Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Were they guilty of any crime? We'll never know because they never went to trial.
The only witnesses against them, who also happened to be the victims of the robbery, were from Ukraine and Armenia and have since returned home.
The Crown prosecutors offered to bring the men back to Canada to testify, but they refused. The Crown offered to set up a video link to Moscow but the men still refused.
Without the testimony of the Crown's witnesses, the case against the men fell apart. The charges were put on hold for a year, which means a trial will be very unlikely.
While we don't know why the men didn't want to testify, their refusal brings out an essential element of our justice system - the involvement of ordinary people.
Unless victims and witnesses are prepared to step forward and testify in court, justice cannot be carried out.
In this instance, the witnesses were not Canadians, but in too many instances Canadian citizens choose to keep silent. When they do, the justice system falls apart.
Our eyes are often drawn to the Yellowknife Inn wall by the Franklin Avenue and 50th Street parking lot to see what artistic gems are going up next.
Check it out: there are 37 pieces of about 4X4 feet. All told, they now take up one wide wall. Artist Diane Boudreau initiated the project, Leo Tatsiechele painted nine of the panels and Mervin Olikoak and Sam Netley help maintain the site.
And all for next to nothing in cost.
Cities across Canada have long glommed onto the idea of perking up their drab downtowns with monster murals. Some feature historic scenes, some are art for art's sake.
Yellowknife has several murals along those lines, too. All of them lend much-needed colour to our workaday world.
But Boudreau's ongoing art project is unique, both for the way an assemblage of smaller pieces is building to something that helps make Yellowknife different, and for its personal nature. Boudreau and the other contributors are not getting rich off this, so far as we can see.
They rely on Yellowknife - businesses and individuals - to fund each item. Some materials are donated, but any spare returnable bottles and cans are appreciated.
This is public art we can all be proud of. One piece at a time.
Editorial Comment
Brent Reaney
Kivalliq News
Humans are social beings. We need to interact in order to live a full life.
Much of this interaction comes in the form of recreational activities.
If administered properly, these activities and programs can strengthen an entire community.
Inside the Rankin community hall last Tuesday, dozens of kids were cheering each other on as they went in pairs through an obstacle course.
Leaving the hall, I drove over to the baseball diamond to get a picture of one of the kids.
The field was empty.
Driving out, I recognized one of the youth and asked him if they were still playing.
"Every day I come, but there's nobody there," he said desperately.
Now I'm not blaming anybody because the kids were not showing up at the ball field for their 1:30 p.m. game, but it was definitely a sad sight.
And Noah Tiktak has been taking kids out on the land using funding provided by the department of Culture Language Elders and Youth.
He has another camp planned for the fall, but does not know if money will be made available for future excursions.
Land trips, summer camps, and baseball games are all forms of recreation.
I've heard a number of people say our territory's recreational programming seems to include too many southern sports, and not enough Inuit activities.
I support the cultivation of Inuit culture wherever possible.
But arguments over whether money should be spent on kids going out on the land filleting char, or staying in town throwing baseballs will not get us anywhere.
Let's ask, not tell, people what they want to do.
And let's provide better support to our community recreation directors. The high-stress nature of the job makes it easy to understand why there is such a high turnover.
The Nunavut government holds regional training sessions, but it does not seem to be enough to keep people around. If we want to have strong, consistent programming, we need people to grow in their jobs.
Sport Nunavut says the secret to making things run on its frayed, shoestring budget is a strong network of volunteers.
With more money unlikely likely to come around any time soon, we need to keep this in mind and help our rec directors organize activities and events whenever possible.
We also need to remember to keep our elders and middle-aged residents active.
Too often, all of our events are focused on kids.
Children are important, but they still need to be physically and mentally active when they become adults.
At the Kivalliq Traditional Summer Games they have an elders division.
This seems like the kind of tradition that will not only keep our communities going, but growing.
Editorial Comment
Jason Unrau
Inuvik Drum
Following Monday evening's premiere of Dennis Allen's documentary film My Father, My Teacher, reaction from those in attendance - locals, transplants and visitors - was a mix of pride, satisfaction and wonderment.
From those who know stories like Allen's well, there was a lot of pride. From transplants who know these stories exist, maybe have heard one or two and are pleased some are getting the treatment of a National Film Board co-production, one could feel the satisfaction.
The wonderment came from the visitors, several of whom responded to the film with the kind of pleasure a child shows opening presents on Christmas day.
The common thread the desire for more productions just like it. After the credits rolled, many in the audience were eager to know where they could get their hands on a copy and were disappointed when told that it wouldn't be available for a year or so due to broadcast obligations.
In fact, very little news from the Arctic trickles down south and the little that does generally only makes the business pages of the daily newspapers, in regards to development or industry.
The Arctic sometimes seems to be a place outsiders concoct fantasies about, perhaps gleaned from the written word of Farley Mowat or Robert Service.
And if Mowat is one's inspiration, those imagined notions of the North are even more far-fetched, considering the words of an actual Northerner, Allen's father Victor, who in the documentary calls Mowat's version of the North for the most part make-believe.
So how do we go about quenching southerners' thirst for stories about the North?
Make more films, of course. Fiction or non-fiction, it doesn't matter as long as they are created by people from this region.
When the Zacharias Kunuk's feature film Atanarjuat was released in 2001, critical acclaim it received put Nunavut on the international map as much as the success of hockey phenom Jordin Tootoo.
Similar to Tootoo's success, the first feature-length film to boast writing, directing, acting and production credits by Inuit proved that they could compete at an international level.
As Gwich'in writer Robert Arthur Alexie's novels have given fiction readers a glimpse into a facet of the Gwich'in people coming to grips with their past and dealing with the modern world, so, too, should Allen's effort achieve a similar result in the non-fiction realm. In terms of impact, both are equally relevant and hopefully as inspiring to their up-and-coming contemporaries.
It is true that the proposed development of the pipeline may give this region the financial wherewithal to plot its future but what do we want that future to look like?
Among other things, some of the revenue gained from this type of development could be used to provide opportunities for the people of this region to engage in more creative ventures.
By doing so, we will show the world that the Delta is more than just a source of oil and gas, it is a region with a rich history and a people with lots of great stories to tell.
Editorial Comment
Derek Neary
Deh Cho Drum
In some Deh Cho circles, the idea of industry barging into this region is practically contemptuous.
But let's face it, it's going to happen. Dehcho First Nations (DFN) has put a land-use plan in place that protects more than half of the region from some forms of development. No drilling here, no mining there, no logging in this area. That's sound preparation.
In addition, DFN is fighting for a respectable resource revenue sharing deal. That's fair.
Recent announcements lead one to believe the pieces are falling into place for a Mackenzie Valley pipeline. A $500 million federal commitment to the NWT for socio-economic impacts created by the pipeline comes on the heels of a $31.5 million settlement between the federal government and the Deh Cho.
While Grand Chief Herb Norwegian is far from expressing any sort of support for the pipeline project, he is claiming that modest tracts of Deh Cho land may be opened for oil and gas exploration and development "within the next little while."
Fort Liard and Kakisa are ready to move ahead on that front.
Despite all the apparent development momentum, it's difficult not to be skeptical. Back in 2001, erstwhile Grand Chief Michael Nadli was heralding the promise of an interim resource development agreement. It would allow development to proceed in advance a final self-government agreement, he explained. There were, however, some major points to be ironed out. The calendar now reads July 2005 and there is still serious discord between DFN and the federal government on resource issues. People aren't holding their breath any more. In the Deh Cho, it will happen when it happens.
Fort Liard is still hemorrhaging bad blood, politically speaking.
There was a whole heap of interest in the July 14 election. Four candidates threw their hats in the ring for chief, another 14 wanted one of five council seats. Voter turnout was pretty close to 70 per cent. That's impressive.
The only fly in the ointment is that the results are under appeal. Floyd Bertrand, a two-term incumbent, is contesting Harry Deneron's 54 vote victory. Deneron has served as chief for more than 20 years and is honourary chief for life.
Fort Liard has been gripped by frustration and hostility for too long. After this appeal is dealt with, it's imperative that leaders and band members find a way to work together.
It may be easier said than done, but it must be achieved for the betterment of the community.