Monday, December 20, 2004
Nunavut has seen examples of both types of behaviour within the past month.
In Pond Inlet, the community actively helped police lay charges in 12 break-ins.
Because of tips provided by residents, there are currently no unsolved break-and-enters in the community.
Police say that without this help, they would not have solved the cases as quickly, if at all.
Those charges were laid because the detachment worked hard to get to know residents on a personal level.
The importance of open communication between police and the members of the community should not be underestimated.
Over in Kugluktuk, police say that parents of children involved in break-ins at the Co-op -- where thousands of dollars in damage was done -- have knowingly kept silent.
The RCMP eventually found out who the culprits were, but how much more damage could have been prevented had parents spoken up?
Both of these situations make it clear to us the cops are doing what they can to combat crime, but they cannot do it alone.
It is understandable that the parents in Kugluktuk do not want to see their children get into trouble, but staying quiet while they commit crimes is the wrong way to help.
Many officers admit they do not know the community as well as those who have lived there all their lives.
Residents know who is doing what, who is helping, and who is hurting.
It is with the help of those people that the RCMP will truly solve Nunavut's problem with crime.
So how can the Kugluktuk detachment get the help needed from the community?
In the new year, the detachment plans to start giving weekly talks at school, as well as spending more time hanging out with the youth.
They are also looking into starting a DARE program, and getting even more involved in community events.
We applaud and encourage these plans.
Every week we talk to Nunavummiut who are skeptical of the RCMP, often because of things which happened in the past.
Police officers around Nunavut may be doing the best they can, but these feelings of skepticism are real.
As the situation in Pond Inlet shows, only a partnership between an RCMP detachment and the community it serves will get the job done.
The future of the Dogrib has been placed squarely into their own hands.
With the passing of the Tlicho Act in the House of Commons earlier this month, the Dogrib have regained sovereignty over their lives and 39,000 square-kilometres of land.
With this land and self-government agreement also comes control over education and health dollars. The significance of this step likely hasn't hit home with individual Dogrib. Some even admit being confused and even a little bit afraid over what it all means. Leaders who have worked hard to achieve the agreement have more work to do: to implement the agreement and make sure it's understood by all.
First and most importantly, it means federal and territorial bureaucrats will have to loosen their grip as Dogrib assert their new-found powers. Secondly, it means a new level of accountability between leaders and their communities. No more are decisions driven by political masters in far away Ottawa.
Most importantly it promises a new era of prosperity for all Dogrib.
Fort Good Hope is extraordinary in many ways.
Be it the scenery of the Ramparts, the awe-inspiring murals in Our Lady of Good Hope Roman Catholic Mission, or the friendliness and wisdom of residents like Thomas Manuel -- there are many special things about this close-knit Sahtu community.
What is not unique about Fort Good Hope are the problems people there face as a result of the lingering spectre of residential schools and ever-present addictions. These are issues continuously tearing apart Northern families.
Fort Good Hope could be on the path to recovery, however, thanks to brave individuals like Manuel and others on a working group trying to arrange a one-year ban on alcohol.
This is not some scheme cooked up by the RCMP or Yellowknife bureaucrats -- it is a true grassroots initiative, cautiously advanced by people born in the community who are tired of seeing their relatives and neighbours lost to fixable social problems. A year of sobriety could open the door for programs designed to heal souls who all too often are destroyed by personal demons. The cycle of addiction and violence must be broken before it destroys the next generation.
It will not be an easily won battle, but it is so clearly one worth fighting. There will be many outsiders watching what happens in the coming months, and while that's bound to put extra pressure on the community, it makes the potential pay-off all the sweeter.
If there is success in Good Hope, perhaps this will serve as a model for other communities.
As Manuel so often says, "Before we had alcohol, we were all brothers and sisters."
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
There are times even the most optimistic among us wonder if society is going in the right direction.
We often hear organizations complain about the fact nobody wants to lend a hand anymore, unless they're being paid for their time.
Sporting and youth-oriented groups are constantly beating the tundra for more people to get involved with their programs.
Family violence is on the rise across the territory and the Qulliq Energy Corp. still can't figure out how to properly add up its numbers.
Yet, every time the darkness tries to black out the light of human kindness, a story reaches your ears that rekindles your faith in the human spirit.
The tale begins
Earlier this year, a man by the name of Marcus Randolph decided to combine a bit of vacation time with a few weeks work in the North.
During the work portion of his Northern experience, the Australian visited an exploration camp near Repulse Bay.
Randolph wanted to take in as much of the local culture as he could and experience the Northern fishing he had heard so much about.
So, he took the opportunity to visit the hamlet and even paid a goodwill visit to Tusarvik school.
As luck would have it, a fishing derby was taking place at the time of Randolph's visit.
What better time for him to try his luck in the pristine Arctic waters?
Randolph turned out to be quite the fisherman, landing a catch good enough to win him $2,200 in the fishing derby.
He was soon on his way home with a good chunk of his expenses covered by his derby win.
A while later, Leonie Aissaoui was sorting through the day's mail for Tusarvik when she noticed an envelope bearing an Australian postmark.
Aissaoui opened up the envelop to find a cheque for $2,200 donated to the school and a warm letter from one Mr. Marcus Randolph.
He explained in his letter that he never felt right about the money, as he hadn't done anything to earn it.
In fact, he had been spending the past while trying to figure out what cause or charity he should give it to.
Then the idea struck him, why not send it home to Repulse?
Filling empty bellies
You see, during his visit to Tusarvik, Randolph was touched deeply by the effort he saw being put into the school's breakfast program.
And, he couldn't stand having all that money from an area where he knew some kids were having a hard time finding enough to eat.
So, Randolph returned the money to the school with one request -- that it be used to put food into the bellies of any hungry children at the school.
To top it all off, he ended the letter by thanking the school's staff for all the good work they are doing.
Our heartfelt thanks to Mr. Randolph on behalf of the kids in Repulse Bay.
And, my personal gratitude to the man for making this Christmas a whole lot brighter!
Editorial Comment
Jason Unrau
Inuvik Drum
In its lofty mission statement, The Canada Unity Council - re: another big fat sponge for your tax dollars - claims that by giving Canadians a better understanding of "Canadian institutions," it increases citizens' attachment to the nation.
Personally, I've found that the more Canadians understand their institutions, the more disillusioned, helpless and fed up they tend to feel.
But getting back to lambasting yet another government-funded let's-feel-good-about-ourselves organization, an easy place to begin is with its recent "Portraits of Canada" survey, which presumably was intended to get the pulse of what people on the street actually think.
In a recent news release following the survey, the council felt it necessary to hit media outlets with the "news" that Canadians don't believe improving the quality of life for aboriginal people to be very important. It ranked 10th out of 11 items those surveyed thought should be "top priority" for the federal government.
The reaction, of course, was the usual platitudes from some aboriginal leadership about how non-aboriginals don't care about aboriginals. Not much unity being created here.
Wasn't satisfied?
Perhaps the "unity council" wasn't satisfied with the coverage of its previous news releases about the same survey, which revealed that priority number one for respondents was to protect the environment, followed by a desire for the feds to spend more on health care.
As these issues affect everyone, I find it very difficult to understand how some can interpret aboriginal quality of life ranking lower than the environment or health care as an indication that people don't care about aboriginal people.
It would be nice for once if we could talk about improving anything without tacking on a race qualifier.
In the end, most of us want to improve our quality of life and of our communities.
Those who don't are either living in a zen state of satiated existential bliss, or are just feeling so darn hunky-dory already that things couldn't get any better. As for myself, improving the quality of my life is a constant "top priority."
If it is actually happening or not is another thing, but here's to wishful thinking.
Not surprisingly, strengthening the position of religion in our national conscience was absent from the survey. The unity guys had a separate survey for that one -- and probably a good thing, too. Imagine the ruckus if results showed that more people thought believing in God was of higher priority than improving the life of aboriginals. It begs the question, what would Jesus do?
Thinking a little closer to Inuvik, the homelessness situation comes to mind.
While it's commendable that the prevailing interests in town can all come together to talk about the issue, it's too bad that a lot of talk has happened, but not much has been accomplished.
Whether or not the pulse of the nation beats in favour of improving the quality of life for aboriginal people is not going to provide food and shelter for the guy shivering on the street tonight. That much is obvious.
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
The worst-case scenario in the Fort Providence hamlet election has come to pass.
Michael Vandell, who decided he wanted no part of the mayor's office, was elected. Vandell wasted little time in resigning from the position. Unless there is acclamation the next time around, residents must return to the polls for a by-election (at least the community members who decide it's worth their time to cast a ballot).
Why? Because restrictive territorial legislation wouldn't permit Vandell to bow out of contention. He tried, but it was after the withdrawal period elapsed.
There are a couple of lessons to take from this fiasco: the election legislation needs to be modified and candidates must search their souls before agreeing to vie for elected office.
One problem is that nominees are currently given only 48 hours to withdraw. That's just not enough time, especially for those who travel often or encounter extenuating circumstances such as a family crisis.
Municipal elections have extremely lengthy campaign periods -- even though little campaigning is usually done in smaller communities. In the Fort Providence and Fort Liard hamlet elections, for example, nominations closed on Nov. 8. Election day didn't come until Dec. 13. That's a long stretch.
Why is it that nominees couldn't be given a full week to decline having their name on a ballot if they decide they cannot shoulder the load?
Whatever extra time may be allotted, it still might not be enough for some. If the legislation was amended to give a week, someday a candidate will undoubtedly try to back out on the eighth or ninth day. The line must be drawn somewhere. Therefore it's equally imperative that those who run in municipal elections -- or any election, for that matter -- should not do so whimsically.
Sometimes nominees mean well; they sincerely would like to help their community. They just don't have the time. It's best to be honest with oneself and others early rather than impulsively agreeing to jump in when approached by supporters at the eleventh hour, as so often happens.
When only one person decides to step up to the plate, it becomes a simple matter of acclamation. In a democracy, acclamation isn't ideal but sometimes it's a reality.
Also an unfortunate reality is how little interest the hamlet and district education authority elections generated in Fort Providence. A mere 155 of 506 eligible voters thought it was worthwhile to exercise their civic duty.
Wouldn't it be good to see a tremendous turnout at the polls? It would make a huge difference if people took a genuine interest in municipal politics, which truly does affect their day-to-day lives. It would also be fantastic if several candidates planned well in advance of an election and built a campaign with a ground swell of grassroots support.
More often than not, however, that's a little utopian.
In the real world, municipalities frequently point to empty coffers, turning to the Department of Municipal and Community Affairs for more money. It's really too bad that the Hamlet of Fort Providence will have to bear the costs of a second election. That money could surely be used for a better purpose.
In the Dec. 13 edition of News/North a cutline with the story Community hopes to heal itself on page A12 was wrong. It should have indicated the Fort Good Hope working group trying to arrange a one-year ban on alcohol has made an effort to talk to everyone in town. While there is an RCMP member in the group, the police have not been involved in this part of the process.
News/North apologizes for our error and any confusion it may have caused.
In the Dec. 13 edition of News/North, Aklavik SAO Eugene Pascal was incorrectly identified in the story, "How the communities crumble" (page A13). News/North apologizes for any confusion or embarrassment this may have caused.