There is the occasional voice that has peeped up demanding we rethink our love of putting parkland first, but really: a courthouse is just a building that could go anywhere.
The trick -- and there isn't a serious one as you'll soon see -- is to find a chunk of real estate for it.
Location, location, location: it's the first rule of business with an eye to setting up shop. So should it be for potential courts of law.
Our first choice is the parking lot beside the Centre Square Mall. That might discourage crime downtown.
How about this: Put the courthouse on the edge of town next to the new jail.
That spot would save time and effort transporting clients staying at Her Majesty's Hotel to their day of judgment.
One idea that seems tailor made for Yellowknife is to house the courthouse in one of our many mine shafts. Surely there are some Giant Mine or Con Mine caverns that, with a couple benches and other furniture, could quickly turn into the kind of hard-rock hall of justice we need.
Irony ... in Yellowknife's case the definition must include the fact there's so much land, yet nowhere for honest folk to build a quaint cabin in the bush.
Sure, you could do it, but you'd be a squatter, encroaching on Commissioner's Land, or Crown Land -- property that really belongs to First Nations. There are an estimated 400 squatters around the NWT, most in the North Slave. The number of squatters shows there's a demand for recreational properties around Yellowknife.
Yet it appears that no new areas will open up until there's a land claim settlement with the North Slave Metis or Yellowknives Dene.
If ever there was a business opportunity for First Nations, it's this: identify some good recreational land, survey it, divide it into lots and offer the land for lease to cabin-owner wannabes. It works in Southern Canada. Just check with the Okanagan Indian Band in B.C. They lease vast stretches of Okanagan Lake shore to hundreds of cabin owners, earning thousands of dollars each year in rent and lease payments.
Even if you just charged existing squatters $100 a month, that would add up to $480,000 a year.
Not all wealth comes from diamonds and gold. This would be a sustainable industry that would bring money in as long as the cabins remained in the bush.
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
Only time will tell if switching student bodies at Maani Ulujuk middle school (MUI) and Alaittuq High (AHS) in Rankin Inlet was the right call.
On the surface, the District Education Authority's (DEA) logic seems solid in putting Grades 7 through 12 at MUI next year and Grade 5 and 6 students at AHS, soon to be known as Simon Alaittuq school.
A growing student body with the potential to outgrow a school's capacity is a serious issue.
Likewise, the DEA's claim MUI has more facilities for senior students also sounds good at first listen.
However, the DEA's worry that every student eligible for high school will show up next year is wishful thinking at its best.
And, from what we understand, many of the tools at the vaunted MUI facilities are either outdated or broken altogether.
As one student put it, the last time he was at MUI's shop, the only tool working properly was a hammer.
Hardly a ringing endorsement.
However, there is a much bigger force that could come into play here, and one the DEA ignored in its failure to properly involve students in its decision-making process.
Ask any teacher how their time went at a school with non-existent student spirit and we can tell you what their response will be.
And having a large group of students attend a school they don't want to be at is an instant recipe for behavioral problems.
As adults, we've all found ourselves, at one time or another, at a place where we didn't want to be.
You don't have to overly exert yourself to remember the mood you were usually in while there.
DEA gets lucky
Yes, the 2004/05 school year could be an ugly one and, yes, it's a situation the DEA could have totally avoided with (a) a bit more forethought and (b) a lot less attitude.
But, in this case, the DEA will get lucky.
It will get lucky because of the collective maturity of Rankin Inlet's senior students.
While there will be unpleasant incidents related to the switch, overall, we're confident our students will adapt and display the positive spirit Rankin youth are known for in making the best of a less than ideal situation.
Here's hoping when they do, DEA members will give them the credit they deserve, and won't be found behind closed doors whispering that they knew it all the time.
This switch will become successful on the strength of the students' ability to look at the big picture -- not the DEA's shortsightedness in ignoring its most valuable asset while in the decision-making process.
Editorial Comment
Jason Unrau
Inuvik Drum
With the mountains of news releases and glossy information packages regarding the Mackenzie Gas Project piling up, perhaps concern for our woodlands could be added to the list of environmental impacts.
As more than a dozen government agencies (federal and territorial), review boards and aboriginal bureaucracies come together to attempt to wade through the hearings, assessments, meetings and office openings it is a wonder things have come this far. Or have they?
According to National Energy Board chairman Kenneth Vollman, without an application from the producers there is no project.
It has been nearly two years since the Co-operation Plan outlining the assessment and regulatory review process for the pipeline was released. Since then, project-related offices have sprung up around town and with or without a pipeline, Inuvik has enjoyed the economic benefits of merely thinking about building it.
And certainly Vollman's comment was not intended to be negative, simply a statement of fact. A rather simple reminder of the mountains of money at play in the arena of world-scale projects that, in the pipeline's case, remain tentative.
Finance Minister Floyd Roland reiterated the importance of the GNWT and the feds to come to some kind of a more equitable revenue sharing agreement and ultimately devolution.
With these key pieces in place, the NWT and, in turn, its residents would have a much easier time of controlling its destiny and not be at the mercy of bureaucrats in Ottawa.
GNWT doesn't see a dime
Roland says as things stand the GNWT doesn't see a dime of resource royalties, while aboriginal governments
with settled land claims get a negligible percentage. So at the end of the day, it is the GNWT that has to go begging in Ottawa each time the current formula financing mechanism didn't quite cut it.
In the meantime, government spending has increased and some of this can be attributed to pipeline "costing," what Roland calls any burden on the coffers related to pipeline activity.
It reminds me of the last time the power corporation wanted to (once again) introduce a flat rate in the NWT. I was living in Fort Smith at the time, a place that enjoyed relatively cheap electricity due to its proximity to the Taltson Hydroelectric Dam. With the introduction of a flat rate, however, the cost of electricity was going to increase almost 30 per cent there.
"Fort Smith shouldered the burden of building the dam so we should reap the benefits, not subsidize other community's power," seemed to be the unanimous sentiment.
The Mackenzie pipeline is a similar scenario for the territory at large. The territory and its residents are going to absorb the lion's share of the project's impact, yet only reap a fraction of the reward with the rest going to right back to Ottawa.
Certainly there will be a bounty of jobs created here if and when the pipeline goes into construction. However, most of these jobs will be limited to the two or three years it takes to build it. Then where will the territory be?
It's time that Ottawa loosened its leash on the NWT and put the power in the hands of its people, rather than smother us under its wing.
Editorial Comment
Derek Neary
Deh Cho Drum
A step-by-step approach to lifting liquor rationing in Fort Simpson seems reasonable.
The effects of easing alcohol purchase limits can be gauged over a year's time. Local and territorial governments can adjust accordingly. The strengthening of social programs, which would be prudent in preparation for a Mackenzie Valley pipeline and subsequent development, could be given a nudge in advance of a boom.
But is the loosening of alcohol purchase limits what the majority wants?
Rationing was imposed in Fort Simpson by a Commissioner's decree more than a quarter century ago. Hardly democratic.
The Liidlii Kue First Nation held a poll on the issue in conjunction with its election last June. The outcome was 183-103 in favour of removing rationing. That's a 64 per cent majority, although the result was non-binding.
The Liidlii Kue First Nation's chief and council chose to overrule the wishes of most voters by requesting that some form of liquor restrictions be retained. It could be argued that their decision flies in the face of democracy.
It can also be argued that the chief and council have a duty to do what they perceive to be in the best interest of their electorate. After all, the chief and band councillor were elected by a majority of voters. That too is democracy at work.
If enough feathers have been ruffled by band council's actions on liquor rationing, then there will be repercussions come the next election.
Dirty beings
There are many ways one can look at the hazardous spills data released through the GNWT's environmental protection service last week.
The numbers can be broken down by size of spills, the type of material spilled, by the party responsible or by location.
What is painfully obvious is that where there is industry, there is an increase in spills. Even though oil and gas activity has slowed in Fort Liard, there were numerous spills in that area.
Hazardous waste also made its way into places it shouldn't have been several times at the CanTung mine site. But there were also spills at Trout Lake's diesel tanks and along the Nahanni Butte winter road. A significant spill occurred in Fort Simpson just this past weekend when an oil tank ruptured.
Wherever humans venture these days with our machines and their tanks, barrels and drums, there's a chance of fuel, oil or antifreeze seeping into the ground or the water.
It's not a reassuring thought, but neither is seeing the snow melt in the spring to reveal oodles of discarded plastic wrappers, bags, styrofoam, cans and bottles. While not as great an immediate threat to the environment, it sure is a repulsive sight.