Editorial page

Wednesday, September 8, 2004
Go back
  Search

Everyone's problem

To say drugs and crime are "downtown" problems is to ignore reality. They are city-wide concerns facing everyone who lives here and cares about having a safe place to live.

Crime happens downtown. Drug dealers hang out there. People drink in the alleys and sleep on street corners. It's almost like the wild west, where there's an absence of authority.

And yes, some people are afraid to go downtown alone.

That's a big concern to merchants.

But crime happens in Frame Lake South, too. And along Old Airport Road and around Range Lake.

From Aug. 23-Sept. 5, 12 of 20 break-ins were outside of downtown. Four of six thefts from vehicles occurred in the Frame Lake area. Four of five shoplifting reports came from outside downtown.

Violence is also a growing problem. During the same time, police received 41 complaints of assault, including seven in which a knife and rocks were used as weapons.

Police and the public know that many of these kinds of crimes are connected to the city's growing crack-cocaine problem.

"The result of this drug problem is the break-ins and the home invasions," said one caller to Yellowknifer's telephone poll. "It's going to get worse."

The easy thing to do would be to shrug and turn away from what's happening. By retreating to our supposedly safe homes in the suburbs, we're surrendering our town to drug pushers who prey on the addicted.

One person who called Yellowknifer suggested people get out on the streets. It's a good idea. Show the drug dealers you're not afraid and let them know they're not welcome.

Join the Community Wellness Coalition by calling the RCMP detachment.

Police, too, can do more.

They're downtown a lot and are frequent visitors to 50th Street, mainly when there's trouble. There was talk of having a community police station in the old Wolverine Sports location.

That kind of police presence downtown would send a strong message.

Failing that, park a cop car and a constable on 50th Avenue for several nights. Don't drive around, just sit there, watching. That will ensure everyone's on their best behaviour. During summer, beef up foot patrols so there are officers on the beat every night.

Big police operations like Guinness, Getaway and Hydra make headlines, but they don't have a long-term impact.

What's needed is a sustained, every day effort that makes it difficult for the dealers to ply their illegal trade.

More than anything, it will restore people's confidence that downtown isn't the crime haven it's often made out to be.

But don't be naive to think a cop on every corner will solve the problem. Homelessness, poverty, addiction, mental illness: these all play a role and must be addressed to fully deal with Yellowknife's crime and drug problem.


The Northern difference

Editorial Comment
Lisa Scott
Kivalliq News


I've been at the helm of the Kivalliq News for two weeks now. Travelling east from Yellowknife marks my first visit to Nunavut, and the first time I've glimpsed Hudson's Bay.

I've spent much of that time getting to know people and organizations in Rankin Inlet, as well as the other six communities in the region.

Of course, learning a new set of acronyms for those people's titles and for government departments different from the NWT has been a whole other challenge.

The culture here is unlike anything I've ever seen, even on travels around the world. I had thought that coming to Yellowknife from southern B.C. a year ago would open my eyes to how Northern Canadians live.

After coming to Nunavut, I realize how distinct each territory is, and how much more I can learn.

The theme of education

I've covered four high school graduation ceremonies in the region so far, making education a bit of a theme for each week's newspaper.

The ceremonies are symbolic of the Nunavut culture, exposing the people's values on education, family and community. At the Alaittuq high school grad, emotions ran high among the students and their friends and family.

There was a sense of real accomplishment in the air, echoed by speeches from MLA Tagak Curley and principal Jesse Payne. Valedictorian Special Kusugak's speech was laden with tears, for herself and for her peers.

My southern Ontario graduation from high school shared none of that emotion. In fact, many of my friends weren't able to travel back from their respective universities for the fall event.

Students like Marjorie Kaviq Kaluraq of Jonah Amitnaaq school in Baker Lake travelled all the way from her studies at Trent University in Ontario just for her graduation celebration Aug. 28.

Positive interaction

The small class sizes and schools obviously allow for positive interaction of students with teachers, with each other and with the community. There isn't the anonymity rampant in graduating classes numbering hundreds of students in bigger centres -- where the official grad photo looks like a bunch of ants wearing hats.

Congratulations to all the grads with their Grade 12 diplomas safely tucked away.

May you embrace the myriad of post-secondary study options available across Canada.


When a plan comes together

Editorial Comment
Jason Unrau
Inuvik Drum


It seemed such a long time ago that the End of the Road Music Festival moved from the concept phase to becoming a reality that when entering the recreation hall Friday evening for the opening of the first annual event, I thought for a moment that this sort of thing had been going on for years.

While the staging of the annual petroleum show and arts festival has laid the template for similar events, a music festival is an entirely different beast.

Unlike a trade show or visual arts festival, where an installation or information booth remains relatively accessible for the duration of the event, a music festival is a scheduling challenge.

Similar to making music, arranging a three-day concert is an exercise in timing and skilled delivery not only for the benefit of the fans, but also for the performers. Musicians can be a particular bunch and keeping them pleased is an integral part, especially for a first-time festival attempt, as performers are sure to return home with news -- good or bad -- about their last gig.

Anyone who has had the opportunity to play music on the road or hang out with a band that has will no doubt possess a cache of horror stories that seem funny with the passing of time, but can kill a first-time festival when word gets out amongst musician circles.

As a "performer" in the festival, I was treated like a king, and judging from various comments from out-of-town players, this sentiment appeared unanimous. Not only did events stick, for the most part, to the planned schedule, the food in the performers lounge was superb and, even more importantly, the sound on stage and in the hall was impeccable.

Kudos must go to the sound guys from Whitehorse who did a bang-up job. With the variety of performances providing constant sound challenges, these guys showed the patience of Job in creating the best possible sound for everyone.

"Those (sound) guys were our lifeline," commented one musician after exiting the stage.

Days before the festival, those same sound techs donated that lifeline, tweaking the mixing board for the band playing at the Mad Trapper. What a nice thing to do! Not to mention the good omen that scene provided of what was to transpire in the coming days.

Hats must also come off for the army of volunteers, who throughout the planning and staging phases, were a dedicated bunch. Without them, none of the weekend's events would have been possible.

Frank Hansen, one of the driving forces behind the festival, not only performed and emceed, but could be seen coiling cable on Sunday during the massive tear-down of equipment.

Showing similar spirit and dedication was festival co-ordinator Kim Bitensky, who was at every meeting, volunteered at every fundraising event, put up with a barrage of personalities and mini-crises that erupt when planning something on this scale and who was spotted pulling a mop across the arena floor on Sunday morning.

And last but not least, a special thanks must go to the fans who came out and supported a worthwhile and entertaining event that has the potential to become the marquis festival of the North.


How many are needed?

Editorial Comment
Derek Neary
Deh Cho Drum


In light of frequent calls for jobs by elected leaders in the Deh Cho, one starts to wonder, how many people out there are really struggling to find work?

In this marvellous age of the Internet, the figures are available at one's fingertips (although numbers don't tell the whole story). The 2002 GNWT regional employment survey, the most recent year for which statistics are available, indicated an unemployment rate of 16.9 per cent in the Deh Cho. That was based on eight per cent unemployment in Fort Simpson and 23.5 per cent of people looking for work in surrounding communities.

There are approximately 3,000 people in the Deh Cho region, not all of whom are employable. Some are too young to work, others are retired, still others simply don't desire to be among the labour force.

Now, here's where the details are lacking: there's no breakdown of who is employed by whom.

Many people, particularly in Fort Simpson, work for the territorial government. A fraction of residents in every Deh Cho community hold paid positions through the band office or its affiliated programs. A few more are employed by Metis Locals and the federal government.

The business sector likely provides proportionally fewer jobs in this economically depressed region than in many other locales. Nevertheless, operations such as Beaver Enterprises, the Northern store, Big River, TJs Grocery, the Nahanni Inn, Enbridge Pipelines, charter airlines, and others play a very important role.

There are some seasonal positions. For instance, members of the fire crews and those who work at the Visitor Information Centre in Fort Simpson are only hired for finite periods. The same is true of many Beaver Enterprises employees. Unfortunately, it's looking like it may be a lean winter for Beaver, and there will likely be fewer jobs than usual available in Fort Liard.

Other than specific circumstances, such as the probable economic downturn in Fort Liard, who is left without a job?

A GNWT labour market survey from 1994, states that limited education was one of the primary reasons for unemployment.

How much has that variable improved since then? Educational opportunities are there to be had in the larger Deh Cho communities. Perhaps it may seem daunting, but those who wish to upgrade their education can do so through high school or general education development, or GED. Aurora college offers a variety of programs and gets plenty of applicants in Fort Providence, decent enrolment in Fort Simpson and is still striving to attract students in Fort Liard.

But before education comes motivation. It's not unusual to hear employers bemoan the fact that some workers aren't reliable. An employee shows up chronically late for work or doesn't even surface after a day or a week or a pay cheque. This bracket accounts for a portion of the 16.9 per cent of unemployed people in the Deh Cho.

What can be done for them? Strike that. The real questions are, what can they do for themselves and when will they do it?


Correction

The marathon held in Yellowknife, Aug. 30, was called the Overlander Sports Marathon. Yellowknifer apologizes for the error.