“Our stories have to come from us, ourselves,” Inuk artist and teacher Naullaq Arnaquq said Friday at the Isaruit Inuit Arts creators conference in Ottawa.

Held at the Rideau Community Club in Ottawa’s Vanier neighbourhood last week, the conference gave Inuit artists and enthusiasts an opportunity to discuss Inuit art, culture and storytelling.

In her wide-ranging discussion on sewing, culture and artistic ownership, Arnaquq discussed her childhood growing up in Frobisher Bay, now Iqaluit, to relate the importance of Inuit reclaiming and relearning their culture.

She showed an amauti, a traditional women’s parka, given to her by her mother: “Her last gift to me,” she said.

“We [Inuit] create with our hands. We create our own stories.”

As Arnaquq, who now lives in Ottawa, described the material and the pieces of the garment which resembled coins from the 1800s hanging among beads and fringe on the front, she talked about her family and the integral role stories played in her upbringing.

People talk about Inuit traditional ways and culture, she said, “But for us, it was just living.”

Oral sharing of knowledge and stories among Inuit was different than people assume, she said. It wasn’t like a game of telephone, where the story changes in the retelling. There were specific rules around recounting what happened.

In relating a story, she said, the events had to be true, it should come from the person who experienced it, it should be retold exactly as heard. In the event the storyteller had forgotten some details, the teller should provide a source with a clearer memory of the story or events.

Arnaquq compared that sort of sourcing to academic citations, where sources are listed in a bibliography.

She also spoke against generalizing a story.

“Generalization happens when you don’t know the full story,” she said.

She noted that over time, some traditions have been nearly forgotten. Some, like the traditional way to make a kayak, are being relearned now.

Arnaquq said her mother didn’t teach her how to make an amauti in one day. It was day after day, month after month of teaching, adding technique and processes one piece at a time, repeated until it became second nature to her.

For a long time, she said, she saw Inuit culture, language and knowledge fading. It was like looking through a window at something far off on the horizon. You could see it, but not really know it.

At times, it was more like a painting and didn’t exist at all except in the rendering.

“It has to be living,” she said.