The Prince of Wales Heritage Centre's efforts to celebrate Heritage Day and kick-off the United Nation's recognition of the Year of the Older Person couldn't come at a better time.
Our city's gold mines face the worst prices in decades. Con remains on strike while Royal Oak weathers a severe financial crisis. As we near the year, 2000 our city is in for great change.
All the more reason not to lose sight of the reason we're here in the first place -- the pioneers who built Yellowknife.
Take Yellowknife's Rose Smith as a living example. Rose braved it all when she came here in 1939 at the age of 23 with her husband Arnold.
Arnold soon began pouring gold bricks for Negus while Rose found no shortage of challenges as she, living in what was known as Negus Village, sacrificed plenty to raise the couple's seven children.
In effect it was this couple, together with the other young Northerners who settled here, who would help form the foundation of the city we know today.
The fact that Smith, now widowed and 83, still continues to enjoy living in Yellowknife after 60 years, illustrates a spirit of survival we can all learn from.
And now, as we head into the unfamiliar world of division and diamond mining, it seems only natural to pay tribute to these people that were so instrumental in the early days.
Without them, there wouldn't be the flag-raising ceremony held at the legislature on Monday night, when 15 new Yellowknifers, or "new pioneers" as they were referred to, were sworn in as Canadian citizens.
City council should really take a look at why there hasn't been any move to develop the downtown property located between Franklin Avenue and the Centre Square Mall.
This property has been called an eyesore. From the street, it doesn't look so bad -- a white fence painted with charming murals. The fence, however, hides a mini wasteland.
It's really too bad. This property is located smack dab in the middle of town, so one would think there would be tonnes of developers clamoring to buy it.
There hasn't been enough emphasis on development in Yellowknife, a fact that's baffling because of the diamond industry opening up. This isn't the only property in the city that's been overlooked. It's a shame to see it go to waste.
Yellowknifers may soon be wearing dark glasses and doing the talk show circuit. This is the usual follow-up to television stardom.
Recently one of the stars of TSN's Canadian Sportfishing show appeared on air demonstrating his skill at catching pike in the area.
This follows closely on the announcement that the British television travel series Lonely Planet will be in town in March to film Caribou Carnival.
While Yellowknifers have always been aware of the photogenic qualities of their neighbourhood here in the North, it is good to see somebody spreading the word.
Tourism is the world's biggest growth industry. Yellowknife needs to do more to catch its share of the market and a little international television exposure can't hurt.
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
Maybe I was just lucky, or maybe it was growing up in Cape Breton, whatever the case, for most of my life I was pretty much sheltered from dealing with stereotyping, classification by creed and, dare I say it, racism.
In fact, looking back, I always felt the worst possible thing to do was to acknowledge the incessant ramblings of such people, kind of along the same lines and writing books or making Hollywood movies on the heinous actions of serial killers.
For most of my life, I couldn't understand those who got upset over such terms as mic, spic, fairy, herring choker, jar head, whatever. Even out West in my early 20s listening to then Calgary Mayor Ralph Klein telling all us job stealing Easterners to go home, Calgary didn't want us, I wasn't upset. Everyone is entitled to their opinion and how seriously can you take someone who doesn't realize the hardships others face to begin with?
That all started to change for me a couple of years back and I've found I'm no more thick-skinned than anyone else when it comes to being categorized by the colour of my skin, or, what disturbs me even more, by the language I speak -- which is, coincidentally, one of the two official languages here in my own country.
About two years ago, I was asked to come out and play goaltender for a competitive men's team in Timmins, Ontario. As it turns out, I was the only anglophone on a team of francophones, but, I can honestly say, that didn't bother me.
We were fortunate enough to rattle off seven straight wins after I joined the club and I felt pretty comfortable with my spot on the team, even though I understood little more than hi, how ya' doing when I'd come to the rink. That all changed when I showed up for game eight.
I knew something was up the second I entered the arena and my teammates who were watching the earlier game by the glass took off for the dressing room the second they laid eyes on me. I dropped my gear and decided I'd watch a bit of the game and wait to see what happened. I didn't have long to wait.
A few moments later the coach came out and, after ushering me off to a quiet corner of the rink, told me the team would have to let me go because I didn't speak French. He said although he understood it didn't bother me not understanding what was going on in the dressing room, some of the players were feeling uncomfortable because of all the English jokes being told in my presence.
As it turns out, some of "the guys" were getting a big kick out of putting down my culture right in front of me, knowing I couldn't understand a word.
The whole experience stung and was one I will never forget. In my own country I've been labelled a worthless Easterner, an unwanted English guy, a jar head while in the infantry, a leech since I joined the ranks of the media and now I'm one more Kabloona in the North.
Funny thing though, I still look like the same guy when I shave in the morning. A damn proud Canadian!