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If Avalon Rare Metals takes a lesson away from the seemingly sudden rejection by the Yellowknives Dene of its mine proposal, it's that relationships are fickle flowers requiring constant cultivation.

Back in 2009 when Yellowknives chiefs Ed Sangris and Ted Tsetta were proudly wearing the company's jackets and offering to name the project site after the Dene word for the area, Nechalacho, Avalon was the undisputed master at First Nations diplomacy among junior exploration companies.

While North Arrow Minerals, another junior company exploring for rare earths in Akaitcho territory, was being dragged into court for insufficient consultations, the Yellowknives were singing Avalon's praise.

"Avalon came to us at the chief-and-council level and they consulted with us. That's how you're supposed to consult First Nations - early in the process," said Ted Tsetta, who was chief of Ndilo until his removal by band council last year.

But times have changed. What was said in 2009 may not matter in 2013. Yellowknives Chief Ed Sangris, apparently miffed that Avalon had concluded an impact benefits agreement with Deninu Ku'e band in Fort Resolution ahead of them, complained to the Mackenzie Valley Environmental Impact Review Board last week that the Yellowknives were "not being treated as the most impacted community."

Avalon president Don Bubar claims he felt "blindsided" by the Yellowknives sudden opposition to the mine. But the First Nation is not the only one to express dissatisfaction with the company's consultation efforts.

Blachford Lake Lodge owner Mike Freeland recounted how Avalon had at one time been a frequent patron of his business, hosting numerous board and investors meetings there, but says his lodge has not received any economic benefit from the company in nearly two years. Now, Freeland is opposed to the mine, which is only seven kilometres from his lodge, because he fears that light and noise pollution from mining activity will destroy his business.

Bubar, while critical of the Yellowknives' lack of communications with Avalon ahead of the hearings, acknowledges the company needs to double-down on its negotiating efforts to restore the Yellowknives' faith in the project. That would be a wise move.

Clearly, the best antidote to aboriginal opposition is to ensure First Nations have a big stake in the project. Around the new year, when Idle No More was in full momentum, there was some talk about shutting down the Tibbitt-to-Contwoyto winter road but cooler heads prevailed, no doubt upon reflecting on how important the diamond mines are to the livelihood of aboriginal residents in the territory.

Avalon has committed to maintaining 30 to 40 per cent aboriginal employment for the 300 jobs that will be associated with the Nechalacho project. That works out to 120 potential jobs for aboriginal residents in the region and it is the Yellowknives chiefs' responsibility to capitalize on that commitment.

And Bubar has a point. The Yellowknives can't merely sit on their hands and wait for people to come and ask them questions.

They can complain all they want about a lack of consultation but that won't matter if the review board finds Avalon has met the minimum requirements, which is all it needs to prove to get a permit to build a mine.

Bubar said it may be time for some new faces at the negotiating table. That might have to include some new Yellowknives chiefs and band councillors before both sides are happy.

Economic opportunities and a strong economy are things most Deh Cho residents would like to see.

The problem, however, is how to get there. That is something the territorial government is examining through the NWT Economic Opportunities Strategy that is currently being developed.

Fort Simpson residents were asked for their opinions when the advisory panel for the strategy visited the village on Feb. 18. The answers were far ranging and, when put together, form a holistic approach.

Creating and building on new and existing economic opportunities will require everything from improved education, particularly in the trades, to incentives for people to remain in, or move to, the territory to live and work.

According to the Fort Simpson residents who participated in the public meetings better infrastructure is also needed, particularly things such as improved roadways. Support for people who want to start their own businesses also can't be overlooked.

Land also needs to be made available for business ventures, something that can't be done in most cases until land claims are settled.

There is clearly no magic formula the territorial government can follow to foster economic growth.

The government can pour all the money it wants into various programs and incentives, but none of it will amount to much unless the people of the territory are willing to take advantage of it.

How to foster a strong work ethic and nurture entrepreneurs was touched on briefly during the meetings.

There are existing opportunities that could be built on in the Deh Cho. People at the meetings tossed out a variety of ideas ranging from small-scale forestry operations to creating products from plants including berries, birch and spruce trees. A variety of services and products could also be developed for the existing tourism industry.

People are the essential building blocks to any good economy. In the end, regardless of how the territorial government is directed by the NWT Economic Opportunities Strategy, the success or decline of the economy in the territory will rest on the initiative and tenacity of the people who live here.

Sometimes it doesn't pay to ponder political announcements.

Such was the case when the federal government announced it was providing $10 million to outfit every arena in Canada with defibrillators.

Aha, I said. There's a good-news story. I fired an e-mail off to Tony Devlin, the director of community services.

Showing that great minds think alike, or that fools seldom differ, Devlin was enthusiastic about the idea – to a point.

Devlin said the Midnight Sun Complex was outfitted with the devices, and the municipal staff had been trained on their use. While that's good for the town, it blew my idea down to this column.

I suddenly remembered a fairly big news story 18 months ago about a young NHL player named Brett MacLean.

MacLean, then 22, who had played for the Phoenix Coyotes and Winnipeg Jets, had a sudden cardiac incident while playing hockey in Owen Sound, Ont., in a new recreation complex not unlike the Midnight Sun. His life was saved by a defibrillator.

He has since retired from hockey.

That two arenas in small communities had defibrillators was prodding my political cynicism. I began to wonder why the Harper government would offer the money without researching if it was needed, or if the government had not done its research at all.

It's most unlikely that was the case. I've met Stephen Harper and had a chance to interview him. He struck me as a very intelligent, shrewd and calculating politician.

Harper undoubtedly had his staff research the issue of defibrillators. Thus he also knew that many arenas around Canada, like here in off-the-beaten-track Inuvik, had jumped on the defibrillator bandwagon some time ago.

So my question is, why would he provide the money just to hockey arenas and not other community facilities where there might be more need?

A column I read in one of the national newspapers a few days later also asked the question. The columnist came to the same conclusion that I had. It was part of a calculated, shrewd, perhaps even devious, public relations gesture.

That $10 million funding might never be used up since many arenas won't need to buy the defibrillators. However, most people will eat the image up, particularly those hockey-mad types who buy their coffees at a Tim Hortons. They comprise Harper's vision of the idealized Canadian citizen, and will never question the motive or realize they're being played like the proverbial violin.

As a taxpayer, I don't like being bribed with my own money. I like it even less when it's a $10-million PR stunt for the government. Shame on the government for subverting a good-news story into crass political opportunism.

When tragedy strikes and hearts are racing with a desire to get help quickly, who are you going to call?

That is the dilemma in Yellowknife and smaller communities in the Northwest Territories, where emergency services providers have different telephone numbers. For police in Yellowknife, it's any local prefix then 1111. For fire services or an ambulance in Yellowknife, the number to call is any local prefix then 2222. For others in North America, there is only one number to remember - 9-1-1.

Frame Lake MLA Wendy Bisaro is one of many people who want 9-1-1 service to be established in the capital city and the rest of the territory. She raised the issue in the legislative assembly last week and, quite correctly, pointed out that 85 to 90 per cent of territorial residents will have cellphone service in their communities within two years.

Cellphones have become so popular that many residents don't have a landline at home, relying instead on their mobile devices to stay connected. Given the nature of Yellowknife's transient population, how many people who find themselves in a precarious situation know the number to dial when emergency help is required?

Given a situation where seconds count because a victim is in serious need of medical attention, the difference between finding the right number to dial rather than calling 9-1-1 can mean the difference between life and death. It's happened before, in a 2000 incident involving a woman who fell through the ice outside of the city. She froze to death because help did not arrive in time, partially because cellphone coverage was spotty and partially because the person calling for help didn't know the correct number.

It is encouraging that Municipal and Community Affairs Minister Robert C. McLeod is willing to look at proposals to establish 9-1-1 phone service. And it has been proposed in previous feasibility studies that the logical next step is for 9-1-1 phone service to be established in Yellowknife using the existing RCMP call centre for emergencies in Yellowknife, Dettah, Ndilo and the Ingraham Trail before expansion to the communities.

There has been enough discussion and delays. Now is the time for the city of Yellowknife to get busy preparing a proposal, thus preventing another tragic outcome.

The Yellowknife RCMP's decision to reopen the investigation into an alleged assault of a woman by a municipal enforcement officer just prior to the start of last year's Santa Claus Parade was the right choice to make.

The altercation unfolded after a driver and her two grandchildren, age 11 and 4, were pulled over near 51 Avenue and 49 Street. Two bylaw officers were on the scene, and one of them allegedly tried to pull the still-belted driver out of her seat after twice trying to grab a cellphone from her hand, with which she was trying to call a family member.

The video cameras on the dashboard of the municipal enforcement vehicles had, unfortunately, been shut off.

Yellowknifer and some members of the public were concerned when RCMP declared the case closed earlier this month because police had not yet interviewed one of the witnesses who had come forward.

Thankfully, Chief Supt. Wade Blake, commanding officer of the RCMP G Division, asked officers to re-examine the file after reading an article in Yellowknifer ("Bylaw officer cleared of wrong-doing," Feb. 8).

Whether or not the bylaw officer in question, who has since left the city's employ for an unrelated reason, behaved rightly or wrongly, it is important RCMP rigorously pursue the truth. That includes interviewing all witnesses.

The city originally asked the RCMP to conduct the investigation to avoid any public perception of bias. However, for some, the premature closing of the case did the opposite. Now it is up to officers to shed light on what happened in a manner that bolsters public confidence in their investigation and in the way alleged infractions by bylaw officers are dealt with by the city.

The question being asked right now is whether Nunavummiut should be happy, upset, guardedly optimistic or simply complacent over Prime Minister Stephen Harper's appointment of New Brunswick Tory Bernard Valcourt as minister of Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development.

That actually depends on who you believe and which portrayal of Valcourt you see as being accurate.

The appointment came earlier this month after former minister John Duncan resigned after some ill-advised letter writing.

Valcourt is a hold-over, once removed during the Kim Campbell-led Tory annihilation, from the Brian Mulroney days.

He has held a number of ministerial portfolios over the years, including Fisheries and Oceans, the Atlantic Canada Opportunities Agency (ACOA), Consumer and Corporate Affairs and Employment and Immigration.

On our coasts, while certainly not as reviled as Fred Mifflin (author of the infamous Mifflin plan), he is dismissed in many corners as being more of an aquaculture minister than a true fisheries minister.

Valcourt is also viewed on the East Coast as Harper's pale rider, sent to trumpet the virtues of employment insurance reforms that hit hard a region that is desperately dependent on seasonal and parttime employment.

Suffice to say, for all Valcourt's selling of the reforms to the good people on the East Coast, they remain extremely unpopular among the populace.

And, he did about as much for the region heading up ACOA as any who preceded him, which is to say not much.

Valcourt still carries some dubious distinction with him from the 1980s. Although he paid a high price for one mistake with the loss of an eye, he was unceremoniously given the boot from cabinet after crashing his motorcycle while driving drunk.

While old news, the fact remains the outcome could have been a lot worse and shows Valcourt, at least as a younger man, was prone to some bad decision making.

On the other side of the coin, there are many who refer to Valcourt as a down-to-Earth, straight-shooting man who is not adverse to rolling up his sleeves and applying whatever amount of elbow grease is needed to solve a problem.

It's early in the game, but, to date, most of the attention on Valcourt's new position has been focused on the first part of his title and precious little on the latter.

Understandable, to a point, with Attawapiskat First Nation Chief Theresa Spence and the Mushkegowuk people being part of an urgent action on the elimination of racial discrimination being filed with the United Nations.

And, of course, there's that other little matter of protesters there illegally blockading an ice road to the Victor diamond mine.

But, eventually, we here in Nunavut will get Mr. Valcourt's attention on some of our always seemingly, less-important matters on the national front, and we'll finally get a read on just what kind of a new minister we have.

We can only hope Valcourt turns out to be the all-star performer many pundits have been crying to have appointed to the position, and one good enough to ensure his compass points North often enough that we will recognize him without our federal health minister holding his hand.

On Valentine's Day, NWT cabinet ministers and some regular MLAs showed their love for the federal government when they stopped Weledeh MLA Bob Bromley's motion on federal changes to environmental law.

The rare vote by cabinet ensured the defeat of Bromley's motion, which would have directed the GNWT to express its disappointment over the federal government's failure to consult with the territory when it passed bills C-38 and C-45. Both contained changes to Canada's environmental legislation.

Bromley, well-known for his passion concerning all-things environmental, called the changes a "federal assault" on the health of the territory.

Whether you share Bromley's passion for protecting the environment or not, there was a deeper, disturbing message carried in the response from cabinet.

Premier Bob McLeod proclaimed it to be the duty of the GNWT to respect the decisions and jurisdiction of the federal government. Finance Minister Michael Miltenberger argued that the GNWT cannot "tell them (the feds) we are unhappy and, oh, yes, we want more money."

Miltenberger concluded his statement with a theme common to like-minded MLAs, which was to say with a devolution deal so close, the territorial government can't rock the boat.

We don't necessarily agree that Bromley's position is correct. There are valid points made that environmental protections within the NWT will remain stringent enough to protect the land. It is also fair to say some regulatory relaxations are needed, considering the difficulty developers have had in the past, which have contributed to our suffering economy.

All those arguments would have been enough for cabinet to stand on, but instead they chose to use their speeches to publicly pucker up to the prime minister.

Contrary to McLeod's statement, the GNWT has a duty to criticize the federal government if it's warranted, just as it is the role of our MLAs to represent the will of their constituents.

In this case, that would be to stand up and tell the federal government Northerners demand and deserve effective consultation.

By kowtowing, the GNWT has shown its weak hand to the world. That does not bode well for success at the devolution negotiating table. Is our government strong enough to ensure the deal is fair? Is it fighting tooth and nail to ensure the people of the NWT get what they deserve? Or, as the recent legislative assembly exchange would suggest, is it nodding and smiling politely at everything the Government of Canada says?

It seems gone are the days when premiers such as Stephen Kakfwi would stand toe-to-toe with the federal government. He acted in solidarity with his Northern counterparts in 2003 to fight for more health-care funding, a deal that generated an extra $20 million for the NWT over three years.

Has the hunger for a devolution deal turned government leaders into mute ptarmigan who would rather allow Ottawa to walk all over them for fear it may jeopardize the deal and projects such as the Inuvik-Tuk highway?

The recent message from the assembly is clear: Dangle a few treats in front of our leaders and they will sit obediently for their masters in Ottawa. And that is the wrong message to send.

Northern mining executives must have grimaced at the news earlier this month that Shear Diamonds Ltd. abandoned its Jericho mine site, unplugged its phones and is hiding under a rock. It's this kind of thing that makes it hard to do business in the North.

When mines are being vetted by the public, during the impact review process, old grievances are often brought up. Companies like Agnico-Eagle Mines Ltd. and Baffinland have tried hard to drive home the message that mining today is different than it was years ago.

The spectre of projects such as Yellowknife's Giant Mine haunt the industry to this day - its infrastructure left to rot and its 237,000 tonnes of arsenic trioxide and 13.5 million tonnes of toxic tailings abandoned, all of which was eventually put on the taxpayer's bill to clean up.

Shear was required to pay a liability, although everyone's mum on whether it was actually paid.

When Royal Oak Mines Inc. went into receivership, the government was left footing the Giant Mine cleanup bill. Nunavummiut rightly want to know how they can trust that situation won't happen again today, on their land.

When a company like Shear skulks away under the cover of darkness, it damages the trust companies have been trying to rebuild. Worse yet, neither the Nunavut Impact Review Board or the federal government will yet say whose dollar might have to pick up Shear's cleanup tab. The taxpayer should be worried.

The government must go public on this situation. If the liability money was paid, get the word out now before the industry's reputation is further tarnished. If it wasn't paid, the government needs to come clean and start beefing up, or at least enforcing, its legislation. If it were enough to just trust a company would pay its liability eventually, we wouldn't need liability payments in the first place.

The Pangnirtung fishery industry is proving itself to be a huge economic boon to its community.

Pangnirtung Fisheries Ltd. created 35 jobs in 2012 - twice as many than the previous year - and had 92 licensed fishers hauling in 575,000 pounds of turbot, which it purchased and processed. Since this year's season started in late January, 240,000 pounds have been brought in.

General manager Michael Neumann predicts the plant could get 800,000 pounds this season, which ends in May. The fish is flown to Montreal and then sold to Asian markets abroad. Pangnirtung's role in these markets has brought more than $400,000 into the hamlet's economy this year for fishers and workers, Neumann said.

Those are great numbers for a sustainable industry that fits Nunavut like a glove. It's also a gold star for the Nunavut Development Corporation which made the necessary investments to set the stage for present and future success.

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