Roger Allen, where are you? Strange things are taking place on your watch in the Justice Department.

First, a former MLA hired to run the Territorial Correction Centre for Women sits at home, on full pay. The government's top corrections official suddenly "retires" following negotiations with Justice Department staff.

Two new officials are appointed where there was just one before, with new responsibilities, and a new focus on corrections.

Through it all, the justice minister has remained in the background. Questions go unanswered.

Most notable is the swift rise and fall of Jeannie Marie Jewell.

She was only appointed warden of the women's prison in Fort Smith last summer. Late last month, however, she was suspended from the job and subsequently fired. The government has promised her a new job, but how long will that take?

Circumstances surrounding her surprise appointment remain as unclear as her sudden dismissal. Some have suggested she got the job thanks to a political appointment. Jewell believes she lost her job due to political interference.

Also curious is the sudden departure of John Dillon. He was the NWT's director of corrections until his retirement was announced two weeks after Jewell's suspension.

How much did that cost? And why was it necessary to turf an official who, by most appearances, was doing a good job?

Was it politics at play? The question begs an answer. Especially when people's reputations and taxpayers' money are on the line.

The territorial government has offered no legitimate reason to explain why it refuses to consider having an aboriginal police force in the Beaufort Delta.

Steve Iveson, executive director of negotiations for the territorial Department of Aboriginal Affairs, just said the request did not fit into the context of the self-government agreement. He further explained that the Southern aboriginal police model -- which involves reserve land -- would not work here.

He is right about that. It would not work here because we do not have such a system.

But everyone else besides the territorial government seems to be feel an aboriginal police force is not out of the question. In 1999, Beaufort Delta chief negotiator Bob Simpson said the following about establishing an aboriginal police force: "We'll always have some sort of connection because it's a national police force (referring to the RCMP) and we want to make sure all part of some overall network."

The federal government has set aside money to fund an aboriginal police force.

RCMP Cpl. Doug Reti was in the Delta in 1999 to conduct the first-ever survey of policing in aboriginal communities. He said the survey was particularly relevant then in light of self-government negotiations.

There is money available and obvious support from other aboriginal communities, the police and the federal government for an aboriginal police force.

Governments, community leaders and the police must work together and decide what duties should be handled by the aboriginal police force and those that should remain under the jurisdiction of the RCMP. Just saying "no" is not an option.

What do Inuit diabetes rates, Cumberland Sound's garbage and climate change have in common? At first glance, not much, other than they've all made the news in Northern media in recent weeks.

All three issues, however, raise the same policy challenge for governments and society as a whole: how do we go about tackling problems before they get too expensive to solve?

First, diabetes. It's not a big problem yet, but health researchers say it's only a matter of time before the cost of treating Inuit suffering from both forms of the disease gets out of hand. The recommended course action is more education about how a good diet can prevent diabetes from developing. But can we force people to learn?

Second, garbage on Cumberland Sound. It's already bad enough that one federal granting agency has come up with more than $18,000 to help hunters and trappers gather and incinerate trash from outposts and camps. A worthy project, but what are we doing to make sure more doesn't pile up?

Third, climate change. This one would seem to be beyond our abilities to address as a territory, but is that an excuse for inaction? Can we complain about its effects if we're part of the cause?

In all three cases, the government has its disposal the tools to encourage change in individual and institutional habits.

We could tax junk food the same way we tax tobacco, in hopes of encouraging better diets. We could increase surveillance of camps, and fine those who don't keep them clean. We could shift to non-polluting sources of fuel (saving money in the process) to do our part in preventing global warming.

We could do all these things. All it takes is the understanding that prevention is invariably cheaper than treating a full-blown problem. That and the courage to introduce programs that won't be popular.

A tried, tested and true cultural camp in Panniqtuuq is in serious jeopardy. For the last 10 years, the camp has instilled pride in hundreds of students.

Language use and development and the relationship between modern science and Inuit wisdom are core principles of the camp. By mixing with elders, harvesting their first caribou or seal, and learning first-hand how their ancestors survived, some 450 youths walk a little taller.

All of that stands to be lost due to government cutbacks.

Donald Mearns, the high school principal and a key organizer at the camp, said he learned recently it would get just $17,000 of the necessary $68,500. Mearns said he is doubly frustrated because of the lack of commitment from public and Inuit organizations.

He said given the amount of time all levels of government spend talking about Inuktitut and Inuit qaujimajatuqangit, he is disheartened to have to fight for a project that has proven its own worth. The absurdity is compounded by the lack of financial commitment during the territory's language week -- a week when leaders are quick to jump to the pulpit and shout words like "promote," "protect," "culture" and "Inuktitut."

The government struggles to provide basic needs for Nunavummiut. But while language and culture are as important as housing, health and education, our leadership refuses to throw even a fraction of the needed money at the issue. The Department of Culture, Language, Elders and Youth, for example, struggles by on just $7 million a year.

The problem is complex and not easily solved. But at the very least, our leaders in government and at Inuit organizations must begin to back up their words with money. Perhaps the next budget will finally reflect the cultural commitment they claim to possess.

Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News

We agree completely with Mike Shouldice's contention that language and culture are inseparable.

The campus director for Nunavut Arctic College in Rankin Inlet raised some valid points about what Nunavut's new Language Act should look like when eventually passed into legislation (please see our story on page 3).

However, the Nunavut government would be well advised to tread carefully with our new Language Act and avoid drawing comparisons to Quebec's Bill 101.

The Language Act should focus on implementing standards to help preserve Inuktitut as part of Inuit culture. Its primary purpose should be to help protect Inuktitut to ensure its survival, and be an invaluable resource in helping Inuit with their education and job opportunities.

It should not, however, be so stringent as to retard the development of tourism or dissuade companies from wanting to do business in Nunavut.

The comparison to Bill 101 is ill-conceived. First and foremost because French is one of Canada's two official languages. Second, the province of Quebec pours more money into the federal coffers in a year than Nunavut will be capable of doing for decades.

Even with those two points, Quebec often faces business hurdles due to the language barrier Bill 101 has the ability to create.

Make no mistake about it: how we're perceived by the rest of Canada will go a long way in aiding or inhibiting our future development as a territory -- whether we like it or not.

One national daily has already written a scathing editorial on the move towards a Nunavut Language Act, which drew a negative reaction from a good number of Canadians towards the initiative.

It's daunting enough that we are constantly looked upon in some areas as the nation's poor cousin, always with our hands out for more funding from Ottawa.

Should we add arrogance to that viewpoint, we accomplish nothing but to put another arrow in the quiver of those who see Nunavut as nothing more than the creation of the biggest welfare state in the free world.

We, of course, know we will prove our worth to the rest of the nation as time goes by. Nunavut will eventually come to symbolize the success of aboriginal self-government. We will see the day when we are more to Canada than simply a show of sovereignty in the North and another colour in our nation's rainbow of cultural diversity.

But we must reach our objectives as harmoniously as we can with the rest of our country. Preserving Inuktitut and defining culture should be a top priority with the Nunavut government -- as should projecting our image as proud Canadians.

Editorial Comment
Malcolm Gorrill
Inuvik Drum

A single step does not a journey make.

This week's plebiscite results are good news for proponents of the proposed family centre in Inuvik. Ratepayers have given the go ahead to a proposal in which the town would borrow up to $5 million to help finance its construction.

Before long residents may be able to go swimming in January, and take advantage of the other amenities planned for the facility.

However, this is just one step in what would be a very long process, should the family centre idea come to fruition.

In fact, arguably for organizers the hard part is just beginning. Now it's time for specifics. More detailed plans and drawings have to be done, along with more consultations with the public.

Over the coming weeks and months people will try to arrive at more exact figures for constructing and operating the facility. Ideally organizers will receive many suggestions on how to keep costs down, as well as other ideas on how to make the family centre truly a place for all residents.

Fundraising the target of $1 million will also be a challenge. It will require a lot of dedicated people giving up potentially hours and hours of their free time to plan and host events and other ways to raise money.

What remains to be seen is whether the estimated costs remain accurate as more details are worked out, and that residents can afford such a centre.

That being said, such a centre could be a real boost for the entire community, providing benefits for residents and making the town more attractive to others.

The idea of a year-round pool in Inuvik has floated around for years. The current family centre committee owes its origins directly from a public meeting held last April to measure the level of interest in such a facility.

Buildings like the family centre do not spring into being overnight, nor without a lot of effort.

Special week being marked

Local youth are helping to mark Scout/Guide Week.

Both are very worthwhile organizations, and there are clubs spread out all over the world.

From the time I have spent around the local groups, the youngsters seem to learn a lot of useful information while having a lot of fun along the way.

Editorial Comment
Derek Neary
Deh Cho Drum, Fort Simpson

Certainty. That's the word industry uses before they agree to set up shop. Certainty means the welcome mat has to be rolled out -- political approval is at the heart of it.

Like pregnancy, certainty is an absolute. You can't be somewhat certain, either you are or you are not. Simply put, the Deh Cho lacks certainty, at least in the industrial sense.

As industry-types explain, investors don't want to spend their money in a place where they're chances of return are hindered by resistance.

Even though lands outside of Fort Liard are not open for oil and gas exploration (or mining), last week's Deh Cho resource development conference once again proved that this region has a wealth of attractive resource prospects. Had the conference preceded a call for bids on parcels of land, there would undoubtedly have been a plethora of oil and gas executives mingling among the crowd.

That was not the case, however. Last week's conference was an information exchange, primarily between First Nations, business and government. There were some industry representatives who made an effort to get a foot in the door, but not too many. They know the time still isn't right.

The Deh Cho First Nations are pursuing an ambitious objective in self-government. But it's a goal that is currently not compatible with development. On the contrary, the DCFN is using the promise of development as leverage to gain an advantage in negotiations with the federal government. How much longer until that issue is resolved, at least through an interim agreement?

Fort Liard leaders and business managers are warning that the DCFN will cause the rest of the Deh Cho communities to lose out on opportunities associated with a Mackenzie Valley pipeline and other projects.

By hosting a conference like the one last week, the Liidlii Kue First Nation is, at least, demonstrating that it is willing to listen.

Putting the wheels in motion for training programs and helping to get local businesses established are essential. Communities must be in a position to strike when the iron finally gets hot.

LKFN Chief Rita Cli made a strong statement when she said the people will decide what actions should be taken.

She also said communities will decide on their own development projects.

Without forsaking the aims of the Deh Cho Process, there is room for First Nations to build a workforce, business partnerships and the infrastructure needed to be prepared for future development.

A brief item in last week's News/North referred incorrectly to the sex of a Taloyoak woman charged with fraud.

Incorrect information appeared under two photographs in the Feb 18. edition of News/North. The photo on page A4 is of community wellness co-ordinator Jean Kigutikakjuk from Arctic Bay.

The photo on page A21 is of Jack Anawak and his adopted mother, not his birth mother.

Also the grand opening for the new Heritage Centre, Kiilinik high school and public library will take place in late May or early June when the governor general can attend. It will not take place April 19, as reported in last week's Cambridge Bay Tea Talk.

The Kitikmeot Heritage Society, the hamlet of Cambridge Bay, Kiilinik high school and the Ikaluktutiak District Education Authority are planning the event.

News/North regrets the errors and any inconvenience they may have caused.