“What do I want?”
It’s a question I return to often. Career wise, life wise. It felt fitting that when the lines blurred between Anna and Siaja while filming North of North, this was the major question we were both facing.
North of North is by far the hardest project I have worked on. Shooting in temperatures sitting below -50 degrees celsius, hoping we don’t have to shoot another Saturday because for the third week in a row we lost a shoot day to a blizzard. On the days where there doesn’t seem to be enough hours, or enough hot shots to bring feeling back to my feet, the self-preserving part of my brain can’t help but wonder what the hell we’re doing. It’s film and television, we’re not saving lives, why are we risking frostbite for a tv show?
And then when feeling returns to my feet, going from numbness to a dull, painful tingle, the “why” reappears: the impact. Which is a word that gets thrown around a lot, usually in the company of other grandiose descriptors like empowering, inspiring – words I have also used in reference to the show – but have been widely co-opted as commercial and corporate buzzwords, selling the idea of impact on a community when the only real change is made in a company’s quarterly earnings.
“…part of my brain can’t help but wonder what the hell we’re doing.”
But North of North has truly had an impact – far beyond showing Indigenous people still exist (and we’re not that different from everyone else), beyond bringing laughter to people facing hard times – the impact is tangible.
Working in film and television and being part of a small community outside of what is considered mainstream – mainstream being largely white, usually city or city adjacent folks, whose stories are considered the norm or typical or universal – you quickly become accustomed to the response around every new project released being a “feat of representation”. That this sudden global awareness of your culture is the impact, and then with that comes the expectation you educate the masses on your community, explaining your humanity and justifying why your community has the right to exist – trying to get across the “we’re not so different, you and I” of it all.
“This is us, accept it or turn off the tv.”
The beautiful thing about North of North that makes it so unique is that our community, our experience as Inuit living in the Arctic, just is. We are not justifying our humanity. We do explain cultural differences, we do some world building to hold people’s hands through the culture shock they experience walking through the first episode, and then we leave it at that. This is us, accept it or turn off the tv. It’s a show made by Inuit women from the North, about Inuit in the North, for Inuit. Our lives are not a spectacle – they’re messy and silly and human, just like everyone else. Only when you see it on screen that simple, that unapologetic, do you realize how rare it is.
That simplicity, the focus on the lives of these characters and not the performance of culture or the pursuit of representation in media, but on humanness, is the heart of the show and the engine behind its impact. Siaja’s arc in North of North is an 8 episode journey of figuring out what she wants and who she is. Outside of her marriage, outside of being a mother, outside of being a community member, who is she? What does it mean to dream big? Is it selfish? Is it Inuk? There are strong beliefs about modesty in Inuit culture – about being humble, observant, working as a collective, not taking up too much space. A belief that, if you ask me, is far more heavily enforced on our women to uphold, but that is another think-piece I don’t feel like being dragged on Facebook for.
8 episodes condensed into a couple sentences, Siaja finds that choosing herself means she can show up better for her community than if she had sacrificed her happiness for the happiness of others. That leaving the awful marriage, learning to love her mom with boundaries, pursuing a job that gives her purpose, gives her the capacity to be a better mom, a better friend, and a better community member. It’s not selfish – it’s an act of love, even, to make difficult decisions that allow you to raise everyone up with you.
“It’s not selfish – it’s an act of love…”
I knew this part of Siaja’s arc would resonate with others, it resonated deeply with me, but hearing the response to Siaja’s journey in the year after the show’s release has left me at a loss for words. Whether told to me directly, or through status updates I have read on Facebook, or people telling my family, I have heard that Siaja choosing herself has encouraged other Inuit to choose themselves, too. I have been told several times that Siaja leaving Ting empowered women to leave their unhealthy relationships, and Siaja’s career ambitions inspired others to go back to school or apply for jobs they were afraid to previously. This is the real impact – the show has inspired courage: seeing people like you, living a life similar to yours, who understand intimately the fear of your community’s judgement, telling you it’s okay to take that risk, you will be okay, and your community will catch you if you fall. There’s a sense of hope that is different from just believing the future is bright – but that the future will be brighter if you contribute to it.
I truly believe this impact does not stop with individually encouraging Inuit to choose their futures, but that these choices will compound, adding up to changes across Nunavut, maybe even Inuit Nunaat (Inuit lands, through Russia, Alaska, Canada, and Greenland). That the young woman who leaves the unhealthy relationship goes on to pursue what she loves, that the Inuk who feels inspired to get their education becomes one of our next leaders, that the young person who takes risks in applying for the job becomes the next changemaker in their community.
“…this show has shown that the pursuit of change can be rooted in joy and love.”
In a territory facing various serious social inequities in relation to the rest of Canada – from the housing crisis, the suicide crisis, high rate of addictions with little to no support resources, the list goes on – this show has shown that the pursuit of change can be rooted in joy and love. That loving your community can be the driving force, and that extending that love to yourself is not only beneficial, it’s necessary. That choosing your community and choosing yourself do not have to be mutually exclusive.
I often say North of North is not just a show. It has become so much bigger than any of us involved. Bigger than our cast and crew, bigger than our show creators Stacey and Alethea, bigger than our networks and streamers and their global reach, because it is a show that has become real. It is a show that has inspired tangible change, that has earned the descriptors of impactful, empowering, inspiring.
These days when I think about the question “what do I want?”, both as Anna and as Siaja, I think we have always wanted the same thing: to do something that means something to someone. To share all the love we have with our communities, while still saving some for ourselves. To do something that brings about change, however big or small. Without sounding too self important, holding Inuit humility close to my heart, I think I can say we’ve accomplished a bit of that.
Cover photo: Anna Lambe; Photography: “Mollie Pie” Klavdiya Finogina; Photography Assistant: Eric Tam; Styling: Akash Chowdhury; Hair and makeup: Alison Sharp
North of North is co-produced by CBC and Netflix in partnership with APTN and is produced by Red Marrow Media and Northwood Entertainment. New episodes of North of North Season 2 are available to stream in Canada on CBC Gem and APTN+.