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Before the city moves ahead with its bid to host the Canada Winter Games, it needs to be sure visions of glory don't cloud its financial judgement. More importantly, council must ensure the public is onside.

City councillor Bob Brooks rightly points out that the 2023 Games will require the public's support through a referendum vote if the city is to borrow any money for them. With an estimated $56.8-million price tag - $20 million of which will come from city coffers - the prospect of borrowing seems likely.

The last referendum held by the city - asking voters permission in 2010 to borrow up to $49 million to build a district energy system - went badly. That's because instead of asking tough questions about the feasibility of such a system, all of city council save for one acted liked a bunch of pom-pom waving cheerleaders.

This greatly damaged their credibility when the city proved unable to answer basic questions, such as: how warm was the water it intended to draw from beneath Con Mine to supply the geothermal portion of the project?

The Canada Winter Games will likely be an easier sell than district energy was. People naturally want to be part of something exciting and glamorous, even if it costs a little extra. It will also mean a new aquatics centre if the city decides to host the Games.

But with a proposal to start setting aside money for the Games beginning next year, so far little has been said around the council table about whether the city should even proceed.

Brooks said the Games look expensive right now but a cost analysis has yet to be done, which will ultimately determine if the city can pull it off.

While the city touts facility upgrades, increased tourism and the financial benefits, there are many questions that remain unanswered as the city moves ahead. These numbers are preliminary and don't include other expenses, such as what it will cost to build the athlete's village.

The best thing council can do is get ahead of the Games, start asking questions and make sure people have the answers so that if and when a borrowing referendum comes, residents know what the consequences are.

If approved, the enormous cost figure required for the Games will cause adjustments to be made, whether they come in the form of tax increases, fee hikes, service cuts or added debt.

To ride the coattails of a receptive city administration without council challenging how these costs will affect Yellowknifers will be a recipe for opposition from the public.

Hello hello, Kivalliq. I'm Candace Thomson, and I'll be here in Rankin Inlet covering for Darrell Greer's vacation, slaving away at the news desk while he zips around the coast of Cape Breton, N.S., enjoying the sun. I figured I'd take the time to introduce myself before delving into this, my first editorial for you all.

This week I had the pleasure of speaking with two young people who had gone through the Royal

Canadian Army Cadet program. Desiree Autut and Lewis Sammurtok both started when they were in their early teens, and as I listened to them talking about all of the things they got to do with the cadets - going on summer trips, drill competitions, the weekly struggle of keeping one's uniform perfect - it made me think back to my own time in cadets.

I was an air cadet in the 783 Shelburne squadron in Shelburne, N.S., for a few years. I joined because my grandfather had been a doctor in the Air Force and I wanted to feel closer to him. That, and it made my grandmother happy to see me in the uniform. Speaking of uniforms, I think my least favourite part was going through the process of ironing pants and shirts, trying not to get burn marks on the thin material, and of course polishing boots. I would groan at the thought of it every Monday morning, knowing I'd have to come home from school and take care of it before I went.

After all the whining was done, however, I always felt proud about how my uniform looked. There were little traditions in our squadron like a prize for whoever had the shiniest boots, and of course kissing the brass (a brooch with the Air Cadet insignia we pinned to our wedges, or hats) whenever you accidentally dropped it. I was especially nervous about my uniform on the nights we had drill practice, something that terrified me for at least the entire first year.

Amidst all of the rules and the challenges that came with cadets, which really served to make you a more responsible young person, the experiences of joining together and competing as a team against other squadrons, going on trips to the various bases in Nova Scotia, among other things, were what really left you with memories. Lewis said he encourages others to join because you make the best memories you ever will make in your life, and he's not lying.

And that's why cadets is such an important program. It not only teaches kids to be responsible and gives them something to do, it lets them bond with others and travel, seeing different parts of Canada and meeting other cadets all over the country. It gives them a sense of pride to be a part of something, especially when their hard work is honoured with a promotion. For all of those kids who are bored, or feel a little lost, the cadet program can give them a sense of purpose and motivate them to do something with their lives.

With all of that said, I was told by Dorothy Tootoo, the commanding officer with the Army cadet corps here in Rankin, that they are in need of Cadet Instructors Cadre (CICs). If you're interested in helping out the local corps which provides so much for youth, give Dorothy a call. You don't need military or cadet experience to join up.

The squadron I was a member of back east is now in danger of being shut down permanently because of a lack of new cadets. I hope youth such as Autut and Sammurtok continue to inspire teens here in the Kivalliq to join, because it truly is a great experience.

Traditional skills are valuable. It's a mantra that Northern communities have been chanting for years and one that governments have tried to support in various ways.

However, the Tlicho Government's new Wilderness Training Safety Program might be the best idea in recent years to help create job opportunities from skills that have been past down for generations.

In a society that values pieces of paper legitimizing our skills, many people, especially elders who can be considered experts in the field of on-the-land knowledge, were losing out on opportunities they were most qualified for.

Many organizations require national certifications to hire people. The Tlicho's wilderness training initiative allowed participants to earn certificates in everything from firearm safety to ice rescues. Skills many of them had, but could not prove via recognized credentials.

Now, with those pieces of paper in hand, they can monetize those skills in the workforce.

The program also took it to the next level by offering supervisory training and financial literacy training, providing an opportunity to start a business.

It is ideas such as these that will help diversify the NWT's economy and provide more opportunities for Northerners to join the workforce or become employers themselves.

Congratulations to the graduates of the program and kudos to the Tlicho Government for bringing the opportunity forward. Hopefully similar training and more creative ideas are forthcoming to help get Northerners working that do not rely explicitly on resource development.

The Dene Nation celebrated 115 years of Treaty 8 during its annual assembly from June 16 to 20. They used the milestone and the gathering to remind people of the importance of the treaties and the commitments the Canadian government made to First Nations people more than a century ago.

Delegates and leaders emphasized the role First Nations should play in the economic and resource development on their traditional lands and criticized governments for moving ahead on projects without proper approvals from bands and aboriginal governments in the area - a right that was enshrined in the spirit of the treaties when they were agreed upon.

Crushing the Canadian economy, nor blocking all development, is the agenda of the Dene people. They only want their rights to be observed and respected, rights that were enshrined in law more than 100 years ago.

Respect those rights and industry and government will likely find less opposition and more co-operation at the table when meeting with the Dene people, assuming concessions are made to ensure First Nation voices are heard and incorporated into development plans.

After all they have been through - giving testimony, reliving horrific times from the past, enduring a legal process, listening to apologies and receiving compensation -- promises made in good faith must be honoured for residential school survivors, including up to 3,000 Nunavummiut, as the compensation process wraps up.

The Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement spells out that the memories of survivors recalled at public hearings, written down in court documents or told to workers within the system would be kept confidential.

At a recent access and privacy conference, chief adjudicator Dan Shapiro outlined the position he plans on presenting to the Ontario Superior Court of Justice in July when the court hears legal arguments on what to do with Independent Assessment Process records in 2016. That is when the process of compensation to thousands of victims is expected to be complete.

It has been a long and arduous process made even more difficult with evidence that lawyers and law firms bilked some victims out of a portion of their settlement money by charging exorbitantly to fill out forms and complete paper work. Some even counselled victims to exaggerate claims so they could receive higher compensation.

It is time for some honesty, which means that promises of confidentiality must be kept. Shapiro said he plans to argue that the only way complete confidentiality of participants can be respected and their dignity preserved is through the destruction of all records.

The records, in many cases, are very personal. The details of what happened to young people, taken away from the families and communities and forced to attend federal residential schools is heart-wrenching. Students suffered sexual, physical or emotional abuse and were left with unimaginable pain that has impacted them for their entire lives. They deserve the ability to put the Independent Assessment Process - another system foisted upon them, although with good intentions - behind them. The documents containing the names and testimony are no longer needed once the process is complete.

What happened cannot be swept under the rug, either. History forgotten repeats itself and it is vital that future generations be told about the mistakes of the past, the cruel and unusual treatment done to rightful citizens of Canada, children no less.

That dark topic is being chronicled in history books and textbooks, made a mandatory part of the social studies curriculum in schools across Canada. For future generations to understand, testimony and details of the abuse must be documented, without naming names, and with a degree of respect and sense of dignity.

Give the remaining survivors the ability to heal but don't allow others to forget.

Last September, after a spate of random attacks and sexual assaults, the RCMP issued a statement explaining a recent flurry of news releases.

"The Yellowknife RCMP, has over the years developed a practice of reporting what are typically considered 'newsworthy' events," it read, adding the purpose of news release is to "allow for public awareness of what is happening in the community that requires police investigation."

Hear, hear! we say. The police must report such attacks to the media. How else can people be informed?

Nonetheless, a woman complained during a town hall meeting on community safety last week that some residents and media are perpetuating a culture of "fear-mongering" and the city's homeless population were being unfairly blamed. RCMP Insp. Frank Gallagher and Mayor Mark Heyck concurred.

The fact is, RCMP sent out at least eight news releases after the attacks last year, just as yesterday another news release was issued regarding two suspects in a home invasion (see story page 5).

It's also a fact one of Heyck's very first acts after being elected mayor was to propose the city hire its own RCMP officers. He didn't think there were enough police downtown. When told by RCMP at a committee meeting violent crime was down, which Yellowknifer also reported, Heyck suggested "things could go up again."

Yellowknifer's role is to report the news, not bury negative news and trumpet glowing reports of a safe city despite sexual assaults on the McMahon Frame Lake Trail and elsewhere.

We agree the Frame Lake Trail, and the city as a whole, is generally safe. Gallagher and Heyck would likely have little to fear walking the trail at night. Many women do not feel the same - and for good reason. There have been sexual assaults on the trail just about every summer in recent years.

That the city's homeless are being blamed is worrisome. Yellowknifer publishes many stories that offer up other views of the homeless, to promote deeper understanding of the complex human issues at work.

Sniping at the media aside, the mayor and RCMP have responded correctly to incidents of violence by warning the public and suggesting ways to make people feel safer.

We encourage the continued free flow of information from the RCMP while the mayor should focus less on controlling the message and more on how to make the city a safer place.

It's an industry that has become thin and dehydrated over time - but last week, it got a small cup of water.

The secondary diamond industry involves the cutting and polishing of rough diamonds, which are otherwise shipped far outside the territory for processing. In Yellowknife, in 2003, it was an industry that employed nearly 200 people working in four separate plants on what's colloquially known as "diamond row." Today, just one plant remains.

But the GNWT's $1.79 million official sale of two diamond cutting and polishing factories to Deepak International Ltd. June 19 represents a faint hope the industry could become viable once more, should the necessary elements align.

At one time, the GNWT and the diamond operators within the territory signed an agreement that stipulated - albeit in a non-legally-binding way - 10 per cent of rough diamonds be set aside for Yellowknife manufacturers.

It's unclear if that was ever fully achieved or what the government's intended role, if anything, is in the secondary diamond industry now, but according to NWT Diamonds - a report by the NWT and Nunavut Chamber of Mines - in 2008 just 1.3 per cent of all diamonds mined in the territory were polished locally.

While re-opening a processing plant is good for the economic spin-offs it will bring through local jobs, it is only one piece of the puzzle. Government legislation that mandates that 10 per cent figure, coupled with co-operation from the diamond companies in the area - are at the heart of the healthy version of an industry that has been on the rocks for a decade.

The Dehcho First Nations' annual assembly is underway in Jean Marie River this week.

Attending the assembly at least once should be mandatory for every Deh Cho resident. Even spending one day at the assembly is a learning experience.

Most Deh Cho residents probably aren't aware of most of what their First Nation or Metis local does, let alone what Dehcho First Nations (DFN) does on a regional level. They may also only have a vague understanding of how DFN reaches the positions it expounds upon for the region.

The assembly shows Deh Cho politics at its best and also, sometimes, at its worst.

As the main annual gathering, the major decisions that will carry DFN throughout the rest of the year are supposed to be decided upon and passed at the assembly. Those watching the proceedings get a glimpse of the large amount of work it takes to prepare for the assembly and why progress on issues in the Deh Cho, like the Dehcho Process, seem to move so slowly.

Coming into the assembly, all of the leaders and delegates need to have the same background information. Although presentations are made on the major topics, unless you've been following along, sometimes for years, it's difficult to understand the stage that something like the Dehcho Process negotiations have reached and how they got there.

Leaders can't make informed decisions and set mandates for future work unless they know the background context. Those foundations are what DFN has to build in advance of the assembly.

The assembly also shows the scope of the issues that the region is dealing with. Although things have gotten better at recent assemblies, there is often a push to fit in every topic on the agenda. In some cases, topics or planned presentations have to be set aside for other meetings. Sometimes frustration has mounted when topics that need decisions are only fit-in at the last minute.

The leaders and delegates have a lot of information to listen to, digest and make decisions on in a short time at the annual assembly.

For all its faults, however, the assembly is also a demonstration of why the region and the Dehcho First Nations work. Leaders from communities that often have different viewpoints and needs are able to come together in one circle, talk things out and often reach unanimous

decisions.

The political processes that DFN is engaged in are often ponderous, but the assembly shows the region's strength, determination and hopes for the future.

His question asking whether education officials should be searching for third-party sponsors to provide small tokens for non-aboriginal graduates to match those provided by the Inuvialuit Regional Corporation and the Gwich'in Tribal Council is simple.

There is no question that non-aboriginal and Metis graduates feel stigmatized when seeing the people they shared classrooms and hallways with for years receive a gift on graduation day.

MacDonald is quietly calling into question the judgement of his fellow education council representatives by bringing the issue to the forefront.

There's nothing wrong with the IRC or the tribal council rewarding their members with gifts of appreciation for graduating from high school. Considering the education problems in the North, any little bit of encouragement is a good idea.

What is embarrassing, and a bit shameful, is that nothing has been done to ease the embarrassment for the admittedly small number of students who do not belong to the Inuvialuit or Gwich'in organizations.

It's embarrassing and awkward that none of the educational staff, or the elected representatives, seem to have thought that omission was a big deal. That is questionable judgement indeed. Other organizations, notably Aurora College, addressed the issue long ago with an inclusive program,

staff members say.

It is certainly the education council's job to protect students who do not feel comfortable at a public event sanctioned by the school's under its umbrella. And it is certainly correct for MacDonald to bring the issue forward in the best interest of the students who have been left out. In other jurisdictions, a simple solution has been happening for years. Members of the Yellowknives Dene who graduate high school are recognized at a social function organized and attended by the Yellowknives Dene, where the graduates are given recognition, congratulations and tokens of appreciation for their accomplishments.

Neither the Inuvialiut or the Gwich'in organizations see the gifts as paying students to graduate. There are plenty of incentives for students to complete secondary school.

This is an opportunity for the Inuvik District Education Council to show some leadership and suggest the Inuvialuit Regional Corporation and the Gwich'in Tribal Council hold their own events to recognize their members who have achieved success.

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