Features
|
Monday, July 9, 2007 When tens of thousands of dollars are at stake, that touch must be even more finely tuned. After all, you're dealing with community-minded people who may lack business experience. The NWT Business Development and Investment Corporation tried to have that delicate touch when it restructured boards that run its six businesses. Among the changes were term limits and the appointment of corporation personnel - including paid staffers - to hold a majority of seats on each board. The changes upset some directors with the Fort McPherson Tent and Canvas Shop who complained about a lack of consultation. Term limits aren't a bad idea. Every organization needs fresh ideas and new blood. Unfortunately, the ability to make community-based decisions for a community business has effectively been stripped away by putting community directors in a minority on each board. Corporation CEO Pawan Chugh says some boards have had problems getting enough members together to meet, to the point a year would go by without a meeting being held. If people fail to show up for meetings, they should be replaced. Only as a last result should paid staff be named to the board. The corporation must also accept the fact that board troubles can also be traced back to head office. How much support did boards receive? Were community directors offered professional development opportunities to improve their understanding of business operations and board management? These boards need guidance from the corporation, not top-down management. Paid staff should only work as advisors to these boards, rather than make decisions as members of the boards. The corporation was started in 2005 with the amalgamation of the Business Credit Corporation and Business Development Corporation, neither of which had stellar records. The BCC ended its last year with a $3 million deficit. Everyone can appreciate the need to improve operations, but without support in the communities - starting with meaningful community input and control - the corporation could have a difficult time.
The NWT is lucky to have such an embarrassing richness of elders. This week, family members of author and News/North columnist George Blondin will gather to celebrate his remarkable life. His columns have graced this newspaper's pages for more than a decade, retelling legends and lessons of Dene history that continue to teach important lessons today. Recently, members of Helen Tobie's family gathered to celebrate a biography of this remarkable woman. While she died last year, her life story and her experiences will live on for future generations. The book was published with help from Diavik Diamond Mines, through an agreement with the Yellowknives Dene. These stories are important treasures for generations to come. And while folks like Helen and George are alive, we must remember to treasure them, too. Was there anyone in Nunavut who didn’t smile wide at the news that Enoki Kunuk, the 81-year-old hunter from Iglulik, had been found alive and well? He was missing for 28 days, having left Iglulik for Gifford Fiord to hunt caribou. When he didn’t return after a week, his family raised the alarm. Kunuk’s snowmobile and qamutik got stuck in slush, and the elder was unable to pull them out. He left a marker by the machine, pointing to a fishing spot used frequently at this time of year, then set off to the area. He caught and ate two ptarmigan and some fish while he waited patiently for someone to come by. Meanwhile, search and rescue efforts were underway, scouring the area for signs of the missing hunter. Kunuk saw a Hercules search plane fly by; it didn’t spot him. He also heard a snowmobile come near, but it didn’t crest the nearby hill into the valley where Kunuk camped. Still he waited, confident he would be found. The military called off its search on June 18. But Iglulikmiut persisted. Other communities offered aid. The hamlet borrowed a Twin Otter aircraft to continue the air search and it was the men aboard the airplane who finally spotted Kunuk at the fishing spot, waving his camping mattress. A helicopter ferried him home, where an emotional crowd greeted him. Kunuk’s tale of survival made national news. Kunuk’s hardiness became the talk of the Internet. Bloggers expounded on the toughness of the elderly Inuk and pitted him against various superheroes, debating who would come out on top. And he now has his own Wikipedia entry. Kunuk’s story demonstrates two things about survival. One, that youth and brawn are irrelevant when it comes to survival on the tundra; Inuit Qaujimajatuqanginnut is everything. Could a 21-year-old have survived 28 days alone on the land? And two, Iglulikmiut did not give up on Kunuk. They kept on searching after the military went home. Hope is powerful medicine. All the tools and knowledge in the world are useless without the will to use them. Perhaps the next time the Canadian Forces send soldiers North on a training mission, they should spend a few weeks out on the land with Enoki Kunuk. More than how to survive on the tundra, they would learn how not to give up.
Editorial Comment Roxanna Thompson Deh Cho Drum Thursday, July 05, 2007 For some people the forests look like great swathes of undisturbed land filled with trees, a variety of plants and the occasional animal. Other people look out and see something that must be protected and conserved for future generations. Some people see resources that can be used for commerce such as open land, fresh water and timber. Yet another, and very distinctive group, look at the land and see a craft store. The statement sounds amusing for a moment until you give it a bit of thought. While a moose can be a wild animal or a walking meat section, it can also be the starting point for clothing. Of course, prior to the arrival of manufactured cloth moose were just that. One of the best parts of looking at the crafts is remembering that we only consider them to be that because their practical purposes are no longer an everyday necessity. While some people may still consider a pair of moccasins a necessity, there's a wide variety of other options these days to put on your feet to keep them clean and warm. Relieved of the once critical nature of their existence these items are now embellished and turned into something quite different. Looking at the beauty of many of the items including the intricately beaded moccasins there is no denying that they are now a wearable art form. Birch bark baskets are from a natural source - namely birch bark trees, but so are the items used to decorate them. It takes some considerable imagination to look at a live porcupine and imagine how the quills, if gathered and dyed, would make a nice material for accents. The same goes for looking at a moose and wondering what you could do with its hair if it was purple or pink. The baskets are another example of something with a practical purpose that have been converted to suit another role. The same applies to spruce root baskets. After gaining an understanding of all the work that goes into making just one of the little baskets it's easy to understand how they are worth the monetary value on their price tags. It also casts new light the lengths that people who needed them to carry water or for cooking had to go to. Certainly the people who had practical uses for all of these items would be amazed to now see them sitting on people's shelves as works of art. All of this taken together is a case study in how traditional activities can be kept alive even if it requires some slight changes. The women and men who produce these crafts should be viewed not only as wonderful artisans but also as living links to the past. Editorial Comment Dez Loreen Inuvik News Thursday, July 5, 2007 Canada's is known as a rough, majestic and somewhat eccentric place. This sense of adventure - driving the unpaved Dempster Highway, hearing people's stories about getting stranded on ice roads and seeing bears - is what tourists want to experience. They come here to see log cabins and traditional culture and houses decorated with antlers. They want to hear stories about how cold it gets in the winter, and how people used to live off the land. Why not combine these desires into a roadside museum? I don't mean a million-dollar Museum of Arctic Civilization, with slick federally-funded displays. I mean a kitschy, budget "Mad Trapper Roadside Attraction" kind of place, with old pelts and dogsleds, taxidermy and Christmas lights. Think of a garage sale, only with historical labels on everything. Inuvik already has the Visitors' Centre, and I think it does an ok job. However, a visit to the centre doesn't really provide the sense of "Northern adventure" and roughness I am taking about. To be honest, tourists don't want something slick and well produced. What they want is a place heated by a wood stove. Consider the example of the Arctic Chalet, which truly understands what tourists want to see. With its conspicuous antlers, dog sleds, mining equipment and pelts, the chalet looks more "authentically Northern" than 80 per cent of the town. Tourists arrive and you can see them express relief. "Now this is what I came to see," they say. Another example would be Yellowknife's famous Wildcat Cafe which lacks in surface polish but draws tourists through force of character. We in the North have the fortune of having tourists who actually want to see inexpensive stuff. Besides - who could resist paying $5 for a museum, after driving the entire Dempster Highway? Another reason I think Inuvik needs a roadside museum is to help showcase some artifacts, which already exist around town. Consider the Inuvialuit Cultural Resource Centre. There are binders of archival photos - thick volumes filled with early photography of hunters, trappers, people whaling and living traditional lives - which are not often browsed. The centre also has old arrow cases, fishing hooks, traditional piercings and nets, which would benefit from a little dramatic lighting and hyperbole. Unfortunately for the ICRC, there is no attempt to market to tourists; no wooden sign that invites drivers to "witness the incredible history and culture of Arctic peoples." With a few TVs in a dark room, archival jamboree footage from ICS could be useful once again. During the peak tourist season, the museum could also have demonstrations of tea boiling and traditional skills and country foods. For example, an artist working on traditional crafts could receive some extra dollars, by merely having tourists watch and ask questions. I can imagine the road sign now: "Welcome to Inuvik, end of the Dempster Highway. Visit the unique Delta Roadside Museum. Sewing demonstration at 3 p.m. Saturdays. Sample muktuk and have your photo taken in a traditional drum parka, $5."
Editorial Comment Christine Grimard Kivalliq News Wednesday, July 4, 2007 I have a problem with being alone. This is something I've known for the last few years, and I've grown to accept. Not in the emotional, one relationship to another sense. I have no desire to spend time on my own. I'm perfectly happy constantly surrounded by people. I find being by myself absolutely boring. I think most people would if they gave up today's modern media. Spending my entire day in front of the computer, I do not want to even see one at the end of my day. I gave up television many years ago when I realized how horribly annoying it is to hear sales pitches on commercials every five minutes. Other than reading the occasional book or magazine, I have no need to spend time on my own and have kept roommates most of my life for this reason: constant entertainment and company, without the need to host them like you would a guest. Coming to Rankin Inlet was a bit of a challenge in this respect. While I've made many friends, and keep myself entertained, it's difficult to find other adults who are willing to spend so much time with you, even if it's just sitting around doing nothing, just to keep each other company. In all this self-pity, I am coming to a point. Last Sunday I made some new friends to help fill this void. People perfectly happy just to sit around and watch me clean dishes, people I don't have to entertain, and who are constantly amazed by almost everything I do. Who are these simple souls? Children, of course. For the last two weeks I have found a new following in town, eager to spend every minute of their time with me if they could. Being all well behaved kids, I'm thrilled with this new kind of company. They visit me sporadically during the day at the office, giving me a nice break from the solitude of my day and even help me out. The bonus is I just shoo them out whenever I want. Most of my adult friends probably wouldn't react too well if I told them, "Go away, you're annoying me." Children have the common sense not to take it too personally. They usually just ask when they can come back. With my newfound friends, I'm rediscovering games I haven't thought about for years. Remember the thrill of hide-and-go seek? The dash to the hiding spots during the countdown, and holding your breath as the hunter approaches. I don't remember tag being so fun either, or for that matter having so many rules. At our game at the neighbourhood playground I discovered the rules: four steps on the ground, you're safe when you're touching yellow, three steps on the bridge and of course, no touch backs. They do tend to tattle on each other a little more than my adult friends, but at least it's more honest than community gossip. I think I've learned a lot from my newfound crew of kids: don't take it personally when someone doesn't want to see you; laugh as much as you can, especially at the simple things, any question is appropriate as long as it comes from genuine curiosity, and there are eight good hiding spots in the Kivalliq News office. - Darrell Greer, the regular editor of the Kivalliq News, returns July 16. |