Home page

Text size

E-mail this page

A 66-year-old man's takedown by municipal enforcement officers, a video of which went viral after being put on Facebook, has tongues wagging around the city and for good reason.

The video illustrates what many people find problematic: the use of force by bylaw officers to make an arrest.

It's not clear from the video who punched who first. The driver, Gary Jaeb, admits he struck the officer, but claims it was in self-defence. The video shows Jaeb struggling with a yet unnamed bylaw officer while still seated in the driver's seat before a second bylaw officer arrives to help his colleague pull the man out of his truck and to the ground.

Hopefully, the bylaw dash-cams and audio lapel clips worn by officers were turned on and recording, unlike during the 2012 Santa Claus parade when a woman with her grandchildren claimed a bylaw officer became physically abusive after she got stuck in traffic. In any event, whether Jaeb is guilty of assaulting an officer or the victim of an assault himself is up to the courts to decide and there is still a long way to go before that day comes.

What should be up for discussion right now is city policy on the arresting powers of its officers. Specifically, should unarmed bylaw officers be physically engaging combative drivers and other members of the public?

The general sentiment thus far suggests people are not comfortable with this, and would prefer physical confrontations be left in the hands of RCMP officers, who undergo extensive training in hand-to-hand combat.

Municipal enforcement is not an easy job, especially when it requires officers to deal with people who are not always happy to receive a ticket.

It's not reasonable to expect bylaw officers to avoid physical confrontations 100 per cent of the time. Still, it would've seemed prudent in Jaeb's case, who was already blocked in his parking stall by the bylaw officer's vehicle when the altercation ensued. He wasn't going anywhere. The bylaw officer could've easily let the RCMP handle the situation, who arrived only a couple minutes later.

It's unclear what sort of combat training city bylaw officers receive, if any, which leaves one to wonder what sort of liabilities the city risks when its officers get into physical confrontations. What if a bylaw officer is injured in a fight or injures a member of the public?

Unfortunately, the city's response to these questions since the Jaeb incident has been utter silence. It is therefore up to city council to hold administration's feet to the fire and get the answers. A departmental review has been in the works for a long time.

The use of physical force is one area that requires special attention if the city aims to restore public confidence in its municipal enforcement division.

Surviving generation guilt
Editorial Comment by Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News - Wednesday, October 1, 2014

I've lived my life determined never to be a racist, or a "victim" of reverse discrimination.

And, for the most part, I feel pretty good about my efforts.

That's saying a lot in a world where people are beheading others on video, and murdering thousands because of the deity or prophet they choose to believe in.

Unless you have no access to a TV, radio, computer, book, magazine or newspaper, you can't get through a day without being told you're different because of the colour of your skin.

That's how it is in the age of generation guilt. Being from a working class family on the East Coast, I scratched my head when I heard the term white privilege, both before and long after I looked into its meaning. I couldn't get my head around exactly how being able to turn on the TV and see white faces staring back helped me in any tangible way.

Some form of subconscious security blanket? Nor could I understand why I should feel guilty because the people I knew weren't in prison balancing the number of white and non-white inmates.

It just wasn't on our list of things to do -- honest! The fact the past four generations of my family haven't "risen above" the working class is immaterial. We're still privileged because nobody chased us out of our neighbourhood. How about when our way of life collapsed with the fishery and we were scattered across Canada, separated from our families and Atlantic culture, and often working for a tad above minimum wage on some assembly line?

Still privileged, because the guy who made us work 48 hours a week in deplorable conditions was the same shade as us. Oh. Well, that's different then. I had already lived half my life (to date) when Peggy McIntosh penned White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack, in 1988.

Since then, in certain circles, I've been beaten over the head with it every time I dare question its validity. To me McIntosh's work has always represented class privilege, and that's a whole different ball game. But it became a harbinger of a long line of manufactured and indefensible cultural definitions for generation guilt, Friedrich Nietzsche and an individual's freedom to shape his own character be damned.

This approach, as defined by white privilege, is to state I believe all non-white peoples of the world think exactly the same way. As ludicrous as that sounds to me, or as offensive as I find it, if I refute thinking that way I'm told I'm in denial or ill-informed (translation: too dumb to understand I really do think that way). Apparently I've been demanding, whether conscious of my efforts or not, to be treated as a member of the socially privileged all my life, and I've had constant access to power and resources.

My worker-bee status of the past 40 years has been just an attempt to mask my guilt over those privileges. And all this time I thought I was earning a living.

Who knew?

As mixed-up of a white person as generation guilt would have me believe I am, since I've survived this far, I'll just carry on trying to be me. Besides, I've had just about all the privilege I can take.

Earlier this month, the Native Women's Association of the NWT raised the alarm on unacceptably long wait times for police to respond to incidents in small communities.

Apparently, under the current system emergency calls are dispatched through Yellowknife, resulting in confusion at the best of times and, at worst, callers or dispatchers hanging up on one another when that confusion turns into frustration.

The result of the lengthy delays in getting an officer to the scene of a crime has resulted in preventable deaths in the territory, said Patricia Modeste, a board member for the association from Deline, during an annual general meeting in Yellowknife on Sept. 5.

Perhaps the most glaring example of the harm this round-about dispatching system has caused is the death of Fort Good Hope resident Charlotte Lafferty, 17, who was beaten to death in front of the community's elders' complex in the early morning hours of March 22. A 17-year-old male, whose identity has been withheld because he is a minor, is charged with first-degree murder in her death.

It has since come to light that residents of the elders' home watched helplessly as Lafferty was killed. Their calls went through to Yellowknife, causing confusion. Eventually, police arrived at 7 a.m., and found her dead.

RCMP spokesperson Sgt. Barry Ledoux raised a few eyebrows with his reaction to the Native Women's Association's complaints, saying to one media source that officers need to do things like wash their face and eat breakfast before heading out on a call.

In his defence, dealing with police response times is more a GNWT matter than it is the RCMP's.

Policing in the NWT is a busy and stressful job, and maintaining some semblance of a work-life balance is needed to prevent burnout. It is up to the territorial government which negotiates the contract for police services in the territory to ensure this balance can be met while also meeting the needs of NWT residents.

In this regard, there clearly is a problem.

An English-speaking Yellowknife dispatcher is simply not good enough.

At the very least, the GNWT should cough up some extra cash to have an auxiliary dispatcher in every community where police officers. Having someone in the community who people can contact, and who can communicate the urgency of a situation to police, will go a long way to prevent an officer from thinking he has time for a snack while a woman is being beaten to death.

That person could be a social worker, or a trusted community member, but there is no reason why a 1111 number cannot be activated in all 33 communities.

Let's not wait for RCMP headquarters in Yellowknife to sort this out. We need reasonable police response times, and we need them now.

It's time to call on the GNWT, particularly Justice Minister David Ramsay, to do their jobs and ensure the safety and security of all residents - not just those in Yellowknife.

A couple of shining victories for municipalities were realized in Nunavut earlier this month when Iqaluit's dump fire was finally extinguished and a ribbon-cutting ceremony was held at Kugluktuk's ulu-shaped heritage centre, which was born of the former mayor's dream.

Aside from the positivity of the achievements themselves, these victories illustrate that Nunavut municipalities can accomplish great things with some vision and directed action.

In the case of what became the infamous dump fire, sometimes called "dumpcano," humming and hawing about who would pay for the effort to put out the flames, and whether or not to even put it out, meant work to extinguish the buried fire didn't start for 100 days.

Both the federal and territorial governments told the city to pay for it itself, which is when the City of Iqaluit slipped into the driver's seat. It budgeted $2.6 million out of its reserves and had the fire out within 17 days. And, as we reported last week, the cost seems to be much less than what was budgeted, with early estimates coming in at $1.13 million and the projected cost to be under $2 million, far less than a July estimate of $4 million.

The city should be commended for taking this on and, despite the delays for consultation with experts, ultimately accomplishing what it set out to do in a short time and evidently under budget.

It just goes to show municipalities are capable, with or without territorial and federal support.

Although Kugluktuk's ulu-shaped heritage centre did receive part of its $2 million in funding from the territory, as well as from Ottawa through CanNor, it began as a vision of the community's former mayor just three years ago.

Then-mayor Ernie Bernhardt came into the office one day with a drawing on "a little piece of paper," and said he would like the community to have a tourist centre for Kugluktuk in the shape of an ulu, senior administrative officer Don LeBlanc said.

Although it takes much more than a vision to make something happen, a vision is the impetus for any great thing.

LeBlanc, who recognized this was indeed a vision to be realized, should be commended for following through on the plan. The building can now serve as a central hub for tourists as well as a unique venue to host group meetings. Already, LeBlanc said, the hamlet has scheduled two group bookings next month.

Both these instances illustrate how Nunavut communities can take the reins, and in doing so, accomplish great things.

When the federal or territorial governments choose not to deal with something, like in the case of the dump fire, it falls onto the shoulders of the municipality. When a municipality gets an idea for a large undertaking, such as the ulu-centre, it's up to the municipality to begin the process.

And in both cases, Nunavut communities have excelled.

City council appears to be running away as fast as it can from any suggestion it shares administration's desire to build a public plaza at the corner of 50 Street and Franklin Avenue after narrowly approving the 50/50 lot purchase for $1.45 million.

"I've been clearing up a misconception all week that we want to buy this place to build a park," said Coun. Bob Brooks at Monday's council meeting.

Council is clearly worried they will get blamed should the city proceed and build a "park for bums" as one social media commentator called it, but it's doubtful they would be upset if residents by and large approved of their purchase.

Shouldering the skepticism of voters, however, is the price council will pay once again for putting out a horse without showing people what's going in the cart. Like its previous $975,000 purchase of three lots on 50 Street in January 2012, council is purchasing the 50/50 lot without a concrete plan - at least not a plan rooted in reality or one to which people can relate.

With the Corner Mart, Instaloans and adjacent parking lot purchase on 50 Street, the city briefly floated an "eco-housing" trial balloon that married climate concerns with affordable housing. That idea has since crashed to the ground as economic realities intruded on the computer-generated fantasy concepts put forward by consultants.

The three 50 Street properties, now without tenants or property taxes to collect, will remain empty until the city can find a buyer for them. The city wants $1.3 million, which Coun. Niels Konge says is unrealistic.

The same problem applies for the 50/50 lot, which current owner Jack Walker has been unable to sell for more than 10 years.

It's hard to revitalize downtown without a revived private sector economy. This puts the city is in a difficult position. Municipal governments are often stuck having to re-develop their downtown core because developers aren't willing to do it when there are no immediate economic benefits in sight.

At Centre Square Mall, next door to the 50/50 lot, the city has to contend with upper mall owner Royal Host, which took two years to follow through on an NWT fire marshal order to build a wheelchair-accessible ramp at its front entrance. The lower mall owner, Huntingdon Development Corp, meanwhile, dealt with a loitering problem by boarding up its 50 Street entrance.

It's obvious the city can't count on revitalization help from them.

The city instead ought to look at the downtown's strengths as the key to rejuvenation. Despite problems with social issues and in the private sector, government institutions remain strongly committed to downtown. One only needs to look to the seven-storey office tower the territorial government is building across the road from the half-empty Centre Square Mall.

Mayor Mark Heyck's idea of building an apartment building with commercial space on the bottom has merit but any concept for revitalization should include measures on how to serve the masses of government workers that flood downtown every day. Boutiques and swanky restaurants won't happen unless the overall economic picture improves.

Unfortunately, nothing has been articulated to date other than the city's desire to purchase more downtown properties.

Residents are having trouble with this because the price of everything they need to live and survive in this city is skyrocketing upward with no relief in sight.

The city, which has been jacking up property taxes and user fees on an almost annual basis, is drawing much of the blame. People are wary of grand schemes because the money for them inevitably comes out of their pockets. The proliferation of grand schemes at city hall dominated the 2012 municipal election because it was clear voters were tired of big projects, such as geothermal energy from Con Mine.

Upon his appointment the following year, senior administrative officer Dennis Kefalas assured residents the city was done pursuing big projects. Purchasing the 50/50 lot with an open-ended schedule and no clear plan does little to dispel people's suspicions it is doing otherwise.

The confusion swirling around the replacement of the Fort Simpson health entre seems to be the result of a lack of communication.

The health centre is an important facility. It is the only location in the village where residents can get health care and it also provides services for people in surrounding communities.

As a result of its importance, it's to be expected that the facility's future would be a topic of interest to many in Fort Simpson. Local governments, including Liidlii Kue First Nation and the Village of Fort Simpson, and possibly many residents as well, have heard that the territorial government is working on plans to replace the centre.

It is after that, however, that everything becomes unclear. It seems no formal presentation has been made to any of the local governments or the community as a whole about how long the current centre has left, how the government will go about replacing it and how a new location will be chosen.

In the absence of hard information, leaders and residents have been left to draw conclusions from the short comments visiting territorial government officials have made as well as a lot of conjecture and rumors.

In its defense, the Department of Health and Social Services says consultation is coming - it just hasn't taken place yet. Dehcho Health and Social Services is supposed to have consultations with community groups and there are supposed to be town hall sessions for the general public on dates which will be announced. The problem is that people have questions now.

For the territorial government, particularly the Department of Health and Social Services, this situation will hopefully serve as a reminder of how important it is to provide information and consult with communities as soon as possible when important infrastructure projects are being contemplated. Even if a lot of details aren't available yet, just explaining the territorial government's capital planning process so people are aware of potential timelines and requirements would be helpful.

The community has already taken the right steps, namely calling on the territorial government to provide information and answers. As Mayor Sean Whelly pointed out, the village just wants to know what the plan is and if it can be of help in any way to ensure this important facility is replaced in a timely manner.

A bit more communication would do a lot to create understanding and provide reassurances.

It's more than good news to hear that a second food bank will be opening in Inuvik in the next few months, but it's bad news that one is necessary.

The new food bank will be operated by volunteers primarily from the Midnight Sun Mosque, where it will be located.

The impressive thing about this food bank is that organizers have plans to offer country foods, something that is all too often in short supply in town.

If you listen to almost any of our elders, they will tell you how they yearn for the chance to go back to eating the foods of their childhood, which are now almost impossible to obtain in many cases, unless you are capable of hunting it yourself.

Abdallah Mohamed, the project manager for the Midnight Sun Mosque food bank, says he's confident he can develop the supply chain needed to provide food including caribou, moose, ptarmigan, prairie chickens and fish.

Various hunters, trappers and harvesters have approached him offering to provide that supply line to serve the community.

He says the only real barrier to someone doing this before was a lack of proper storage and handling facilities, which will be available at the new food bank.

It's truly unfortunate, though, that there is such a pressing need for a second food bank here in Inuvik. It's an unpleasant reality that the economic situation here has deteriorated to such an extent that one food bank can't realistically keep up with the demand.

Inuvik, at the risk of a bad pun, is a feast or famine community. Many people with well-paying jobs can live quite a comfortable lifestyle. Others struggle to pay for the bare necessities such as food and shelter. There's not a lot in between those two extremes.

That means there is going to be increasing pressure on services such as food banks and that's likely not going to change in the immediate future.

So if you can do something to help out such organizations, do so. You can never tell when you yourself might unexpectedly be in need of them.

We welcome your opinions. Click here to e-mail a letter to the editor.