An exercise in empathy: Nunavik workshop illustrates Indigenous trauma

“This is so you know how it feels”

By SARAH ROGERS

Kuujjuaq participants to the Blanket Exercise each stand on a blanket, which represents different Indigenous groups or nations. As colonization takes place, their blankets become smaller and certain participants are removed, to signify relocation and death. (PHOTO BY SARAH ROGERS)


Kuujjuaq participants to the Blanket Exercise each stand on a blanket, which represents different Indigenous groups or nations. As colonization takes place, their blankets become smaller and certain participants are removed, to signify relocation and death. (PHOTO BY SARAH ROGERS)

The workshop is led by two volunteers, Olivia Ikey Duncan, left and Rebeka Migneault, who are hosting the blanket exercise in Kuujjuaq Sept. 18, 25 and Oct. 2. (PHOTO BY SARAH ROGERS)


The workshop is led by two volunteers, Olivia Ikey Duncan, left and Rebeka Migneault, who are hosting the blanket exercise in Kuujjuaq Sept. 18, 25 and Oct. 2. (PHOTO BY SARAH ROGERS)

Residents of Kuujjuaq take part in the blanket exercise Sept. 11 in Kuujjuaq, a teaching tool to create empathy and understanding of the contemporary history of Canada’s Indigenous peoples. About 50 participants end the workshop with a sharing circle and a hug. (PHOTO BY SARAH ROGERS)


Residents of Kuujjuaq take part in the blanket exercise Sept. 11 in Kuujjuaq, a teaching tool to create empathy and understanding of the contemporary history of Canada’s Indigenous peoples. About 50 participants end the workshop with a sharing circle and a hug. (PHOTO BY SARAH ROGERS)

KUUJJUAQ—Imagine a sea of blankets lying spread out across the floor, all connected like quilt patchwork.

The blankets represent Indigenous nations and communities in what is now known as Canada. About 50 participants who show up to Kuujjuaq’s Jaanimmarik school Sept. 11 take a spot on those blankets, each of them representing Indigenous peoples, pre-contact.

As European explorers arrive and settlers move into the picture, Indigenous people start to move out of the scene. The blankets get rolled up and folded over.

Many of the Indigenous players are removed from the stage; some through relocation, others due to death from disease or starvation.

Gradually, the stage turns into tiny islands of crumpled blankets, where participants fear they’ll be the next called out.

This is an exercise in empathy, leading participants through the contemporary and far too often traumatic history of Indigenous peoples in Canada.

“Do you remember what it looked like at first, compared to now?” said workshop facilitator Olivia Ikey Duncan, pointing to the piles of isolated blankets, and outcast participants.

Ikey Duncan, a Kuujjuaq-based youth advocate and her colleague, Rebeka Migneault, decided to launch a series of workshops called Inuit History 101—the blanket exercise is just one over a six-week period. The pair volunteer their own time and run the workshops with no funding.

The participants this particular week are a mix of Inuit and non-Inuit; the majority of them women and many of them front-line workers in the Nunavik community.

“We’re not giving you statistics here. This is so you know how it feels,” Ikey Duncan said.

“When you see Inuit today who are in pain, it’s from generations of [trauma]. This is so we can create new relationships, positive relationships.”

The blanket exercise ends somewhere in the late 2000s, highlighting the federal government’s apology to residential school survivors, the creation of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and with a nod to a growing movement of Indigenous activism in Canada.

Then participants sit in a large circle to share their observations, personal experiences and hopes moving forward.

It’s also where the tears start to flow, as a Kleenex box slides across the gymnasium floor en route to the next speaker in need.

Shame is a common expression from this circle; from Inuit who said they grew up feeling embarrassed of the social ills their communities face, and from non-Indigenous who feel a nagging guilt over their ancestors’ policies and actions towards Indigenous groups.

Lavinia Flaherty shares the story of her family, which was relocated from Inukjuak in the 1950s to settle the country’s most northerly community, Grise Fiord.

Although Flaherty wasn’t alive during the relocation, she’s lived the grief and hardship that it brought. She recently moved from Nunavut to her family’s native Nunavik, where she now works at Kuujjuaq’s women’s shelter.

“I don’t want people to think we’re victims, because we’re not,” Flaherty said. “We’re not meant to be hurting for the rest of our lives.

“But a lot of people here are front-line workers. And this is important, for them to know what our people went through, so they know how to help them.”

As a non-Inuk, workshop co-facilitator Rebeka Migneault said she’s struggled to find her place in the Inuit community during the many years she’s called Kuujjuaq home.

Working in employment support for Inuit youth, and learning more about the decolonization movement sparked her interest in reconciliation.

“That’s when I really felt shame, thinking about the impact of what my ancestors did to Indigenous peoples,” Migneault said. “And that’s where I decided I needed to break that cycle.”

Ikey Duncan and Migneault will host their next workshop Sept. 18 at the Katittavik hall at 2:00 p.m, beginning with a screening of the film Martha of the North and a discussion about the relocation of Inuit communities.

You can contact either facilitator for more details at rebeka.migneault@gmail.com or uliviaaiki@gmail.com.

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