Nunavik project uses Inuit identity to tackle addictions, mental health issues

Pigiatsiaq hunters and youth pose for a photo in an igloo the group built together outside of Puvirnituq Feb. 3. The life-skills program is largely focused around on the land activities for at-risk youth. (PHOTO BY JAMES ASINAJAQ NAPPARTUK)

Hunter leaders Bobby Aupaluk and James Asinajaq Nappartuk prepare the qamutiks before a Pigiatsiaq group heads out on the land outside Puvirnituq. (PHOTO COURTESY OF PIGIATSIAQ)

Noah Tulugak delivers food prepared by Pigiatsiaq clients to community members in Puvirnituq last month. (PHOTO COURTESY OF PIGIATSIAQ)

Laying fish nets under the ice in minus 50 C temperatures is delicate, if not dangerous work.

It requires great skill, from chiselling ice, to lacing nets, all the while keeping your hands from freezing.

And while the task might appear to have little to do with sobriety or mental health, net-setting is just one of the many activities employed by a new life skills programs offered in the Nunavik community of Puvirnituq.

Pigiatsiaq, which launched in January, targets Nunavimmiut offenders — specifically, individuals struggling with addictions and other mental health issues, who may be at risk of re-offending — by helping them build a positive Inuit identity and develop a role in the community.

As part of the program, Kulu Tukalak, a Puvirnituq hunter and Northern Village employee, leads groups of young men in their teens and twenties onto the land with his dog team, where the group casts nets to catch fish to feed the hungry dogs.

“Being sober is actually a very easy thing to do while you’re out on the land,” Tukalak said.

Although his clients may not have learned every hunting and survival skill, “it’s just very natural for them to be out there,” he said.

It’s crucial for Inuit who are trying to overcome addictions or trauma to be able to relate to their community, he said.

Tukalak spent his own teens and 20s drinking and in and out of jail. And he’s clear that whatever help exists outside the region, it doesn’t have a lasting impact on Inuit when they return home.

“The system we have in place — judicial and for addictions treatment — is not working,” he said. “I’d say more than 80 per cent come to relapse because the programs don’t relate to the North.”

Health and social workers in Puvirnituq say that just 1.7 per cent of Nunavimmiut who are treated for addictions remain sober, and that the low success rate has everything to do with the lack of follow-up treatment available in the region.

The vast majority of Nunavummiut seeking help with addictions are sent to treatment centres in southern Quebec.

While Isuarsivik offers treatment in Kuujjuaq, space is limited and the centre does not currently employ any Inuit treatment counsellors.

When asked what helped him overcome his own substance abuse, Tukalak says “responsibility;” in his case, finding steady work and raising a young family.

“It slowly helped me get back on track,” he said. “But it was also the empowerment I felt — my knowledge and experience on the land and as a hunter were starting to pay off.”

Noah Tulugak, a local hunter and a Pigiatsiaq coordinator, said he sees a vicious cycle among many young community members.

Many Inuit are going to jail because of substance abuse and addictions, he said, which are in turn related to poor self-esteem and a lack of meaningful activities.

Pigiatsiaq translates as “starting over,” he explained.

The program grew from Puvirnituq’s Uvattinut supervised apartments, eight housing units designated for at-risk Nunavimmiut, and designed by Beethoven Asante, an Inukjuak-based social worker.

Pigiatsiaq’s goal was to take support a step further, and to give community workers the freedom to develop activities that respond to the demands of Inuit culture and tradition.

Over the past couple of weeks, for example, Tulugak has been working with a group of five men to build small shacks, with support and resources from the Northern Village.

“Eventually, we’ll take [the shacks] out on the land for the village to use,” he said.

In other recent weeks, the group has spent the day clearing snow from the walkways of local homes and offices. They’ve built igloos and qamutiks or deliver fresh water to elders. As spring sets in, the group will be doing more hunting.

The people Tulugak works with are predominantly young men, teens and 20-somethings, although some older men take part.

Pigiatsiaq has developed programming for women clients too, focused on sewing and making clothing, and the development of a community kitchen.

Tulugak’s group has taken some of the food prepared in the kitchen and helped distribute it to community members.

If you ask him how his clients are benefiting, Tulugak isn’t sure how to respond.

“It’s kind of hard to answer,” he said. “We talk about all sorts of things — their problems, their past, their wrong doings. It’s socially interactive.

“It helps them to be better people and they’re not as much in danger of re-offending. And it’s a blessing to this village.”

It’s helpful for Inuit to be able to express themselves in Inuktitut, Tulugak added, which isn’t the case in southern treatment centres or detention facilities.

Since Pigiatsiaq launched in January, facilitators say they’ve worked hundreds of at-risk Inuit, from Puvirnituq and from communities along the Hudson coast.

Pigiatsiaq is operating this year with a $187,000 grant from Ungaluk, Nunavik’s crime prevention fund, via Uvatinnut and with the support of Inuulitisivk health centre

“It’s going well, but we’ll need more steady funding,” Tulugak said.

Tukalak agrees, calling for long-term support from regional organizations, so programs like Pigiatsiaq can be implemented in all of Nunavik’s 14 communities.

“It gives them hope and confidence that they can succeed,” Tukalak said.

“And when you work with teens, you can see when their spirits left. They feel like they belong.”