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This past weekend, another sexual assault in Yellowknife came to light, this time at Somba K'e Park on September 7.

On September 15, Kelley Hinchey was assaulted while she slept in her home in Range Lake bringing the total of assaults on women over the past few months to five.

"Many of the complaints received are from persons with limited knowledge of the justice system and, as such, are reported as the complainant views the situation to be." That comes from a media release last week drafted by Insp. Frank Gallagher, commander of the Yellowknife RCMP detachment. So, in other words, people are overreacting, sexual assaults are not up.

Whether or not the numbers show an increase, women do not feel safe in our city. That is the problem.

Last week, in the interest of doing something concrete, city councillor Niels Konge introduced a measure to remove many of the benches from downtown, citing his, and many other Yellowknifers', observances that the benches attract those who loiter and drink in public. Yellowknifer spoke to business owners along Franklin Avenue who said such people scare away customers.

Konge's measure was shot down. While he appears to be the only councillor with a firm plan, the benches aren't contributing to crime. It's the lack of a police presence that encourages people to do as they please, whether it's fighting, drinking, passing out or harassing strangers.

At any given time, there are only seven RCMP officers on patrol during a shift. That means there is, approximately, one officer for every 2,750 people in the city. Our police force is spread too thin.

The answer, simply, is that Yellowknife needs more police officers, at least until public confidence returns.

Mayor Mark Heyck's suggestion of two new RCMP police officers with the specific job of patrolling downtown is on the right track. That won't happen unless the Government of the NWT and Justice Minister Glen Abernethy take action.

The GNWT awards the RCMP the contract for policing the NWT. Money talks. The GNWT can tell the RCMP the capital city needs more police officers. If that costs more, so be it. And if cabinet members or MLAs from ridings outside Yellowknife try to block the increase because of the lack of police in their communities, we have to remind them their people come to this city as well. If all Northerners are to be kept safe in the capital of the NWT, more police is the only way to do it.

Studies have shown that an increased police presence in high crime areas helps. A 1995 study published in Justice Quarterly and sponsored by the U.S. Department of Justice demonstrated just that. Certain areas in Minneapolis that were given an increased police presence saw their crime rates drop versus those that maintained the status quo.

We can't wait for things to get worse, or hope that the problem goes away. If people don't feel safe in Yellowknife, then it's just a matter of time before they leave for a place that feels safer, which makes for an economic loss for the city and the territory through decreased transfer funds.

We encourage the women of Yellowknife to continue speaking out, demanding a safer city. One woman's decision to do so sparked serious discussion.

More such voices are needed to transform our politicians' words into action.

It was interesting to listen to all the talk of the need for a regional athletic centre in the Kivalliq recently.

There's no denying a lot of what was said made a great deal of sense, even if some of the things being described would have to be filed as wishful thinking.

Maybe it was getting caught up in the moment, with all the positive vibes floating around, or maybe it was really nothing more than a case of selective vision.

Whatever the reason, especially during the mayor's meetings, almost everyone gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up to the ideas being expressed, while seemingly oblivious to the 7,000 kg white elephant sitting quietly in the room.

It had a Baffin-esque trunk that one could tell from a glance was highly efficient, and large, finely-tuned Kitikmeot-esque ears that missed nary a word being spoken.

While somewhat docile in its overall nature, this particular elephant is known to be fiercely protective of what it views as its personal turf, especially when it comes to a rival herd trying to wiggle a trunk into position for a little sip from the territorial trough.

It has a begrudging respect for the Kivalliq herd, but likes for it to stay in its place and not try to extend its collective trunk beyond its reach.

It's convinced the transportation centre of the Kivalliq already gets more than its share, and its large ears can vibrate wildly at the faintest whisper of gain for the area.

The action produces a virtual whirlwind of hot air, aimed directly at whatever entity it sees as in cahoots with the Kivalliq herd.

While its ears know they are destined to always be behind its own trunk, they have no intention of allowing the Kivalliq herd to slip a trunk past them in the pecking order.

The Kitikmeot-esque ears know the size of the Kivalliq herd's appetite if left unchecked, and have designated themselves Nunavut's balance control committee.

When the words Rankin Inlet and regional centre are used in the same sentence, the white elephant springs into action.

The trunk trumpets its importance as a capital figure for all to hear, while the ears whirl and twirl and do their best to disrupt the process, usually employing woe-is-me as a dependable ally.

Rankin, meanwhile, patiently waits for the done deal of years ago, in the form of a new arena and community hall to materialize.

It was already burned by the white elephant when it allowed itself to dream of a new complex to hold its arena.

But Rankin learned its lesson from that experience, even if the white elephant was aided at the time by a wayward calf who wandered too far from home in Coral Harbour.

As nice as the words sound, and as beneficial to every member of the Kivalliq herd as a regional athletic centre would be, the white elephant need not worry.

It's not going to happen, at least not anytime soon, and if Rankin does get a new arena, the rest of the herd know it will share its new-found wealth with the region.

Best to leave the white elephant be for right now, with an election right around the corner.

Better the Kivalliq herd silently keeps its fingers crossed for one of its own to be crowned dominant male of the entire Nunavut herd.

Then the white elephant can start to worry.

It's no secret. Liquor leads to tons of grief not just in the NWT, but nationwide. That's why communities in the Sahtu with liquor restrictions or total prohibitions are championing the proposed amendment of the NWT Liquor Act, which would allow all Sahtu communities to vote in plebiscites regarding liquor restrictions in Norman Wells.

Community members say they've seen alcohol-fuelled social problems increase since a Norman Wells plebiscite lifted the town's liquor restrictions in 2012.

The tough discussions surrounding Sahtu MLA Norman Yakeleya's private member's bill are important, putting forward the issues of underage drinking, heavy drinking, and crime related to alcohol. Everything the communities are saying is true. But another truth is that alcohol is a legally-regulated substance in the NWT.

Resident Andrew Bailes is right when he says Norman Wells shouldn't be held responsible for liquor-related problems in other communities. It's strictly up to the individual community to decide what kinds of restrictions or bans should be in place.

Sadly, as long as there are people who want alcohol in dry communities, they will find ways to get it, and there will be people willing to break the law to bring it into the community. Residents must take personal responsibility for alcohol coming into restricted or prohibited communities. Simply put, people don't have to drink it. People could hand over the bootleggers.

It's fair for the communities to voice their concerns, and the government should be listening to the dialogue developing in the Sahtu surrounding the harsh grip

of alcohol and its devastating effects.

This is especially pertinent as the health department closes the territory's only addictions treatment centre in Hay River and explores on-the-land and community-driven healing programs.

It takes guts to take a stand against the government force that provides major funding for a community. Hay River is doing just that in giving the Department of Municipal and Community Affairs six months to fix a flawed funding formula for the municipality.

If after that time, no progress has been made, the town will remove its services, such as water and sewage treatment, fire rescue and ambulance service from surrounding communities, including Enterprise, Kakisa and the Hay River Reserve.

It's a serious statement, and one that is evidently needed to push government along in creating a fair funding system for the territory.

In 2011, funding was cut across the board to communities, with Hay River losing $300,000. In 2012, Hay River realized while the funding was back up in many NWT communities, the town's funding continued to fall short.

It is providing services to communities but not getting the proper funding for these actions. It needs to be recognized as the regional centre it is and be funded accordingly.

While the communities anxiously await a handshake between Hay River and MACA, they should support the town that provides much-needed services in its endeavour for fair funding.

The story about a four-bedroom house in Repulse Bay that is called home by 22 family members puts a face on a widespread crisis that is experienced in many Nunavut communities.

It is sad that so many Nunavummiut live in deplorable conditions.

For the past two to three years, the members of the extended family jockey for time in the bathroom, sit on the floor to eat food and share eight beds among five adults and 17 children between five months and 14 years old. None of the adults have been able to find work and, although some of the adults have applied for public housing, they haven't been selected to receive help.

Nunavut Housing Corporation president Alain Barriault told the legislative assembly earlier this month that Iqaluit needs an additional five houses for every 10 houses they have. The situation is similar in Repulse Bay, Arviat and Clyde River.

We are calling it a crisis because, overall, the territory needs more than 3,500 units to alleviate overcrowding, according to Peter Taptuna, the minister responsible for the Nunavut Housing Corporation.

He told the legislative assembly earlier this month that the estimated cost to provide that many housing units would be more than $1 billion.

What is being done?

The federal government committed $100 million for 210 new housing units in Nunavut during its budget announcement in March. Although that number falls far short of the need, it gets worse. Only $30 million of that $100 million is forthcoming, six months after Prime Minister Stephen Harper announced the Canadian Mortgage and Housing Corporation funding was being made available. Ottawa said Sept. 12 that it is providing $30 million now as the first portion of a two-year assistance program.

The shortage of housing is front of mind for many people in Nunavut and is shaping up to be a major issue among territorial politicians as the Oct. 28 territorial election approaches - as it should be.

While 22 people living in one four-bedroom house is certain to get attention, the overall numbers are astounding.

Less than 10 per cent of the housing needs in Nunavut are being addressed. The federal money will allow for 250 new housing units to be provided over the next two years when there is a demonstrated need for between 3,000 and 3,500 housing units.

Months have passed since federal Finance Minister Jim Flaherty tabled his budget to huge fanfare on Parliament Hill and the money is finally flowing. The housing corporation has said that Repulse Bay will receive 20 of the 210 new housing units.

What about the hundreds of other homes that are needed?

Urgent action by the federal and territorial governments is needed to address this out-of-control issue sooner than later.

City council is clearly frustrated, as many residents are, about the amount of dog waste being left on city streets and public trails.

Administration had removed a provision in the redrafted dog bylaw that would have required dog owners to carry bags with them while walking their pets. Council wants it back in.

The controversial requirement was removed after members of the public questioned whether it was fair. A dog owner might be out with two dogs with four or five bags in pocket, or so the argument goes, but run out just as bylaw officer approaches with ticket book in hand.

To this we say, well, too bad. That would be a hassle but clearly something must be done because the status quo is clearly not working. The parks and trails are more full of poop than ever. A dog waste bag requirement might at least get people thinking about being prepared to pick up their pet's poop before heading out the door.

City councillor Adrian Bell had it right when he said, "To me, what's inconvenient, what is unsettling, is the amount of feces on our streets."

Whether feces on the streets and trails, in parks and schoolyards, is inconvenient, unsettling or disgusting is not the only point to be made.

Fecal matter improperly disposed of is a full-on public health issue.

Diseases can be transmitted to humans by direct contact and through flies and parasites. Worst, dog feces left to freeze does thaw eventually, becoming an even greater health hazard as it moulders and festers under our bright spring sun, multiplying bacteria and hatching parasites.

Aside from human health, there's that thing we call the environment. According to the Canadian Public Health Association, "pet poop that is left in yards, fields, parks and on sidewalks eventually ends up in rivers, lakes and other bodies of water. It is carried there by spring run-off and heavy rainfalls, either directly or via storm sewers."

This leads to higher nitrogen and phosphorus levels, encouraging oxygen-robbing algae to bloom, which kills fish and other organisms.

Yellowknife isn't the only city struggling with this problem. Municipalities across Canada, and the world, have to crack down on wayward and irresponsible dog owners.

In the U.S., it is reported that 78 million dogs create 10 million tonnes of fecal waste annually. In 1991, the Environmental Protection Agency placed dog feces in the same health category as oil and toxic chemicals.

There are responsible dog owners, and it's unfortunate that the city has to legislate because of irresponsible people. However, responsible dog owners won't be paying any price as a result of the proposed bylaw because, de facto, they are picking up the feces their dogs leave behind. And in order to do so, they carry bags.

Yellowknife wouldn't be alone in having a dog waste bag rule. Calgary requires dog owners to be armed with bags while out for a walk too. The minimum penalty for failing to remove feces is a fine of $150. The minimum penalty for not having suitable means to remove feces is also fine of $150 - both fines are quite reasonable.

Whitehorse has a similar bylaw, and most municipalities exercise some form of authority over fecal management. Since council is pushing for municipal enforcement officers to make more foot patrols of our trails after a number of serious attacks on women, it only makes sense that they could use the patrols as an opportunity to make sure people are picking up after their dogs and have the means to do so.

Owning a dog is a privilege that comes with responsibility. Living in Yellowknife is also a privilege that comes with responsibilities.

Carry bags or pay the price.

Many students in the Deh Cho participated in culture or fall camp during the first weeks of school. The camps allow students to learn traditional activities while enjoying some fresh air – creating a positive environment for cultural learning.

I attended fall camp for an afternoon with a group of elementary students in Fort Simpson. The boat ride across the mighty Mackenzie River was a great way to start. On the other side of the river, I met an elder who told me the importance of passing on traditional knowledge to students before it gets lost. He led the group into the forest, a rifle across his shoulders, stopping along the way to let us know how to find our way into the forest looking at the bark of a birch tree. He then checked his snare traps as the group picked Labrador tea leaves. We learned which plants would yield the best-tasting leaves.

Earlier in the day, an agriculturalist presented students with garden-grown vegetables, including carrots, broccoli and kohlrabi, emphasizing how better they taste compared with those at the grocery store.

The culture camp also provides stimulus to our sense of smell, taste, and our ability to create sustenance for ourselves outside of the comforts of home. Labrador tea was brewing on the fire. A vegetable soup was simmering in a pot. Fresh bannock was available. Meat was cooking in a pan.

In another area, meat and fish the students had prepared was hanging to dry, which would be a pleasure to eat once it acquired the smoke flavour of the fire below.

Youth have to balance traditional knowledge with modern influences. It's not always easy to practise your hunting or fishing skills when a computer game is tempting you at home. The key is finding the right balance, but at a young age, that balance might be difficult to find. Sometimes participating in traditional activities as part of a group is motivation enough.

Culture camp also provides an opportunity for students to be active. Walking in the forest, taking in some fresh air and spending the day outside exposed to the elements is both refreshing and invigorating.

Students from Jean Marie River and Nahanni Butte are also scheduled to discover new things and learn traditional knowledge during their respective culture camps coming up.

And what a great time of year to do it when the leaves are changing colour, offering a spectacular view of nature.

I've come to the conclusion that having to gather my own food would be a great way to lose weight.

That sad realization was forced unwillingly upon me by another round of berry foraging with my botanical guru David Bob.

Bob, the student wellness co-ordinator at the Aurora Campus, invited me for more berry-picking lessons on a wet, cool afternoon at Jak Park.

Our prey was the much-sought cranberry.

I had visited the park a few days earlier for some on-the-land workshops offered during the Gwich'in Tribal Council's self-government conference. At that time, an elder told me there were basically no cranberries to be found.

Bob was determined to go out, thinking some patches had been overlooked.

Of course, we had to go bush-whacking to find these patches, mostly amongst game trails that he casually suggested were made by bears.

That was an immediate distraction.

I'm way more interested in bears than berries, and found the idea of coming face-to-face with one in the bush far more intriguing that stooping and picking.

Bob, being a practical sort, pointed out his husky pup Inuk would warn us if any bears were around. That was a not-so-subtle hint to "git picking."

I did my best, and found cranberries a good deal easier to pick than my earlier attempts at blueberries and gooseberries.

It didn't take long for me to discover that every sinkhole in the spongy muskeg in the forest made it easier to spot and pick the berries. Those holes seemed to be a uniform two feet deep, which brought me that much closer to eye level with the luscious fruits.

It also brought me closer to Inuk's level, and that dog likes berries almost as much as he likes playing.

I had painstakingly picked just enough berries to inadequately cover the bottom of my plastic container when Inuk enthusiastically dumped them.

I groaned, and discussed in some detail with the pup that it had taken me almost an hour to collect that many.

Bob did his best to stifle a smirk as he put him on a leash.

I muttered "I'd lose a lot of weight if I was lost in the bush."

Bob agreed a trifle too enthusiastically.

"Yup, you'd want to be lost with me in the woods if you wanted to eat," he said.

The whole process did provide some food for thought, though, if not my stomach, as I pondered just how much time people spent gathering enough food for a Northern winter while living a traditional lifestyle.

It's a sobering reminder of how easy we have it now, and how much sheer skill, endurance, co-operation and knowledge went into living off the land.

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