Derek Neary
Northern News Services

Fort Simpson (Nov 19/04) - Chiefs in many of the Deh Cho's small communities generally earn less than their counterparts in larger centres and substantially less than other professionals.

No one earns less than Ka'a'gee Tu Chief Lloyd Chicot, who actually commands no salary for performing his duties. Instead, he said, his income is derived from his job as community works coordinator.

"I started out just to work for the people," said Chicot, who has been Kakisa's chief for 11 years. "The elders appointed me to do the work, that's enough for me."

Eric Betsaka, named Nahanni Butte chief in October, accepted a drop in pay when he left his job as maintenance supervisor for Parks Canada.

A husband and father of three young children, Betsaka acknowledges that he and his wife Barb had to seriously consider whether they could afford the transition. Ultimately, for the sake of trying to improve community wellness, Betsaka said he allowed his name to stand in the election.

"Things weren't getting better. Somebody should take the initiative to make sure the decisions were made in favour of the membership," he said, adding that, when it comes to the idea of some form of parity with his elected peers, "we all deal with the same issues."

In Jean Marie River, Chief Fred Norwegian endured a deep pay cut to move from band manager to chief two years ago. Norwegian had trouble explaining why the pay scale is structured the way it is, other than to say it's always been like that and it wasn't established under a good governance model.

Norwegian has 28 years of management experience, much of it with the territorial government.

Bureaucrats, he noted, undergo yearly evaluations and their performance can merit at least modest increases in pay.

He also has a university education, though he is one year short of a degree. Despite his education and experience, he now earns $36,000 a year in base salary, lives in a rented mobile home and pays utilities.

He and his wife, Mavis, have four grown daughters, whom he couldn't have supported on his current income, he admits.

He keeps regular office hours, takes work-related phone calls at home and describes his job as "very demanding."

Yet he hasn't requested a raise because "I see how little money the community gets."

No base salary

Chicot noted that Deh Cho leaders tabled a proposal for a minimum $40,000 salary for chiefs at a DFN assembly a few years ago but it has not been ratified.

Alison de Pelham, the DFN's executive director, explained that core funding for First Nations, provided by the Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development, earmarks nothing specifically for a chief's salary.

The DFN's funding is not "free floating," so it has nothing designated to supplement leaders' incomes, either, she said.

However, when tending to Dehcho First Nations' business, chiefs, elders and delegates are entitled to a $300 per diem.

Grand Chief Herb Norwegian added that the only current avenue to provide more funding for chiefs is through a comprehensive claims model, which has been rejected because it involves extinguishing aboriginal title to the land.

Regardless, leaders like Fred Norwegian stick with it -- he's planning to run again next year -- because, as he said, these are exciting times. A Mackenzie Valley pipeline is moving closer to reality and self-government negotiations have been progressing, albeit slowly.

"I want to continue to be part of that for the next three years and become a better chief," he said.