The whole theory of government-owned land is to have a resource that can be parcelled out to community-minded interests -- and away from those whose only interests lie in personal profit. Let for-profit companies buy land from for-profit landowners.
The empty lot between the Tree of Peace building and the Diavik building in Yellowknife's downtown is owned by the territorial government. That means we all own it.
"Our" land should be sold when it can do the greatest good for the general community.
Selling it to Tree of Peace so it can expand its educational, social and cultural services fits that bill.
But let's not let the leash off the dog here. Tree of Peace can't assume it has a 100 per cent right to the land without doing its homework.
City councillors are correct to insist Tree of Peace stick to one set of plans for the expansion. Which is it to be, for example: two, four or 10 stories for the expansion?
Tree of Peace spokesman Tom Eagle talks of "politicking" from the city and territorial government. Not guaranteeing a plan -- or even providing one, as required -- is politicking, too, Tom Eagle.
We think Tree of Peace should get to buy the land. But Tree of Peace must be worthy of that land.
Close your eyes and imagine the sounds of an open-air community market: laughing children, musicians jamming, vendors and buyers haggling.
It's a wonderful cacophony of commerce unlike the hustle and bustle of department stores or malls.
Yellowknife Chamber of Commerce is working with city council to establish a weekly outdoor public market that will bring artisans, bakers, crafts-people and others together in the parking lot of City Hall.
It's not about competing with established businesses. It's about giving creative Yellowknifers who have nowhere else to go a place to sell their wares. It could even create a demand for a new community garden where people can grow produce for sale to others who don't have a green thumb.
More than anything, a public market is a gathering place where people can enjoy sunshine, fresh air and buy a home-baked loaf of bread or knick-knack, enjoy some music, a cup of coffee or an inexpensive lunch.
The chamber and city must be applauded for working to pull it together. Hopefully with a solid foundation, vendors can take over management of the market.
They're the ones who will benefit from the sales and they must be the ones to keep it alive.
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
Well, the 2004 Arctic Winter Games (AWG) are now history, but what an event it was.
The 2004 AWG saw a total of 2,025 athletes and coaches from 10 teams compete in 10 sports.
While the athletes are the stars of the AWG -- and rightly so -- the volunteers are, definitely, the unsung heroes.
The logistics of such a gathering are staggering enough.
But consider, if you will, the pairs of hands required to pull such an event off successfully.
From officials to drivers, receptionists, motor pool dispatchers, cooks, cleaners and dish washers -- the list goes on and on and each and every one did an outstanding job.
That's some grub
During the seven days of events at Wood Buffalo, Alta., a staggering amount of food, by Northern standards, was consumed.
Athletes, coaches, officials and mission staff combined to devour 18,000 litres of milk, 23,000 litres of pop and juice, 31,500 eggs, 16,800 kg of meat, 20,000 kg of cereal, 10,000 kg of potatoes and 6,000 kg of vegetables.
And that's not even counting items like Pizza Pops, pasta and the ever-present sauces, dressings and condiments.
The time and effort put in by those people who cooked, prepared, served and cleaned up afterwards demands a well deserved round of applause.
Trophy deserved
I was fortunate enough this year to be selected as a hockey official for the 2004 AWG and it was an experience I will remember for the rest of my life.
Although the demand placed on the hockey refs kept us all pretty busy, I was able to see many familiar faces from Nunavut throughout the week.
And, as the Games progressed, those faces made me increasingly proud to be from Nunavut.
With the exception of, maybe, one hockey game, our athletes displayed an extremely high level of sportsmanship and were an absolute joy to be around.
Nunavut's athletes and coaches were friendly to everyone they met and were the darlings of the region for most of the week.
It really was quite impressive to see a small army of good-will ambassadors improving Nunavut's image everywhere they went.
Being from Rankin Inlet or not, I can look any person in the eye and say in all honesty that the 2004 Hodgson Trophy went to the right recipients.
The Nunavut flag has rarely waved brighter or more proudly than it did over the Wood Buffalo Region this month.
All Nunavummiut should be proud of the example set by our participants.
Editorial Comment
Jason Unrau
Inuvik Drum
With all of the talk about reducing the number of bingos, limiting their jackpots and such, a common concern kept popping up during a recent Lottery Committee meeting: underground gambling.
Many who are against decreasing the number of bingo licenses the town gives out each year (300 to be exact) say that if legal forms of gambling are not available, people will seek out alternatives.
First off, legal gambling is just another way to describe any form of wagering in which the government takes a nice healthy slice.
In Inuvik's case, the town is the government body: six per cent of all prize money on top of a 30 or 50 per cent surcharge on the license itself.
If that weren't enough, the town also puts on its own regular Monday night games. It reminds me a little of the last town I was in where the mayor owned the liquor store. But that's a tale for another day.
It's no secret that high-stakes "underground" gambling in the NWT exists and Inuvik's six-day-a-week TV bingo probably goes a long way to mitigating this shady action.
Charitable and volunteer organizations say that if the number of bingos are reduced, then the programs they support will suffer and the money their bingos do bring in will line the pockets of those who run underground gambling rackets.
Though bingo proceeds are not the community's lifeblood, it would not be a great leap to say that it is a sustainable "industry" of sorts.
People will always find the money to play and organizations looking to raise money either on a one-off basis, or regularly, will always have a guaranteed source to tap.
Raise the stakes
So instead of reducing the "legal" gambling options in town, why not increase them and raise the stakes a little while we're at it.
If Inuvik wants a really sustainable industry -- even more sustainable than the business of harvesting gas from the depths of the earth -- why not build ourselves a first-class casino.
Yes indeed. Erect a shrine to gambling right here in Inuvik, complete with glass-domed roof so the high-rollers that charter in from Fat Cities around the world can really take advantage of what we have to offer.
Patrons can enjoy the Northern Lights in the winter while never having to leave the blackjack table; all the while emptying their wallets.
In the summer, they will become delirious with joy at losing thousands of dollars while basking in our 24-hour sunlight.
And not only would such a facility provide jobs, but Inuvik's coffers would fill up in no time.
Think of the future where no program would go unfunded and no wish would go denied all because of our sparkling casino, churning out the satisfied customers who can brag that they lost their shirts at the Top of the World Casino.
Now what was all this fuss about underground gambling again?
Editorial Comment
Derek Neary
Deh Cho Drum
The Deh Cho First Nations are playing hardball with Imperial Oil.
The monolithic oil and gas giant has been attempting to complete preliminary geo-technical work in this region for the past two winters. It hasn't happened.
Will the terms be even sweeter next winter? The Deh Cho is willing to wait and see.
And this is only the beginning. Some observers insist that the Deh Cho is making a mistake by dragging its feet, that the region alone cannot manipulate a project as enormous as a Mackenzie Valley pipeline to its own advantage. Only time will tell.
The federal government's negotiating position remains in question with an election pending. As well, the natural gas industry pressures the markets. As do court rulings. In the end, all of these outside forces may ultimately prove irrelevant. The Deh Cho, with its all or nothing approach, stands to win big or lose big.
Everyone knows how hard it is to lose a loved one. You can't go through life without experiencing it. How you deal with it is the key. Grieving is a natural process, but one without exact parameters. Some people take longer than others and need time for themselves. Others feel more comfortable quickly returning to the confines of things familiar, such as the workplace.
Irene McLeod, who lost her daughter and attended the Fort Liard workshop, offers some poignant advice. When grieving, it's best to share your feelings rather than keeping them bottled up inside.
Just as important -- as difficult as it is to swallow one's pride -- she recommends trying to be on the best possible terms with others.
Don't be ashamed to express love and gratitude. If a friend or loved one isn't around tomorrow, at least he or she will know how you felt. Sometimes death isn't preventable, but anger, hostility and grudges are entirely within our control.
Celebration time
Carnival season in the Deh Cho kicked off this week with the Beavertail Jamboree -- the coolest celebration in the region, as it has been dubbed.
Here's a tip of the cap to the organizing committee and all the volunteers who make it happen.
It's rather remarkable that Fort Simpson, a community of 1,250 residents, can sustain a week-long spring festival when Yellowknife, a city of 17,000, hasn't been able to do the same thing with much success. We're fortunate to have a number of dedicated people who freely contribute their time.
Thank you all.