Uplaakut.
Good morning. My name is Jaelyn Jarrett. I'm originally from a small Inuk community in northern Labrador called Nain, Nunatsiavut. In the early part of my life, I got the opportunity to be raised by my anaanatsiaq and my ataatatsiaq, my grandmother and my grandfather. They showed me my traditional way of life, how to live off the land, and my language. Those are values that I have carried with me every day throughout my 21 years. These were the best times of my life.
However, I've also been in foster care. I've been adopted; I have suffered from isolation in the cities and lost my language. I've had a grandparent who attended residential school, and I've dealt with the deep-rooted trauma that has come with that. I've also suffered from depression.
I'm still here, and I'm still breathing and, while it hasn't been easy, I'm very thankful for that. However, many of our Inuit youth are not actually able to say the same, and some of them aren't with us today. A few days ago, I was going through some of my childhood memorabilia, and I found a little kindergarten graduation cap. When I looked at the names inside the cap, I realized that a lot of the kids I had grown up with aren't with us today because they've taken their own lives. As I continued to look through my pictures and my memorabilia, I noticed that, as I have gotten older, I would put RIP next to some of the people I had lost.
While my story may seem kind of like an outlier compared to the rest of Canada, it's not. Unfortunately, it's probably very familiar to many Inuit. Whether it's losing family, relatives and friends to suicide, or whether it's being in the foster care system and suffering from isolation or suffering from loss of identity, it's very familiar, and I'm sure that what I'm saying can resonate with many Inuit.