Exploring the power of journalism and storytelling with the Arviat Film Society.

ᐋᔩᖃᑎᒌᓐᓂᖅ – Aajiiqatigiinniq 

By Tony Eetak
Under Pijitsirniq, service becomes a way of being that includes listening deeply, showing up with humility, and shaping decisions not from authority, but from shared understanding. It teaches us that providing for one another isn’t always material—it can be the act of slowing down, gathering, and choosing the next step as a collective. In this way, care becomes structure, and every voice becomes part of the architecture.

Decision making through discussion and consensus.

Inuit Qaujimajatuqangit (IK) is the traditional knowledge and wisdom of Inuit. It’s a way of understanding the world and how we should interact with each other and the land. We’re working on building a better community for artists, especially those in the city, and each week we’re looking at a different IK value. This week it’s Pijitsirniq. It basically means serving and providing for your family and community. It’s about more than just giving things; it’s about actively caring for people and making sure they have what they need.

Pijitsirniq is actually really relevant to artists. When artists create something, they’re not just doing it for themselves. They’re sharing their gifts with the community. Whether it’s through their art, teaching others, or just supporting fellow artists, they’re contributing something valuable. It’s a way of giving back and making the community stronger. Even something as simple as sharing your work online or performing at a local event can be a form of Pijitsirniq.

If we want a strong and vibrant arts community, Pijitsirniq needs to be a priority. It’s about creating a system where artists feel supported and valued. This means providing resources, creating opportunities, and celebrating their contributions. When artists are able to thrive, the whole community benefits. It’s like a circle: when we support artists, they create amazing things, and those things enrich our lives.

This project was supported by:

Traditional values are the quiet architecture behind our lives—the steady lines that shape how we see, speak, and care for one another. They hold the weight of generations, carried not in grand declarations, but in small, intentional acts: the way we greet our elders, the stories we pass down at the table, the silence we keep in moments of reverence. In a world that moves fast and forgets easily, traditional values ask us to pause, to remember what matters. They are not rules, but rhythms—a kind of cultural heartbeat that reminds us who we are, and who we’re responsible to. Holding onto them isn’t about staying still; it’s about moving forward with depth, connection, and meaning.