Monday, February 21, 2005
The federal Tlicho Land Claims and Self-Government Act received Royal Assent in Ottawa, Feb. 15. The final piece of legislation, the Tlicho Community Services Act, could receive third and final reading in the NWT Legislative Assembly this week.
Some could say this landmark agreement represents a rebirth of the Dogrib nation. We disagree. They have always been a strong nation, distinct and proud. This agreement represents a renewal, a return of control over traditional territory that was usurped by the federal government.
With the agreement comes $152 million over 14 years, share of resource royalties, ownership of 39,000 square kilometres of land and other rights on traditional territory known as Monfwi Gogha De Niitlee.
All that is needed now is a federal order-in-council to set a date when the agreement comes into force, possibly in August.
When that day comes, it will be one when all Dogrib, all NWT residents should celebrate because it's one more step in Northerners taking back control of the North.
The old Roman Catholic Church in Tsiigehtchic is a piece of Northern history that will soon be gone if something isn't done to save it.
The church has stood for 85 years, high atop a hill overlooking the Mackenzie and Arctic Red Rivers, a beacon to travellers and residents alike.
The oldest structure in the community, it is the place where residents have worshipped, married, buried and congregated for decades. It's also an important tourist attraction.
The NWT is only just starting to preserve its heritage sites. There are only two so far - the whalers' grave in Balaena Bay east of Tuk and the old Anglican Church in Tulita - and no money has been set aside to assist with repairs and preservation.
Time is running out on the Tsiigehtchic church. Windows are cracked, the roof leaks and structural problems are only going to get worse.
Residents are doing their part by starting the process to have the church declared a historic site. Donations from the community and private parties will come in, but those resources are fairly limited compared to the cost of such an undertaking.
The GNWT, with its recently announced budget surplus, needs to consider setting aside some money to help preserve heritage sites like the Tsiigehtchic church.
And the government needs to move quickly. Too much of our history has already been lost to the ravages of time.
Iglulik, like every community in Nunavut, struggles with its various problems. But when it comes to language and culture, Iglulik is a shining light in the territory.
Here are just two examples of why Iglulik can be considered a bright light: Isuma Productions - their various films, and history books. And the Amittuq Dancers.
Isuma isn't content just making movies like Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner, and picking up Genie awards. Isuma used the success of their films to inspire and launch a series of educational materials including the Isuma Teacher's Resource Guide and the Isuma Inuit Studies Reader that delve into various aspects of Inuit culture and history with fine writing, drawings and old photographs.
Any young Inuk who reads these materials would feel proud to be Inuk and would have to think twice before doing harm to themselves or others.
There is so much to be proud of in Inuit culture, and Isuma is doing it's part to make sure no one forgets that.
But the 60 or so people who work for Isuma in Iglulik are certainly not rich. Isuma needs more support for what they do from all levels of government, perhaps for more trips around Nunavut giving workshops on filmmaking so that more Inuit can get into filmmaking and preserving Inuit culture.
The other bright light is the Amittuq Dancers of Iglulik. The group hasn't performed much publicly, but when they do, they bring the past up through the floor boards with their stomping feet, swirling moves and shouts.
Amittuq performed during the commissioner's awards in Iglulik on Feb. 7. The crowd felt the past working its way passionately into the future with those young people and their interpretation of real Inuit dancing.
The young dancers were not drum dancing, or wearing caribou skins or the kinds of costumes people in the south may think of as "Inuit."
It was their spirit and energy that made their moves truly Inuit and flashes from the past before television numbed us all.
The Amittuq Dancers want to go to Ottawa to perform for Canada Day this year. They also want to give dance workshops in places like Iqaluit where Inuit culture is really under threat from the influx of southerners.
They are fundraising right now. The Government of Nunavut should support this group and ensure their efforts are carried on not just in Iglulik but elsewhere.
Strong language and culture doesn't erase problems like poverty, suicide, a lack of good paying jobs and domestic discord. But clearly knowing who you are and where you come from can help you weather the storms of life.
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
You will have to forgive my rather slanted sense of humour, but tears of laughter were streaming down my face earlier this month as I listened to a bevy of media types trying to get a discernible answer out of the communications folks at Transport Canada concerning the department's suspension of Skyward Aviation Ltd.'s air-operator certificate in Manitoba.
Transport Canada's concerns, apparently, were based on Skyward's ability (read: inability) to exercise operational control.
Now there's a far-reaching spectrum for you.
Operational control can range from the keeping of proper records all the way up to training and, gasp, aircraft maintenance.
Of course, Transport Canada wasn't about to risk legal action from a private company by revealing just what its concerns were at the time.
Excuse them if people who are willing to pay good money to go hurling through the air in a metal cylinder would like to know if their crew is properly trained, or if a mechanic has inspected the plane during the past year.
I've had my suspicions for the past five years that the Nunavut government is actually modelling itself after Transport Canada when it comes to the issuing of information.
The formula is pretty effective if you don't want John Q. Public to know what's going on.
When the questions first start coming, you simply talk for an hour without really saying anything.
You also have a plethora of old standbys to fall back on - can't talk about it while the matter's before the courts, still under investigation, still looking into it, falls under the Privacy Act, a private company is involved, etc., etc.
Then you simply wait until enough time elapses for nobody to remember the questions or care about the answers before you send out a brief fax at 5:05 p.m. on a Friday afternoon.
I will give Transport Canada one slight edge over the Nunavut government.
I have always received official answers to my questions from Transport Canada, albeit a year or two later, while I am still waiting for certain GN ministers and deputy ministers to figure out how that fancy new phone on their desk really works.
Yes, it would all be quite funny - except for the fact nobody's laughing.
Whether it be air-operator certificate suspensions, fuel spills, government issued gag orders, suggestions to stay away from municipal councils, unexplained fatalities, questionable real estate deals or a bad case of gas - there is no humour to be found in this type of silence.
However, if you want a real belly laugh or some top-notch entertainment, sit down with your favourite politician, bureaucrat or "media relations" type and get their take on the public's right to know.
I can feel my cheeks getting wet already!
Editorial Comment
Jason Unrau
Inuvik Drum
When Inuvik residents hear the word youth, several images come to mind, some positive and others negative.
Each week, news about various youth activities appear in the pages of the Drum. Focusing on the positive, there's student of the week and stories from the elementary school's literacy lunches as well as coverage of extracurricular sports, in school and in the community.
And every once in a while, there's a negative story about youth. This week it's vandalism at the bank, perpetrated by a group of wandering teens, out way past their bedtimes. Last year about this time, it was the cab drivers who were fed up with youth pelting their cars with snowballs.
We haven't had any stories of youth stealing snowmobiles this winter, but then, there's a lot of winter left.
Unfortunately, it is these images of the town's youth that tend to overshadow all the positive contributions kids make to the community through their scholastic successes, sports accolades and volunteer work.
After witnessing the results of ongoing vandalism at the bank over the past several weeks, on many occasions I was forced to wipe a smirk from my face. Not because I found the vandalism itself particularly amusing but due mostly to my amazement at its relentless nature.
First there was the graffiti and the paint-job to cover it up. Then the smashed drywall that was barely replaced for a day before it was adorned, once again, in profanities. Imagine if these youth channelled their efforts into something productive.
Then keep imagining a Lennon-esque world where there's no wars and all that other sugarplums in fairyland nonsense. Now back to reality.
To the kids responsible their handi-work must have seemed a big joke, but nobody is going to be laughing 10 years down the line when the same youths, all grown up, are facing a judge for irresponsible adult behaviour.
Try to explain it in these terms to the perpetrators and one is sure to be the subject of ridicule.
Oh, the youthful exuberance...
Right about here should be the perfunctory paragraph about parental responsibility or lack thereof.
But what is the point of making mention of it again? It would be like preaching to the choir.
Speaking about the situation in terms of restitution to the bank, an Inuvik RCMP corporal said the Crown would most likely ask for it but whether or not the court would order such a thing was another matter altogether.
Not to mention the fact that if restitution was ordered, would the guilty actually comply?
Until somebody comes up with a solution to this problem of wayward youth and their wanton destruction of property, we'd all better keep a can of paint and a good supply of drywall handy.
Editorial Comment
Derek Neary
Deh cho Drum
Without good communication, any relationship will fall apart.
That's not rocket science, but keeping the lines of communication open can be hard work.
The relationship in question today isn't one between two people, it's one between two entities: the Village of Fort Simpson and the Fort Simpson Volunteer Fire Department.
The parties had become estranged, drifting apart over the past few years. They met Monday to keep smouldering embers from sparking into a full-blown inferno.
Fire Chief Pat Rowe warned village council last November that the volunteer brigade's inadequate emergency equipment is at a critical stage. He said it would take a death to get council to act.
In April 2003, the volunteer firefighters showed up en masse at a council meeting to protest village council's idea of privatizing the ambulance service. The department had not been consulted first.
At the Feb. 7 council meeting, there was an agenda item regarding the absence of any billing statements for ambulance calls. Senior administrative officer Bernice Swanson noted that the fire chief had not submitted ambulance service work orders since February 2004. Mayor Raymond Michaud wondered aloud if Rowe was mad at council.
Coun. Norm Prevost said Rowe should be considered village personnel and the issue should therefore be discussed in camera, which it was. Then last Monday's meeting was arranged. It was undoubtedly held behind closed doors - council's decision - because there was potential for fireworks. Fortunately, it seems things went relatively smoothly.
Village council and the fire department both rely on dedicated individuals who, ideally, take on the role because they want to help others.
The fire department comprises men and women who spend countless hours training and responding to fire calls (often false alarms), even at ungodly hours.
Village council consists of elected men and women who earn a modest honorarium. They are bestowed with the trust of bettering the community.
With two groups that mean so well, what could go wrong? Basically they had lost touch. Their few face-to-face meetings were tinged with hostility.
Both sides have taken responsibility for the lengthy lapses in communication. They figuratively took an axe and broke down the door between them on Monday afternoon. Whether the issues they identified will be resolved to everyone's satisfaction remains to be seen - but it was most definitely a necessary meeting.
Mayor Michaud's words a day later inspire hope that things will improve:
"The fire department, we have to realize, are extremely important to the community," he said. "We have to improve the communication gap."
Hear! hear!
This emphasis on communication ought to be adopted by everyone. There are plenty of departments, elected officials, bureaucrats, band members and taxpayers who all fail to talk or sit down and draft a well-thought-out letter.
That would save a everyone involved a lot of grief.