Elle-Máijá Tailfeathers' film witnesses radical and profound change in her community. Kímmapiiyipitssini: The Meaning of Empathy is an intimate portrait of survival, love and the collective work of healing in the Kainai First Nation in Southern Alberta, a Blackfoot community facing the impacts of substance use and a drug-poisoning epidemic. Community members active in addiction and recovery, first responders and medical professionals implement harm reduction to save lives. This work is contextualized within the historical and contemporary impacts of settler colonialism; Kímmapiiyipitssini: The Meaning of Empathy draws a connecting line between the effects of colonial violence on Blackfoot land and people and the ongoing substance-use crisis. Held in love and hope for the future, Kímmapiiyipitssini: The Meaning of Empathy asks the audience to be a part of this remarkable change with the community.

After generations of silence, the rhythm of the Inuit drum has returned to Labrador. Evan's Drum is a joyful, intimate window into the lives of an Inuit family who work alongside their community to keep this drumbeat alive. At the heart of this story is seven-year-old Evan and his mother, Amy. In many ways, Evan is your typical adventurous and playful child; however, when it comes to the drum, his focus and passion for the instrument transcends his age. Among the first Labrador Inuit children in living memory to be raised with the traditional drum, Evan is part of a new generation of drum dancers. He was drawn to it from a very early age and is encouraged by his mother-an accomplished drummer and performer who took up the instrument in her teens. Proud of her son's genuine interest in the drum, Amy surrounds Evan with its heartbeat and guides him through the process of creating his own drum, aided by the expertise of Jennie Williams, one of a handful of Inuit women drum makers. The remarkable bond between mother and son, and their shared connection to the drum, link them to past and future generations of Labrador Inuit drummers. Labrador Inuk filmmaker Ossie Michelin takes us to Happy Valley-Goose Bay and into Amy and Evan's welcoming family home. Their love of drum dancing reflects the strong sense of pride that Labrador Inuit have in their traditional drum, which has become a symbol of cultural renewal and strength.

This is the story of the Caribou Inuit family who were Canada's last nomads. With the voices of three generations, they tell of their journey from an independent life hunting on the Keewatin tundra to the present, when they take the reins of the new territory of Nunavut on April 1, 1999. Amarok's Song: Journey to Nunavut is the result of close collaboration between Ole Gjerstad, a southern Canadian, and Martin Kreelak, an Inuk. Martin is a member of the family in the film and one of its principal characters. Amarok's Song speaks through three distinct voices. Elders, led by 80-year-old Amarok and his wife, Elizabeth, take us back to a time marked by incredible hardship, pride and a startling spiritual universe. Martin's generation has a foot in each world: they have borne the brunt of cultural clashes between southern and Inuit societies--and they are the ones who will set the course for their new homeland. Teens and young adults who were born in the settlements and grew up with satellite TV speak through their own short videos stories, shot by students at Baker Lake High School. A shorter video, Journey to Nunavut: The Kreelak Story (48 min), is also available. It focuses on Martin Kreelak's generation and that of the elders, represented by Amarok and his wife, Elizabeth.

Tracey Deer grew up on the Mohawk reserve of Kahnawake with two very firm but unspoken rules drummed into her by the collective force of the community. These rules were very simple and they carried severe repercussions: 1) Do not marry a white person, 2) Do not have a child with a white person. The consequences of ignoring these rules were equally simple: 1) Lose all status as an Indigenous person and, 2) Deny your unborn child their status as a Indigenous person. The larger tragedy, of course, was that by breaking either of these rules, she would be depleting the growth of ?the Nation? and, by extension, betraying everyone she loved. In Club Native, Deer looks deeply into the history and present-day reality of Indigenous identity. With moving stories from a range of characters from her Kahnawake Reserve - characters on both sides of the critical blood-quantum line - she reveals the divisive legacy of more than a hundred years of discriminatory and sexist government policy and reveals the lingering ?blood quantum? ideals, snobby attitudes and outright racism that threaten to destroy the fabric of her community.

Less than fifteen Nuxalk language speakers and storytellers remain in Bella Coola, British Columbia, today. One of these elders is the director Banchi Hanuse's 80-year-old grandmother. In a technologically obsessed century, it would seem easier to record Nuxalk stories for future generations, but Hanuse resists. Instead, she asks whether an electronic recording can capture the true meaning and value of these oral traditions. More importantly, can it be considered cultural knowledge? Cry Rock examines how Nuxalk stories are more than mere words. With the passing of an elder, an invaluable link to a treasure of knowledge and experience reflecting the Nuxalk [Nuxalkmc] world view is lost. As Hanuse struggles with the decision, a spine tingling story about the Cry Rock in the bend of the Atnarko River, nestled in the Bella Coola Valley, is retold by Clyde Tallio, a young Nuxalk man.

A tribute to Indigenous women everywhere, this short documentary focuses on 5 women from across Canada. Of varied ages and backgrounds, they have achieved success in a variety of careers: as the Yukon legislature's first Indigenous woman minister (Margaret Joe), as a deck hand on a fishing boat (Corinne Hunt), as a teacher (Sophie MacLeod), as a lawyer (Roberta Jamieson), and as a band council chief (Sophie May Pierre - St. Mary's Indian Band of the Ktunaxa Nation off the Ktunaxa Nation). Each of these women talks about how she got to where she is today, and attests to the importance of Indigenous culture - its values, art, and spiritual beliefs - in helping her to develop a sense of self and seeing through rough times, including residential school experiences.

The men of Shoal Lake 40 tell the story of life in the community from their perspective, in the lead-up to their annual powwow. Lorne Redsky works the outdated pump house; there is no money to fix basic systems and bottled water is required for everyday use. As Lorne focuses his energy on the monumental task of getting clean water to the powwow, community member Kavin Redsky prepares his regalia for dancing, a deeply personal process connected to his healing journey. The two men embody the powerful gifts of community, traditional culture, and medicines, which have given the people of Shoal Lake 40 the resilience to continue the fight for Freedom Road.

Shoal Lake 40 women talk about their struggles, and those of their parents and grandparents, in trying to raise their families in a hazardous state of enforced isolation. Everyone in the community has a harrowing story of a loved one falling through the ice while trying to get across the lake, with pregnant women and new mothers fearing for their babies and having no choice but to make the trek in dangerous conditions. The film shows the key role of the community's women in demanding funding for the road from three levels of government, and how their reconnection to culture and ceremony give them the strength to keep going.

Shoal Lake 40 youth share what it's like to be forced to live away from their close-knit families and community to attend high school in Kenora, Ontario. The community's school provides courses up to the Grade 8 level only, so there are no other options for young people who want to continue their education. Some of the young men are able to work on the construction of the road, a rare opportunity to have a good job in the community. The pride of the youth in doing this work is palpable, and they express the gratification that comes with providing safety for their Elders and opportunities for future generations. Despite the systemic and personal racism they've already experienced, Freedom Road gives the youth a sense of optimism and instills hope in them for the future of their community and their own ability to contribute.

Under a sweltering July sky, participants in the sacred Sundance ceremony go four days without food or water. At the end of the gruelling experience they will pierce the flesh of their chests in an offering to the Creator. The Sundance is a ritual long misunderstood, and once banned - but one that is now helping to bring personal and social healing to East Coast Indigenous communities. With The Sacred Sundance, Mi'kmaq director Brian J. Francis journeys into the traditions of North American Indigenous spirituality. The Sundance is new to the Mi'kmaq people of Eastern Canada, brought to them from the West by elder William Nevin of the Elsipogtog First Nation. This event marks a unique transmission of traditional culture from one First Nation to another.

Fourteen-year-old Shannen Koostachin launched a campaign to build a suitable school for the children of the Cree community of Attawapiskat in 2008. Two years later, tragedy struck when Shannen was killed in a car accident. Her campaign became a national movement, bringing people from all walks of life together to make Shannen's Dream-the dream of fairness in education for First Nations children, in schools that are safe and welcoming-a reality. With the documentary Hi-Ho Mistahey!, Alanis Obomsawin brings together the voices of those who have taken Shannen's Dream across Canada and all the way to the United Nations in Geneva, in a larger-than-life adventure. In February 2012, a motion on education for First Nations children passed unanimously in the House of Commons. The voice of the children had been heard, and construction of a new school in Attawapiskat could finally begin.

"It's not how it used to be." The words of Cézar Néwashish resonate throughout this short documentary that explores the history of the Atikamekw community of Manawan, Quebec. Less than a century old in name, Manawan embodies the experiences of so many Indigenous communities across Canada. Where once they practised their customs freely on a vast territory, the arrival of the Europeans would eventually mean the restriction of their cultural practices and confinement to a reserve named Manawan. This short is part of the Manawan series directed by Alanis Obomsawin. Remastered on DVD in 2009.

Documentary about a group of Inuit elders from Nunavut who visit museums in five different cities in Canada and the United States to see the collections of artifacts and objects created by their ancestors to accommodate their daily life such as clothes, masks, tools, toys, vessels, etc.

Bobby Kenuajuak was born in 1976 in the village of Puvirnituq on the shores of Hudson Bay in northern Quebec. He won a National Film Board contest for Indigenous filmmakers at the age of 23, which allowed him to learn his craft at the NFB's Montreal headquarters, where he spent 18 months producing this film. Shot during three seasons, Kenuajuak's documentary tenderly portrays village life and the elements that forge the character of his people: their history, the great open spaces and their unflagging humour. Though Kenuajuak appreciates the amenities of southern civilization that have made their way north, he remains attached to the traditional way of life and the land: its vast tundra, the sea teeming with Arctic char, the sky full of Canada geese. My Village in Nunavik is an unsentimental film by a young Inuk who is open to the outside world but clearly loves his village. With subtitles.

Nalujuk Night is an up-close look at an exhilarating, and sometimes terrifying, Labrador Inuit tradition. Every January 6, from the dark of the Nunatsiavut night, the Nalujuit appear on the sea ice. They walk on two legs, yet their faces are animalistic, skeletal and otherworldly. Snow crunches underfoot as they approach their destination: the Inuit community of Nain. Despite the frights, Nalujuk Night is a beloved custom, showing that sometimes it can be fun to be scared. Rarely witnessed outside of Nunatsiavut, this annual event is an exciting chance for Inuit, young and old, to prove their courage and come together as a community to celebrate culture and tradition. Inuk filmmaker Jennie Williams plunges audiences directly into the action in this bone-chilling black-and-white short documentary about a winter night like no other.

In 2012, the National Film Board of Canada (NFB) in partnership with the Aboriginal Peoples Television Network (APTN) launched Tremplin NIKANIK, a competition for francophone First Nations filmmakers in Quebec hoping to make a first or second documentary with a runtime of 30 minutes or less. Thérèse Ottawa was one of the competition's finalists, completing her first film, Red Path. In following the story of Tony Chachai, a young Indigenous man in search of his identity, Ottawa raises issues relating to her culture, the past, and the transmission of knowledge and traditions among members of the Atikamekw Nation. Moved by the desire to reconnect with his roots, Tony Chachai delivers touching testimony on the journey that brought him closer to his family and community. On the verge of becoming a father himself, he becomes increasingly aware of the richness of his heritage and celebrates it by dancing in a powwow alongside his cousin Ronny Chachai.

At age 81, Pete Standing Alone has come full-circle in his dedication to preserving the traditional ways of his people. The third film in a trilogy, Round Up traces Pete's personal journey from cultural alienation to pride and belonging. As a spiritual elder, teacher, and community leader of the Kainai (Blood) of Southern Alberta, Pete's efforts to rebuild the cultural and spiritual decimation wrought by residential schools have focused on teaching youth the traditional ways. In his own words: "It is our duty and responsibility as Blood Indians to keep our ways going.

Christians have cathedrals, Muslims their mosques. Indigenous people in Canada are used to praying in natural settings, all the world is a sacred space. Smudge follows three Indigenous women who celerate their right to worship in their own ways - drumming, singing or using sweetgrass - spiritual practices that may seem at odds with a busy city.

Lyrical and honest, filmmaker Marie Burke journeys inward into the spiritual world of traditional Indigenous medicine, the world of Mary and Ed Louie. With a lifetime of experience in spirituality, Mary and Ed are steadfastly committed to the practices that keep them accountable to the spirit world, their people and Mother Earth. In a twist of fate, sound recordist Don Howell is unexpectedly diagnosed with throat cancer during the filming process. He chooses to be treated with modern medicine, and for the first time ever, seeks Mary and Ed for spiritual guidance and healing. Though many healing practices and ceremonies are considered too sacred to be filmed, Mary and Ed decide to allow Don's doctoring to be recorded for the purposes of teaching others. From the lush Smilkameen Valley of the interior to the cityscapes of Vancouver, British Columbia, Burke reveals a beautiful way of life rarely seen and explores the ongoing debate around the ethics of documenting such sacred ceremonial knowledge.

"I feel the spirit of the people and a connection with mother earth in my heart when I run." These are the thoughts of 16-year-old Veronica Charter, a gold medallist at the North American Indigenous Games. Award-winning filmmaker Annie Frazier Henry follows an elite handful of Aboriginal athletes from British Columbia for two years as they make their way to the 2002 North American Indigenous Games in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Here over 6,000 young Native sportsmen and women from across Canada and the United States come to compete. It is an exhilarating journey of achievement, dedication and hardship. Spirit of the Game is a tribute to the ones who are rekindling the fire and glory of sport, for whether they win or lose, they all come home heroes.

Diabetes has reached epidemic proportions among Indigenous peoples in Canada. Poor dietary habits, coupled with a sedentary lifestyle, have led to high incidences of obesity. These factors are believed to play a pivotal role in the onset of diabetes. Add to this the ever-increasing costs of drugs and treatments for a disease that has no cure and, clearly, a health crisis is close at hand. Ojibway filmmaker Brion Whitford lives with the pain of advanced diabetes. In 2001, complications from the disease left him with only 50 percent kidney function and blood sugar levels that were spiralling out of control. Having been raised in the city, Whitford grew up without knowing his culture or heritage. Consequently, he had little faith in traditional Indigenous medicine and healing. But the more his health deteriorated, the deeper his interest grew in connecting with his own culture and traditions. The Gift of Diabetes follows Whitford's struggle to regain his health by learning about The Medicine Wheel, a holistic tool grounded in an Indigenous understanding of the interconnectedness of all dimensions of life: the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. He also explores how the historical trauma of colonization continues to exert a negative influence over Indigenous people's psychological and physical well-being. Only by making peace with this fact and his own troubled past can he move forward to a healthier and better life. Whitford's journey is a moving account of a man coming to grips with his own mortality, while trying to re-establish balance in his life.

This documentary records the passing of a tradition of the Shotah Dene of the Northwest Territories. For many generations, the Shotah Dene built mooseskin boats each spring, from dried hides and sinew, to carry their families and cargo down the mountain rivers to trading settlements such as Fort Norman. Gabe Etchinelle returns to the mountains of his youth to build one last mooseskin boat, now preserved in a museum in Yellowknife, a tribute to an earlier way of life.

My father was born in a spring igloo-half snow, half skin. I was born in a hospital, with jaundice and two teeth. Inuit artist Asinnajaq plunges us into a sublime imaginary universe-14 minutes of luminescent, archive-inspired cinema that recast the present, past and future of her people in a radiant new light. Diving into the NFB's vast archive, she parses the complicated cinematic representation of the Inuit, harvesting fleeting truths and fortuitous accidents from a range of sources-newsreels, propaganda, ethnographic docs, and work by Indigenous filmmakers. Embedding historic footage into original animation, she conjures up a vision of hope and beautiful possibility.

A day in the lives of Indigenous students at N'Swakamok Alternative School, Places to Gather and Learn emphasizes the value and necessity of Indigenous alternative and community spaces. This short follows students as they learn and share their stories, aspirations, obstacles and accomplishments.

Since its inception in 1976, Toronto Council Fire Native Cultural Centre has been a place in which the urban Indigenous community could feel safe, learn and grow. Council Fire uses cultural teachings and creates space to restore Indigenous identity, especially for its youth. At the core of Council Fire's history and teachings is the drum, which they refer to as "our mother." In Full Circle, we get to know the members of the Toronto Council Fire Youth Program as they embark on new journeys.

Some Stories follows a group of Indigenous youth from the Nipissing (Nbisiing) region who come together through the North Bay Indigenous Friendship Centre and explore the importance and impact of stories in their lives.

Long before Canada became a country, every nation on Turtle Island had its own unique version of a stick-ball game. The most popular one on this continent has always been lacrosse, a game that was gifted to the First Nations by the birds and four-legged animals, and played for centuries as a medicine game. This short film explores how the medicine game that has been passed down from generation to generation by the Haudenasaunee at the Fort Erie Native Friendship Centre is helping to revive their cultures and restore their communities.