Kakfwi used his swan song to review the high points of his career. He came to prominence during the Berger inquiry, served as leader of the Dene Nation and a minister in the territorial government.
He is leaving the NWT in good shape and at the top of his game, he said. It would be hard to argue otherwise. Diamond mines are pumping up the economy, a Mackenzie Valley pipeline seems certain, First Nations are setting their own agendas.
Kakfwi is also well regarded in the nation's power centres. That helps when the federal government cuts the pie. In one of those miraculous coincidences of politics, Ottawa announced money for job training, roads and bridges in the North just days after Kakfwi rocked voters with his news.
Kakfwi's term as premier was not without problems. The auditor general criticized the severance package he gave to his chief of staff in the wake of the Jane Groenewegen conflict of interest debacle.
His government has been absent from the debate on same-sex marriages and marijuana, as if the Northwest Territories is somehow isolated from the rest of Canada.
Kakfwi was an ardent defender of consensus governance, but not always its best practitioner. Business and industry lobbyists complained about being left out of the loop and he seemed to forget that he owed it to voters to consult them on devolution.
That self-isolation may explain why Kakfwi went from going public in his interest in a second term as premier to announcing his retirement. He would have been the first to serve two terms, but it's a difficult job that demands an ability to forge compromise from competing agendas.
Kakfwi's farewell statement did not rule out a return to political life. If Liberal MP Ethel Blondin Andrew changes her mind about running again in the Western Arctic, they could be back before the last echo of his swan song fades away.
His return will be most welcome.
Many things can happen within the walls of a correctional facility.
Time can be served out quietly, lives can be lost, lessons can be learned.
Where freedom is denied, and the strongest hands cannot tear through barbed wire and concrete, big ideas often flourish.
Last week, an inmate with big ideas called News/North to complain about the way Inuit are treated inside the Baffin Correctional Centre facility.
We listened to his side of the story because we felt it was one important side of an ever-evolving story about the BCC and the state of corrections in Nunavut today.
News/North has done profiles of new programs at the BCC, stories about the Inuit art produced there, deaths investigated there. We have even profiled a female corrections officer.
But when inmates speak about conditions inside their jail, it is like the sharpening of a knife. There is an edge to such remarks, and we proceed cautiously.
We looked into complaints being made by inmate Mikidjuk Utye.
On one hand, he is a known complainer, an annoyance to many.
He contacts media when he can to get support for his various causes.
On another hand, his complaints about ill treatment and troubled Inuit offenders being misunderstood and not healing properly are not surprising to people who have fought for better conditions inside our prisons.
The thin edge of the wedge for prison officials is, Utye has a point.
Beneath his bluster, Utye believes jail gives offenders an opportunity to change their ways -- jail is a place where a person can actually heal.
This is one of those big ideas that corrections officials talk about at meetings, and give a lot of lip service to, but are not currently practising.
Utye is calling for that healing, and he thinks it can start with something as simple as country food served at the BCC once a week.
'Jail is not a country club,' you want to yell at him. 'You are incarcerated. Deal with it. Prison is no picnic.' Deep down, you feel good that offenders are locked away and being punished.
They broke the law -- they hurt your mother, your father, your sister, stole something, lied, cheated, or killed someone. Who cares if they do not get country food you think?
But what about the healing? What about the Inuit way? Are we a forgiving people? Do we in Nunavut believe we can help offenders so they do not, as Utye claims, keep going back to jail again and again?
The inmates at BCC are not in a maximum security prison. There is hope for every single of one of them. Utye believes that.
If our corrections officials truly believed that, too, then maybe they would make the BCC not just like any minimum security jail in Canada, but a shining light, better, more enlightened -- in a way, more Inuit.
Maybe we would start something. Maybe we could have the finest prison system in Canada, one other provinces and territories would want to copy.
Maybe the Inuit way, even locked between the walls of a prison, is a better way.
It is worth a try.
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
To hear some of the rhetoric being tossed around, you would think the Nunavut education system was in a total state of disarray, with precious little working in its favour.
This is simply not the case.
Yes, there is still plenty of work to be done.
We must continue to raise our number of graduates, and we must ensure those graduating are academically deserving of their high school diplomas.
We will save our thoughts on curriculum development and Inuktitut as the primary language of instruction for another day.
All that being said, education in Nunavut is still taking positive steps forward.
When I first arrived in the Kivalliq in the late 1990s, I would ask students near graduation -- as I still do today -- about their future plans.
At that time, the vast majority of answers centred around hamlet jobs such as vehicle driving or reception-type positions, the local Co-op or Northern store and the ever-popular government job.
Of course, the working for the government line was quite generic in nature, and rarely came with any specific vocation in mind, let alone one viewed as upper- or mid-management spots.
Even more rare, were students who planed to attend post-secondary institutions, especially those outside the boundaries of Nunavut.
More grads college bound
Fast-forward to students graduating in the Kivalliq region during the past two years, and attending some form of post-secondary training is a common response.
We now have graduates trying to become pilots, working towards their master's degrees in business and education, training to become nurses, becoming master chefs and, yes, even pro athletes.
Now, let's be crystal clear about two points.
First, this editorial is not intended to downplay the significant contribution those who work in the various hamlet offices and retail outlets make to our communities.
However, it takes a lot more to run a successful, self-sufficient territory than retail and hamlet workers.
Second, despite the numerous challenges that still lie ahead, our education system is no lame-duck operation churning out graduates who major in comic book reading.
The list of Kivalliq graduates moving on to bigger things continues to grow in most communities every year.
Hopefully, the choices made in the ongoing development of our-made-in- Nunavut education plan will be based on practical applications and not the romantic idealism of a time long past.
If so, the next decade will see an ever-increasing number of successful post-secondary graduates come home to help Nunavut grow and prosper.
If not, keep the doors to the water truck open!
Editorial Comment
Terry Halifax
Inuvik Drum
I have never had such a response to anything I've written as with the bit headlined "These kids are brats" (Inuvik Drum Sept. 11).
A month later and I'm still having people stop me to comment on that and the letters from Ms. Young's class certainly underlined that a nerve was struck.
Reading those letters got me thinking about my school days, the way I felt about the world and just how I spent a lot of my free time.
The words these kids used took me back to those angst-ridden days when we all thought the world didn't care that we were bored.
I was no angel growing up -- my parents will attest to that -- but I wasn't going around ripping down basketball hoops either and I'd like to believe I always said, "please and thank you."
We didn't have a youth centre in my hometown and my friends and I wasted a lot of time playing crib and drinking coffee, until they kicked us out of the only coffee shop in town.
We wiled away hours standing on street corners stomping our frozen boots together, telling jokes and singing four, five and six-part harmony.
Yes, my friends and I wasted a lot of time and perpetually complained that there was nothing to do, but rather than tearing things down, I remember building things up.
Cabins in the bush and go carts to race down hills or getting greasy in a friend's garage, while we discovered the wonders of internal combustion.
Let them wear overalls
Two guys I knew smashed up some planters downtown one night and were swiftly brought to justice. The judge ordered them to about a million hours community service, to be performed right downtown.
That whole summer, we'd walk by the convicted delinquents Curtis and Jawbone and razz them while they painted the seemingly-endless yellow line around the downtown sidewalk.
Having their shame on public display for the rest of us sure brought the point home that vandalism is not a cool thing and I think it would be a great lesson for kids here.
Put a couple of these little brats to work downtown in bright orange coveralls and I guarantee you'll see the vandalism drop off to nil in this town.
I know there are more good kids than bad in this town and the majority should be working to make their world a better place rather than shrugging it off on police and parents.
There are scores of good parents with bad kids and lots of good kids with bad parents too, so I don't recognize parenting alone as an excuse for hooliganism or disrespect.
Young people are provided with all types of excuses to act up -- I know because I used them myself. "Peer pressure" was a great cure-all excuse, even when I was a kid.
Young people know the difference between right and wrong and there are no excuses for vandalism or even bad manners. Setting kids up with excuses is only setting them up for failure.
Excuses might get them through some minor scrapes in life, but they won't work in the real world; be it on the job or in front of the judge.
Editorial Comment
Derek Neary
Deh Cho Drum
Leaders from small communities often claim that their little towns are at a disadvantage. They frequently struggle for recognition and a share of the pot when funding is doled out. Sometimes they don't have the financial or human resources to keep programs and services running optimally.
So why is it that some small communities insist on making matters worse by engaging in family feuds? Nahanni Butte has recently been embroiled in a skirmish for power based largely on familial lines (There may be other factors for the upheaval but they are only unsubstantiated allegations at this point).
It's happened before. Political strife exists among families in West Point as it did in Colville Lake two years ago.
It seems that the Dene principles of respect and sharing go out the window when it comes to governance in some tiny towns.
If residents can't set aside differences within their own community then how are they going to accomplish anything?
That said, Nahanni Butte's latest initiative to form a band council comprising appointed family delegates could prove effective, if enough residents buy into the concept. It would bring members of each clan to the table. By doing so, everyone's interests should be represented. There will still be disagreements, of course. Perhaps alliances will form among some families. But it's an experiment with historical foundations, an experiment that just might work again. It will be interesting to monitor the results in the months to come.
Flipping out
The BMX competition in Fort Simpson on Saturday was just what the doctor ordered for local youth. Fortunately the doctor wasn't called upon to mend any of the competitors, who pulled off some jaw-dropping, eye-popping stunts.
Yes, it can be a dangerous activity. There have been a few teens hobbling around town as a result of past BMX accidents. Others have sported casts on their arms. But the point is they are doing it anyway, usually in places that are not nearly as safe as the sand-covered arena floor.
Many kids today talk endlessly about the X games (X as in "extreme"), where BMX riders and skateboarders engage in amazing feats of bravado. Local teens had their own version of the X games in Fort Simpson on Saturday and they loved it.
Kudos to the parents who came out and watched, some of them undoubtedly with their hearts in their throats.
Fort Simpson also played host to a more conventional sporting event last week. The community welcomed participants in the NWT Cross-Country Running Championships for the first time. By many accounts it went very well, thanks in no small part to the volunteers.