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When it comes to the number of people who can speak their traditional language, the Tlicho are far above other aboriginal groups in the NWT.

Now, the Tlicho Government is taking steps to keep it that way and to strengthen the language even more; recognizing that despite its relative strength, it too has experienced a decline over the past decade.

Late last month, the Tlicho Government announced plans to introduce a Tlicho immersion program for kindergarten students with hopes to gradually begin similar instruction at the elementary level.

The idea was met with some resistance from parents who feared there would no longer be the option to enrol their children in English kindergarten, or wondered whether learning resources are adequate to provide quality instruction.

John B. Zoe, a former executive director and one-time senior adviser to the Tlicho Government, said instruction in the Tlicho language is not new and plenty of written resources exist, especially early-literacy material.

Children's books such as The Old Man with the Otter Medicine and The Legend of the Caribou Boy, published by Theytus Books and written by the late George Blondin are among the volumes that Zoe describes as "Dick and Jane" type readers.

The Legend of the Caribou Boy also includes a four-page orthography and pronunciation guide for Tlicho words.

Zoe acknowledged more advanced material will have to be developed as the immersion program evolves, but added nothing happens overnight.

Language is a major component of culture and self-identity and the Tlicho will only benefit from strengthening their mother tongue. As long as the option to choose language of instruction exists and more advanced resource material is developed to ensure quality instruction across academic subjects, the immersion idea should be supported. In the end, such a move will only strengthen Tlicho students' engagement in education and help develop future leaders with a solid connection to their culture and people.

Besides, at the end of the day, nobody has ever complained about knowing too many languages.

Health Minister Tom Beaulieu recently told News/North he is open to the possibility of signing bonuses to help attract nurses to the NWT.

Although that doesn't guarantee bonus packages will be included in the next collective agreement, it's a 180-degree shift in thinking for the Department of Health, which eliminated bonuses nearly a decade ago.

Since then, a territorial-based nursing program has been used to help fill the nursing gap. Ten years later the territory still struggles to fill nursing vacancies and reasons, in part, are the high demand for nurses, the fact other jurisdictions pay retention bonuses, and many health professionals are reluctant to commit full time to some of the territory's more remote nursing stations.

Ten years ago the health minister of the day called bonuses inequitable and inefficient. We expect Beaulieu is fully aware that the communities are inequitable in nature when comparing working conditions to other jurisdictions in Canada or even Yellowknife.

Though there are nurses similar to Aklavik's Rachel Munday, who love the opportunities that exist in her field while working in remote Northern communities, many will need a sweeter pot before committing to a place that has substantially fewer amenities than they might be accustomed to.

We encourage Beaulieu to work with the necessary departments to bring back bonuses for NWT nurses. In the long run, it might actually save the NWT money as less will be spent on travel and housing for casual nurses. If the bonuses are also attached to a time commitment of one or two years, the GNWT will also save the dollars associated with frequent turnover.

Giving credit where credit is due, one of Nunavut's most promising homegrown industries has received a substantial boost from the federal government.

An announcement earlier this month that the Canadian Northern Economic Development Agency would invest $424,744 over two years in Niqitaq Fisheries Ltd. - allowing the Inuit-owned business to buy out a 49-per-cent interest held by a minority shareholder in St. John's - is helping build momentum in an industry that's just starting to get on its feet.

As a whole, CanNor states Nunavut's fisheries contribute $12 million to $14 million to the territorial economy each year and provide more than 300 seasonal jobs. Last year, Nunavut's most lucrative catch - turbot - was harvested to a total worth of between $60 and $65 million. To illustrate how much of that goes to the Nunavummiut working boats, the Department of Environment pegged the money taken home last year by Pangnirtung fishers alone was a total of $700,000.

Niqitaq, a Baffin Fisheries Coalition subsidiary, is made up of five Baffin Island hunters and trappers' organizations and three private organizations, including Pangnirtung Fisheries Ltd. It currently owns one fishing vessel, but with this federal money it will fully own one more, out of the fleet of three it operates to fish for turbot and shrimp.

The company is now fully Inuit-owned, participating in an industry that could one day be fully Inuit-driven. The turbot quota is still not fully met each year, but it's gradually getting closer. There are still battles to be fought in getting an even higher share of the island's offshore shrimp and turbot quotas, and in putting harbours in more communities, but those battles will be made easier as the industry grows more formidable.

Hopefully this investment is a sign of things to come from CanNor.

Looking at the price tag of property damage caused by fire in 2011 - much of it intentionally set - it's hard not to cringe.

Ask many Nunavummiut about the main struggles the territory is facing, and, among others, housing and infrastructure will emerge as big issues. It's difficult and expensive getting supplies here to build, and much of the existing housing is old and inadequate. It's all we have, and some people are taking a torch to it.

More than half of the $53.6 million in total losses were either human-started or relating to vehicle accidents, and the top causes of fire was misuse of fire-starting devices. Youth were largely the culprits.

Education is the key to putting a halt to this. The consequences of not learning how destructive fire can be will be millions more dollars lost, and possibly lives as well.

Lemonade stands are a staple of juvenile entrepreneurship in the summer months, instilling a sense of hard work, organization and business sense.

But for youth living at the Inukshuk Housing Co-operative, lemonade stands are no longer allowed.

Earlier this month, eight-year-old Taylor Sorenson received unwelcome news through a co-op newsletter to all residents expressing that "there is to be no lemonade stands."

Sorenson was selling the thirst-quenching drink to passersby in the neighbourhood, raking in at least $60 a day while saving for a toy she desired.

The reasons behind the sweeping decree that shut her down include a mess of Styrofoam cups allegedly left behind and a perception of a possible safety hazard when children are left unattended. The cluster of residences in question is situated at the corner of Range Lake Road and Williams Avenue, with clearly-marked, one-way traffic signs directing traffic through the small neighbourhood at 15 km/h.

There are also multiple signs indicating children are playing in the area, as one would expect children to do.

Therefore drivers must proceed with extreme caution.

Although it's important to keep a child's well-being as the primary concern, going so far as to call social services or the RCMP if a child is left unsupervised while playing - the co-op's newsletter encourages alerting the authorities - is overbearing and an unnecessary drain on resources.

Banning lemonade stands is not a way to ensure the safety of the children, but an overblown reaction to some litter.

Instead of putting the lid on lemonade through a letter, the co-op should have gone straight to the source, the parent of the child and communicated its concerns over the stand. The co-op could have taken it one step further and given a "three strikes, you're out" warning notice to those selling lemonade, stating acceptable terms and conditions.

Instead, youth are getting a glimpse of how grown-up politics can be unfair with blanket policies that stifle young entrepreneurship.

If dog owners want an attractive off-leash dog park free of SUVs and other hazards they're going to have to make it happen themselves.

That's the reality facing dog owners right now. Yellowknife does have one off-leash dog park maintained by the city but it's far from satisfactory. Tucked behind the Yellowknife Curling Club it is out of view and has a tired, dingy feel even though it opened only eight years ago.

More important than the woeful look, the town's vet has warned people their pets are at higher risk from contracting communicable illnesses at the park, at least seasonally. City staff periodically drop by to remove dog feces but not much other effort is put into the small area's upkeep.

The other off-leash areas in the city meanwhile, Tin Can Hill, Fiddler's Lagoon Road and the Sand Pits, support recreational uses such as dirt-biking and snowmobiling, which can conflict with loose dogs.

Dog owners in this city - there are 1,355 who are licenced - present a significant body of strength in political power and basis of support for fundraising efforts. In many communities across Canada interested dog owners have formed community groups with a goal of providing facilities and parks to walk their pets.

NWT SPCA president Nicole Spencer proposes an off-leash area near where the SPCA is building an animal shelter on Deh Cho Boulevard.

With a little bit of fundraising and volunteer efforts - maybe even some hired help from time to time- the park can be beautified, maintained and kept free of litter.

Maintaining the status quo promises only continued conflicts between dog owners and other residents out to have fun of their own.

Aboriginal Day has come and gone from the Deh Cho for another year.

In communities across the region, the holiday was recognized in a variety of ways that celebrated what it means to be aboriginal, while drawing on traditional practices. In Fort Simpson, the more traditional events included a fire feeding ceremony, a canoe race, a moosehair tufting workshop and a drum dance.

In Fort Providence, traditional events were scheduled to include competitions such as dry fish making, handgames, demonstrations of traditional arts and a drum dance. Similar events took place in other Deh Cho communities as well.

For those who participated in the activities, Aboriginal Day clearly becomes a way to celebrate their cultural heritage, have fun and enjoy spending time with friends, family and community members. For non-aboriginal Deh Cho residents, June 21 is a way to show appreciation for the culture they are surrounded by and to learn more about it.

Aboriginal Day for most people is a feel good sort of holiday on one of the longest days of the year. There is nothing wrong with this use of Aboriginal Day, but it could also be used to keep the flip side of the coin in mind.

While celebrating the traditional past and present achievements, June 21 should also be used to strengthen people for what is still to come. Having a national level holiday dedicated to them, of course, does not mean the struggles of aboriginal people are over.

Many of the topics that are bound to be raised at this week's Dehcho First Nations' annual assembly highlight that point.

Through the Dehcho Process and the Dehcho Land Use Plan the Dehcho First Nations and, therefore, the people of the Deh Cho are still struggling to show Canada that they have never relinquished control of the land and should be allowed to manage it and the people who live here.

Housing and education are also popular topics at the assembly. There is still a ways to come to ensure that aboriginal people have access to the same quality of housing and have the same degree of success in education as other citizens of Canada.

Aboriginal Day is a great way to celebrate what it was and is to be aboriginal, but the festivities shouldn't mask the realities and struggles that still exist.

All of the positive energy that is fostered during June 21 should also be channelled towards making sure there is even more reason to celebrate a year from now.

Inuvik students have been set free.

This year, the end of class heralds more than school letting out for summer; it means that neither Sir Alexander Mackenzie School nor Samuel Hearne Secondary School will ever again host students.

Both buildings are scheduled to be torn down this summer to make way for the new super school, which has been named East Three.

Current students seem to have embraced the change, quickly adopting the new "gang sign" for East Three (three fingers on the right hand held forward to form an E and three fingers held straight up with the left hand). They look forward to the colourful lockers, larger gym and other shiny, new things offered by the old school and for the most part don't mourn the loss of their old schools.

Among the older generations, feelings seem more mixed.

Some see the loss of these buildings as a shame, especially when it comes to the elementary school. SAMS is one of the most aesthetically beautiful buildings left in Inuvik. Yes, it is aging and has somewhat fallen into disrepair, but does it really need to be torn down?

There are also many in the Arctic for whom the building signifies residential school and all of the painful memories associated with that program. The school's closing celebrations in Inuvik June 15 and 16 were primarily a celebration of the good times had in the schools, but also had a note of the other memories formed within those walls.

"I think this is where we came to do our final healing," said a woman who travelled from Cambridge Bay, Nunavut, just to attend the closing ceremonies.

SAMS was once split down the middle – and along with it most of the community – between the Anglican side and the Catholic side. Nuns patrolled the halls to ensure no students dare enter the wrong wings, and students of different religions stayed in separate residences. Grollier Hall served as the Roman Catholic student hostel, while Stringer Hall housed Anglican students.

As a residential school student, there were no options beyond being Anglican or Catholic – this was long before the days of acceptance of and respect for traditional beliefs in such Northern institutions.

There is no more need for the building as a schoolhouse. However, the loss of yet another heritage building in the community should be carefully considered – or at least openly discussed – before the final bell rings.

Brock is the NWT's chief electoral officer and the odds are stacked against him considering the lowly 48 per cent turnout recorded in the 2011 territorial election. Yellowknife was particularly complacent in 2011, registering an abysmal 34.2 per cent of voters who exercised their democratic right.

In 2007, 67 per cent of NWT voters marked a ballot. Yellowknifer voters came in at 57 percent, nine percent higher than last election. That's a substantial difference.

Casting back to the 1999 territorial election, Yk voter turnout was 64 per cent and the territorial percentage was 70.

Something has gone astray.

Brock released 25 recommendations in his elections report for the legislative assembly earlier this month.

One of his suggestions was to move voting to Saturday. Would people be more motivated to stop by the polls during a day off? We doubt it. Voting during the week is not a problem for most people. Employers are obligated to give workers three hours to cast their ballot. Advanced polls are always an option as well.

The rest of Brock's suggestions were heavily weighted toward tweaking the efficiency and accountability of the process, none of which holds much promise of boosting voter turnout however important the changes might be.

In the election game, voter turnout in the 65 percent range is respectable, the higher the better. One hundred percent is not within the realm of reasonable expectation. But as critical as elections are to democracy and our way of life, they are like any other event that involves getting people out of their chairs and breaking daily routines. In the weeks before the election, sufficient money and effort has to be spent on advertising - newspaper, radio, television if possible. Twitter and Facebook should by now be essential tools. Poster campaigns and mail-outs work as well.

News organizations thrive on elections and should be fed a continuous flow of information about the importance of voting, who can vote, where to vote, when to vote, etc. Information and promotion are the same thing in an election campaign and there is no such thing as too much. It's all about creating maximum awareness and excitement.

Come 2015, Brock should pretend he is in the public relations business and make full use of all forms of media to raise the voter turnout rates.

In a 2012 report based on a 2010 survey, Statistics Canada defined NWT residents as among the least charitable donors in the country, falling behind all provinces and territories except Nunavut.

While this comparison of national numbers sketches one picture of generosity in the NWT, Yellowknifers have numerous charitable initiatives to be proud of, especially if the giving isn't documented on donors' tax returns.

This spring, 273 students at N.J. Macpherson School raised $17,000 for the Stanton Territorial Hospital Foundation by going door to door. The money is part of the more than $100,000 the foundation has raised to go toward a new $700,000 chemotherapy/IV suite at the hospital.

At Weledeh Catholic School, 40 senior students raised $4,000 through activities such as bake sales and coin drives to go toward new playground equipment.

Meanwhile, teams participating in the Yellowknife Relay for Life earlier this month raised close to $200,000 for the Canadian Cancer Society, and on Saturday Const. Kathy Law and fellow cyclists helped raise close to $28,000 for the Alberta Cancer Foundation by participating in the Ride to Conquer Cancer bike race in Calgary.

While the lowly position NWT holds on a national survey of charitable donations may inspire Yellowknifers, who earn the highest average income in the country, to dig a little deeper this year, residents should feel proud of their gifts and organizing efforts so far in 2012.

The hoopla was on in Iqaluit this past week for Nunavut MP Leona Aglukkaq and the Tory government.

The new Canadian Northern Economic Development Agency headquarters was unveiled in a shiny new $9-million building, and $25 million over 10 years was announced for researching Inuit health problems such as suicide, tuberculosis, oral health and obesity.

With a number of the territory's 'players' out for the photo op, it held the promise of being a glitzy day for the Conservatives in Nunavut.

But stuck in the middle of the proceedings was the giant white elephant known as Nutrition North.

While Aglukkaq was busy with hoopla, Aboriginal Affairs Minister John Duncan was busy on Parliament Hill accusing Nunavummiut who are fed up with the high cost of food and necessities as being full of hooey!

The Tories - despite the uncharacteristic (for Nunavut) public protests in many communities - continue to defend the flawed program, with Duncan claiming the complaints of people who live in Nunavut are "illegitimate."

Illegitimate to whom? Illegitimate to the people paying half a week's salary on two bags of items? Illegitimate to retailers like the Stanton Group that continue to give the program an enthusiastic thumbs-up while laughing all the way to the bank?

As a man in Nunavut was lamenting the fact his babies were going around without diapers because they're simply too expensive for his family to buy, Duncan was crowing over the fact the evidence was in - according to Northern retailers - and the purchase of nutritious foods was up in the territory.

What Duncan would realize, if he actually knew anything about the economic climate of Nunavut, is that the ever-so-slight increase in nutritious foods being purchased is courtesy of the territory's affluent, who can afford fresh vegetables and diapers for their children. And therein rests the flaw with this program.

The feds want the focus to remain solely on the price of a select few food items, but it's about far more than that. Nutrition North was devised with logic that can only come from the privileged: those far removed from having to provide for a family on a blue-collar wage or less.

Their cupboards are full and their freezers stocked, so they can afford to focus on what they deem to be proper foods while ignoring the fact families need more than fresh lettuce and tomatoes to survive.

In the south, they run TV commercials on poor souls who have to choose between food and power.

But in Nunavut, having to choose between feeding your kids, or buying diapers for your children, feminine supplies for your daughters, proper toiletries for your washroom or basic supplies to keep your home in a clean-and-healthy state is an illegitimate concern.

Nutrition North would be a wonderful program for an isolated territory full of rich people who only have to worry about preparing fresh, uber-nutritious meals.

But in Nunavut, where families need the same basics as the rest of the country, it is far too restrictive and narrow of focus to make a difference in our quality of life.

And that's no bag of illegitimate hooey.

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