Coming Together over Shared Lands and Stories

Maude Durand | October 24, 2025

In June 2025, Nunavik and Nunatsiavut Elders and leaders gathered for a cultural exchange, sharing traditions, values and land knowledge. Arctic Projects Specialist Maude Durand reflects on the event’s outcome: a renewed commitment to Inuit leadership in conservation.

Born and raised in Rigolet, Nunatsiavut, Elder Derrick Pottle has always lived a traditional Inuk lifestyle on the land, hunting and preparing animals like caribou —a key cultural and country food for Nunatsiavummiut.

Growing up, Derrick often encountered herds of caribou numbering in the thousands on his hunting trips. But in the early 2000s, he and other Inuit hunters began to notice a change. Although caribou populations still looked high, there were few young ones among them, sparking concern among his community about the herd’s ability to regenerate.

“As a hunter, we were telling the government what we were seeing,” Derrick recalls. “Nobody would listen to us.”

In 2013, after years of warnings from Inuit hunters that were largely ignored, a contentious moratorium on caribou hunting came into place following the dramatic decline of the George River herd. The failure to act sooner not only forced a ban but also brought profound cultural, social, spiritual and nutritional losses to Inuit communities that had long relied on this herd for sustenance and identity.

This story was just one of many shared at a cultural exchange between Inuit from Nunavik and Nunatsiavut last June that highlighted the importance of including Inuit voices in conservation and land management. The gathering, organized by Oceans North in partnership with local leadership, took place in Inukjuak, Nunavik and brought Elders, hunters and community leaders from Rigolet and Inukjuak together over four days of shared stories, meals and trips across the tundra.

Meaningful conversation was a highlight of the exchange, which focused on shaping a vision for Indigenous-led conservation across Inuit Nunangat and affirming the strength of Inuit leadership in environmental stewardship of Inuit homelands.

Image – Elders Lucassie Echalook and Derrick Pottle pose together in Lucassie’s living room, located just steps from Hudson’s Bay. Derrick first met Lucassie at a stone carving event in the mid-1980s. At the exchange, the pair recalled creating traditional stone art alongside each other.

Although Rigolet and Inukjuak may seem far apart on a map, the exchange participants from these communities found many family relations and common ground in the traditions, identities and practices they shared.

During their first morning together, Derrick and Elder Lucassie Echalook recognized a familiar spirit in each other—one of hunting, carving, and long-standing connection to land. Their personal histories were interwoven, too: in addition to having family in Inukjuak, Derrick first met Lucassie at a stone carving event in the mid-1980s. At the exchange, the pair recalled creating traditional stone art alongside each other, as well as with stone carvers from other Inuit regions.

Decades later, in Inukjuak, Lucassie, Derrick and the other exchange participants—Lazarusie Tukai and Johnny Kasudluak of Inukjuak—reminisced about their upbringing and shared experiences, recalling memorable hunts and travels across the land. The group reflected on the seasonal and purposeful movements of their people, recalling how Inuit from Nunavik often journey along the coast and east across the land, while Labrador Inuit head north and west in search of caribou, fish and seals.

Harvesting Is Our Identity

Given the predominance of harvesters among the group, conversations at the exchange naturally flowed towards stories of hunting trips on the land. Even though each region has its own approach of how to hunt animals, when to track them, and how to honour them, Inuit communities share core values: respect for the animal, skill passed through generations, and the important relationship between the hunter and the land.

This discussion sparked something in Lazarusie Tukai, a respected hunter from Inukjuak and Anguvigaq local representative. After lunch, he warmly invited participants to go out on the land with him the following day to look for the caribou herd that was seen just outside of town. The group eagerly agreed and spent the afternoon planning for the excursion.

Image – Elder Lucassie Echalook, Elder Derrick Pottle, Johnny Kasudluak and Oceans North Arctic Projects Director Sid Pain discuss traditional hunting techniques and best practices during the Nunavik-Nunatsiavut exchange last summer.

Kinship on the Land and in the Carving Shed

At 6:00 a.m., with the sun already high in the Arctic sky but shaded by low and dark clouds, half the group set out on ATVs for a bumpy ride across the tundra. Although there’s no official road, the path out of town was clearly well-loved by Inukjuamiut, cutting through shrubs and grass, between boulders and streams, and over the beaches of lakes.

Along the way, the party encountered animal tracks, inuksuit, and markings that reflected generations of Inuit knowledge and movement on the land, as well as the Nunavimmiut’s enduring connection to their homelands. After many hours of riding together under the expert guidance of Laz, the group finally spotted a small herd of caribou. Following the traditional practices and regulations of the area, which limit harvesting to Nunavik beneficiaries and fellow Inuit for subsistence purposes, Laz offered to harvest the caribou and share the meat. It was a meaningful gesture—an extension of kinship in response to the previous day’s heartfelt conversation.

Right then and there, on a hill overlooking a small lake, Laz and Derrick worked side-by-side to prepare the caribou, exchanging stories and techniques as they went, small jokes passed back and forth. The learning was mostly unspoken and hands-on, and the experience was deepened by their mutual respect, honouring values of reciprocity and solidarity, and customary knowledge.

Back in Inukjuak the following day, the conversation continued, but this time through the carving of stone—a treasured skill that is shared across the two regions. Lucassie welcomed Derrick and the group into his home, and they sat beside each other in a windowed living room looking out over the islands in the estuary, a few steps from the vastness of Hudson Bay. They talked about carving, shared their preferred tools, and compared the types of stone found in each region. They both acknowledged the importance of the land, the waters and the animals in finding themes to shape their stones. Derrick visited Lucassie’s carving shed, which is just big enough to host two people.

The experience on the land echoed many of the conversations that took place in town. Participants spoke about how decisions made without Inuit voices, like the caribou ban, do not just affect food security. They have an impact on people’s relationships to the land, cultural practices, and self-determination. Caribou are not just food. They are stories, tools, and teachings passed down through time.

Image – During the exchange, Lucassie and Derrick connected over their shared love for carving. Within the walls of Lucassie’s carving shed, they talked about their carving work, their preferred tools, and compared the types of stone found in each other their home regions.

Looking Ahead

The ability to share experiences openly and authentically was a priority for us in organizing this exchange. Johnny Kasudluak, the coordinator for the Arviliit Indigenous Protected and Conserved Area (IPCA) in Inukjuak, played a key role in this. As an interpreter and community expert, he ensured that Elders could share their experiences in their own language and that their messages were clearly heard.

Community leaders from both regions spoke about how Inuit knowledge is too often treated as supplementary to science, instead of being recognized as foundational. They called for decision-making processes that honour Inuit values, timelines, and teachings.

Community-led conservation efforts like Indigenous Protected and Conserved Areas (IPCAs) offer a way forward by prioritizing Inuit knowledge and governance, centering local voices and allowing communities to manage their own lands and waters. IPCAs, like the proposed Inuit Protected Areas in Arviliit (Nunavik) and in the Torngat Area of Interest (Nunatsiavut), reflect a shift toward Inuit-led governance. They affirm that land and marine stewardship is not only about the environment, but also about culture, rights, and continuity.

What stood out most to those in attendance was the recognition that many of the participants’ experiences—of change, of resilience, of knowledge—are not isolated. They are shared across Inuit Nunangat.

In addition, the exchange affirmed something deeply felt and often repeated: that solidarity between regions is essential to move forward for all Inuit. These connections form a growing fabric of unity that strengthens Inuit voices in conservation, governance, and community well-being.

At Oceans North, we aim for future gatherings to be built on this model: rooted in land, led by community, and grounded in Inuit and local values. The exchange in Inukjuak reminded everyone present that Inuit knowledge does not belong in the margins of decision-making. It belongs at the centre.