Protest Signs: Pro-seal hunt demonstration by Nunavut Sivuniksavut

Last March 17, rather than spending St. Patrick's Day drinking green beer like other students, the students of Nunavut Sivuniksavut held a demonstration on Parliament Hill to show support for Inuit right to hunt seal.

The students wanted to raise awareness about the importance of the seal hunt to Indigenous communities. Even many animal rights activists who argue for a ban on the seal hunt often indicate that they are willing to make an exception for Indigenous subsistence hunting and mainly want to focus on commercial seal hunters. However, it's important to know that the majority of the commercial seal hunt is actually done by Inuit hunters, whose main source of income is the commercial seal hunt, including income to buy the gas, ammunition and other hunting equipment to get the seal meat to feed their families. It's not so easy to separate the two notions, and the seal hunt bans have had a huge devastating effect on the local economies of Inuit communities, even with a supposed Indigenous exception.

You don't need to take my word for it; there's a thought-provoking film by Nunavut filmmaker Alethea Arnaquq-Baril called Angry Inuk which does a thorough job of looking at the issue in an informative yet interesting way. It's definitely worth checking out, no matter what your thoughts on the subject are. There's also a great essay analyzing the colonialist aspects of the issues (although, like I said, you gotta watch the movie!)

The rally involved demonstrations of traditional Inuit throat singing, dancing, and even a sealskin fashion show.  I'm always impressed by Nunavut Sivuniksavut students' strong political engagement and eagerness to share their cultural pride with the rest of the world.

Traditional dancing with drums and singing

Acting out a typical seal hunt, including preparing the sled

Sealskin fashion show

Protest signs: Islamophobia counter rally

Checked out the counter protest to the Concerned Coalition of Concerned Citizens' March for Freedom, Liberty & Justice that was supposedly planned today. Saw only one guy turn up for the original March; the rest of the crowd seemed to be rallying against Islamophobia.

Georgetown at night

One evening, I instead of going to the gym, I decided to take a walk along the Sea Wall, which traces the coast. Parts of Guyana are below sea level at times, but their former Dutch colonialists didn’t let that stop them, building a long dyke along the seashore. I was admiring the view of the ocean and taking pictures when I realized that what I thought had been a pile of rubbish under a palm tree was in fact a small body huddled under a plastic warp, with only a foot sticking out, apparently sleeping.

I’m here during the beginning of the rainy season, so often the rain gushes down from the sky as though someone has turned on a faucet, and after a few minutes stops just as suddenly. One night I was woken from my sleep from those sounds, the skies pouring so heavily they sounded like a constant roar rather than the pitter-patter I was used to.

I thought about that person sleeping under the plastic on the beach, and the other people I had seen sleeping on the dusty roads, who would all be caught in the rain now, and I felt sad. I keep running into this one man wandering about town. He had no shirt or shoes, and all he had to wear was some kind of blanket wrapped around his waist like a makeshift skirt.

North Americans tend to think of the Caribbean as a paradise of turquoise oceans and sandy beaches upon which we can lounge with our umbrella drinks. In reality though, these Caribbean lands are real societies with real people and businesses and governments. The country still has to be run. They also have real problems. My work there had me spending time looking at the other side of Caribbean life, attending courts, businesses, libraries, charities, listening to stories that emerged about crime and violence and resource shortages and infrastructural issues. The poverty that I witnessed just walking down the streets were difficult to ignore. Rundown shacks built out of corrugated tin, young homeless people, bone-thin stray dogs.

Guyana Legal Aid Clinic

public service announcement on TV about a local shelter (the only women's shelter in the country)

Despite the cheery photos of palm trees and poolside drinks that I post on Instagram, the truth is, Georgetown can be a dangerous place. The newspaper seems to report on violent crimes every day. People here have guns. Just yesterday a burglar was shot in the face while breaking into a store. There was a prison riot a little while ago, resulting in a fire that killed over a dozen prisoners. Everyone has a personal story about someone close dealing with domestic abuse. Our hotel is guarded by a security officer at the front, and two of them at night, with a heavy iron gate that bars the entrance. Even some of the stores have iron gates that you have to get past to go shopping. I do not walk around outside after dark, even if the place I want to go to is very close. I don’t post these pictures on Instagram.

Still, at night the streets seemed to be filled with parties. I can hear the sounds from my hotel room, and sometimes I’m not sure if someone is playing shouty music from their car or if there’s a fight going on outside. Perhaps this makes me an old person.

Okay, so, we need to talk about food in Guyana.

Thank goodness Bettencourt restaurant staff have been sneaking things like carrots into my blended fruit juices at breakfast, otherwise I really would not have eaten any veggies on this whole trip. The travel nurse had told me to avoid salads, and I basically used that as an excuse to avoid all vegetables. It’s not that I have anything against Guyana’s vegetables, but really, I’m just *that* into Guyana’s amazingly fresh fruit and yummy chicken dishes.

The guidebook tends to complain about restaurants lacking in ambience. I can’t help but wonder if “ambience” in such contexts mean that these places don’t meet pre-conceived western notions. At any rate, the places I tried weren’t lacking in anything.

Especially if your thing is neon palm trees

Ambience! All over the place! (Pegasus Hotel)

I had a lovely relaxed dinner at the Duke Lodge, watching the sun go down between the palm trees by the swimming pool. It was a bit eerie to be the only patron at the restaurant for the night, but it made for wonderful service, unhurried, polite, attentive. It was a stark contrast to my experience at the Oasis Café, where I was sitting at a table waiting to meet someone, and a horde of young schoolboys descended on the café and filled all the tables, including mine, to watch the football game.
 

The Oasis Cafe, right before a swarm of schoolchildren descended on me

Duke Lodge

Poolside bar

Curry! More curry!

The only restaurant patron, and therefore the best restaurant patron

On the other end of the dining scale, I had lunch at House of Flavours, a small Rastafarian hole-in-the-wall joint that doubled as a reggae music store. They only served one dish, a delicious ital dish of rice, beans, veggies, seasoned with mango achar, served in a gourd, all for less than two dollars. They also gave me freshly squeezed mango and pineapple juice. They showed war movies on a small TV on top of the fridge while restaurant patrons ate. I could easily eat here every day.

Jerk chicken yessss

Eventually it was time for me to go home, and face the fact that I was going to have to start eating vegetables like kale again. Good-bye American Netflix. I had in my head a list of activities that I wanted to do the next time I came back to Guyana later this year.

On my flight home, nobody vomited, at least as far as I could hear. I couldn’t figure out how to turn on the sound for the in-flight movie, so I watched half of Concussion by making up my own lines for the actors through lip-reading. The flight attendants served us a hot meal of Indian chicken on rice. As we prepared to land, the pilot announced that Toronto was not too bad, about ten degrees Celsius.

“That’s bad,” said the Guyanese ladies next to me, shivering.

Should I go to law school for a career in social justice? And how do I do it?

I’ve been getting this question often enough that I decided to make this into a blog post for anyone else who might be thinking about going to law school for future in social justice, human rights or other public interest reasons.

This is what a social justice lawyer looks like. .. freezing cold

Do I need to go to law school to work in social justice?

You need to be a lawyer if you want to litigate social justice issues in court, because you have to be a lawyer to practice law.

Otherwise, there are many ways to work in social justice without a law degree. You can be an educator, a researcher, an analyst, an organizer, an activist, or a writer. So no, you don’t need to go to law school.

Also, keep in mind that just because you have a law degree doesn’t necessarily mean it will be easy for you to find work in social justice.

However, having a law degree can certainly help.  Law school teaches you to analyze and reason in a manner way that can be very useful for social justice work. All of the social justice jobs that I have worked after law school have required a law degree, even though the work does not necessarily involve the formal practice of law.  And I won’t lie: people assume that you’re smart, so the credentials make you look good as a job candidate.

So even though you don’t need to, should you go to law school?

My best advice to think carefully about your reasons for considering law school.  Here are some things to think about in particular:

•       Law school is competitive. I don’t mean that law school is hard to get into; I mean that once you get in, law students are graded on a bell curve. Your grade is your ranking. No matter how hard you and everyone else have tried, only a certain number of people get A’s, most people get B’s and a certain number of people always have to get the C. Even if everyone is brilliant. So you are, in a sense, competing against your own classmate friends. I used to describe it as being like the Hunger Games, although that’s obviously an exaggeration.  This is important because people who want to work in social justice often are empathetic and very sensitive (you care about people, right?), and working in a tough environment like law school can feel soul-crushing at times, and sometimes takes a toll on your mental health.
•       Law school is expensive. Even if you’ve managed to deal with student loans from your undergraduate degree, law school is three more years of school. If you’re already in debt, having a bit more debt doesn’t seem so bad now, but many lawyers will tell you that once you graduate and have to start repayment, you are going to start to wonder if you can actually afford to take that low-paying public interest job when that Bay Street articling position pays so much better.  Don’t fool yourself: swimming in debt feels awful and it may prevent you from taking the career path you want to take.

Whatever you decide, don’t go to law school just because your parents want you to, or because you don’t know what else to do. Those are the kinds of people who often struggle once they get to law school.

I especially encourage you to go to law school if you come from an underrepresented community. For example, Nunavut needs more Inuit lawyers who understand the particular cultures and values of the land far better than any lawyer who grew up in Ontario will. Go for it and change the world! And don’t let the bastards grind you down.

You don't have to be a lawyer to work in social justice. 

It helps to be able to sing on key though.

How do I do it? Tips for preparing for a social justice career in law school

Again, don’t go into a lot of debt if you can.  Not everyone is privileged enough to avoid debt, but do your best to mitigate it.  Work for a few years to save up before you go to law school.  Choose a law school that has lower tuition: Canada is not like the States, in that all of the Canadian law schools will give you an acceptable legal education that will prepare you to become a lawyer. Work summer jobs. Budget carefully.

Get practical experience in the area you want, even before you graduate law school.  There is a lot of need for social justice lawyers out there, but generally it’s experienced lawyers that are needed. Chances are that you will work with vulnerable populations, and they deserve someone who is competent and experienced too. Getting practical experience, whether it’s through summer jobs, clinical programs, or volunteer work, will put you so far ahead of others in getting a job after law school in the area you want. Law school teaches you how to read and analyze the law, but it does not necessarily teach you how to manage client relationships, handle multiple files, write in a manner that is easy for the public to understand, network effectively with important stakeholders, and these are all skills that look great for someone looking to hire you into a social justice position. Do not wait until after law school to get practical experience; it will just be all that much harder for you, 

Make your own opportunities. The best advice I ever received from a public interest lawyer was to find your own funding and then propose a project to the organization you want to work for. Why wouldn’t they hire you? There are a lot of funding sources out there; some law schools even offer funding awards for public interest projects you propose.  Be creative. Network like crazy. Start up your own charity or business, if you have a great idea that no one else has thought of. 

Educate yourself with as many different perspectives as possible. This is especially the case if you come from a privileged background. It doesn’t matter if you want to work for women’s rights; you should still learn about disability issues, refugees, environmental justice, colonialism, etc. It’s called intersectionality, and the broader perspective you get, the better person you will be as a social justice activist. Plus the social justice world doesn’t need any more ignorant assholes.  So check your attitude and open your ears. I especially encourage you to maintain relationships and friendships with people who are NOT lawyers or law students, so you don't get stuck in the goldfish bowl of law school.

Don’t sell out. You will be tempted to stray from the social justice path. It is so tempting. Those Seven Sisters wine and cheese receptions are just so impressive. And you’ve been a student for so long…wouldn’t it be nice to be able to afford to buy yourself something nice for once if you had a nice job? But you should always be mindful of your goal, the reason why you went to law school in the first place.  The legal community has an ongoing joke about the stereotypical student that put “social justice” and “saving the world” in their law school application personal statements, only to end up working for private law firms in corporate law. It’s easy to stray. Don’t stray!  (Also, keep in mind that there are social justice jobs out there that do pay decently. Not necessarily as much as my Bay Street friends, but it is possible to live comfortably if you can find the right opportunity.)

 Well, it’s okay to sell out a little. If you have the opportunity to get valuable work experience in the area that you want to work in, then give it a try. For example, maybe you want to be a refugee lawyer helping people with their claims, or an Aboriginal lawyer working on First Nations land claims. Working for the government in these areas will actually give you great relevant experience and valuable perspectives, even if that’s not what you want to do forever. Be creative about where you can get experience.   

If your reason for going to law school was to work in social justice and not necessarily to be a lawyer, then remember that there are a lot of great alternative law jobs out there. Stuff where it is useful to have a law degree, but you aren’t necessarily practicing law, in the eyes of the law society. 

Working in social justice is hard. It’s emotionally-draining at times, and at all time you are carving your own path.  If you want to be a corporate lawyer, Bay Street firms will come to your campus to schmooze you and the law schools will set up on-campus interviews.  All of that is set up for you.  This is not the case for social justice.  It’s a constant uphill battle, often frustrating, discouraging, and exhausting. But it’s also rewarding. It may not always feel like it, but you are doing meaningful work and you are helping people.

If you have a deep-seated desire to work in social justice, then go for it! The world can be a terrible place, and it needs people who want to help. Whether it’s with a law degree or not.

Nunavut's Regional Finalists in CBC Music's Searchlight

Christine says thanks!
Earlier this year, we entered our song Fault Lines in CBC Music's Searchlight contest for Canada's Best New Artist. We've been enjoying discovering new music and making musician friends, but we've also been honoured to have been voted as the regional finalist for Nunavut! Today, we also found out that we made it to the next round, the top ten acts across Canada. We feel so lucky!

Our song Fault Lines is about violence against women, and supporting survivors of sexual violence.  It's a huge problem everywhere, but especially in Nunavut which sees extraordinarily high violent crime rates compared to the rest of the country.

I made a series of Arctic postcards explaining the lyrics to the song, which you can check out here.

We're also working on a music video for our single Fault Lines, and as part of it, we're asking people to send in photos of themselves with their eyes covered, holding signs that say "End violence against women". You can check out some of the photos here at the Fault Lines Project, and don't forget to send your own photos in!

Fault Lines will be on our upcoming album "Ovayok Road", recorded entirely in Cambridge Bay, which we'll be releasing later this summer - for now, you can preview some of the songs from the album here.

Also, don't forget to vote for our song Fault Lines here!

Performing Fault Lines in our tiny little Cambridge Bay jam space

Also, a huge thanks to the ladies at Finding True North for recommending this blog in their list of favourite Nunavut blogs!

World Suicide Prevention Day

Last week was Embrace Life Week in Nunavut, which coincided with World Suicide Prevention Day.

As I've mentioned before, suicide is a major issue in Nunavut, with suicide rates at a disproportionately high rate in this territory, particularly among Inuit people.  Last year, there were more suicides in Nunavut than there have ever been, causing the coroner of Nunavut to call for a public inquest.

It was really heart-warming to see the whole community come together to show their support about this important issue.  The day's activities included an assembly in the high school and a march through town.

I love this little girl's sign, which quoted Lady Gaga

The magic is gone: I can no longer listen to the Flaming Lips the same way

These are my reflections in response to recent news about The Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne's decision to fire their drummer over allegations of anti-Native American racism, as well as Mr. Coyne's other actions, including the decision to post a picture of a dog wearing a Native American headdress.

Dear Mr. Coyne,

When I was in my first year of law school, I visited my friend Mike who was working at a recording studio in Scarborough. He had just finished setting up what he described "the perfect sound system". "You've got to listen to try it out," he urged me, and sat me down in the most acoustically perfect spot in the room. He leaned over to press play on the computer and the most wonderful music flowed out of the speaker. I had never heard music presented in such a manner before. I closed my eyes and let the music caress the space between my ears the way a lover would. It was one of the most memorable music experiences I've ever had, where the moment was defined and made special by absolutely nothing other than the music itself.

That song was "The Spark That Bled" by your band, the Flaming Lips. Mike explained to me that he liked using that song to test out his sound system, because he liked it so much.

  I stood up and I said yeah: A fan video of "The Spark That Bled"
I'd been listening to your band long before that perfect music moment. One of my best friends in high school at the time, Bill, was really into the Flaming Lips and he urged me to listen to this "really weird, really awesome" band he discovered. His music taste was pretty good, and I liked what I heard. But I never got fell in love until I listened to those words, "the softest bullet ever shot". After that, I was a convert. I was excited to see you play at Ottawa's Bluesfest, where you arose like a god and seemed to float above the crowd in a giant bubble. Your show was a party, an escape into my childhood's fantasy worlds. Everything was magical. Your music was magical. The experience of listening to you and seeing you in concert was magical. I've now since started my own band and have been trying to re-create that sort of perfect magical musical moment myself.

But with you, that magic is gone now, and I miss it.

I was so sad to read about the latest events. How your friend Christina Fallin posed in a Native American headdress, and astounded by the anger that the photo produced, responded to the people protesting her concert by performing a fake war dance and flipping them off from the stage. And that you were seen pointing and laughing at the protesters. And that you had also responded to the criticism of racism by posting more photos of people and a dog in a headdress. And that you fired your drummer over this issue. I hoped that it wasn't true, and that the journalists had gotten it wrong somehow.

Disappointing when an artist you respected turns out to be a misinformed racist. @waynecoyne of the Flaming Lips,why? pic.twitter.com/sbvkewNLE7
— Deejay NDN (@deejayndn) April 29, 2014

There's an Ontario campaign that asks people where they would draw the line for a political issue. "Your favourite singer assaulted his singer," the campaign asks. "Do you download his latest single?" To be honest, all this time I always thought that it would depend. I thought maybe there would be a way to acknowledge that you disagree with an admired celebrity's personal life while still enjoying their art. But when asked the question: "Your favourite artist disrespects indigenous people. Do you still feel the magic in his music?" the truth is, Mr. Coyne, the magic that I used to feel from your music is now gone, and it has been replaced by a bitter taste in my mouth and a lot of sadness. 

From Draw The Line:  we have to ask ourselves where we draw the line when it comes to our favourite artists' actions.
I am not Aboriginal, and I do not pretend to speak for indigenous people. I don't pretend that I will ever completely understand their experiences, because their history of oppression is unique and different from mine. But as a woman of Asian descent, I know a thing or two about cultural appropriation, when people show up to Halloween parties labelling your culture as a costume, reducing a rich and beautiful world that you grew up in to a ridiculous stereotype. When they say something stupid like, "Your people are very beautiful, and you are very good at math" and are astounded that you aren't falling over flattered. I have experienced being laughed at by people when I tried to stick up for myself against racism. I have had my outrage dismissed as hyper-sensitivity. Do you know what those people were? They were bullies.

Now when I listen to your music, no matter how much I close my eyes and try to conjure up that perfect first moment, all I see are the faces of all those people that laughed at me for being a weird Asian kid, and for some reason - perhaps irrationally, I know - I see your face there too.

Do you at any point take a step back, look at where you are and what you are doing, and wonder, "How did I get to be here, on the side of things where I am laughing at people that have been historically oppressed for centuries? Supporting people who flip them off? How did I get to be that guy?" I hope you are reflecting on this rather than just reacting. I would have liked to have thought that you'd be an ally rather than a bully, but there's nothing that can be done now to bring that magic back. I can no longer listen to your music with the same wonder.

Fundraiser Friday: women fighting for social justice

When was the last time I did a Charity Friday? Which in retrospect I don't know why I didn't name Fundraiser Friday.  Okay. From now on, it's Fundraiser Friday.  Unless it's French Fridays.  Maybe once in a while, French Fundraiser Friday. Mais ca va etre plus difficile.

As you may know, I am really passionate about poverty issues, especially food security.  For the past five days, my friend Brittany has been living on $1.75 per day on drinks and food. Why? That's the challenge that people living below the poverty line face every day.  Brittany is not only raising money for anti-poverty initiatives through Live Below The Line, she's helping us become more aware of poverty issues. It's a really interesting project. I would be curious to try a Nunavut version (unfortunately, I'm not sure you could even buy a single grocery item for $1.75 at the grocery store here). You can donate to her cause here.

In another equally important issue, my friend Janet will be spinning for two hours at the third annual Ottawa Rape Crisis Centre's Spin-a-thon on May 3, in support of the Ottawa Rape Crisis Centre. The Ottawa Rape Crisis Centre does a lot of important work in supporting survivors in Ottawa, by providing a crisis line, public education programs, and counselling. You can donate to support her here.

Finally, my band has decided that all proceeds from digital purchases of our song "Victoria Island" will go towards local community initiatives here in Cambridge Bay, including our local food bank, Diamonds in the Ruff (a local dog rescue and welfare group), and other projects to benefit low-income families in need of assistance. You can listen and download the song Victoria Island on Bandcamp here: http://scarybearsoundtrack.bandcamp.com/track/victoria-island.

We talk a little more about the situation of dogs in Cambridge Bay in today's Searchlight vlog. Also, rabies.



Remember to keep voting for us for CBC Music's Searchlight!

My Letter to the Minister of Foreign Affairs

In 2011, I participated in the International Youth Internships Program managed by CIDA in partnership with the Canadian Bar Association to work in human rights law in Namibia. Since then, the program has been postponed and is now under review, where the Department of Foreign Affairs, Trade and Development must decide whether to continue funding the program. I wrote this letter in support of the program.


The Honourable John Baird, P.C., M.P.
Minister of Foreign Affairs
House of Commons, Ottawa, ON
K1A 0A6

Dear Minister Baird,

My name is Gloria and I live in Cambridge Bay, Nunavut.

From 2011 to 2012, as part of the International Youth Internships Program (IYIP) managed by the Canadian International Development Agency, I had the privilege to spend seven months in Windhoek, Namibia, working with the Legal Assistance Centre on a project focused on human rights. The Legal Assistance Centre is a non-profit organization that was originally founded to combat apartheid, and now continues to assist local Namibians with important legal human rights issues.

You see, in 2007 I went to law school so I could become a human rights lawyer. However, I found that it was difficult to gain experience in human rights law, as most of the opportunities were unpaid. Many law school graduates cannot afford to work for free, especially if they have student loans.

This is why I consider myself to be fortunate that the IYIP existed at the time. It was a rare and exciting opportunity to get experience as a human rights lawyer, while receiving financial support to help cover my basic day-to-day living expenses. While working with the Legal Assistance Centre as part of the IYIP in partnership with the Canadian Bar Association, I developed essential skills in human rights law while learning to adapt to life in a developing foreign country. It was a life-changing experience where I learned so much.


I am now working as a poverty lawyer in Nunavut, one of the few such lawyers resident in the entire territory. I assist my predominantly Inuit low-income clients with their legal rights, including in employment law, landlord-tenant disputes, and human rights complaints. I feel very fortunate to be working here.

I would like you to know that my employer has informed me that my experience in Africa under the IYIP was one of the reasons why they thought I was a suitable candidate for this position. They explained that my IYIP experience demonstrated my ability to adapt to and thrive in a cross-cultural context, often with limited resources. The experience that I have gained from the IYIP continues to directly help me with my job today, as my clients in Nunavut often deal with similar themes of poverty, addiction, domestic abuse, and isolation that I saw in Namibia – although in a very different environmental climate, of course.

Many of my colleagues who graduated law school with me are still struggling to find steady work.
We all know the story: in order to get a job, you need experience. But in order to get experience, you
need a job. The number of young lawyers that are out of work is particularly frustrating when
juxtaposed with the fact that there is a huge need for lawyers in remote areas such as Nunavut or
northern Ontario. But these vacant positions require some work experience in order to ensure that
clients’ needs are adequately and competently addressed.

I am very lucky that I have been able to achieve my dream of being a human rights lawyer, which
was made possible through my time with the IYIP. At the same time, I feel saddened that the next
generation of law school graduates may not have the same wonderful opportunities that I had with
the IYIP. My understanding is that your department needs to decide whether it will renew funding
for the International Youth Internship Programs. The IYIP offers exactly what new university
graduates need – paid experience. It prepares them for their future career and is an important
investment in the future of young Canadians.

As such, I am respectfully asking you to ensure the continuation of the IYIP, and to engage all
relevant stakeholders in a dialogue should you wish to review the program.

Sincerely,
Gloria


  part of a report about domestic violence I helped work on while at the Legal Assistance Centre
************
Note: You can read about my experiences in Namibia here, or starting from the beginning here

Note: You can also read the letter written by my friend Joshua Lam, who is accomplishing wonderful public interest work in Alberta with Pro Bono Law Alberta and Calgary Housing & Employment Services.

suicide prevention day

Yesterday was World Suicide Prevention Day, which Nunavut celebrated as Embrace Life Day.  Communities across Nunavut held various activities to mark this important day, including Cambridge Bay, which is holding week-long events and activities to provide support to the community and raise awareness.

gathering at the community hall to open the ceremony with a prayer in Inuinnaqtun 

As many know, suicide is a particularly troubling issue that people in Nunavut struggle with.  The statistics are shocking. Last year, 27 people died by suicide in Nunavut, which is a staggering number when you consider the entire territory has a population of 34,000, that of say, Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. The suicide rate of Inuit youth is 11 times the national average and one of the highest in the world.  Some of these youths that commit suicide are as young as eleven years old.  And each of these deaths hits the communities hard.  This past year, I remember a particularly bad time when a young man committed suicide here in Cambridge Bay, shortly after a woman had been killed in a fire. The two funerals happened on the same day, and on that very day, another man also committed suicide in town.  The cause of this problem is complex, a result of many factors including poverty, mental health issues, abuse, alcoholism, colonialism, and not enough support systems in place to deal with them.  There are no quick and easy solutions, but publicly showing one's support is an important step to helping people realize they are not alone.

One of the events that Cambridge Bay held for Embrace Life day was a candlelight civil, a march that led throughout the whole town. I was pleased to see how many people showed up to participate, people of all ages marching together

 

 

  

  

a camera man taking footage of the vigil