 |
There are lies, damned lies and statistics. Or so the saying goes. The city's recent gaffe pegging Yellowknife's population at 20,000 is one of the reasons why people don't always believe the stats they read.
But why should anyone care, especially since the bureau of statistics can only guess at the number of people who currently call Yellowknife home (somewhere in the neighbourhood of 18,000).
Let's take it from a different perspective. Round up your personal income to the next highest number and you'll soon find yourself hunted by debt collectors.
Guess that you have 20 litres of gasoline in your tank and you'll end up walking sooner than expected.
Imagine that you have enough clean underwear to last seven days when you only have enough for five, and ... well, you get the idea.
Let's hope the clouds blow over and the sun shines this weekend for the 21st annual Folk on the Rocks!
Rain or shine, locals and visitors have a chance to enjoy the North's biggest, outdoor, weekend-long musical extravaganza.
From children's entertainers, to rock, folk, blues, celtic, hip hop, Northern drummers and throat singing to a didgeridoo, as always organizers will have little trouble pleasing the crowds that flock to the site to take in the festival.
Kick back and listen to the incredible assortment of music offered this year. Don't be surprised if you can't sit still.
And don't forget the bug dope.
In June, kidney recipient Greg Loftus, a.k.a. "Cominco," and a friend paddled from Fort Providence to Inuvik to raise funds for the Kidney Foundation of Northern Alberta and the NWT.
We congratulate Loftus for his initiative to give something back, but he should especially be applauded for his determination to keep the $12,000 raised so far in the NWT.
Loftus has decided to establish a designated fund within the Kidney Foundation specifically to help Northerners 18 to 24 years old suffering from kidney disease.
It's initiatives like this that will make the North strong and less dependent on the south for its services. Keep up the good work, Greg.
Since the Liquor Commission is looking for input into where the city's second alcohol vendor should be located, we'll offer our two cents worth.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the only logical place is somewhere south of Frame Lake. Not downtown. Not down by the Old Town float bases, but out where a good portion of the city's population has set up house.
Another liquor store in the downtown area would make little sense, and the population of Old Town just can't compare with that of the southern suburbs.
Of course, there are still sound arguments that one store is enough for Yellowknife, given the problems associated with the products it sells. But that's no longer up for debate.
Let's make the best of the situation and let the market determine the site.
Editorial Comment
Malcolm Gorrill
Inuvik Drum
The Great Northern Arts Festival gallery features a host of valuable and beautiful artwork. It's amazing to walk through it all for the first time.
It's even more amazing to walk through for the second, or third, time, and really see how striking a certain carving is, or how beautiful a certain painting is. It's clear that a lot of work went into each piece. It's also clear the festival attracts a lot of talented artists from all over.
Many of the artists have talked about the friendly spirit that's always present at the festival, as well as what a great opportunity this is for artists to meet old friends, make new ones, and exchange ideas.
This event may encourage artists to try new techniques in the near future, and will serve to inspire them to keep plugging away at their craft.
If the event serves to help artists in a variety of ways, the festival is also valuable for local residents and visitors. This is a rare opportunity to see such a large collection of art from such a wide area. And it's not just that the artists are far apart geographically.
There are many, many different art forms on display, from painting to carving (with many materials), and from beading to print-making.
Then there's the entertainment, which organizers say has grown over the last few years. Since opening night lots of musicians have been playing a variety of instruments at both official and impromptu functions.
All of which adds to the whole experience for artists and fans alike.
Speaking of which, the Tuktoyaktuk Drummers and Dancers performed in front of a large crowd Saturday evening, and did an incredible job. Kudos to them, as well as other performers taking part in the festival.
Behind the scenes
Events like the Great Northern Arts Festival don't just happen by chance.
Someone has to operate the till, help out in the kitchen or gallery and run the uncounted number of errands necessary to keep things running smoothly. Volunteers account for much of this much needed, if under appreciated, work.
At least 60 people are volunteering at this year's festival. Some have come from great distances just so they could volunteer here. Kudos to those donating their time to help make the festival a more enjoyable experience. It's safe to say it couldn't operate well without their help.
Editorial Comment
Dave Sullivan
Deh Cho Drum, Fort Simpson
There is a feeling that it may finally be Fort Simpson's turn to capture some of the prosperity that is blowing through other Northern communities.
A renewed interest in unlocking Fort Simpson's economic potential is a step in the right direction. But it could be that nothing big will happen until the Deh Cho self-government process spells out how to divvy up the resources between aboriginal and other governments.
At the Deh Cho assembly in Kakisa last month, Dene Chief Bill Erasmus was critical of the time it will take to reach a final agreement on resource control through the Deh Cho process. He could think of no reason for talks to take an estimated seven to 10 years.
Negotiators may be able to think of plenty of reasons, including the number of billable hours they can invoice clients over a decade.
Deh Cho First Nations hope to gain full control over resources, and that probably doesn't matter a bit to exploration companies.
Dealings with oil companies over the past two years suggest they don't mind paying large royalties. There is plenty of money to go around as long as prices stay in the stratosphere. They also don't care who they pay, as long as the rules are consistent.
Is the minister listening?
It could be that Health Minister Jane Groenewegen is listening to the Deh Cho Health and Social Services Board. Late Monday, her office announced a two-week extension for the board and others to respond to sweeping changes in the health care system that were recommended by Edmonton consultant George Cuff.
Reducing the number of health regions and boards from nine to three is the the main recommendation that would affect the Deh Cho region. The local board would be no more.
Board members and others had complained there was not enough time to examine the wordy document. One politician even demanded a plain-English summary of the report's 62-page executive summary.
Public comment will now be received until Aug. 15.
Editorial Comment
Jorge Barrera
Kivalliq News
My second night in Rankin Inlet I ate goose and drank the broth. Like a slow fever it coursed through my limbs and I was warm. I'll never forget that.
I've sat long on the slope behind the community arena and stared at the curvature of the earth, the sky bending like a great arc over the horizon, holding the longest sunsets, the blades of the windmill frozen, a white silhouette against the purple sky at the edge of the runway.
Summer came in spurts during my brief five-week stay here on the shores of the Hudson Bay but I've never seen snow in July.
This is my last editorial and five weeks wasn't long enough. At this moment it's difficult to think of what I liked best about my stay here. Is it the people I've met? The landscape? The square dances?
Right now out my window the sky is overcast and the hum of Hondas come and go, a constant murmur always in the background as a deadline looms and my flight leaves in an hour and a half. Small memories from a brief time come in jumbles and pile like toys dumped from a box.
All I know is this place can woo you, cut the knees from under you and make you cry.
This land at the end of things, on the edge of the world, with its brief summers, burning springs and long winters and its caribou herds, whales, seals, the caravan of Hondas on the weekly Friday exodus to cabins scattered from here to the Diand River and beyond. The tundra flowers like droplets splattered from a paint brush, blue, reds, yellows, over the green of tundra, easy to miss.
I remember sitting in an elders' living room as he explained the art of the harpoon. He held it in his hand, perfectly balanced, describing the seal hunt in Inuktitut and I didn't understand a word. When the translation came I knew it was different. The hunt I heard in English was not the same hunt the elder described in Inuktitut.
There's a whole other world in which this seal hunt existed that lies in the space between stones and sky, known only to those who understand the language. Not just Inuktitut, but the language of this place.
It is this mystery that creates the magic of the land that lives in the perception of a people who sprung from its earth. It is something I can never know, only sense like some faraway smell in memory, but it is the one thing I'll remember from my stay in Rankin Inlet.