May
27, 2005
Where are the men?
Here's a question that Inuit and government negotiators didn't anticipate,
probably, when they worked out Article 23 of the Nunavut land claims agreement:
Why are so few Inuit men getting good government jobs?
In March of 2004, according to the GN's numbers, there were 1,079 beneficiaries
working at the GN and its various agencies. Of those, 775 were Inuit women,
and only 304 were Inuit men.
For non-Inuit, the ratio was more even: 683 non-Inuit men versus 789 non-Inuit
women.
Recent numbers also show that the education system echoes this gender imbalance.
They show that too few Inuit men, for whatever reason, are getting the scholastic
qualifications that make good jobs easier to get.
High school graduation figures over the past six years show that in Nunavut,
women made up 54 per cent of high school graduates. That's not bad - but in
Nunavut, females make up only 48.5 per cent of the overall population, making
their high school graduation rate more disproportionate that it seems.
But it's at the post-secondary level that the numbers get totally off-kilter.
This year, at the Nunatta campus of Arctic College, 64 women and 27 men are
expected to graduate with various types of certificates and diplomas.
Nunavut Sivuniksavut, a pre-university preparation program based in Ottawa,
graduated 17 women and only three men this year. Last year, they graduated 15
women and only two men.
Government jobs aren't for everyone. Many capable people prefer to make a living
in the private sector, even in government-dominated Nunavut. But for many others,
a government job is a ticket to middle-class security and affluence: enough
food to eat, good housing, money in the bank.
A government job also offers a path to status, prestige, and for the talented
few, power. Those who rise through the ranks to become directors, assistant
deputy ministers, and deputy ministers often exercise more power and influence
than MLAs or cabinet ministers - and enjoy better job security than any politician.
Based on current trends, it's Inuit women and non-Inuit men who will wield
power and influence in the Nunavut of tomorrow. At the same time, the power
and influence of Inuit men will likely decline.
The happy side of it is this: gender is not the barrier to either academic
success or government employment that it once was in Nunavut. At the GN, women
outnumber men by a wide margin.
But this is not, to say the least, a healthy situation, especially when you
consider the ways in which men do outnumber women: crime, imprisonment, homelessness,
and suicide.
As everyone knows now, nearly all suicides in Nunavut are by young males. That
fact alone demonstrates that many men in Nunavut are suffering deeply, for reasons
that none of us can claim to fully understand. Nunavut's crime rates - which
in most categories, especially violent crime, are many times higher than Canada's
rates - are driven by males. The prison population, in turn, is overwhelmingly
male. And the growing numbers of homeless street people in Nunavut's larger
centres, such as Iqaluit or Rankin Inlet, are predominately male.
Nunavut's men, clearly, are not benefiting from the opportunities offered by
the creation of Nunavut to nearly the same extent as Nunavut's women - and we
don't have enough information to begin to try to figure out why this is happening.
The only sure things we know are the unanswered questions.
But education officials, and human resource staff at various government work
places must take note.
They can start by trying to figure out who is accepted for which jobs, who
is rejected, and why. Then they should try to figure out if a lack of trades
training, which covers occupations normally more attractive to men than to women,
is a factor in male unemployment. And, given Nunavut's high rates of criminal
convictions, they should figure out how many people are turned away from certain
jobs because of a criminal record. JB
May 20, 2005
Homelessness can happen
to anyone
There are a lot of social
issues that we as individuals, families and communities have to deal with on
a daily basis. In a growing community, social issues and social ills are sometimes
difficult to deal with.
Anyone can admit that they
have some issues that they were, or are being confronted with. Sometimes individuals
do not, or cannot, successfully bring closure to some of their personal problems.
When we are heavily burdened with dilemmas, we sometimes turn to substances
that we think will mask us.
These masking substances
include alcohol, marijuana and other addictions, which cost money. When we hide
heavily behind these walls, it drains us financially and taxes us in other ways.
Personal finances are usually depleted, putting us in situations that are unpleasant.
Other people can see through
our mask, but most are silent, knowing that we have to walk the sometimes lonely
path we put ourselves on. Even if someone were to loudly show us that we have
a problem, sometimes we just ignore them, and in turn, put additional layers
of masks on ourselves.
In spending our cash for
the quick flash of highs that we want and need, we end up unable to pay our
bills, and rent is usually the first bill that we throw in the garbage. In fact,
it is the most important payment we should regularly make. We eventually have
arrears, which get a life of their own, and in the end they become one of the
great burdens that we cannot, or will not, deal with.
We put our landlord in
a situation where they have the legal right to evict us. Upon eviction, we usually
say it's the landlord's fault, which is another mask.
At first we stay with family
or friends, and because we already have masks that drain our finances, we are
usually unable to devote full attention to paying the living costs at the place
where we're staying. This puts our welcome into the cold storage, and we have
to move on. We end up doing the same masking game.
Some end up at the homeless
shelter. If the shelter were not there, we would probably sleep in a shack.
It's good to get a clean bed to sleep on, but one of the burdens we carry with
us is that when you stay at the homeless shelter, it is a very tiring life.
We end up walking the streets
of Iqaluit, imprisoned within ourselves. This is a very embarrassing life, truly
humbling. Sometimes we cry alone. It is indeed a lonely low-life existence.
To those who have rental
arrears, pay your bills. To those who take in the homeless, your loving hearts
and caring minds are indeed priceless.
To those who turn away
the homeless, you may keep your castles. To the people who administer the homeless
shelter, thank you for being there, when our heads had no place to lay down.
To the Iqaluit Housing
Authority, when a radio announcement requests a tenant to call the office, I
sometimes think that person is on their way to the lonely streets of Iqaluit,
publicity given, before the person even starts that long lonely walk.
To those people who resist
the Salvation Army's attempts to improve services for the homeless: remember,
all the homeless people once thought that they would never have to leave their
homes. If it happens to them, you, or your family members or friends could become
your shelter neighbors too. The City of Iqaluit should not deal with this like
a little Toronto.
Believe me, there is not
much distance from where you are now to being on the other side of the window.
Editor's note: This
guest editorial was submitted to us by a former client of the Iqaluit shelter
for homeless people. It was written in response to those residents who oppose
moving the shelter to a larger building in Lower Base.
May 13, 2005
The real conflict of interest
Last March, MPs sitting on the House of Commons standing committee on fisheries
and oceans heard a serious allegation about one of the two men who run the Baffin
Fisheries Coalition.
The allegation is that Ben Kovic, the BFC's president, created a perception
of conflict of interest when he accepted that job soon after serving as chair
of the Nunavut Wildlife Management Board. That's because the NWMB makes recommendations
on whether fish and shrimp quotas should go to the BFC and other companies.
Since those recommmendations are usually rubbber-stamped by the Minister of
Fisheries and Oceans, that puts a lot of power into the hands of the NWMB: the
power to effectively decide who will make money from Nunavut's total allowable
catch of the offshore fishery, and who won't.
The evidence available to us so far, however, suggests that this allegation
is unfounded. The NWMB's 2004 fish quota recommendations were made in the early
part of the year, recommendations that happened to favour the BFC. But the job
competition that Kovic eventually won was not advertised until August of that
year. When he expressed interest in the BFC job, Kovic was not, as chair of
the NWMB, dealing with BFC issues.
But that, however, does not get the NWMB off the hook.
That's because, since at least 2001, the NWMB has been involved in a much more
serious conflict of interest of a different kind, but a conflict of interest
that raises questions about its impartiality as an environmental regulator.
Since about 2000, the NWMB has participated in an informal committee called
"the fisheries working group." The other participants are the Government
of Nunavut and Nunavut Tunngavik Inc. They did this because, in 2000, the Minister
of Fisheries and Oceans ordered that Nunavut interests would receive 100 per
cent of the turbot quota in a new exploratory fishing zone in northern Davis
Strait called "0A."
To their credit, GN and NTI officials wanted to ensure that Nunavut make the
best of this new opportunity. Along with the NWMB, they fostered the creation
of the Baffin Fisheries Coalition.
The BFC is structured as a not-for-profit corporation, with its own board of
directors and so on. But it's obviously a political creation, an instrument
for carrying out Nunavut government policy, and NTI policy.
It was, nevertheless, a good idea then and it's still a good idea now. Before
the BFC, individual HTOs and a few small fishing companies active in the Baffin
fishery each had to settle for a few small pieces of a very small pie. After
the BFC, the same organizations now get to share in a much bigger pie. Using
their combined strength, they can do things they couldn't do before, such as
the $5.1 million training plan announced earlier this year, and the impending
purchase of a Nunavut-owned fishing vessel.
There's just one problem with all of this. The Nunavut Wildlife Management
Board had no business being part of this process. The NWMB is an environmental
regulator, not an economic development agency. The public interest demands that
environmental boards should not participate in the creation of commercial enterprises,
especially enterprises they will be involved in regulating.
So by participating as a member of the Nunavut fisheries working group, a de
facto economic development body, the NWMB, as an organization, is in a conflict
of interest. They've signaled that in any quota allocation issue involving the
BFC's interests, it's highly unlikely that they will be impartial. And even
if they do act impartially, the public will believe that they are not.
If any other environmental board were to put itself into such a position, the
public wouldn't tolerate it for a second. Just imagine, for example, what might
happen if the Nunavut Impact Review Board were to participate in the creation
of a mining company - and then involve itself in an environmental review of
the very same company.
But that, in effect, is what the NWMB has done to itself. Given that other
groups in Nunavut outside the BFC, such as the Nattivak HTO of Qikiqtarjuaq,
have already applied, and been turned down, for turbot quota now controlled
by the BFC, this has led to endless conflict and lingering suspicions.
To restore public confidence in its impartiality, the NWMB must withdraw from
the Nunavut fisheries working group, and stay away from the creation of new
businesses and the formation of economic development policy. The GN and NTI
are more than capable of doing that work on their own. JB
May 06, 2005
Where's the training for mine jobs?
Thanks to the governments of Canada and Nunavut, and to the work put into it
by the Baffin Fisheries Coalition, Inuit in Nunavut may now gain access to an
organized $5.1 million program aimed at helping them get better jobs in the
fishing industry.
This is long overdue. Nunavut's offshore fishery generates, roughly, beween
$80 and $100 million a year. It's estimated that only about $9 million of that
makes its way back to Nunavut. There are many reasons for this, including the
inexperience and gullibility of Nunavut's early shrimp and turbot licence holders.
But another reason is the absence of a sustained training program for aimed
at helping Inuit rise out of lower-wage deckhand and factory jobs and into higher-paying
technical and professional jobs, the kind of jobs you can make a career out
of.
If the Nunavut fisheries training scheme has a flaw, it's that the funding
for it is guaranteed for three years only. Training takes a long time. If this
program turns out to be successful, its backers may discover that the money
may run out at the same time as dozens of trainees are still applying to get
in.
But it's a good start, and we wish them the best of luck.
There is however, another looming industry in Nunavut that promises to dwarf
the fishery in size and wealth: mining. Many southern firms, most of them small,
junior exploration companies, are already spending about $100 million a year
in Nunavut looking for commercially viable deposits of gold, diamonds and base
metals, creating seasonal jobs in the spring and summer months for people in
nearby communities.
But all that is small potatoes when compared with the money that will flow
in and out of Nunavut after the more promising exploration projects are transformed
into working mines. When that happens, the potential jobs will number in the
hundreds, and the dollars invested will measure in the hundreds of millions.
But the best paid jobs in the mining industries go to skilled, experienced
trades people and technicians: heavy equipment operators and so on. Without
access to training, the best jobs that many Inuit can hope to get are in the
minimum-wage ghetto: low-paid cafeteria work and other forms of menial labour
on behalf of sub-contractors hired to supply basic services to mine operators.
Meanwhile, the big money will be earned by seasoned professionals from the south.
So where is Nunavut's mine training program?
The Government of Nunavut has not been entirely inactive on the issue. Arctic
College runs some modest 14-week introductory programs that are supposed to
be available at all three of its regional campuses.
And in 2003, the GN formed an internal committee called the "Nunavut mine
training focus group." They're supposed to produce an education and training
strategy within about three years. But there's no sign of any money on the horizon
to pay for the things that such a strategy would likely call for, such as trades
training and upgrading in math skills.
In short, the Iqaluit-based Nunavut government just isn't moving fast enough
on mine training.
Right now, there are promising exploration projects underway in all three Nunavut
regions. But the ones most likely to become producing mines in the near future
are located in the Kivalliq and Kitikmeot regions. Unless the GN quickens its
pace on this issue, alienation among residents of Nunavut's westernmost region,
the Kitikmeot, is likely to deepen, threatening the unity of the territory.
And, no matter where they're located, new mines will bring disillusionment and
anger instead of hope and prosperity. JB
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