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The Child and Family Services Act was meant to protect children who may be in danger from their family, either from abuse or neglect.

Great Slave MLA Glen Abernethy recently highlighted a perceived lack of checks and balances in the act to the government -- and called for a review of the Child and Family Services Act to correct this.

Abernethy pointed to an example in which a separated parent is not permitted to have custody of a child due to an assault charge filed against the other parent, even though that charge has not yet been ruled on by a judge. The child and family services unit of the Department of Health and Social Services made this decision unilaterally, without any possibility of recourse by the first parent.

Media coverage of Abernethy's example deliberately lacks details. That's because news media are not allowed to mention the names of any family members involved in proceedings, in the interests of protecting the children. That's understandable.

However, news media are not even permitted to attend family hearings. Nothing of the hearings is known until a judgment is rendered. This is another weak point in the law. How can members of the public - including decision-makers - ensure faulty judgments are not made?

Parents and children who believe they have been wronged by the process have little recourse in the courts. Personal biases, Abernethy said, can easily creep into such proceedings. This creates room for a heavy-handed exercise of power by authorities whose orders are absolute. A thorough review is in order.

If approached correctly, next year's Winter Olympics in Vancouver presents a golden opportunity to promote the NWT as a place to visit and do business.

Thousands of people from around the world will be at the games so it makes sense that the NWT has a presence there.

The Department of Industry, Tourism, and Investment plans to share office space in a building near the Olympics site with the other two territories.

A deal hasn't been signed yet, but the territories have their eyes set on an eight-storey downtown building in Vancouver's waterfront district for its "Northern House."

A pavilion would cost up to $300,000 for just three weeks.

The territories hope for a comparable price on a yearly lease, one they can rent out for years after the games to take advantage of Vancouver's position as the Pacific gateway to Canada.

Deal or not, it won't make any sense to open a visitor's centre without a storefront presence on the ground level.

They can have the nicest digs in the world but if it's up on the eighth floor somewhere, no one will know it's there and it will be a waste of time and money. To that end, the government must also keep track of the number of visitors coming in to determine how well the project is working.

When five hunters from Wrigley went on a caribou hunt for the community, they didn't go alone.

Two teenage boys from the community accompanied the hunters.

The hunt, as Chief Darcy E. Moses explained, was a perfect chance to teach the two boys about the proper way to hunt caribou, including which parts of the animals can be harvested and which parts need to be respected.

The explanation seems so simple and self-evident.

To the hunters it was only natural the boys should go on the hunt to begin to learn how to harvest a traditional food source.

This process, however, is not as natural as it used to be.

In the past, youth in the Deh Cho would have learned how to hunt by accompanying and imitating family members.

The skill would have been acquired as a vital part of the process of becoming an adult.

The importance of hunting and trapping, however, has diminished with time.

Now, there are so many other activities and distractions that capture the interest of youth, including video and computer games.

Today, the natural habitat of for most youth isn't a hunting camp but a living room couch with a game controller in their hands.

The decreased amount of time spent on the hunt is partially due to the fact that hunting is no longer the primary means of obtaining food.

For most, it's now a way to supplement what they can buy in a grocery store.

But that doesn't mean youth can't like hunting and trapping just as much as they like playing video games.

When students are taken out to cabins for either activity, they often return and tell stories about their exploits with enthusiasm that's normally reserved to describe new video game releases.

Brandon Moses, 14, who went on the caribou hunt, is a perfect example.

Moses was clearly excited as he described how be bagged his first two caribou.

The enthusiastic tone of voice continued as Moses talked about learning how to skin the animal.

Being at the hunt was a lot of work and there was no time to laze around, but Moses said he still enjoyed it.

Many students who participate in the Take a Kid Trapping Program also display this kind of enthusiasm as they talk about breaking trail, setting traps and checking for any catches. Students in a number of communities, including Nahanni Butte and Fort Liard, were able to participate in that program this winter.

It's encouraging to see individuals, schools and communities ensuring the younger generations learn about hunting and trapping.

Both activities are now more like pastimes than crucial skills, but they are still important ways to connect with the land.

Youth should be included on hunts and harvesting activities whenever possible to ensure that connection is maintained.

On Sunday I had a chat with a friend who, like me, has come from away. It was our first Muskrat Jamboree, and of course we were often wowed by all the events, sometimes spiritual, sometimes wacky.

We talked on Sunday and she told me of everything she had seen until then, including the drummers and dancers performance on Friday, which stood out most in her mind. She was taken by the deft and graceful movements and the passion.

But beyond that she admired the inclusiveness of the dance - how the dancers didn't just tolerate the participation of children and curious outsiders, but thrived on it.

That insight seemed to capture my feelings about the four-day festival.

Like her, I was also entertained, shocked and in some cases left in awe as I took in the day's events. The muskrat-skinning contest remains firmly planted in my head, especially Barbara Charlie's mind-boggling efficiency at the task. In the 60 or so seconds it took her to do the job, you couldn't help but be struck by the woman's resourcefulness and toughness, among many other qualities, I'm sure.

The dog races were also remarkable.

Like with the drummers and dancers, outsiders were encouraged to take part in any and all traditions. I clearly remember jamboree chair Roy Ipana coaxing the crowd to pick up a harpoon or to give skinning a shot. It took a while but eventually more and more people decided to get involved. Even if they happened to mangle a muskrat, Ipana was right over their shoulder smiling with a few encouraging words, such as "at least you tried."

The fact that the Muskrat Jamboree continues after 52 years is a statement in itself. Things have changed, traditions have evolved, but the fact that so much remains in the Delta is comforting and refreshing.

The annual festival gave me a deeper insight into the culture and traditions, as well as a dramatically-different style of fiddle music than that I've grown accustomed to and passionate about, having roots in Cape Breton.

But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't moved by James Rogers' distinctive old-time country playing, which is why I chose to feature him and his son Daniel in this week's Drum.

As an outsider looking in, the Jamboree tells me there is vitality and strength in the Delta culture and there appears to be enough people willing to preserve the vital aspects of it.

Why is the city making bus users scramble around town in a silly sort of Easter egg hunt to find bus passes?

City hall, after all, is not on the moon. It shouldn't be that hard to send a city employee one block down the street to Sutherland's Drugs when the store runs out of passes and requests more - or to Reddi-Mart, two blocks away.

If this was one of those once-in-a-blue-moon situations where someone didn't make the delivery because they called in sick that day, it might be understandable. But according to Sutherland's, the city's inability to supply more passes or even return phone calls, was a constant problem.

The store finally grew tired of dealing with irate customers coming in looking for bus passes it didn't have to sell, so it stopped selling them all together in February.

As of yesterday, no one from the city had called either Sutherland's or Reddi-Mart to assure them there will be no more bus pass shortages.

A Public Works employee did tell Yellowknifer last week that the department was revising its system for selling bus passes to provide "more efficiency."

More efficiency? We can only hope this isn't code for hiring expensive consultants to study what efficiencies are needed.

It's pretty clear that all the city really needs to do is put a few boxes of passes in a tote bag and bring them to the stores so they can sell them.

The GNWT's recent belt-tightening has left 100 students in a sudden financial predicament.

A number of scholarships through NWT Student Financial Assistance, adding up to about $400,000, have been wiped off the budget entirely.

Existing students received an e-mail a couple of weeks ago notifying them about the cut, and at least a few are left wondering how they'll be able to afford to continue their studies.

Chris Buchanan of Yellowknife, who is studying law at Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia, feels the GNWT no longer considers education a priority. He pointed to the government's $2.5-million budget for the Olympics. That's a fair argument.

While NWT Student Financial Assistance has been a generous source of support for many years, we are enduring tough economic times and difficult decisions have to be made. Regardless, the government could have, at least, announced the scholarship cuts sooner than late March. As well, the GNWT should continue assisting scholarship recipients who are still enrolled in post-secondary programs, drawing the line at funding anyone else out of high school this year.

Finally, the territorial government should consider using these scholarships as incentives to keep graduates working here for some time, which would be beneficial to this city and territory overall.

The government gets a failing grade on the way this was handled, but it's not too late for a rewrite.

My dad and I had a long talk over the phone shortly before he succumbed to cancer after being treated for six months for pneumonia.

He wasn't impressed with the change in attitudes he'd seen in the past two decades or so before his death.

He told me, "I don't know" and "I was wrong" seem to have become two of the most difficult answers for people to give in modern times.

To him, people were more likely to point the blame at someone else than accept responsibility themselves.

And they were certainly more likely to spread verbal fertilizer on an issue rather than admit they didn't know the answer.

Having served in the Second World War, he was hurt by how people still focused on their differences rather than their commonalities.

I now find myself thinking I may have been wrong to support former premier Paul Okalik so often.

I still feel Okalik did an admirable job as premier.

But his public comments are starting to lean towards arrogance and discrimination at best, and outright racism at worst.

I appreciate Hunter Tootoo's apology on behalf of the people of Iqaluit concerning Okalik's contention this past month that Environment Minister Daniel Shewchuk is incapable of representing Nunavut's interests because he's not Inuk.

Could the faculty at Ottawa University law school have felt Okalik was incapable of representing a modern justice system because of his Inuit heritage?

One would have to think not, as Okalik became the first Inuk called to the bar.

By his own admission - and understandably so - he found it hard being the only Inuk in law school and sought out the smartest people he could find to help him through.

Apparently, Okalik now places race ahead of intellect and experience when it comes to prioritizing one's qualifications.

It is disheartening to hear such comments from one of Nunavut's most distinguished politicians at a time when a new age of enlightenment has brought Nunavut its first female premier and the first African American president to the U.S. in history.

That's to say nothing of Okalik's snub of the democratic system, when Shewchuk was elected by the people of Arviat and chosen as a minister by an elected body representing all Nunavummiut.

The same system may be a long way from perfect, but it's effective enough to have afforded Okalik a second chance in life and supported him in becoming the public figure he is today.

Of course, the citizens of one of the most culturally-diverse nations in the world have differences.

It would be absurd to think otherwise. But, first and foremost, we are all Canadians.

And we share a special bond in Nunavut, Inuit and non-Inuit alike, because we all believe in its potential.

There is no room for patriarchy or dictatorships here.

We must work together, confident in our ability to see the person, their skill and capability - not the colour of their skin.

To say otherwise is madness brought on by mindless devotion to a single colour, and it's time to stop the madness.

Members of the legislative assembly are obligated to represent the people who voted them into office.

It's a duty vital to democracy that can't be turned on and off on a whim.

While in office, a hazard of MLAs' jobs is they are never off the clock. Their actions are scrutinized by the public and the media and they are expected to perform to high standards of character and accountability.

It's a heavy burden but one politicians accept willingly when they run for office.

Unfortunately, not all elected officials meet those standards. Most recently, News/North looked into the attendance record of our MLAs and revealed some have missed dozens of meetings and workdays.

The worst offender was Nunakput's Jackie Jacobson, who missed 35 workdays and more than 40 meetings. Kevin Menicoche, MLA for Nahendeh, was a distant second with more than 17 days absent and missing more than 20 meetings. Tied for third were Norman Yakeleya, Sahtu MLA, and David Krutko, Mackenzie South MLA, each with 11 missed meetings.

We all miss days for family emergencies, illness, etc. But, the rest of us can't miss days and weeks of work without consequences. No matter how understanding a boss you may have, if you miss work without good reason, you're going to start losing pay, assuming you still have a job.

MLAs make a minimum of $92,000 a year plus other benefits and allowances. The only punishment for missing work is the possibility they will not be re-elected at the end of four years. Re-elected or not, they still walk away with taxpayers' money they may not have earned.

The fact that MLAs can miss more than a month of work with zero consequence - regardless of the reason -- is gross abuse and an appalling oversight in policy.

They should lose a day's pay for a day's inexcusable absence. That's usually how it works in the real world.

News that dozens of rotting caribou were discovered by wildlife officials at multiple kill sites in the Tlicho region is disturbing. Wasting meat is not only illegal, it is an affront to Northern cultural values.

One of the most important lessons in aboriginal traditional teachings is a respect for land, water and animals. It is part of a doctrine that should be respected regardless of cultural heritage.

This case of meat wasting has raised questions about the strength of cultural teaching in NWT communities. Are young people becoming less adept at properly handling and butchering a kill?

Young hunters in the territory must learn from elders about how to respect wildlife and proper meat handling. If that is not enough, then more legal penalties are necessary.

A paltry fine of $500 does not send an adequate message. Doubling or tripling the fine for wasting meat will ensure people who hunt in our borders do so with respect and the skills necessary to harvest properly.

With Nunavut's 10th anniversary marked on April 1, there has been much reflection on how far this territory has come and how much farther it has to go.

The Government of Nunavut, under the direction of Premier Eva Aariak since last November, released a long-term vision called Tamapta last week. It sets out some general goals that anyone would be hard pressed to argue against: Better living standards for the poor, improved education and training and support for the land claims process.

There are, so far, few specifics outlining how those aims will be achieved. To their credit, they adopted a suicide prevention strategy early in the term, something the previous two territorial governments could not say.

Suicide remains a grim problem in Nunavut. It occurs at roughly 10 times the national average and is the second leading cause of death. While the effectiveness of the suicide prevention strategy won't be known for years to come, it's at least something.

Taking one's own life is often linked to alcohol and drug abuse. After 10 years, this territory still has no rehabilitation centre. That is unacceptable and must be dealt with.

In some cases, alcohol and drug abuse is fuelled by a low sense of self-worth. A person's sense of wellness can be hampered by living in overcrowded homes, a problem that the federal government has recognized but has set aside too little money to fully remedy.

Self-worth is also attached to having a purpose in life, usually a job allowing a person to earn an income and support a family. While unemployment rates remain high, the promise of mines near Rankin Inlet, Baker Lake, Cambridge Bay and Pond Inlet hold promise. There are incomes and valuable training attached to those mines, which must be properly managed to protect the environment. Learning from past ventures like Nanisivik and Polaris, Inuit organizations are now negotiating impact benefits agreements with the mining companies to realize greater benefits. This is progress.

But a diversified economy would make for a stronger Nunavut, and that's why further developing the fishery is necessary. In addition, greater promotion of this territory's talented artists would be helpful.

Just look at some of the emerging stars from this territory of 30,000 people over the past decade: Annie Pootoogook, Kenojuak Ashevak, Lucie Idlout, Susan Aglukark and Zacharias Kunuk.

They represent a mix of contemporary and traditional artists.

And tradition is still the glue that holds this territory together: carving, hunting, travelling on the land, throat-singing and speaking Inuktitut.

We should continue to demand that the government passes language and education legislation to strengthen our proud traditions. In the meantime, we shouldn't waste a day of the next decade learning and teaching all of those precious skills.