It's great something is finally being done. It's even better the federal government is coming up with the $200 million needed for the next 10-15 years to make the hockey rink-style chiller a reality.
It's even going to create a few jobs -- never a bad thing.
The problem is the senior Ottawa bureaucrats who made the decision may have forgotten an old axiom: Nothing is forever.
The fact the toxic dust will remain where it is means the chance for trouble doesn't go away.
A century from now, the dust will still be just as deadly. Will the chilling equipment used to keep the arsenic at -2 C still be working as well by then?
Will anyone remember why money needs to be spent maintaining that equipment or will it eventually vanish from the federal balance sheet?
Yellowknifers must never allow Ottawa to forget its responsibilities to the hazardous site -- both financial and the moral.
The alternative is just too chilling to consider.
When a home for people mental health problems was proposed for Rycon Drive, neighbourhood residents could have said "no thanks, put it somewhere else."
Instead, they said "tell us more."
They want to ensure their neighbourhood will continue to be the same warm, inviting and safe place they know. Those are the same qualities that make Rycon a perfect place for persons with disabilities to live the kinds of lives the "rest of us" do.
Yellowknife must not revert to the bad old days when people -- afflicted by physical ailments, mental ailments or those who simply have had trouble in their lives -- get shunted off to some broken down warehouse shelter-cum-prison.
We need houses for special needs people to be in neighbourhoods. We can't with any good conscience just write "these people" off.
Perhaps what is also needed is a fuller system of, first, information; and second, accountability.
We suggest a more thorough method to get information about these special houses to the neighbourhoods.
As the house works, area residents need to know there's a method to handle complaints or concerns.
Let's make this work.
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
For those of you who may not know, let me say right up front that away from the office I eat, sleep and drink the game of hockey.
And, if you'd like to discuss my views, you can find me at the Rankin arena all this weekend and next, or catch up with me later at any of the remaining hockey tournaments in the Kivalliq region.
Although I now find myself closer to 50 than 40 years of age, I still love the game enough to referee about 80 games or more each year.
So, where am I going with all this?
Well, there's been much discussion the past two weeks on the incident between Columbus Blue Jacket player Tyler Wright and our own Jordin Tootoo.
Not much of the talk has been on whether anyone believes Wright's claim that Tootoo bit his pinky during a scrum along the boards in a recent game.
Rather, the talk has focused on whether Wright is a racist for his remark about how Northerners eat.
Well, I'm here to tell you -- coming from a guy who has spent most of his life around hockey rinks -- players will say anything in the heat of the moment.
I'm not defending the "banter" that often goes down between rivals (especially hard-nosed players), I'm simply stating it's commonplace and rarely racist in nature.
Yes, there have been racist comments made in pro sports, we all know that.
But, we also know Tootoo has received far more publicity that the average rookie and that's not going to endear him to every NHLer.
Wright's remark was more of a reflection on the publicity surrounding Tootoo's heritage, rather than any form of racial slur.
Let's face it, Wright would be lucky to find Rankin Inlet on a map, let alone know anything about our eating habits up here.
The worst I've heard
How far do players take it on the ice? Well, I was recently asked at the arena about the worst I've ever heard and here is my answer.
Those easily offended may want to turn the page.
A young senior mens referee once fell in love with a young woman who did not share his feelings.
She broke up with him and the young ref (who we'll call Jimmy) was quite upset.
Jimmy decided to end it all, filled his bathtub with water, plugged in his portable heater and jumped in.
But, it wasn't to be.
The heater cord wasn't long enough and came out of the socket before he hit the water.
After a bit of a supervised rest, "Jimmy" returned to hockey.
Shortly after, he was working as a linesman and positioned at the blue-line in front of a players bench.
One player leaned in just enough so the young ref could hear him and politely asked, "Hey Jimmy, wanna' good deal on an extension cord?"
A great guy who would never say such a thing away from the rink , the player just couldn't resist the comment at his local arena.
We are not justifying Wright's remarks, as personal taunts really have no place in sports.
However, they do occur, especially in pro hockey, and Wright is guilty of nothing more than poor sportsmanship and bad judgement.
And, we're sure Mr. Tootoo will point out the error of his ways with a little "talk" of his own the next time the two teams meet.
Editorial Comment
Jason Unrau
Inuvik Drum
I think the rolling channel should be renamed the Bingo Advisory Network for its up-to-the-dabber broadcasts of the coming contests. At the risk of treading on the sacred cow of bingo, the following was a revelation that came to me recently.
Previous to my Northern sojourn, I had always been under the impression that bingo halls were the havens of elderly women who had lost all hope, save for the chance that today might be their lucky day.
This feeling can be traced back to when, as a boy of 10, my grandmother took me to one of her bingo sessions. Even to this day, while unable to understand the allure of this pastime, I remember marvelling at how Grandma managed to play what seemed like dozens of cards simultaneously and partake in conversation with several of her bingo pals.
Similar to other modes of gambling, playing bingo can provide a social outlet, in addition to satisfying the need to feel -- for those brief hours -- that one's ship will come in; if not this time, then there's always next week.
Psychological explanations aside, however, the sheer fundraising potential bingo can offer an organization is all the more reason to encourage staging more of them. But, before we all get carried away and march to town hall demanding an increase in the number of bingo licenses, we should take a moment for contemplation.
Sure, the proceeds from bingo in Inuvik help to pay for a lot of worthwhile activities, and this fact alone is a pretty convincing argument against the position that any form of gambling is a social ill that we could do without. But will the reservoir from which the bingo vines are nurtured ever run dry? Or will there come a time when Inuvik residents are entranced by an epic bingo contest in which all proceeds go to funding, of all things, a treatment centre?
Though quite ridiculous, my fictional bingo-for-treatment-centre scenario helps to illustrate the point that it may be time to look at other ways to raise money.
When I was in high school, if the team needed new uniforms or wanted to charter a bus for the next tournament, the team went into the community and worked for the money -- washing cars, mowing lawns. Or, the moms and dads would pony-up the cash.
There was no magical lottery-slushfund -- and even if there were, the "moral-majority" where I grew up would have done all in its power to quash such activities because gambling is a sin.
Certainly, the point of the above recollection is not to criticize how any non-profit organization in town gets their funding or to malign the bingo faithful.
However, look at it another way: take, for instance, the local economy and the theory of the "bouncing buck", whereby every dollar spent in the community stays in the community and hopefully does a bit more bouncing along the way.
Going by the figures for the last Inuvik Ice Devils bingo, a little more than 40 cents on the dollar went to the team while the rest was awarded to a few lucky people. Though a lot of money was raised, the bucks didn't bounce so much as they diminished.
When both the Ingamo Hall Society President and the Ingamo Hall Youth Council write town hall to request an extension to the Christmas Bingo Blackout -- citing the financial strain holiday bingo can have on families -- one has to wonder if the day will come when Inuvik society is divided into two classes; those that play bingo and those whose well-being depends on those that play.
Editorial Comment
Andrew Raven
Deh Cho Drum
With each passing day, the prospect of winter work for the Mackenzie Valley Pipeline gets more and more remote.
Imperial Oil and the rest of the companies involved in the project offered the Liidlii Kue First Nation a total of $12,000 in return for permission to carry out the work, which is essentially soil testing and geological surveys at this point.
Similar offers --which band council member Dennis Nelner described as an "insult"-- were made to other communities along the Mackenzie Valley.
While the $12,000 doesn't amount to much more than pocket change, Imperial Oil did offer 12 of the 14 winter work contracts to communities along the Mackenzie Valley.
Outwardly, it doesn't seem like a horrible offer but the LKFN and the Pipeline Working Group have Imperial Oil firmly strapped over a barrel and are playing hardball, multinational-corporation style.
Most of the surveying and soil testing is easier to do in the winter, so an environmental review could postpone the project until next year, to the ire of Imperial Oil.
For years, companies and governments have appropriated resources from traditional aboriginal lands, successfully out manoeuvring the local authorities.
Now the situation is reversed and the LKFN is deftly using bureaucracy to get the best deal possible for its people.
It's a tactic any major corporation would be proud of.