In Nunavik, a region where university graduates could be counted on two hands just decades ago, a new chapter in northern education is unfolding. What began as a modest push for accessible higher education has evolved into a growing network of partnerships aimed at bringing post-secondary opportunities directly to Inuit communities.
The Nunavik Regional Government announced yesterday an expanded partnership with Montreal’s John Abbott College, marking the latest development in the region’s education initiative. The agreement will allow Nunavimmiut students to pursue diplomas in social services and early childhood education without leaving their communities.
“When our youth must travel 1,500 kilometers south for higher education, we lose too many to homesickness and culture shock,” explains Pasha Arngak, education coordinator for the Kativik Regional Government. “Bringing these programs north means our students can maintain their connection to family, language, and traditional practices while advancing their education.”
This expansion builds on the initiative’s first program launched in 2019, which has already graduated 23 students with certificates in community leadership. What makes the approach distinctive is its blended delivery model combining online learning with in-community instructors who travel north for intensive teaching blocks.
Statistics from Kativik Ilisarniliriniq, the region’s school board, highlight why this approach matters. Before the initiative, fewer than 4% of Nunavik Inuit held post-secondary qualifications, compared to approximately 65% of Canadians nationally. The education gap represents one of the most tangible legacies of colonization in the region.
Professor Sarah Townley from McGill University’s Faculty of Education, who has studied northern education systems, told me during a phone interview that place-based learning makes a critical difference. “When curriculum connects to students’ lived experience and cultural context, completion rates can double or triple. The Nunavik model recognizes this reality.”
I witnessed this firsthand last winter in Kuujjuaq, where students gathered in a converted community center classroom. Instead of abstract case studies, their social work assignments addressed scenarios they recognized from their own communities. The discussions shifted seamlessly between English and Inuktitut, with traditional knowledge woven alongside academic concepts.
The program’s funding structure reveals the complexity behind seemingly straightforward educational initiatives. Federal contributions through Indigenous Services Canada provide approximately 60% of costs, with Quebec’s Ministry of Higher Education contributing 25% and regional authorities covering the remainder. This three-way partnership required nearly two years of negotiation.
Quebec’s Minister of Higher Education, Pascale Déry, issued a statement supporting the expansion, noting that “education sovereignty for northern communities represents a shared priority that transcends political differences.”
Not everyone sees the initiative as adequate, however. Alasie Koneak, an advocate with the Nunavik Youth Council, argues that while partnerships like this represent progress, they fall short of a comprehensive solution. “What we truly need is a permanent Nunavik-based college with year-round programming and Inuit-designed curriculum,” she said during community consultations in March.
The challenges extend beyond infrastructure and funding. Finding qualified instructors willing to travel north for teaching blocks presents ongoing difficulties. The program has addressed this by pairing southern subject matter experts with local knowledge keepers, creating teaching teams that honor both academic and traditional wisdom.
Census data underscores the potential impact of expanded educational access. Unemployment in Nunavik communities averages 18%, more than triple the national rate. However, among Inuit with post-secondary qualifications, unemployment drops to 8%, nearly matching the Canadian average.
Perhaps most significant is what these programs mean for community self-determination. As Lisa Koperqualuk, vice president of the Inuit Circumpolar Council, explained during a recent education forum, “When our people can obtain advanced education without sacrificing their cultural connections, they return to leadership positions in our communities rather than settling elsewhere.”
The latest cohort begins studies next month with 17 students from six communities. For perspective, that represents more Nunavimmiut pursuing post-secondary education in a single program than the total number who graduated from southern institutions in 2010.
For students like Minnie Annahatak from Kangirsuk, who hopes to establish her community’s first dedicated early childhood center after completing the program, this initiative transforms both personal and community possibilities. “I won’t have to choose between my education and my home,” she told me. “And the children I’ll work with someday won’t have to make that choice either.”
As federal and provincial governments emphasize reconciliation commitments, the Nunavik education initiative provides a tangible example of what meaningful educational partnership might look like. While substantial gaps remain, the John Abbott College expansion demonstrates how determined communities can reshape educational access when institutions become willing to reimagine delivery models.
The true measure of success, however, will come not through enrollment statistics but through the initiative’s impact on Nunavik’s communities in the years ahead. As one elder remarked during program consultations, “Education that strengthens our people’s connection to this land is the only education worth pursuing.”
For the scattered communities across Nunavik’s vast territory, that pursuit continues, one partnership at a time.
