We got a rare glimpse into the life of a GNWT negotiator last week, in a candid conversation with Partick Scott, who resigned his position over ethical differences with his employer.

Scott sought and gained the respect of the Dogribs, but that was quickly lost when the bureaucracy reneged on a deal.

Reprimanded for speaking his mind, Scott turned down the fat paycheck in favour of a clear conscience.

If only the government had the same courage. We have yet to hear from our "open and transparent government" regarding Mr. Scott's remarks.

It comes as good news to trappers that the fashion industry has once again embraced fur.

After decades of slumping prices, the few trappers who stuck it out on the line, may get their bonus this year as fur takes to the fashion runways around the world.

The relief comes just in time to salvage what was once a multi-million dollar industry. Pressure from animal rights activists and declining markets reduced the total value of fur sold in the NWT. In the 1987-78 season, fur brought in over $5 million compared to just over $750,000 ten years later.

The fight over fur isn't over. Pressure to push through the proposed Bill C-17 with amendments to animal cruelty laws may bring new problems in the industry as animal rights activists attempt to impose their definition of 'cruelty' on the courts.

Trappers have adopted the Conibear quick-kill trap to counter the claims of cruelty. Let's hope it's enough to satiate the zealous finger-pointers who nearly destroyed a way of life.

The past ten years have given designers time to re-tool and re-design for the next generation, but many trappers have sought other work.

While old timers and a handful of die-hards continue to work their lines, a generation has been coaxed into the mines and the oil patch where jobs promise a real income.

With the renewed interest in fur, perhaps we'll see a new generation of trappers pick up the thread.

Last month, a group of women stormed a wildlife symposium in Iqaluit because they were tired of being left out of yet another decision-making process.

The issue they were excluded from this time around was the assignment of harvesting rights.

Led by Iqaluit resident Rebecca Williams, the group said if wildlife officials in the Nunavut territory planned to continue developing policies and procedures governing the issue of assignment, it was time for those officials to actually consult the people involved.

What a grand and noble idea. Indeed, it's reminiscent of the days when Inuit first began to demand sovereignty and control over their lives, of the days when Inuit wanted the federal and territorial governments to stop treating them like children.

Williams and her sidekicks are asking for the same thing. Rather than having predominantly male groups continue to call the shots on how, when or to whom women can assign their rights under the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement, the group wants the people affected to have input in developing assignment procedures.

To have denied Inuit women or Inuit elders or differently-abled Inuit the right to have equal say on the matter in the past was wrong. To suggest or assume that these groups of people would be careless with their harvesting rights and or that they run the risk of assigning their rights without first thinking it through was even more wrong and exactly the kind of sentiment that fostered the need for a land claim in the first place.

Williams said the wildlife officials at the symposium listened to her group. If those officials -- now called the wildlife policy advisory committee -- don't include women and other interested parties, their actions will be as offensive and shameful as the governments of yesterday.

Amidst claims and concerns that the government isn't doing enough to ensure Inuktitut is used in schools, Qikiqtani School Services published the first-ever dictionary printed entirely in Inuktitut, in the Tununiq dialect.

The book has already been distributed to schools in the Baffin region, meaning no time was wasted in getting it printed and into use.

Now students can work in their own language and have a reference book to help them along when they are stumped.

The project was mammoth indeed, with 15,000 entries, but one that will be well appreciated by elders and generations to come.

There are few enough heroes in the world that it's fitting the ones we do have are honoured far and wide.

Members of the Dogrib First Nation -- and perhaps most people who live in the Great Slave Lake region -- know the name Elizabeth MacKenzie.

It belongs to more than just a school; it is the name of a respected elder who has done much to preserve Dogrib language and culture.

MacKenzie is revered by her people and now she's received the wider recognition she deserves: being named recipient of the Governor General's Award.

Her example is one that all -- not just aboriginal people -- can learn from: that it takes passion, dedication and energy to preserve culture and language.