I am inuit

Alaskan photographer brian caleb adams captured real life, culture and friendly folks in his arctic home.

I grew up in Girdwood, Alaska – a small town about 50 kilometres south of Anchorage, Alaska’s largest city. I’m half Inupiaq; my father’s side of the family is from Kivalina, Alaska, and my mother’s side comes from Wisconsin and Seattle in the US. In 2003, after graduating high school, I got a job as a photographer’s assistant. I’ve been taking photos ever since.

Conversations about the I AM INUIT project began in 2015. Kelly Eningowuk of the Inuit Circumpolar Council Alaska contacted me; she’d seen my book, I AM ALASKAN, and knew I was Inuit myself. She wanted to discuss what it would take to create a body of work similar to the format of Humans of New York, but focused on Alaskan Inuit. The idea was to launch on social media, then create a travelling exhibit and book. I put together a realistic budget, then, three months later, Kelly called me to let me know she’d received the first grant money to start the project.

The mission statement for I AM INUIT is to “connect the world with Inuit people through common humanity”. I think it’s extremely important for indigenous people and communities to tell their own stories. I grew up in a predominantly Caucasian town, detached from my Inupiaq roots. Growing up, my family was the Eskimo family, and I felt like I was supposed to know everything about my culture, even though my father’s home village was nearly 1000 kilometres away. Over the past 10 years, I’ve been reconnecting with my family’s roots and growing a better understanding of my own culture.

I shot this project for a year and three months, visiting 20 villages in north and north-western Alaska. It’s a big state and not all the communities are accessible by road, so you have to fly everywhere. Every time I landed in a village, the first thing I’d do was walk through the whole town. I don’t like overly posed portraits or staged things, so most of the photos were taken while out on those walks. Conversations with my subjects could have lasted a few minutes or a couple of hours, but some of the portraits came after spending days with the subjects and their families.

Only about five people declined me the entire time I was shooting. After 14 years of photographing people on the street, it’s easier to read if someone is willing or in the mood to give you a portrait or talk about themselves. It’s a lot to ask, so I’m very appreciative to everyone who chose to be part of the project. In Kaktovik especially, I feel like I made a lot of lifelong friends. I’m hoping to go back there soon.

I love Alaska. I love the smells, the thick moss and heavy woods. Most villages are on the coast or on a river for fresh water. Location is everything, because they have to live off what the land provides. Sure, you can buy a TV dinner at the store, but it quickly loses its appeal when it’s next to fresh berries, salmon or caribou. The main challenge of shooting in Alaska was the light – the sun stays up forever in the summer, but in the winter it can last for less than a couple of hours.

My goal for this project was to share with the world what real Inuit life is like today. Not what reality TV shows say we are, or the old history books written by white men said we were – what we are, here, now. Despite decades of historical trauma and abuse, we’re still here and continuing what people tried to beat out of us. I’m really proud of where I come from and the people who got me here, and I want my kids to be proud of that, too.

Page 94, top: “My birthday is April 22, 1922. I still go to church with my cane, but I forget I have it sometimes and carry it! I walk a lot. My mom lived to be 104. The secret to a long life is to drink lots of water – boiled water.” Edna Commack, Inupiaq from Shungnak

Page 96, top: “We wash our bodies, and try to clean the dirt off after we work. It’s called a steam house. We work all day, then this is where we come.” Robert White, William Sharp and John Sharp, Yup’ik from Quinhagak

Above: “I’ve been building sleds for quite a while. My dad taught me – when I made a mistake, he would straighten me out. Then I had to do it right, which was good. Airfares and gas are getting pretty high here, so it’s better to get some dogs, I think. A lot cheaper.” Oscar Griest Sr., Inupiaq from Shungnak

Above: “We’re getting the muktuk (whale skin and blubber) ready to serve during Thanksgiving. We caught this bowhead whale – we’re allowed three, our quota. We lost one, so we asked one of the other villages if it was OK to have one of theirs, and we are thankful to them for giving one up. We knew we’d be short on muktuk if we had only two. You try to cut them up and get them put away before the polar bears get to them. There’s 24-hour Nanuq patrol during whaling, because we’ve got bears waiting.” Marie Rexford, Inupiaq from Kaktovik