In October 2025, in the coastal town of Sisimiut, Greenland, something unprecedented took place. Inuit women from across the circumpolar world gathered for the first summit dedicated entirely to their voices, rights, and futures.

Organized by the Inuit Circumpolar Council (ICC), the Inuit Women’s Summit brought together 42 participants from across Inuit Nunaat, including Canada, Alaska, and Greenland, with addi-tional representation from Chukotka joining virtually. By the end of the three days, the group had produced the Inuit Women’s Summit Declaration, a document many are already calling historic.

For Alicia Aragutak, Corporate Secretary of Makivvik, attending the summit wasn’t something she initially planned.

“I actually wasn’t supposed to go,” she says. When ICC reached out to Makivvik for participant suggestions, Aragutak responded by thinking through who, across Nunavik, would be best suited to attend. “I went through all of Nunavik in my head,” she explains. “Childcare, politics, domestic violence…I was matching people to what I thought the summit would focus on.”

She put forward a list of other women. In the end, though, she was chosen to attend alongside Nunavingmi Ilagiit Papatauvinga Executive Director Mina Beaulne. Another delegate had been expected but couldn’t make the trip.

Once there, Aragutak found herself surrounded by an unusually diverse group of Inuit women. There were professionals from many different fields, including leaders, advocates, midwives, lawyers, and community builders, but what stood out most was how easily their experiences connected.

“There were so many relatable topics,” she says. “We were just immersed in advocates and leaders.”

The conversations often returned to the same core idea: when you talk about women, you’re also talking about children, and when you talk about children, you’re talking about the future. That connection gave the discussions a strong sense of purpose.

Some of the most difficult conversations focused on violence and the lack of safety in many communities. Participants spoke openly about how limited options can make it nearly impossible for women and families to leave harmful situations.

“In some places, there are no safe spaces,” Aragutak says. “No real options. Sometimes people feel like they have to pretend nothing happened.”

Those realities aren’t isolated. A lack of safety affects everything from housing to education to food security. Overcrowded housing, in particular, came up repeatedly as a factor that increases vulnerability and stress within families.

“Accountability is very, very hard,” she says referring to how to ensure perpetrators take responsibility for their actions. “We need to find a way to make accountability normal.”

At the same time, the summit wasn’t only about challenges. It was also about learning from one another. Aragutak describes it as a constant exchange, with women sharing what’s working, listening to what isn’t, and recognizing that each region is at a different stage in its evolution.

“In Nunavik, we know our truth,” she says, referring to the impacts of colonial systems. “We’re starting to move into reconciliation with creating programs, having those conversations.”

In other regions, she observed, people are still uncovering those truths. One of the most striking discussions for her involved Greenland, where participants spoke about past reproductive interventions (forced sterilizations) that are still being understood today. The long-term effects, including declining population numbers and ongoing health concerns, are still unfolding.

Moments like that reinforced how important it is to understand Indigenous rights frameworks, including the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.

“We hear about it, but we don’t always use it,” Aragutak says. “We should be learning it the same way we know our land claims and using it to push things forward.”

Aragutak also took part in a panel on mental health and wellbeing, where she spoke about changes she has seen in Nunavik over the past two decades. Drawing on her experience with initiatives connected to the Isuarsivik Regional Recovery Centre, she described a growing focus on grassroots approaches to healing.

“There’s been a real shift toward individual and community well-being,” she says. “But it’s not coming from one idea or one person. It comes from the people themselves, what they want, what they need.”

She also spoke about cultural practices that continue to support Inuit families, including naming traditions that create immediate networks of care for children. These systems, she says, are a strength that communities continue to build on.

Alongside these conversations, there was a sense of pride in what Inuit communities have already accomplished. Aragutak points to Nunavik as an example of a region that has made progress in reclaiming authority and building its own approaches, while still recognizing that there is more work to do.

The summit ended with the adoption of the Inuit Women’s Summit Declaration, which outlines priorities and recommendations for advancing the rights of Inuit women and girls. The document is expected to be presented at a future ICC gathering in Iqaluit and used as a tool for advocacy at multiple levels.

There is talk of holding another summit, although organizing something of that scale takes time and resources. The Inuit Women’s Summit directed ICC leadership to organize a second Inuit Women’s Summit to take place during the term 2026-2030 and called upon future ICC leadership to convene Inuit Women’s Summits in each term.

For Aragutak, though, the most important outcome isn’t just the declaration or future plans. It’s the connections that were built and the shared understanding that came out of those three days.

“It was inspiring,” she says. “We’re learning from each other. In some ways we’re ahead, in others we’re catching up. It was really give and take.”