ve accomplished that.

You can’t escape tragedies in a small community like Tuk. There are not many resources, but you do have your elders to talk to. In a small town, you are constantly reminded of what happened. It’s hard.

I’ve worked steady since. I miss the hunting for sure. My parents would take me hunting and travelling all over when I was a kid. I miss my school friends too.

Living in the south gets a little lonely, but you do get to see family and friends once in a while. I was just back in Inuvik last summer to watch my son get married. I have two grandkids now. He’s happy, I’m happy. I still have to go back and check the all-winter road, which we built a few years ago and I was a part of.

If you’re living up north, my advice is to stay in school and get some training there if you can. If you want to further your education, come down south. There are more opportunities and things to do. You have limited resources up north. Get all your important phone numbers together and always keep in touch with your family.

SYDNEY ELEANOR DUNLOP

After being born in Inuvik, I was back and forth between Tuktoyaktuk and Inuvik in the first few years of my life before we permanently moved to Inuvik in Grade 2 or 3.

My mom and I needed a change, so we moved to Yellowknife and I finished my last two years of high school there. I moved to Edmonton in 2014 to go to university and play junior hockey.

Before I aged out of hockey, I met my now-fiancé. We were managing a partially long-distance relationship as I worked between here and Inuvik after university. We decided we wanted to start a family, so I moved here permanently and took up a job with Northwind Industries. I do the paperwork for all of the goods we ship up to the North, so I still have that connection to home. We have a son now and bought a house together.

Life here is different. I grew up in very small communities where you know everybody and you’re with family all the time. We don’t have family here, myself or Chris, so it can get pretty lonely at times. You can be in the most crowded place in the city and still feel lonely, but we’re making it work.

Keeping in touch with my culture is harder here. Back home, there are all the feasts and community gatherings. I was very much into dancing and used to travel to all the communities for square dancing and jigging contests. Cultural gatherings like that are very uncommon here. You don’t hear the language, you don’t see traditional clothing. Despite that, it’s been worth it.

My advice for people considering heading south is to absolutely go for it. If you’re scared, at least try it out. You never know what you’re going to fall into, what you’re going to learn or who you’re going to meet. It’s a great opportunity.

LEW JOBS

I was a product of the Sixties Scoop. I’m a Gruben.

I was adopted when I was three weeks old by teachers in Fort McPherson. We moved south early in my life and I didn’t make it back to the North until I was 26.

As I grew up, the government changed the legislation around adoptions and allowed adopted people to find their biological family. The lady who adopted me called me one day and gave me my mom’s and sister’s name and number and said, “Call them. This is your family. This is where you’re from.”

I was 19 when I first called them. When I first went home to Tuktoyaktuk at 26, it was kind of scary and awkward. You’re basically a stranger meeting your mom and your sister. I stayed with my nan Persis Gruben, and I recently made the trip up to celebrate her 100th birthday. She took me in her home that first time.

My adoptive parents didn’t tell me about my background as a child. They were German, so I was raised in a German lifestyle. By the time I made it home to the North, I had been to Germany four times. My second language is German. I identified more with the German lifestyle than I did with the Inuvialuit. It was only when I hit 40, because I have two sons now, that I’ve been getting more serious about my culture and Indigenous lifestyles in general.

In my 20s, I was at the height of my alcoholism. I’ve been clean for 11 years. I don’t think I was a very good house guest. There were a lot of emotions going through me that I didn’t deal with very well. I didn’t connect well with my biological mother at first. It was her husband at the time who told her to give me a chance, and thankfully she did.

I remember going on a trip to Yellowknife when I was 10 or 11. There was an Inuit lady working in one of the hotels, and this is embarrassing on my part, but I asked, “How did a Chinese lady get up here?” My adoptive father laughed and said she’s Inuit. I had been teased my whole life about being Chinese. That’s when I put two and two together and figured out where I came from. I realized I was Inuit, but where I was from and the culture, I didn’t know anything about.

When I grew up, Indigenous people weren’t thought of in a very nice manner, and I was taught that. I feel shame about this now, but I grew up not liking Indigenous people. Not my mom and dad, but other relatives told me how lucky I was

not being raised native. That sticks with you. As a child, you don’t understand that it’s not true. I had to reach out as an adult and try to break down those barriers on my own.

There was also shame on my end for not knowing my culture. I was embarrassed. People would find out I’m Inuvialuit and ask me all these questions about living in the North, and I’d have no answers.

With my sons, we try to incorporate the culture to the extent we can. My 11-yearold loves to skateboard. There’s an urban side to this too. As much as I try to incorporate aspects of the culture, there are certain things I can’t offer them. This has been their home. They know their family, and that’s all I can do. Maybe when they get older, if they show more interest, hopefully by then I will have more information to share with them and make some trips home.

My advice to anyone going through a similar situation is to give yourself a break. You don’t know. Don’t feel bad. Ask questions and listen. There’s a willingness to teach if there’s a willingness to learn. I found that out. There are people who love to share knowledge and stories. If you grew up away from your culture, it’s not your fault if you don’t know it.

PATRICIA AREY-MCCARTHY

I’m originally from Inuvik but I grew up in Aklavik.

My husband at the time had a job with Ekati, and we were tired of the overnight stops in Yellowknife when he would come home, so we moved to Hay River to be closer to his work.

Things didn’t work out for me and my family, and I didn’t want to go back to Inuvik, so I chose Edmonton. It was always my favourite city and my numberone vacation destination.

It’s great here. Three of my kids graduated from high school. I came here because I wanted them to experience different cultures and lifestyles, rather than back home in a small community. Learning how the city works, following bus routes and getting to appointments on time was the hardest part at first.

As far as our Inuvialuit culture, there’s nothing here. Thank God for Facebook. That’s the only way we see drum dances and celebrations. I’ve travelled home many times myself, but it’s costly to bring my family.

In 2007, I quit smoking and took up carving. I work with deer antler, soapstone and sometimes wood. My late husband introduced me to carving. Since 2015, I have also been silversmithing, which is offered at the arts centre here.

To move south, you have to be family oriented. I went to residential school in Yellowknife and was very lonely, even though many students from the community came too. It’s not the same as having your own family. I also chose to live in Edmonton so that I could support my kids going to postsecondary school.

ANGELA SMITH

I was 21 when I left Inuvik and moved to Edmonton.

I worked in the healthcare field, which was emotionally and physically challenging but rewarding at the same time. I chose to stop due to it affecting my home life and how I would bring my work home with me. Now I’m primarily a mother to three children.

I love being a mom and living here. The only thing I dislike is having to travel so far to hunt or fish or even go camping. I miss how you can just jump in the boat or skidoo and go to your camp. I’ve been here 18 years now. It’s a good place to raise my family and have opportunities for my kids.

The first thing I got when I moved south was a long-distance plan to stay in touch with my family. Things have changed a lot since then and now we have cell phones. I’d call my mom or cousins every day. It was hard to adjust to the city, as I was used to visiting my family or friends next door or across the street. Being so far also has its disadvantages, like when family is sick or passing and you’re not there to help or comfort them. Losing my mom and dad was very hard for me.

We keep in touch with our culture. Right now, my daughter and husband are out hunting. They got a deer this morning and they’re trying to get an elk. We have moose we got from last year, and my family sends us caribou and fish. We go fishing in the summer, ice fishing in the winter, camping all year round. Some of my friends call me Bush Girl.

Something important to me is listening to your elders, because they know what’s going on. Respect them, because you can learn from them. Finish school and always seek help when you need it. Lastly, I want to give a hello to my family and friends up north!

AMANDA SHORTREED

I grew up in Inuvik and left to pursue my postsecondary education in Calgary when I was 18.

That was one of the biggest challenges in my life. I wasn’t prepared for city living. I had vacationed to Edmonton before, but it wasn’t a holiday when I was going to school.

You feel like a little fish in a big pond. You have to teach yourself how to live in a city, like taking a bus to get to school and finding directions. In Inuvik, you can walk from one end of town to the other in a half hour.

I took business administration in college and majored in management. I went back north and worked for three-and-a-half years, but I found I wasn’t fulfilled in my career. I decided to go back to school and pursue a legal assistant diploma. That got me jobs in Yellowknife, Grande Prairie, Inuvik and now Edmonton.

I moved here with my now-husband seven years ago and work as a paralegal and corporate secretary. I absolutely love it in Edmonton. I have three daughters and they have access to everything here. The only thing missing is the exposure to the culture.

Friends and family come down all the time and they often bring traditional food with them. I cook with my girls and have been teaching them how to make traditional dishes from the North. My mom is also an amazing seamstress and I’m trying to teach my girls how to sew. They don’t get to directly see drum dancing and traditional events, but I try to instil what I can being in the south.

You’ve got to take challenges head on and persevere to become successful. It’s scary if you live in a small town your whole life and move to a city, but just go for it and do what is right for yourself to reach your full potential, especially if it means having to move to further your education. There are so many opportunities and career paths to choose, whether that means staying North or moving south to further your education, but get your education, as it will open many doors and opportunities for you.