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The territorial government is a friends and family hiring club and everybody knows it.

Its affirmative action hiring policy, adopted in 1988, was created with the intent of ensuring Northerners, particularly aboriginal Northerners, are the first in line for jobs with the GNWT. Thus the hiring designations of P1 and P2, respectively, for aboriginal and non-aboriginal residents.

There have been complaints for years that all this system really does is give less deserving job candidates an advantage over those who don't happen to have family and friends working for the GNWT, while doing little to increase the number of aboriginal residents completing high school and post-secondary school.

Of course, with more than 4,000 positions to fill, and competition for workers from the federal, municipal and private sectors, the territorial government can never fill all these jobs. In fact, according to the GNWT's latest affirmative action report in 2005, only 18 per cent of those hired or transferred during the year were affirmative action hires.

So while the territorial government favours Northerners with its affirmative action plan, there are still more jobs than there are Northerners to fill them, or more correctly, skilled Northerners.

William Turner is one such employee hired from down south last year to take on the job of policy adviser with the Business Development and Investment Corporation. He's also, in his short time in the North, managed to secure an appointment to the NWT Human Rights Commission. No doubt, this qualifies him as an aboriginal success story in Canada.

Nonetheless, Turner, a member of the Temagami First Nation band from Ontario, is taking the GNWT to court over its affirmative action policy. He claims it discriminates against Canadians from outside the NWT, particularly aboriginal Canadians, who have "mobility rights" to government jobs in most other jurisdictions in Canada.

Dene National Chief Bill Erasmus appears to agree, but was more focused on the lack of aboriginal residents in government jobs. Aboriginal residents born in our territory make up 51 per cent of the NWT population but account for only 30.4 per cent of GNWT workers, according to the 2005 affirmative action report. Erasmus argues that "our aboriginal people have not been getting the higher-end jobs with the territorial government."

But lost in this argument is the abysmal number of aboriginal students graduating from high school and receiving a post-secondary education. The government's affirmative action report puts the percentage of aboriginal high school grads at 45 per cent - far lower than the 87 per cent reported for non-aboriginal residents. More alarming, in 2004, less than five per cent of aboriginal residents in the NWT possessed a university degree or its equivalent.

In this day and age it's hard to imagine an aboriginal person with a university education being unable to get a good government job, here or anywhere else in Canada. Turner is living proofing of that.

Affirmative action in its entirety is becoming an obsolete institution. Instead, the effort should be focused on raising the level of education and training for aboriginal people. If we can accomplish that, then we'll see more of them in higher management positions with the GNWT and beyond.

Suicide affects everyone. Whether it's someone that's close to you, someone who serves you coffee or someone you don't even know, the needless loss of life is something that's felt by the entire community.

We all know the number of suicides that occur in Nunavut is substantially higher than any other province or territory in Canada. We've read the glaring headlines in the papers down south and everyone has felt the reverberating effects of suicide in their communities.

In Nunavut, ending your own life could be considered a fad. The Nunavut Suicide Prevention Strategy released last year, says, "Nunavummiut have been exposed so directly and repeatedly to suicide that they have come to accept the situation as normal."

But it's not normal.

And last week, four summer students with Kivalliq Counselling and Support Services said enough is enough and organized the Kivalliq Suicide Prevention Walk and Camp in Rankin Inlet.

The turnout of more than 80 people demonstrated that this issue is close to many hearts and is on the minds of many people. And the dozens of youth that signed up for the camp, showed that there is a need for youth programs that provide support and self-esteem building.

KayyLynn Kabluitok, one of the event co-ordinators, said her greatest hope for the camp was that the participants would walk away knowing that life is worth living regardless of the hard times.

She also hoped the youth would gain confidence, a sense of self worth, basic counselling skills and coping skills.

And if nothing else, she hoped they would make friends, so they would know there is always someone there for them.

"Communities are filled with people and our territory is filled with people and our country ... we are there for them," she said.

And to show youth that they're not alone, the summer students started the Yellow Ribbon Campaign. The ribbon signifies that the person wearing it is willing to talk or listen to someone in need of support.

If this campaign takes off, the long-lasting effect it has on Nunavut could be astounding.

The suicide walk and camp opened a dialogue that, with the help of the Yellow Ribbon Campaign, can continue. Maybe it will make the topic of suicide less taboo.

Maybe it will help the healing process for those who have been left behind. And maybe it will make people realize that suicide is not a legitimate option.

We can only wait and see what the lasting effects are, but we can hope and continue to work to put a stop to the needless loss of life.

The NWT has no shortage of needs and emerging among them is more than $200 million in renovations to Stanton Territorial Hospital.

The 23-year-old facility, based in Yellowknife but used by people from every NWT community, needs structural upgrades and vital equipment replacements. This expensive undertaking is on the agenda for 2014-15.

The question is: where the money is going to come from?

The GNWT is already closing in on its debt limit, owing $515 million with a cap set at $575. That limit had to be raised by $75 million last year to allow the territorial government to take on the $182-million Deh Cho Bridge.

Western Arctic MP Dennis Bevington went to Ottawa earlier this year with a bill to increase the NWT's borrowing power to 70 per cent of its revenues; this year that would be $951 million.

Bevington argued that the federal government is carrying debt that's twice its annual revenue, so it would be hypocritical to continue limiting the NWT to around half its own revenue.

The bill passed first and second reading in Parliament and as of February it was on its way to the Standing Committee on Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development for debate.

Then came a May 2 federal election and the proposal to raise the NWT's debt limit was consequently discarded.

Bevington went on to defeat Liberal-turned-Conservative candidate Sandy Lee at the NWT polls, but she didn't disappear for long.

A former NWT health minister, Lee received a federal appointment in July. She was quietly selected as NWT director of regional affairs for federal Health and CanNor Minister Leona Aglukkaq.

Asked about his election rival popping up in a patronage appointment, Bevington told News/North, "I trust she will respect the relationship established through the electoral process between constituents and the elected member of Parliament."

In other words, don't step on my toes or throw up roadblocks.

That is fair enough to say. Even so, one of the best things Lee could do for the NWT is to lobby for the cash to complete the Stanton renovations.

As a health minister for several years speaking to the current federal health minister, now her boss, Lee could persuade Aglukkaq and Harper to make the money flow - whether through a one-time contribution from Ottawa or as part of the raising of the NWT debt ceiling.

Meanwhile, politics, being what they are, will never truly be set aside.

Lee is not ruling out another run at the Western Arctic MP seat. She can remind voters in four years that it was her work behind the scenes, and the Conservative Party, that gave NWT residents the gift of better health.

Two communities are grieving this month following the deaths of three men in two separate boat accidents.

Brothers Tommy and Noah Kalluk of Arctic Bay were found dead in their capsized boat July 30 about 40 km south of the hamlet. Noah Metuq of Pangnirtung died Aug. 1 after falling overboard in Cumberland Sound and being swept away from his boat by the current. According to RCMP, he spent three to five minutes in the water before being picked up by a passing boat, but was pronounced dead at the community's health centre.

None of the men was wearing a life-jacket.

In 2005-2007, Nunavut had the highest rate of deaths by drowning in Canada - 17.3 per 100,000 population, as compared to the national average of 1.5. And in 80 per cent of Canada's drowning deaths in 2005-2007, the victim wasn't wearing a life-jacket.

Many people in the north are skeptical that wearing a life-jacket can make a difference to your chances of survival after a boat accident, because the water here is so cold.

But recent research has shown that wearing a life-jacket reduces the chance of drowning, even in Arctic waters, as it can take up to an hour to become fatally hypothermic - not minutes as is commonly thought.

Dr. Gordon Giesbrecht at the University of Manitoba illustrated this vividly in 2008 when he recruited nine volunteers to undergo cold water immersion tests. The project, which took place in an Ontario lake in April just after its ice cover had melted, was dubbed Cold Water Boot Camp. From this and other studies, Giesbrecht devised the one-10-one rule of thumb.

One minute: that's how long the initial shock of landing in cold water lasts. The shock causes you to take a deep and sudden gasp and then hyperventilate. Wearing a life-jacket is vital to keeping your head and face out of the water while you try to stem your panic and get your breathing under control.

Ten minutes: that's how long you have to try and rescue yourself, before the cold incapacitates you, numbing your fingers and limbs, and you begin to lose your ability to swim.

One hour: it takes at least an hour for body temperature to drop to a fatal level, even in 4C water, but due to cold incapacitation, drowning can happen quickly. A life-jacket with a collar that's designed to keep a person's head above water even when they're unconscious buys time for rescuers to reach victims.

Wearing a life-jacket may not be enough to prevent all deaths from boating accidents, especially if rescue is more than an hour away. But paired with other safety measures, such as never travelling alone and carrying some means of sending a distress signal, it gives you a fighting chance in an environment that's unforgiving.

Everybody knows the one block section of 50 Street between Franklin Avenue and 51 Avenue is an eyesore and a disgrace.

Aside from the near nightly mayhem and public drunkenness parading down its cracked and filthy sidewalks, "Range Street," as it's come to be called, is home to what may be the only operational shopping mall in the western world to have deliberately shuttered one of its doors to keep loiterers at bay.

The boutiques the city so desperately wants to attract back downtown fled from this block years ago - leaving the infamous Gold Range bar, the Raven Pub, four convenience stores, two diners, two instant loan outlets, and the barricaded Centre Square Mall as the functioning businesses on this strip today.

The city has talked about cleaning up this portion of downtown for several years but nothing has come of it to date. City hall proposed to undertake a "streetscaping" of Range Street in 2010, which would have included new paving, sidewalks, planters and decorative garbage bins but it was delayed until 2012.

Bearing the later date in mind, perhaps it shouldn't be a surprise that the city has suddenly unveiled ambitious plans to buy all the properties on the south side of this block, and the empty parking lot across the street too -- but this is uncharted territory.

It's hard to accuse city council of resting on its laurels over the last few years: Geothermal energy from Con Mine to heat downtown; completion of a $16.6 million Fieldhouse and a Smart Growth Development Plan to guide city planning for decades to come; proposed new rules for Old Airport Road; and a goal to take control over development and other activities on Yellowknife Bay through the establishment of a harbour commission.

And now we learn the city wants to empty its land development fund to pay for the purchase of seven properties - collectively sold at more than $3.6 million over the last 20 years but bound to be much more expensive now that the owners know the city is serious about buying them.

One problem is we don't know exactly what the city plans to do with those lots other than putting a 24- to 48-unit affordable, "eco-housing" project in the area, and details on how that project will be managed are minimal.

In any event, it's hard to imagine the $6 million the city expects to have in its land fund by the end of the year will cover such an ambitious plan.

If city hall does accomplish a grand transformation of Range Street - rid it of its squalor, bring back the shops, and make people feel safe and secure while walking it, all within budget -- it would be a heroic achievement.

But if council feels resistance from residents and businesses at this point, it shouldn't be a surprise. We would suggest the city's focus-group, cards-close-to-the-chest approach to a certain amount of its business, as is the case with geothermal and the harbour plan, is hampering its ability to gain support from citizens. That the city suffered a crushing defeat in the geothermal referendum last March is a good illustration of the consequences.

The same lessons apply to Range Street. People may dislike what they see there but many others are sentimental about this historic part of the city. To push through bylaws - the final vote on allowing the purchase of three of the lots is expected Aug. 22 - without presenting a complete vision for the area is bound to breed confusion and mistrust.

There seems to be a dream among many in the Deh Cho that involves seeing the end of gravel highways.

In this dream the gravel portions of highways 1 and 7 would be chipsealed, creating a smooth highway surface loop through the region. Those who yearn for a bump-free drive would have thought their dream was beginning to come true when the Department of Transportation announced 70 kilometres of Highway 1 was going to be chipsealed in 2010.

Only 40 km were actually laid down that year but it was a glorious stretch of road. If you were approaching it from the Fort Simpson side, the chipseal was like a godsend after seemingly endless kilometres of dusty and often bumpy gravel. The chipseal was smooth, quiet under tires and a delight to drive on.

The chipseal, however, soon began to crack, along with the dream. One by one, small sections of the chipseal started to come apart. As the chips came loose and revealed the undersection of the highway, the areas soon grew and turned into potholes or rutted soft spots that force tires into set tracks.

Drivers were left wondering where it all went wrong.

As it turns out, a lot can go wrong with chipseal. First of all, the roadbed has to be in just the right condition or it won't support the chipseal surface.

Secondly, the chipseal has to be laid in a water-free environment.

If any water, even moisture in the air on humid days, is present during the 10 days after the chips are laid and the oil is curing, the chips can later unravel.

Even if the roadbed is sound and the chips are laid in a dry spell, success isn't guaranteed. Trucks over a certain weight have to be kept off the road in the spring as the frost is coming out of it or their weight can damage the surface.

The Deh Cho has gone from having a 40-km dream stretch of highway to a section that is far worse than the previous gravel surface.

What's left is for Deh Cho residents and motorists to revise their dream. Yes, a chipsealed loop would be ideal but this example has shown that chipseal doesn't always live up to expectations or its average five-year lifespan.

Maybe what residents should be asking the territorial government for instead are the best highways possible. These highways could be chipsealed if conditions permit or they could be well-maintained gravel surfaces.

All residents want to be able to travel safely and expeditiously across the region and, at this point, chipseal, despite its allure, might not provide that driving experience.

After a few months without Inuvik Works, a new training program will take its place.

While careful not to call it an education centre, Inuvialuit Regional Corporation human resources officer Candace Morgan spoke about the potential of the new project and it sounds promising.

It is intended to be a true community program that will help anyone and everyone gain skills essential to the resume: customer service, financial expertise, career planning and even supervisory and management training. The training centre will work with business partners to find out what their needs are and then offer programs to fill their needs. Genius! Find out what they want and give it to them.

The training centre grads will get one-on-one counselling to address barriers they have to employment, be able to talk about education and timelines and receive regular monitoring to ensure they're meeting their personal goals.

Businesses will get first choice at trained and willing potential employees and receive a wage subsidy from the program, which gives them more incentive to hire these freshly-trained people.

The beauty of the project is that all major stakeholders in the community – the Inuvialuit Regional Corporation, the Gwich'in Tribal Council, the territorial government – are working together, meaning that hopefully all areas of the community will be reached. Everyone has equal opportunities to receive training and job offers.

Too often the community is separated, or great chances offered to only one group. At last a newly reincarnated Inuvik Works will be able to help everyone in need.

One hopes it will be successful. Morgan had high hopes and a big vision when she discussed it at a recent council meeting. She pinned the success of this program on the three-year-old Sunchild Education program currently run under her department at the IRC.

While other programs have boards and committees, Morgan has shied away from that format and will keep the centre under the IRC umbrella.

She hopes the training centre will have as much success as the Sunchild program, which had a 100 per cent success rate in 2011. All of the students that completed the schooling graduated.

Here's hoping that the combination of stakeholders, leadership, funding and experience will result in successful training, jobs and maybe even an improved economy. More people employed means more people spending money.

Well done and welcome back, Inuvik Works, in whatever form you may take.

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