Baking is a sacred ritual, one that requires simple ingredients: water, salt, yeast, and flour. But there is another ingredient that is just as necessary: time. The time for seeds to be planted, for wheat stalks to grow tall and turn from green to golden brown, the time for threshing, for cleaning, for milling, for mixing, for kneading. Time for dough to ferment and rise. Time for dough to be rolled thin for tortillas. The story of White Sonora wheat is one of time, patience, and listening to the land.
The history of White Sonora wheat in the Sonoran desert begins with the people who brought it here and the people who grew it. In the seventeenth century, Spanish and Italian missionaries brought White Sonora’s precursor, a candeal soft white wheat, to the desert. By 1640, Opata and Lowland Pima Indian farmers were growing the wheat near Tuape, Sonora. When Father Eusebio Francisco Kino arrived in Sonora in 1687, he brought the now well-established crop northward. Among the many crops the missionaries brought, White Sonora endured because it was drought-and disease-resistant, thriving in the arid Sonoran landscape.
Maribel Alvarez, an anthropologist at the University of Arizona’s Southwest Center, has written extensively on White Sonora wheat. She found a reference to the grain in one of Father Kino’s journal entries from 1710 where he discusses bringing the grain to Pima and Yuma Indians: “I sent … grain and seed which had never been seen or known there, to see if it would yield as well as in those other fertile new lands; and it did yield and does yield very well.”
Ethnobotanist Amadeo Rea says the introduction of wheat “completely altered the life of the Pimans. Before they had this winter crop, the Tohono O’odham were entirely dependent on the summer rains for agriculture, [and] could raise but a single crop a year—if everything went right.” White Sonora meant that Pima and Tohono O’odham now had a viable winter crop to sustain their communities. Dams were built of mesquite branches to direct water and nutrient-rich silt to fields and wheat was harvested using sickles. Threshing was done with horses or mules on circular threshing floors called eras in Spanish, and the cleaned wheat was made into flour on volcanic grindingstones called taunas.
The Pima—along with Yaquis, Maricopas, Yumas, and Hispanics—adopted White Sonora wheat into their cuisine, making posole (poshol in Piman)—wheat berries soaked, cooked, and mixed with tepary beans—and huge flatbreads known as tortillas de las aguas (che’chemait in Piman). The White Sonora wheat was ideal because of the protein content that allowed dough to stretch very thin.
Over time, Alvarez says wheat “became integrated into the social fabric of communities that grew it, harvested it and consumed it.” In public art, in home décor, in religious festivals and cuisine, she says, Sonorans began to incorporate wheat as an indelible part of life.
For more than three centuries, White Sonora was one of the principal crops grown in the Sonoran desert. As industrialization of farming took root following World War II, cereal scientists and grain breeders began to think about how to stabilize and secure staple crops like wheat. Combining wheat bred to be high-yield and fertilizer-responsive with artificial fertilizers, pesticides, and irrigation systems, farmers in arid climates were no longer dependent on drought-resistant grains. Farmers planted seed from short breeds to avoid rot and mold caused by stalks toppling from wind and rain.
While these changes helped farmers increase yields, something was lost. We lost diversity in the grains we consume. We lost our connection to eating what was adapted to grow in our local ground. We lost our connection to the earth.
Conservation scientist Gary Paul Nabhan, the co-founder of Native Seeds/SEARCH, first spotted some of the last remnants of White Sonora wheat when he worked with farmers in northern Mexico in 1976. By the 1980s, no one was growing White Sonora wheat in the larger valleys of Arizona or Sonora, says Nabhan. The Nobel Prize-winning plant breeder Norman Borlaug had developed one of the first Green Revolution wheat varieties, Sonora 64—a semidwarf, high-yield, disease-resistant variety—purportedly using White Sonora as breeding material. In addition to the advent of commercial farming, Nabhan attributes the demise of White Sonora to a series of droughts and freezes, as well as a generation of farmers dying out, and with them, the knowledge and infrastructure required for traditional wheat farming. According to Jeff Zimmerman of Hayden Flour Mills in Phoenix, there were 44 mills established in Arizona Territory between 1865 and 1912. Today, there are only two.
In 2012, a coalition of local organizations was awarded a $50,000 USDA Western Sustainable Agriculture Research and Education (SARE) grant to bring White Sonora soft wheat and chapalote flint corn back into the local food chain.
“There’s a lightbulb that goes off. Oh my gosh, this is what bread should taste like.”
People were drawn to the grain for many reasons. For Native Seeds/SEARCH, bringing back White Sonora was aligned with its mission of preserving heritage seeds. Research and education program manager Joy Hought says, “For us, it’s about climate change and bringing back crops that don’t abuse or overuse our natural resource.” Grants and special project manager Chris Schmidt adds, “Twenty to 30 years from now, these crops are going to be more important than ever. We need to work to preserve genetics and build the infrastructure for production now.”
In addition to the SARE grant, Glenn Roberts, founder of Anson Mills in South Carolina, donated 5,600 pounds of White Sonora wheat seed over a three-year period so farmers wouldn’t have to face the expense of seed in addition to more labor and less yield.
While a variety of heirloom crops have been growing in popularity over the years, extra enthusiasm and effort was needed to bring back heirloom grains. “Harvesting wheat involves complicated and technical processes,” says Hought. “It’s not the same as other crops where you can just pluck the apple off the tree and get it to the consumer. You have to get the grain at the right time. You have to thresh and clean it. Jeff Zimmerman has spent the last few years learning how to mill it; it’s a craft.”
Jeff Zimmerman grew up in North Dakota on a wheat farm; as the farm changed hands from his grandfather to his father, and now to his cousin, he witnessed the industrialization of the farm. A manager at an insurance company by day, Zimmerman has always prioritized food; so has his wife, a nutritionist, and their five children. Years ago, Zimmerman developed a passion for bread baking. But he found that even when he took the time to make bread from scratch, he was dissatisfied with the end result: “It tasted empty,” he says.
Zimmerman began milling his own flour and became inspired to restart the well-known Phoenix-based Hayden Flour Mills, a mill that had closed in 1998 after a 15-year decline. That dream kicked into high gear after the 2010 Farmer+Chef Connection, where Jeff met Marco Bianco, baker for Pane Bianco and brother of Chris Bianco, restaurateur and James Beard award-winning chef.
At his famous Pizzeria Bianco, Chris is committed to using the freshest ingredients and sourcing them locally; for years, he had been looking for a way to access locally grown and milled grain. Emma Zimmerman, Jeff’s second eldest and his business partner, had two degrees in bioengineering and was pursuing a Ph.D. in bioethics when she returned home to help her father with his passion project.
“I don’t know if Chris and Marco thought that we were serious, that we were really going to do it,” says Emma, laughing. They were. Jeff Zimmerman ordered a stone mill from Austria and soon it was installed at the back of Pane Bianco.
Although it was a tight fit, being housed in the kitchen of Pane Bianco had its perks. Marco Bianco could immediately experiment with the freshly milled flour and offer feedback.
“If you work in a marble quarry, you don’t necessarily see the statues. But if you are a miller and you’re working next to my brother every day, it’s a pretty interesting relationship when you are working, vetting things out. How was the hydration of it? Was the protein too high or low? So that dialogue became beneficial,” Chris says.
Bringing back White Sonora involved bringing back infrastructure for smaller crops—from farming and harvesting, to cleaning and milling—that no longer existed. At first, the Zimmermans were ordering the freshest grain they could find from out of state, but when Nabhan approached them about heritage grains, they immediately came on board. The first farmers they approached did not.
Emma explains. “The whole reason industrialized farming works is they have bred these grains to be high yielding; they’re very short and dense. You plant an acre and you’ll get 5,000 pounds. You go back to heritage and you get 2,000 pounds.”
But when the Zimmermans approached an old family friend, Steve Sossaman of Sossaman Farms, he agreed to grow their first crop of 10 acres of White Sonora in 2011 as a personal favor. But that first season made growing heritage grains a passion for him as well, Emma says; he recently renovated his old pole barn into a milling space complete with a tasting room.
Hayden Flour Mills is now working with five farmers growing 20 varieties of heritage grains. In 2014, they grew 300 acres of grain. With 200 wholesale customers nationally, Hayden Flour Mills can barely keep up with demand. Tucsonans can pick up their flour at Whole Foods, Native Seeds /SEARCH, Time Market, and at some farmers’ markets, or taste it in local restaurants like Zona 78, Gallery of Food, Canyon Ranch, Agustín Kitchen, Proper, Food for Ascension, and Pizzeria Bianco.
In 2014, Hayden Flour Mills was one of nine companies to win Martha Stewart’s American Made contest, showcasing American companies doing innovative work. The award included a $10,000 prize, a trip to New York, and a spread in Martha Stewart Living.
“People just seem to react to eating Marco’s bread, or eating a really good bread,” Emma says. “There’s a lightbulb that goes off. Oh my gosh, this is what bread should taste like. Even me, starting out, I didn’t think about flour. It’s just powder in a bag. You don’t think about where it comes from. All of a sudden, you think: Why does this taste so good and what is it made of? And you realize, Oh, this is rye or barley; there’s all this amazing diversity behind it. I think it goes back to people tasting the food that is made with these really good ingredients.”
At $10 to $12 for a one and a half pound bag, Hayden’s flour is two to three times as expensive as conventional all-purpose flour. “This used to be something I apologized for,” Emma says. “But now, I say: Isn’t it amazing that you now get this grain that didn’t even exist in this region five years ago at your Whole Foods? You treat it differently. This is the true cost of flour. We are so out of touch with what food costs.”
Hayden Flour Mills offers educational discounts to schools to make their flour more accessible, and they hope that over time, as heritage grains grow in popularity and infrastructure is established, heritage flour will be available to everyone.
Riding down a road in Marana, past the mid-century steel silos that signal arrival at BKW Farms, fourth-generation farmer Brian Wong points outside his window to the small field that has just been furrowed up, brown dirt piled alongside shallow ditches waiting for seeds to be planted. This was the very field BKW used to grow its first round of organic White Sonora wheat three years ago.
BKW just celebrated its 75th anniversary but this was its first venture into organic farming and the first time it had grown heritage grains since the Green Revolution. BKW’s main crops are cotton and durum; the wheat is exported in its entirety to Spain. Not a part of the SARE grant, BKW Farms became involved after farmers Ron Wong and Karen Dotson attended the Native Seeds/SEARCH grain school and learned about heritage grains such as White Sonora wheat. They realized that more and more local restaurateurs, brewers, and bakers were becoming interested in local heritage grains, which gave them an opportunity to grow crops that would stay in the local foodshed.
In 2012, they obtained 1,800 pounds of White Sonora seed from Native Seeds/SEARCH’s inventory and planted their first crop of certified organic White Sonora on 15 acres. For their conventionally grown wheat, they typically get 7,000 pounds an acre. With ideal weather that initial growing season, their first harvest yielded a total of 40,500 pounds, or 2,700 pounds per acre. Inside their climate-controlled storage room are the fruits of their harvest: huge white totes holding tons of the small tan berries. Because of their high yield, they were able to donate double the amount they borrowed back to the seed bank.
This year, they will plant two new heritage grains: organic Red Spring and organic Durum White. (They’re also growing barley to be made into beer by local breweries.)
“We know how to grow things,” Wong says. “The biggest problem is not growing but the selling and making sure people want what we are growing.”
At Ramona Farms, Ramona and Terry Button are growing White Sonora wheat not only because of its growing market, but also because of its history. When Schmidt asked the couple to help bring back heritage grains by cleaning White Sonora wheat and Pima Club seed, and growing half of it, they immediately agreed. They planted 15 acres and returned double their yield.
Growing White Sonora wheat fit with Ramona Farms’ commitment to honoring traditional farming done by the Pima Indians. Today, Ramona and her daughter Velvet do outreach on the reservation and teach the importance of reintroducing native crops into modern diets, hoping to instill pride in young people for what their ancestors did to develop agriculture in Arizona.
Terry credits the work of organizations like Native Seeds/SEARCH and individuals like Nabhan and Rea for providing a market for place-based heritage grains. “Health-conscious people are wanting to improve their diets. Native foods are being introduced to high-end restaurants,” he says. “It’s gratifying for us because we think maybe there will be a market. Without a market, we can’t preserve seeds just with seed banks. Seeds have an expiration date. They have to be replotted and grown back and that seed stock needs to be replenished. If we do have a market, we can save these crops. Indian corns, tepary beans, heritage grains—they contain survival qualities we need. If we can preserve diversity in seed stock that have other traits, we could avert famine in the future.”
A soft wheat, White Sonora, when ground, crumbles. The density of the flour makes it challenging when used on its own for bread, which requires more elasticity, but White Sonora is perfect for pastas and pastries. The taste is hearty, fresh, of the earth. Marco Bianco bakes with White Sonora for cookies, biscotti, and tarts. Barrio Bread’s Don Guerra uses 12 percent of the grain in his baguette mix because the soft flour adds contrast to the harder varieties he uses.
In Marco’s kitchen, loaves made of Red Fife and soft wheat are set aside to proof while other oval loaves in the oven have begun to develop a dark brown crust. A historian in the guise of a baker, he knows not only every property of White Sonora wheat but also every detail of its history in the history of farming and milling in Arizona.
Marco likens modern all-purpose flour to having one kind of red wine. While all-purpose flour has good baking properties, bakers have no idea what kinds of grain are being used. “The thing we eat the most, we know the least about,” he says.
He now works with 12 varietals for the assortment of bread, tarts, and pastries he makes for the Bianco restaurants. “If you were growing your own wheat and making bread every day you would start to know the tendencies of that varietal. We lost that. We’re starting to get it back now,” he says.
Bringing back local heritage grains farmed without the use of chemicals in growing or baking may allow for more people to have access to wheat. Marco says, “It’s really in the last 10 to 12 years that there’s been an explosion of people with gluten problems. When the bread is allowed to have a long fermentation, it breaks down the gluten so it is more digestible. In commercial baking, components are added to the bread to mimic the natural fermentation process but do it in less time. Commercial bakers making 10,000 loaves a day want bread to be done in three and half hours, start to finish. It takes 18 to 24 hours for one of my breads.”
And, he says, “If you look at the back of the bread label, there are 25 ingredients you can’t pronounce,” Marco says. “My bread has four ingredients: a sourdough starter made from wild yeast, water, flour, salt.”
No research exists that proves products made with heritage grains are better nutritionally or digestively. Joy Hought says, “There are too many variables: breeding, growing, processing baking.” But anecdotally, the feedback has been overwhelmingly positive. “People with nonceliac gluten sensitivity who buy our flour to go home and bake with, come back and tell us they didn’t have the reactions they typically have,” Emma Zimmerman says.
Some argue that it is conventional farming techniques rather than fast-track baking that leads to potential allergic reactions in consumers. “My dad had a list of best practices for conventional farming methods for wheat,” Emma says. “It lists 30 chemicals that you spray on that crop. The last one is spraying Roundup so it all dries up uniformly. That [ends up] in the wheat head.”
No one involved in the process of bringing back White Sonora wheat to the local foodshed will take credit. Conversations are filled with effusive storytelling about the others involved. Emma Zimmerman credits the Biancos for making space for their mill. Marco Bianco says Jeff Zimmerman was the spark that got the whole thing going. Chris Bianco praises Glenn Roberts for donating the initial seeds and Gary Nabhan and Chris Schmidt for connecting folks around the SARE grant, which provided much needed money and infrastructure to get the project going. BKW expressed gratitude for the bakers and local brewers, who have been vital in communicating both their support and what they need in their grains.
But everyone is excited about the success of bringing back White Sonora wheat, not only because of its value to our palate and our pantry, but also because in doing so, they have developed a model for bringing back other wheat varieties.
In our modern world, urgency is a part of daily life. We are always on our way somewhere, always checking our devices. We don’t sit still; we don’t have much patience. In a culture in which humans have often attempted to control the land rather than listen to it—where time is commodified rather than respected and honored—returning these heritage grains is a radical act.
“A broken tradition is now revived,” Nabhan says. “We affirmed White Sonora’s value in the very place where Norman Bourlaug won a Nobel Prize for breeding high-yield wheat. It reminds us these things aren’t obsolete.”
Chris Bianco says that everything is about communication and connection. “We’re in the relationship business. We are in relationship with each other, our consumers, our environment,” he says. “I’m just a little raindrop. For this thing to work it’s going to take a big puddle, a pond, and an ocean of change. We are all a part of change.” ✜
Hayden Flour Mills. 480.557.0031. HaydenFlourMills.com.
Native Seeds/SEARCH. 3061 N. Campbell Ave. 520.622.5561. NativeSeeds.org.
BKW Farms. Info@bkwazgrown.com. BKWAZGrown.com.
Ramona Farms. Arizona 87. 520.418.3642. RamonaFarms.com.
Pane Bianco. 4404 N. Central Ave. 602.234.2100. PizzeriaBianco.com.
Lisa O’Neill originally hails from New Orleans but has made her second home in the desert, where she writes and teaches writing. Find her online at The Dictionary Project or at lisamoneill.com.


1. Yoseph’s Promise; Yoseph visits Yaakov on his deathbed. Yaakov, then 147 years old and near death, sent for Yoseph and made him promise that he would bury him in Canaan (the resting place of his fathers), rather than in Egypt. Sometime later, Yoseph was informed that Yaakov was ill and went, along with his sons Ephrayim and Menasheh, to visit him.
2. Yaakov blesses Ephrayim and Menasheh. Yaakov told Yoseph that Ephrayim and Menasheh would be counted among Yaakov’s own sons and would each head a Tribe. Yaakov kissed, hugged and brought close to bless Ephrayim and Menasheh, placing his right hand on Ephrayim (the younger) and his left hand on Menasheh (the elder). Yoseph thought that Yaakov had mistakenly reversed the order of his hands and tried to correct them. However, Yaakov refused to change the position of his hands, predicting that while Menasheh’s descendants would be great, Ephrayim’s would be even greater.
3. “Birchas Yaakov” (The Blessings of Yaakov). Yaakov called each of his sons to his bedside, blessed them, prophesied about each Tribe’s future and described each Tribe’s special attributes and characteristics.
4. Yaakov Dies. After instructing his sons to bury him in the Cave of Machpelah, Yaakov went to his bed and “returned to his people”.
5. Yaakov Is Buried. Yoseph fell upon Yaakov’s face and wept. The Egyptians mourned Yaakov’s death for seventy days. With Pharaoh’s permission, Yaakov, along with his brothers and their households and the elders of Egypt, returned to Canaan to bury Yaakov in the Cave of Machpelah.
6. Yoseph Reassures His Brothers. On the return trip to Egypt, Yoseph’s brothers feared that, now that Yaakov was dead, Yoseph would seek retribution and so they sought his pardon. Yoseph reassured them that he would not seek revenge, assuring them that he would continue to support them and their children.
7. Yoseph Dies. Before Yoseph’s death, Yoseph made the Children of Israel promise to take along his remains with them when Hashem returned them to Israel. Yoseph died at 110 and was placed in a coffin in Egypt.
B. Divrei Torah
1. Lilmode Ul’Lamed (Rabbi Mordechai Katz)
a. “And He Lived”. Why isn’t the word “death” used in connection with Yaakov? In fact, the Parsha, which recounts Yaakov’s death, is entitled “Vayechi” (“and he lived”). Taanis 56 teaches that there are two deaths — a physical death and the end of one’s influence and impact on the world. For many people, the two are simultaneous. However, in Yaakov’s case, he accomplished so much during his lifetime that his influence and impact survive even to this day. We should strive to accomplish something worthwhile during our lives so that our achievements will live on.
b. Ephrayim and Menasheh. Ephrayim and Menasheh were singled out during the blessing of the sons for two reasons: (a) they were the only members of Yaakov’s family born in “golus” (exile); despite the competing temptations of golus, they remained true to Hashem’s principles; (b) they are emulated for their lack of envy for each other (e.g., Menasheh was not jealous that Ephrayim received a greater blessing).
c. “Achdus” (Unity). The Ari HaKodesh comments that when the two “yuds” of Hashem’s name are written together, the letters can’t be erased. However, if one “yud” is higher than the other, it is not the name of Hashem and can be erased. The reason for this is that the two “yuds” must not be rivals and must consider themselves equal; only then do they symbolize Hashem. Similarly, two Jews can evoke Hashem’s spirituality only when they work together harmoniously, and not when one considers himself above the other. Egotism leads to destruction and rivalry and hatred can only cause the downfall of B’nai Yisroel. It is when Jews are united and accept each other as equals that B’nai Yisroel can thrive and flourish, and bring credit to Hashem and His Torah.
2. In the Garden Of The Torah (the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, z’tl)
a. Light In Darkness. Why were Yaakov’s best years spent in Egypt, not Canaan?: (i) the Alter Rebbe, z’tl notes that even before Yaakov arrived in Egypt, he sent Yehudah ahead to Egypt to establish a yeshivah; when one studies Torah, one comes closer to Hashem, allowing one to live with true and genuine vitality, even in Egypt; (ii) the thrust of Yaakov’s life was to draw close to Hashem through Torah study; yet, he didn’t stay in the tents of Shem and Even (the leading house of study in Canaan) — rather, his life encompassed a variety of circumstances and challenges, allowing him the opportunity to prove that the connection he established through Torah study was genuine; and (iii) not only did Yaakov study, but he involved his children and grandchildren and was thus able to extend the holy atmosphere of Canaan to Egypt.
b. Yaakov Still Lives in Each of Us. Yaakov’s connection to Hashem was perpectuated beyond his mortal lifetime. Regardless of one’s conduct or level of observance, every person remains a Jew and shares a connection to the entire Torah and Yaakov’s spiritual legacy. As the Torah teaches, “the Torah which Moshe commanded us is the heritage of the congregation’ of Yaakov”. This is Shabbos Chazak (the “Shabbos of Reinforcement”) since we declare “Chazak, Chazak, Vinischazaik” (“be strong, be strong and may you be strengthened”) as we complete Beresheis. Through the awareness nurtured by this Parsha — i.e., that we all have been granted a heritage of life expressed through a connection with the Torah, and that there will come a time when this connection will blossom — we can acquire the inner strength to confront our challenges.
3. Growth Through Torah (Rabbi Zelig Pliskin)
a. Unity creates love and love creates forgiveness. Yaakov called his sons together to achieve “Achdus” (“unity”). Only when there is unity among the descendants of Yaakov can there be redemption.
b. Work to not act impulsively. Yaakov told Reuven that he was “unstable as water and would not have pre-eminence”. The Torah’s metaphor shows us that, just as water flows quickly, so is the behavior of someone who acts impulsively. If we don’t weigh the consequences of our behavior, we can make many harmful mistakes and cause much damage.
c. All traits must be utilized in appropriate amounts. In talking about Shimon and Levi, Yaakov said “I will divide them among the rest of Yaakov and spread them among Israel”. The Chasam Sofer explains that while Shimon and Levi overreacted with violence for Dinah’s benefit, the other brothers did nothing. By “spreading out” their anger among the other brothers, Yaakov was ensuring that they would all have this trait in the proper amount. To be a complete person, every trait must be used, although we must look to the Torah to clarify the right time, place and amount for each trait.
d. Power over oneself is real power. Yaakov said: “Yehudah is a lion’s whelp, from the prey, my son, you have gone up.” Rashi notes that Yehudah elevated himself in two ways — by stopping his brothers from killing Yoseph and by publicly embarrassing himself to save Tamar. Rabbi Yeruschem Levovitz cites the Kuzari that righteous is one who rules over himself and his impulses; such a person is worthy of being a ruler over others, because he will rule with the same righteousness with which he rules himself, and is why Yehudah merited being the Tribe of the future Kings of Israel (and Moschiach).
e. True peace of mind comes from being able to accept all circumstances. About Yissachar, Yaakov said: “And he saw that rest was good, and the land that it was pleasant, and he bowed his shoulders to bear.” Why was the Torah given at Mt. Sinai (in the wilderness) and not in the calm and peacefulness of Israel? Rabbi Levovitz noted that this is teach us that true peace mind — the state in which one must be to accept and study Torah — doesn’t come from physical comforts, but from an awareness of one’s ultimate life goals. When you focus on this, you are constantly traveling toward your goal and will never be overly disturbed or broken. Yissachar, the Tribe devoted to Torah study, “bowed his shoulders to bear” — i.e., by training himself to bear any difficulties, he was able to reach the highest level of peace of mind in all situations.
4. Love Thy Neighbor (Rabbi Zelig Pliskin)
a. True kindness is helping someone without any ulterior motive. Yaakov told his sons “If I have found favor in your eyes . . . seal me with kindness and truth and bury me not in Egypt”. Rashi comments that kindness to the dead is true kindness, for one who does such kindness doesn’t look forward to any payment. Whenever we do something for others, we should emulate this kindness and have their, not our own, benefit in mind.
b. Smile at others. Yaakov blessed Yehudah that “your eyes will be red with wine and your teeth white with milk” (i.e., the land will be fertile so that it would produce an abundance of wine and milk). The Talmud teaches that “teeth white with milk” can be read to mean that when one shows his teeth (by smiling) to another, it is better than giving him milk; while milk nourishes the body, a smile enters the mind and body.
5. Kol Dodi on the Torah (Rabbi David Feinstein)
Soliciting Hashem’s Help. Why does the blessing of the sons state that Hashem should “make you like Ephrayim and Menasheh”, rather than may you “grow up” (i.e., work hard on your own) to become like Ephrayim and Menasheh? Chazel teach that even the most righteous person needs help from Heaven in overflowing measure. For example, if someone decides not to keep his store open on Shabbos, he must make that decision himself. He can, however, ask Hashem to make it easier (e.g., to send him more customers during the week). This principle teaches us the intent of the blessing which Yaakov suggested for his descendants. In the blessing of the children, we aren’t asking that Hashem “make” our children into righteous people since this can only be accomplished through their own hard work; rather, we are asking that Hashem help them in whatever ways He can, operating through the natural processes of the world. The fact that Ephrayim and Menasheh — who grew up in conditions least favorable for spiritual greatness — grew up to be such righteous people shows that Hashem must have given them more than the usual help to achieve their aspirations, a wish we have for our children.
6. Majesty of Man (Rabbi A. Henach Leibowitz)
Making The Impossible Achievable. Why did Yaakov make Yoseph make an oath that he wouldn’t allow him to be buried in Egypt? Ramban teaches that if Pharaoh would have prohibited his burial in Canaan, Yoseph’s oath would have given him the extra strength to defy Pharaoh. If we focus on the impact of our actions (e.g., on our visiting a hospital patient, giving charity, etc.), it will imbue us with strength to do “chesed” (kindness) and mitzvos which we previously thought was beyond our capacity.
7. Artscroll Chumash
A Note on the Shema. Rashi comments that Yaakov wished to tell his children when Moshiach would come (presumably to comfort them and their descendants during time of exile), but the Divine Presence deserted him. At first, he thought that it was because his children were unworthy, but when he asked them and they responded with the Shema, he exclaimed in gratitude “Baruch Shem Kavod . . . ” (the portion of the Shema which we ordinarily say under our breath).
8. D’rash Moshe (Rav Moshe Feinstein, z’tl)
Accepting the Oral Law. And Yoseph said to his brothers, “I am about to die, but G-d will surely remember you and bring you up out of this land that He promised an oath to Abraham, to Yitzchak and to Yaakov.” Then Yoseph adjured the Children of Israel, saying, “when G-d will indeed remember you, you must bring my bones out of here.” Rashi notes that in the first verse, Yoseph said that he heard from Yaakov, and in the second verse he said that the same thing happened in his own name. First he handed down the tradition he received from Yaakov and then he said it himself. It seems that the tradition emanated only from Yaakov, but Rashi in Shemos states clearly that the tradition came from both Yaakov and Yoseph. What exactly was Yoseph’s role in the tradition? These verses teach us a fundamental lesson in the faith we must have in the words of the Prophets and in the sayings of our Sages, both of which are Divinely inspired. Anything we receive from these sources must be accepted with complete faith, as if we had seen and heard it spoken directly from Hashem Himself, not merely as words transmitted by our father. Thus, even though Hashem’s promise to Yaakov to redeem the Jews from Egypt, a prophecy, was only a received tradition as far as Yoseph was concerned, he nonetheless said it to his brothers in his own name as if he himself had heard it directly from Hashem. To give an example of what this means to us, the Sages said (in Sotah 2a) that forty days before the formation of the embryo, a heavenly voice announces that “so-and-so’s daughter is destined for so-and-so”. Once someone has married, then he or she must believe that Hashem intended their spouse specifically for them with as much unequivocal faith as if he or she had heard the heavenly proclamation his/herself. If this faith is indeed that clear, and he/she doesn’t feel that the marriage was the result of coincidence, then he/she and his/her spouse will live harmoniously all of their lives, for Hashem’s word is meant only for good and blessing. This example highlights the importance of accepting the words of our Sages as if we ourselves had heard them directly from Hashem.
9. The Chasem Sofer on Beresheis
a. Yaakov’s Blessing of Yoseph. “And he blessed Yoseph and he said, Oh G-d before whom my forefathers Abraham and Yitzchak walked — G-d who shepherds me from my inception to this day — may the Angel who redeems me from all evil bless the lads and may my name be declared upon them and the names of my forefathers Abraham and Yitzchak and may they proliferate abundantly like fish within the land.” The Chasem Sofer notes that while seeming to bless Yoseph, Yaakov in reality blessed Yoseph’s children. This reminds us of the beautiful Aggadah in which Rabbi Yitzchak, having enjoyed the shades of a tree, sought to bless it. Since the tree was already blessed with Hashem’s bounty, he could only bestow upon it a wish: may your seed be like you. Similarly, Yoseph, blessed with all of his heart’s desires, was granted the baracha that his children follow in his path. The phrase “and may my name be declared upon name” may express Yaakov’s most sublime wish: just as I merited to have to have as worthy son as you, so may your children enjoy such outstanding children.
b. When will the Messianic Era Occur? Then Yaakov called for his sons and said, “Assemble yourselves and I will tell you what will behalf you in the End of Days. Gather yourselves and listen, Oh Sons of Yaakov, and listen to Yaakov your father.” While many assert that these words describe how Yaakov saw — but failed to reveal — when Moschiach would come, these verses reveal the conditions necessary for His arrival: (a) “Gather!” Unite, rather than resorting to endless factionalization; (b) Even if you are crushed by the fear of relentless persecutions — even if it takes a Haman to make you repent — your repentance will precipitate the coming of Moschiach; and (c) the name “Yisroel” connotes a triumphant people, doing teshuvah not out of fear, but out of a sincere desire to return to Hashem. Any of these factors will produce the End of Days!
10. Living Each Day (Rabbi Abraham Twerski)
Character refinement by faith. Yoseph said to his brothers: “Am I in place of G-d? You intended to harm me, but it was G-d’s intention that your actions turned out favorably.” In Vayishlach, we discussed that changing one’s character is difficult, if not impossible, without Torah, prayer and Divine assistance. It is much like the futility of being in a dark room and trying to drive the darkness out the window. If, however, you just light a candle, the darkness will disappear on its own. If one if diligent in Torah, prayer and connecting to Hashem, undesirable character traits can be removed. In this week’s Parsha, Yoseph’s brothers, following their father’s death, are nervous that Yoseph will now take revenge for their having previously sold him into slavery. Yoseph responds by assuring them that he has no intention of seeking revenge: “Am I in place of G-d,” he asked. Note that Yoseph does not say, “I will forgive you.” Rather, he points out how powerless he is to take revenge; hence, he has no intention of doing so. Is it not obvious, he asks, that we can not determine the outcome of our actions? What sense does it make for me to try to punish you? If it is the Divine Will that you will be spared from punishment, then all of my efforts will be in vain, just as your efforts to harm me were all in vain. Yoseph does not profess to be a saint who sets aside his deep resentment and be magnanimous in granting forgiveness. Rather, he dismisses seeking revenge as a useless act, because he considers revenge to be a futile feeling. That which G-d intends will come about regardless of our efforts to bring it about or prevent it. That is the ideal approach to ridding ourselves of undesirable traits. We must realize that we don’t control the world and that G-d does. The verse “You shall not take revenge” can also be correctly translated as “You can not take revenge.” It is simply out of our hands to make things happen. This is how undesirable traits — envy, greed, lust, vanity, etc. — should be eliminated. We need only know that what is intended to be will be, and that we are not intended to have we can not attain regardless of how much effort we exert. With proper faith in Hashem, everything will fall into proper place.
11. Reflections on the Sedra (Rabbi Zalman I. Posner).
Keys To Survival. Jacob, feeling his death imminent, summoned his sons and said “come together and listen, sons of Jacob, and listen to Israel your father.” “Come together” and “listen to Israel your father” are the dual keys to the survivial of the Jewish people. Factionalism is a luxury Jews cannot afford. G-d chose the entire Jewish people, not just certain segments of us. The second part of the verse, “listen to Israel your father,” reminds us that the true source of strength throughout our history has been that of the Torah and our faith in G-d.
12. Soul of the Torah: Insights Of the Chassidic Masters on the Weekly Torah Portions (Victor Cohen).
a. “And He Lived” While the Parsha is entitled Vayechi (“And He Lived”), it really speaks of Jacob’s death. The Lubavitcher Rebbe, z’tl noted that Jacob’s life was one of connection to G-d that transcended the material world. Since he shared this quality with his descendants, he was perpetuated beyond his mortal lifetime.
b. An Enduring Legacy. “Jacob our father did not die.” The S’fas Emes noted that when a child continues in his parents footsteps, it cannot be said that the parent has died. R’ Yisroel Modzitzer remaked that the statement “the house of Jacob is afire” means that in every Jewish heart there is a spark of the Divine. Of this spark, our Sages declared, “Jacob, our father, is not dead.” This flame would never be extinguished.
c. Daily Appreciation. “So he blessed them that day.” The Lenchener commented that Jacob blessed Yoseph’s children that they ought to bless and thank G-d for today and never worry about the morrow.
d. The Power of Prayer. “With my sword and with my bow”. The Kotzker commented that prayer is likened to a bow. The more one stretches a bow, the farther and higher the arrow goes. The same is true with prayer – the more we concentrate with Kavanah (deep feeling, the farther and higher it will reach.
e. Being United. “Gather yourselves and listen.” The Mishmeres Itmer said that when we are united and remain close with one another, then G-d will listen to us.
f. A Lesson In Patience. “And he saw a resting place, and that it was good . . . and he bent his shoulder to bear.” The Lubliner Rebbe noted that Jacob’s blessing to Issacher reflected Issacher’s ability to live in peace and harmony with his neighbors because “he bent his shoulder to bear.” That is, he learned to bend his shoulder, to let things go, and never to get involved with someone’s anger and manipulative behavior. On the same verse, R’ Bunim commented that when we desire release from worries, we can obtain it by bending our shoulders to anything that might befall us. By so doing, we can be spiritually satisfied no matter what the outcome.
13. Living Each Week (Rabbi Avraham Twerski).
a. Living Each Day. “He [Jacob] blessed them [Yoseph’s sons] on that day. . .” Of what significance is it that the blessing occurred on that day? The verse may be translated just a bit differently, to read “he blessed them with that day.” Jacob gave them a blessing that they live their lives on the particular day in which they find themselves, unencumbered by the burdens of the past or worries about the future. This is indeed a blessing. If we only channel our energies towards doing that which can be productive, instead of squandering them and trying to make yesterday better or worrying about possible future eventualities, how much happier we would be!
b. Avoidance of Envy. Why did Jacob single out Ephraim and Manasseh as the prototypes whom everyone would wish to emulate? Although Manasseh was the oldest of Yoseph’s two sons, Jacob had shown preference for the older Ephraim by placing his right hand on his head at the giving of the blessing. Although Yoseph objected, Manasseh bore it in silence. Upon seeing Manasseh’s reaction, Jacob said “let these two brothers be the examples for all Israel to follow.” When we see others who appear to have been given preferential treatment by G-d, let us remember the blessing of the Patriarch, and relate to his/her as Manasseh did to Ephraim.
c. Reinforce Positive Traits. “. . . everyone according to his blessing did he bless them.” Rashi explains that Jacob gave each tribe the blessing appropriate and specific for it, although he also gave them a comprehensive, inclusive blessing. Inasmuch as each tribe had its own particular strengths and talents, each received a blessing or stimulus to develop that dominant trait. Although there was also a comprehensive blessing, the emphasis was on the uniqueness of each tribe. Rabbi Yeruchem notes that this is the most effective formula for character development. Each of us has unique character traits which lend themselves more easily to perfection. It is these traits which should receive greatest emphasis, and which we should try to perfect. In the process of doing so, there will be a ripple effect, so that other traits of lesser dominance will also be perfected. This is undoubtedly what the wise Solomon meant when he said, “train the child according to his trend.” Character development may appear to be a formidable task, but it becomes much simpler if we begin with our natural tendencies which are more conducive to perfection. The self-confidence and reassurance that we will gain from doing so will facilitate the development of our other traits.
14. Vedibarta Bam (Rabbi Moshe Bogomilsky)
a. To Be Blessed As Fish. Why did Yaakov bless them to multiply as the fish of the ocean? Like the fish, which cannot survive outside water, we cannot survive outside our source of life, the Torah. Additionally, the life of a fish depends in large measure on its vitality and its ability to swim up stream; Yaakov blessed his children to be capable and willing to swim up stream and resist the temptation of swimming with the tide.
b. Righteous Children. “He blessed Yoseph saying. . . ‘ the angel who will redeem me from all evil should bless the lads [Menasheh and Ephraim].'” The Pasuk begins with Yaakov’s blessing to Yoseph and ends saying that he blessed Menasheh and Ephraim. What was the blessing for Yoseph? Yaakov’s blessing to Yoseph was that his children, Menasheh and Ephraim, should be righteous. When children conduct themselves in the proper way, the parents’ Nachas [joy] is the greatest blessing they for which they can wish.
c. Faith At All Times. “Assemble yourselves, and I will tell you what will befall you in the end of days. Yaakov gathered together his children and wanted to reveal the time of the coming of Moshiach. Suddenly, the Divine Presence left him. He began to worry, “maybe there is some fault in my children.” They immediately responded “Shema Yisrael, you believe in only one G-d and so do we.” Happily, Yaakov exclaimed “Blessed be the name of His glorious kingdom forever and ever.” What did Yaakov mean with this response? When a Jew finds himself in a troublesome situation, he oftens cries out “Shema Yisrael.” Yaakov was not surprised to hear his sons pronounce “Shema Yisrael” when they stood around his deathbed. However, he used the opportunity to convey an important legacy: “Do not express your absolute faith in Hashem only in times of anxiety and distress, but at all times and forever and ever. . .”
d. True Self Awareness. “And he blessed them; everyone according to his blessings, he blessed them.” Superficially, the words of “Yaakov to Reuven, Shimon and Levi appear to be rebukes rather than blessings. If so, how can we reconcile this with the above verse? We are mortal and thus subject to failure. We must work hard to overcome personal inperfection. Often, we do not realize, or refuse to acknowledge, our shortcomings and therefore there is no striving for change or transformation. The greatest blessing is knowledge of personal weaknesses. Yaakov’s admonishment was indeed a great blessing.
15. The Pleasant Way (Adapted From The Teachings of Horav Avrohom Pam, Z’tl)
The Power Of A Smile. “His eyes were red from wine and his teeth are whiter than milk.” The Talmud comments on Yaakov’s blessing to Yehudah that “that when a person displays the whites of his teeth (i.e., smiles warmly) at his friend, it is more beneficial than giving him a cup of milk to drink. When we smile warmly at another person, we make him/her feel good. We can do great acts of kindess with a simple smile or friendly word. With little time and effort, we can pull that person out of his troubled mood. Rav Yisroel Salanter used to say that our heart is a “reshus ha’yachid” (private domain) but our face is a “reshus ho’rabbim” (public domain).
16. Torah Gems (Rabbi Ahron Yaakov Greenberg)
a. Healing The Sick. “And Israel bowed himself at the head of the bed. . .” From here Chazal learned that the Divine Presence is above the head of one who is ill (Rashi quoting the Talmud). (R’ Nachman of Breslov)
b. Remaining Faithful. “And you shall Israel bless, saying, ‘G-d make you as a Ephraim and as Manassah. . .’ ” Why specifically as Ephraim and Manassah? Jacob realized that the time of the exile of his descendants was approaching and he knew that in exile their Jewishness would be endangered. He therefore blessed them that they should be as Ephraim and Manassah – the first Jews who were born, grew up and educated in exile. Despite this fact, they remained faithful to the House of Israel. (Yalkut Yehudah)
c. The Trait of Humility. G-d make you as Ephraim and as Manassah. . . ” Why was Ephraim blessed before Manassah? The reason, the Torah tells us, is that he was “the younger,” (i.e., that he was not arrogant but acted with humility). This teaches us to what extent G-d loves humility. (Chofetz Chaim)
d. Unity. “Gather yourselves together, that I may tell you that what shall befall you in the last days. . .” Yaakov wished to reveal to them the end [of days], so he said to them, “gather yourselves together”. For the end of the days to come, we all must be united (Shaloh).
e. Balance. “And he saw that security was good, and the land that it was pleasant; and bowed his shoulder to bear, and became a servant to tribute. . .” We must include all times, both physical and spiritual, together. When things are going well, we must remember the bad times and, if times are bad, we must remember the good times. Thus, when we see that our “security is good,” we must remember when we had to “bow our shoulder to bear,” and vice-versa. (Beitaharon By R’ Aharon of Karlin).
* * * *
Chazak, Chazak, Vinischazaik
Next Parsha: Shemos


Inuit have overcome many obstacles on the path to healing and reconciliation, and some examples will show how Inuit have utilized the visual arts to resist the forces of the European colonial legacy. Despite the numerous affronts deployed to protect Inuit society from the early to mid-twentieth century to the present, artmaking, as a consistent and positive presence in many Arctic Inuit communities over the past sixty years, has been an important factor in supporting Inuit cultural resilience.1
Processes of Colonization and Christianity in the North
While Western discourse often separates, classifies, or compartmentalizes its objects of study, it would be imprudent to engage in a discussion of the impact of residential schooling on Inuit culture in isolation from the other nearly simultaneous and traumatic events experienced by Inuit communities during the mid-twentieth century. Following centuries of a relatively uninterrupted and fundamentally semi-nomadic lifestyle, even the prolonged contact with European whalers and explorers throughout the nineteenth century could not have prepared the Inuit for the rapid onslaught of European colonization in the Arctic over the span of the first half of the twentieth century. Residential schooling was only one facet of the numerous threats to Inuit sovereignty from the hegemonic colonial society that imposed a multitude of changes in the North. In many ways, Inuit culture is still reeling from the combined impacts of a number of detrimental changes. As such, it is not surprising that many Inuit artists have not often dealt directly or solely with residential schooling as artistic subject matter, but instead addressed the issues and impacts that have emerged from the elaborate convolution of these outside forces. For example, intergenerational trauma is one of the legacies of residential schools. Its effects occur when victims of trauma develop unhealthy ways of coping, such as self-medicating with drugs or alcohol and then unwittingly pass these dysfunctional behaviours on to their children.
Alcoholism is one impact that arose out of residential schools and is represented through Inuit art. More famous for his drawings of birds and Arctic animals, Kananginak Pootoogook has created a significant series of narrative drawings that provide cogent examples of the ills of alcoholism in his community, despite only hinting at the origin of the problem. One of these drawings, which appeared in the Spring 2007 edition of Inuit Art Quarterly, is captioned by the artist: “This is the Inuk man’s first drink ever. Even though it’s only wine he is very intoxicated. This is the beginning of Alcoholism.”2 In the image, a white man attired like a trapper looks on with detached amusement while a clearly intoxicated Inuk sloshes a glass of red wine around.
Sculptor Ovilu Tunnillie and graphic artist Annie Pootoogook, two women artists of the Inuit avant-garde, have also provided variations on the theme of impacts of alcohol. They too intertwine a variety of complex issues in their art by examining the relationship of alcohol with spousal abuse, negative self-image, and community impacts—all legacies of the colonial incursion in the North and, in some circumstances, the direct result of residential schools.
Dramatic Changes to Inuit Lifestyle
In the few short decades preceding the introduction of the residential school system to the North, the traditional way of life in the Arctic was already under threat of erosion due to the impact of Euro-Canadian culture throughout the North. Unlike the South, where the changes to Aboriginal communities were spread out over a century of increased Western European colonization and evangelization, Inuit culture had remained relatively intact and unscathed until the 1950s, largely because the Inuit had been ignored by the Canadian government and was isolated from prolonged contact with southerners. Beginning in the late nineteenth century (and much earlier in Labrador), Christian missionaries were dispatched to the Arctic and Subarctic, but it was not until the 1910s and 1920s that massive numbers of Inuit were rapidly and almost wholly converted primarily to the Catholic and Anglican faiths. The churches banned the Inuit converts from practicing numerous spiritual customs and cultural traditions, believing that the Inuit way of life to be fundamentally heathen and savage. At the same time, Hudson’s Bay Company trading posts had been established throughout the North, encouraging Inuit to abandon their semi-nomadic lifestyle and to settle in the communities established around the posts.3 This often led to the over-hunting of wildlife in the areas of settlement and further dependency on canned goods and packaged foods from the South. Diseases such as smallpox and tuberculosis spread quickly throughout these new settlements as well.4
Seemingly overnight, Inuit populations had been converted to Christianity, were concentrated in settlements and threatened by disease, and had become dependant on trade goods. Sled dogs are alleged to have been slaughtered by RCMP officers throughout the eastern Arctic and elsewhere, further grounding the already partially immobilized Inuit.5 In northern Quebec and Labrador, Inuit communities were wholly relocated under the pretence of benefiting the community, but in reality serving government interests only.6 This had devastating consequences on the relocatees as well as on the settlements they overcrowded. Amidst this cultural turmoil, residential schools were introduced across the North under the pretext that the residential school system would be “the most effective way of giving children from primitive environments, experience in education along the lines of civilization leading to vocational training to fit them for occupations in the white man’s economy.”7 Inuit children were taken from their homes in large numbers and forced to learn the Qallunaat (Inuktitut for Europeans and Euro-Canadians) way of life at the expense of their own. Prior to 1955, less than 15 per cent of school-aged Inuit children were enrolled in residential schools; within a decade, this number would climb to over 75 per cent.8
The Survivors, while grateful for the education they received, had suffered greatly as children, and many grew up to be traumatized adults. Inuit children were forbidden to speak their own language or practice any aspect of their culture in the schools, dormitories, hostels, and other residences. The crux of assimilation lies in the adoption of the English language, so the prohibition on traditional languages was often strictly enforced with harsh punishments. Many students were physically, mentally, and sexually abused by those responsible for their care. Furthermore, Inuit children were made to feel ashamed of their traditional way of life, and many had developed disdain toward their parents, their culture, their centuries-old practices and beliefs, and even for the country foods their parents provided. The deleterious effects that the residential school system had on the health and well-being of these Survivors and their families were evident everywhere in their communities and were compounded by the other converging impacts of colonialism and evangelization.
The Contemporary Inuit Arts Industry in the Arctic
The aforementioned changes ushered in a new era of impoverishment to Inuit culture that took hold in the span of mere decades, and this had continued unabated throughout the 1950s and on into the next four decades. In the beginning of this era, the newly settled Inuit were presented with few opportunities for wage employment, and the fur trade was in sharp decline. Following the conclusion of World War II and the beginning of the Cold War, Inuit were becoming increasingly dependent on the support of the federal government, and the federal government was becoming increasingly concerned with maintaining Arctic sovereignty, which dealt with it by way of taking responsibility for its Arctic citizens.9 During this period of increased and reluctant paternalism, the arts industry was one of the first experimental developments introduced to replace the fur trade. As an industry that required little machinery or overhead, it seemed to be work well-suited to remote northern areas, and the government sentiment seemed to be that the development of Inuit handicrafts was an avenue “for which nature has fitted them.”10 Most significantly, it was also one of the first opportunities for subjugated Inuit to regain a necessary measure of self-reliance.
Instrumental in the success of this fledgling venture was teacher and artist James Houston, who travelled throughout the North during the 1950s and 1960s instructing Inuit on what things would sell in the South and liaised with the Hudson’s Bay Company, the Canadian Handicrafts Guild, and the federal government to purchase works, hold exhibitions, and market Inuit art to southerners. Under Houston’s guidance, the industry quickly grew into a viable economic substitute for the rapidly declining fur trade.
Because Inuit had always carved and produced beautiful handmade clothing and personal adornments, they were already skilled for this arts industry. Furthermore, Inuit were quite accustomed to the process of manufacturing carvings for trade and sale; there are reports from as early as 1821 of Inuit bartering ivory figurines and models with seamen from whalers and other ships that visited Arctic waters.11 Moreover, there were many positive effects from the early carvings and handicrafts trade. Welfare administrator and teacher Margery Hinds reported on the improvement in morale in the encampments around Port Harrison;12 and RCMP officers reported similar accounts for other locales where welfare payments had decreased.13 Government administrators, and even many teachers, encouraged the production of handicrafts in the manner that Houston had laid out, and sales of arts and crafts went up in the communities where Houston was involved. Port Harrison, for example, experienced an increase in purchases from $76 in 1948 to $11,700 in 1952. In Povungnituk, the increase was from $90 to $1,900 for the same time span.14
Perhaps it was more significant that Inuit were being asked to depict their traditional and, in many cases, forbidden cultural practices in stone and, later, on paper and in textiles. Artists could illustrate the stories they had told for millennia as well as the Indigenous knowledge bestowed on them by their ancestors, the animals they had studied since childhood, and the traditional lifestyle they had so recently lived. While all around them their culture was being debased, devalued, and actively oppressed by the dual forces of colonialism and Christianity, these same values were revered, celebrated, and voraciously collected in their arts.
For artists, there is no doubt that there was an economic motivation behind the creation of artworks that featured traditional themes, as their main audience in the beginning were the primitive art enthusiasts of the international art market; those who had romanticized notions about the daily lives of Inuit.15 The traditional subject matter of the artwork held a different meaning for this audience than it did for the makers. Inuit art buyers were able to imagine the Inuit as an untouched society, of which representations of this traditional lifestyle sold well, and Inuit were no doubt aware of this fact. It is undeniable that Inuit artists have been highly successful in creating traditional art that suits Western tastes, as the global market for Inuit art attests.16 However, as long as Inuit knowledge, stories, or practices portrayed in the artwork are not distorted or falsified to make them more saleable, the artwork can both appeal to a Western audience as well as act as an expression of cultural knowledge and cultural resilience. In fact, these motivate many Inuit artists today to continue making art about what life was like before colonization.
Despite being his primary source of income, stone sculptor Uriash Puqiqnak stated, “When I carve, I try to convey what it was like for Inuit in the early 1940s.”17 Graphic artist Mayureak Ashoona has said of her artwork that “These are all about history – what has been going on. They are memories; the whole truth about all of life for those who forget about their history; to make sure that the young people know what really happened; to work both sides, from the past to the future; to communicate with people in the South because I can’t speak English. I am proud of that lifestyle – my Inuit life.”18
Impacts of Colonization and Christianity and Utilizing Art in the Healing Process
In recent years, some artists have daringly stepped outside this framework to provide us with a number of divergent perspectives on the transformation of the North. These new artworks, uncommon and introspective, are a significant departure from the traditional imagery usually found in past decades, but I would argue that they serve similar ends: to strengthen from within a culture threatened by dominant outside forces and to examine the way of life as Inuit know it. As the second and third generation of Inuit artists emerge, the possibility of remembering a traditional and unmediated lifestyle becomes less likely, and the artwork is shifting to reflect this reality. The movement towards depicting the intercultural encounter between Inuit and Western worlds most prominently began with Pudlo Pudlat, the artist who first combined traditional Inuit transformation iconography with modern transportation technologies, such as depicting planes, ships, and helicopters in his art from the 1960s onward.19 This new approach to Inuit art seems to be accelerating of late and includes more social commentary and critique.
This emergent socially conscious art is indicative of the increased ability of Inuit to reflect upon and respond to the multiple stressors of contemporary life. There has been a noticeable shift over the last two decades to a focus on daring, new intercultural or transcultural subject matter (as demonstrated in the work of Napatchie Pootoogook, Mike Massie, Toonoo Sharky, Floyd Kuptana, and many others) and what is hopefully a growing body of work that directly calls into question
the legacy of trauma and colonization of the Arctic (as in the work of, Manasie Akpaliapik, Annie Pootoogook, and Oviloo Tunnilee).
The aforementioned graphic artist, Annie Pootoogook, for example, presents an impressive self-reflexive and autobiographical account of her personal challenges. In one work, entitled Memory of My Life: Breaking Bottles (2001-02), Pootoogook expresses her frustration with family alcoholism by depicting the time she gathered all the liquor bottles up and smashed them.20 Such bold statements are novel to Inuit art, but indicate a willingness of Inuit artists to begin the difficult process of self-examination and a desire to rebound from adversity to become fortified and more resourceful—the essence of resilience.
Yet to date, nowhere has this resilience and self-reflexivity been more evident than in the work of brothers Abraham Anghik Ruben21 and David Ruben Piqtoukun. Piqtoukun and Ruben are pioneers in the field who have drawn directly from their experiences as students of the residential school system to inspire their artwork. For the majority of students who attended residential school, the wounds inflicted by the system have left deep scars that continue to affect many aspects of their daily lives; so, from these two artists who have poured their memories and emotions into their artwork, we may be able to learn much about the power of self-expression to heal and fortify.
For Ruben, becoming an artist was the catalyst for self-healing. In a 1991 interview, Ruben recounted the eleven years he spent suffering from the legacy of residential schooling until he met Alaskan Inupiaq artist Ron Senungetuk, a professor at the Native Arts Centre at the University of Alaska in Fairbanks, and began professional art training: “For the first time in years, I felt at home.”22 Since then, Abraham has gone on to create several bold works of social critique that bring awareness to the issues he holds dear: Kittigazuit (1999–2000), for example, narrates in the abstract a community decimated by foreign disease; and The Last Goodbye (2001) depicts with vivid clarity the pain he remembers his mother had experienced as she sent her two older children to residential school.
For Piqtoukun, the solo exhibition Between Two Worlds: Sculpture by David Ruben Piqtoukun was a revelation for artist and audiences alike. The artist created 62 works with such titles as Bearing Wounds (1995), Angst (1995), and Tradition Lost (1996). Taken together, these works expose the complexities and difficulties of cross-cultural translation and provide the viewer unmitigated access into Piqtoukun’s traumatic past and his continuing effort to strike a balance between two worlds. One of his most powerful messages of Inuit cultural resilience is present in The Ever-Present Nuns (1995), of which Piqtoukun wrote, “The four faces pointing in four directions represent the all-seeing nuns. They attempted to watch over and control the Inuit children in their school, even to control their inner lives. But the nuns could not see everything. They were blind to the owl spirit hovering directly above them.”23
From the tremendous efforts of these two siblings we have been given a remarkable insight into the potential of artmaking as a tool for both resisting colonization and strengthening Inuit voice. In fact, all of the artists featured in this essay have shown us that art can be creatively utilized as a vehicle to preserve and fortify our cultural heritage and as an instrument of both personal and collective healing. However, as we enter this period of unprecedented nationwide awareness around residential schools, the artwork of Inuit, First Nations, and Métis people can play another important role. The power of visual art to speak across linguistic, cultural, and generational divides presents an opportunity for artists to tell these stories to a broad audience and to support the continued strengthening and revitalization of the national reconciliation process.
Heather Igloliorte is an Inuk artist, writer, and curator from Labrador. After graduating from the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design University with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in painting and a minor in art history, she moved to Ottawa to pursue her Master’s in Canadian Art History, specializing in Inuit art. While in the master’s program, Heather completed a year-long internship as a curatorial assistant at the Canadian Museum of Civilization, became involved with the Aboriginal Curatorial Collective (ACC), and was hired by the Carleton University Art Gallery to be the Curator of Inuit Art for the 2005–2006 academic year. Her artwork has been shown and sold all over the east coast and can be found in several public and private collections.
Heather is now pursuing a doctorate in Inuit and other global Indigenous art histories at Carleton University with the Institute for Comparative Studies in Language, Arts, and Culture. Her dissertation research centres on the historic and contemporary visual arts of the Labradorimiut.
She is also currently working on several upcoming exhibitions, including the nationally touring exhibit We Were So Far Away – The Inuit Experience of Residential Schools, which features the stories of eight Inuit former students of residential schools. ↩
- The Aboriginal Healing Foundation explains that resilience “is most often defined as the capacity to spring back from adversity and have a good life outcome despite emotional, mental or physical distress.… the adoption of “mature defenses” (i.e., humour and altruism) can help individuals overcome a lifetime of adversity; whereas anti-social or self-injurious coping strategies can aggravate existing risk factors and conditions. Breaking with the past and disrupting negative chain reactions are, therefore, critical steps in desisting from such negative strategies.… Culture and resilience intersect and help shape traditions, beliefs and human relationships. Traditional Aboriginal societies have placed great emphasis on fostering resilience for children and youth, but an oppressive colonial experience has often cut off Aboriginal parents from such cultural moorings. Notwithstanding, the resurgence of Aboriginal beliefs and practices, accompanied by traditional resilience promotion strategies, has given rise to promising interventions.” Stout, Madeleine Dion and Gregory Kipling (2003:iii – iv). Aboriginal People, Resilience and the Residential School Legacy. Ottawa, ON: Aboriginal Healing Foundation. It is my contention that artmaking is one of these promising interventions that may strengthen the resilience of Inuit culture against past and continued oppressions. ↩
- Cited in Kardosh, Robert (2007:14). The Other Kananginak Pootoogook. Inuit Art Quarterly 22(1):10–18. ↩
- Unfortunately, these government-created communities “were usually constructed at the site of the trading posts, inspite of the fact that these locations had been chosen to satisfy the demands of the fur trade (access to ports, for instance) and were not necessarily suited to supporting large colonies of people.” Mitchell, Marybelle (1993:336). Social, Economic, and Political Transformation among Canadian Inuit from 1950 to 1988. In In the Shadow of the Sun: Perspectives on Contemporary Native Art. Gatineau, QC: Canadian Museum of Civilization: 333–356. ↩
- Norget, Kristen (2008:222). The Hunt for Inuit Souls: Religion, Colonization, and the Politics of Memory. In Gillian Robinson (ed.), The Journals of Knud Rasmussen: A Sense of Memory and High-Definition Storytelling. Montreal, QC: Isuma Productions: 217–236. ↩
- These allegations are currently under investigation by the Qikiqtani Inuit Association. ↩
- In 1959, the Hebronimiut of Labrador, for example, had their community forcibly relocated to more southern Labrador communities because the non-Inuit administrators in Hebron felt that it was too expensive to continue to fly supplies to the coast; Inuit were promised new homes and jobs, yet those promises were never fulfilled. Brice-Bennett, Carol (2000). Reconciling with Memories: A Record of the Reunion at Hebron 40 Years after Relocation. Nain, NL: Labrador Inuit Association. ↩
- NAC RG85 volume 1507, file # 600-1-1, part 7. Report on Education in Canada’s Northland, 12 December 1954. ↩
- King, David (2006). A Brief Report of the Federal Government of Canada’s Residential School System for Inuit. Ottawa, ON: Aboriginal Healing Foundation. ↩
- Diubaldo, Richard (1985). The Government of Canada and the Inuit: 1900-1967. Ottawa, ON: Research Branch, Corporate Policy, Indian and Northern Affairs Canada. ↩
- Canada. Department of the Interior (1928:10). Annual Report of the Department of the Interior for the Fiscal Year Ended March 31, 1928. Ottawa, ON: Department of the Interior. ↩
- In order to obtain early trade goods from European whalers and other Arctic travellers, Inuit began producing quantities of figurines and miniatures specifically for the purpose of bartering. As early as 1821, William Parry recounted that Inuit who met his ships along the shores of Baffin Island were eager to trade their ivory models for “any trifle we chose to give them.” In Parry, William E. (1824:24). Journal of the Second Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific. New York, NY: Greenwood Press. Certain types of carvings and models of traditional tools, toys, and amulets were in high demand. In response, Inuit carvers produced these carvings in quantity for trade with Europeans. As George Swinton has pointed out in Sculpture of the Inuit, it was in this period that Inuit commercial art production truly first began. In Swinton, George (1999). Sculpture of the Inuit, 3rd revised edition. Toronto, ON: McClelland and Stewart. ↩
- Goetz, Helga (1985). The Role of the Department of Indian and Northern Affairs in the Development of Inuit Art. Ottawa, ON: Inuit Art Section, Indian and Northern Affairs, Research and Documentation Centre (unpublished manuscript). ↩
- Graburn, Nelson H.H (2004). Authentic Inuit Art: Creation and Exclusion in the Canadian North. Journal of Material Culture 9(2):141–159. ↩
- These figures were estimates by Goetz, and include prices paid by the Guild, the HBC, the Catholic and Anglican missions, and military personnel. ↩
- It should be noted that several scholars have examined the motivations behind the avid collection of early contemporary Inuit art and, particularly, its acceptance into the international art market intrinsically linked as it was to the perception of Inuit as “primitive” peoples. This monetary motivation has been critiqued repeatedly by non-Inuit art historians over the short history of contemporary Inuit art, particularly because the promoters of Inuit art seem to have actively tried to conceal or minimize the importance of economic incentives to Inuit artists. This idea was capitalized upon by Inuit art’s most passionate promoter, James Houston, who keenly understood the mid-century modernist fascination with primitive peoples and used it to market Inuit art as the products of an untouched, exotic, and primitive society. This is in sharp contrast to the realities of Inuit life previously mentioned in this essay. For more information see, for example, Igloliorte, Heather (2007). Sanajatsarq: Reactions, Productions, and the Transformation of Promotional Practice. Inuit Art Quarterly 22(4):14–25. ↩
- Furthermore, Inuit artists have been often criticized for focusing on traditional themes and for representing themselves in a way that is different from the realities of daily life. These critics, while acknowledging that, as Robert Kardosh has said, “the expression of traditional subjects serves an important purpose by helping to preserve and sustain Inuit identity in an era of globalization,” still denounce this traditional art form as primarily motivated by the international art market’s nostalgic desire for the products of an authentic and primitive society. Kardosh, Robert (2007:16). The Other Kananginak Pootoogook. Inuit Art Quarterly 22(1):10–18. ↩
- Cited in Mitchell, Marybelle (1991:12). Seven Artists in Ottawa. Inuit Art Quarterly 6(3):6–17. ↩
- Cited in Feheley, Patricia (2001:14). Focus on Mayureak Ashoona. Inuit Art Quarterly 17(1):14–19 (italics removed). ↩
- Hessel, Ingo (1998). Inuit Art: An Introduction. New York, NY. Harry N. Abrams, Inc. ↩
- See page 13 for this image printed in Feheley, Patricia (2004). Modern Language: The Art of Annie Pootoogook. Inuit Art Quarterly 19(2):10–15. ↩
- Ruben’s 2001 Brazilian soapstone carving, Wrestling With My Demons, was featured on the cover of the 2008 AHF publication, From Truth to Reconciliation: Transforming the Legacy of Residential Schools. ↩
- Cited in Gunderson, Sonia (2005:20). Abraham Apakark Anghik Ruben: A View from the Top of the World. Inuit Art Quarterly 20(4):18–25. ↩
- Cited in Gillmor, Alison (1996:32). Between Two Worlds: Sculpture by David Ruben Piqtoukun. Inuit Art Quarterly 11(4):30–34. ↩