Back to back issues

Teapot's On, Door's Open by Scott Milsom Years ago, I used to run the roads of rural Guysborough County, fishing rod and can of worms at the ready, looking for little-touched streams and pools that might yield up a few delicious speckled trout. I remember driving once along Highway #16 between Monastery and the Town of Guysborough, and passing through the community of Lincolnville. I couldn't help notice that almost all the people there were Black. If I'd stopped to ask, I might have been directed to some favoured fishing hole, but I didn't. All I now remember about that long-ago drive is that I wondered about the community's name. I knew that most Nova Scotian Blacks had come here either at the time of the American Revolution or in the course of the War of 1812. How did rural Guysborough County come to have a Black community apparently named after an American President of the early 1860s? The question went unanswered, and I soon forgot it. But when I recently headed for a second time along Highway #16 toward Lincolnville I remembered, and I was determined to get an answer to that long-forgotten question. But first, I had to find the home of Alonzo and Sonja Reddick. It's on the "Lincolnville Loop," created in the mid-1980s, when road work was done in the area. Unlike on my years-ago visit, Highway #16 now bypasses the community of Lincolnville. In talking with Alonzo and Sonja, I discover that my hunch about Abraham Lincoln was right: the community was, indeed, named after him sometime early in the twentieth century, although it was originally settled late in the eighteenth century by Blacks, mostly from Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia, fleeing the American Revolution. Before it was called Lincolnville, the community was known variously as Tracadie Road or Guysborough Road, depending on which way you were approaching it. Lincolnville 25 years ago was a thriving community of about 200, but it has suffered a shrinkage common to many smaller communities across the province. There is little to keep young people there after they finish school, and today Lincolnville has an aging population of about 80. There are still about a dozen children of school age (students are bussed to school in nearby Guysborough), but the coming years are likely to see fewer and fewer of them. "The only big hope for this area," says Alonzo, who spent much of his working life at the now-closed oil refinery at Point Tupper, "is natural gas. There are already one or two Lincolnville people working at the plant in Goldboro, and there are rumours of other businesses starting up there. Other than that, people from here mostly work in Antigonish or Guysborough." Alonzo had eight children from an earlier marriage, but they are all scattered elsewhere in Nova Scotia and in central Canada. "They love to come back to visit," he says, "but there's no reason why they would stay here." The soil around Lincolnville has never supported a lot of farming. "People here used to keep a few cattle and tend a small garden," says Sonja. "But most of that sort of activity is gone now, though there's still one place here with goats, chickens, a milk cow, a horse, dogs, and chickens." Back in the 1960s, local people founded the Lincolnville Community Association, and Alonzo served as its first President. Today, that organization is known as the Lincolnville Community Development Association, and it maintains a community centre where Boy Scouts and Girl Guides meet. There is also a Community Access Point (CAP) there where local people can surf the Internet, and tutoring is offered there to students through a project based at Saint Francis Xavier University in Antigonish. As well, the Community Centre hosts various special events. Acquired in 1986, the Lincolnville Community Centre sits on about three acres of land owned by the Municipality of Guysborough. "We're hoping to get them to sell it to us for a dollar," Sonja tells me, "but it will cost us about $2,000 to have the land surveyed first. So, we're doing fund-raising for that, and we hope to have it done by the fall. Then, we want to develop a park and a playground there." The CAP site in the Community Centre was opened in 1998 and is, like the Centre itself, maintained by proceeds from dances, bingos, 45s parties, and other fund-raising events. "Lincolnville is getting smaller in terms of people," Sonja tells me, "but it's growing through the Internet. Earlier this year, we had a computer camp, through a program offered by the Antigonish/Guysborough Black Association. Students who did well in it were given surplus government computers along with free Internet access for a year. This summer we'll have a student at the CAP site, so it will be open eight hours every day." Sonja's parents lived in Lincolnville, though she herself was born in Glace Bay and spent much of her earlier life in Montréal and the United States. She came back to Nova Scotia in the late '70s and worked as a surgical nurse at St. Martha's Hospital in Antigonish until retiring in 1998. "My Mom married a porter on the train, and we moved to Montréal, where I went to nursing school," she recalls. "There were only two other Blacks in my class. Back in the late 1950s, Blacks were only beginning to emerge into the broader community. The Black community has made great gains over the years: Black people today can do anything they set their minds to. At one time, about all a Black man could hope for was to be a porter, and the women had little option but domestic work. Opportunities today are far broader." "When I came back here in the late ‘70s," Sonja continues, "there was certainly racial tension at local schools, but it was mostly unspoken. Now, racism is fought directly through the school curriculum – it's talked about openly – and things are much, much better." Lincolnville has, like other communities in this part of the province, suffered from the recent decision of the Eastern Counties Regional Library to suspend its bookmobile service. "They can't afford to maintain the bookmobiles," Alonzo says, "and the condition of roads in this area is bad, so that doesn't help. The bookmobile used to come for two hours every week, and people used it. The community misses that service." Most Black Nova Scotians belong to African United Baptist Churches, and Alonzo and Sonja, along with many others in Lincolnville and nearby Rear Monastary, attend the Baptist Church in Upper Big Tracadie, another largely Black community a few miles up the road. The church has an active Ladies' Auxiliary, as well as a Men's Brotherhood Group. Together, they makes donations to the Red Cross, the Nova Scotia Home for Coloured Children, and other charities. They also see to the maintenance of the church itself, as well as the local graveyard and parsonage. I was surprised, on driving the Lincolnville Loop, to find a small Catholic chapel. Not everyone in the community, I learned, is Baptist. Father Leo Cameron, who is based at St. Augustine's Monastery in the nearby village of Monastery, presides over the services there. "The first Catholic chapel was built in Lincolnville about forty years ago," he tells me, "largely through the efforts of Father Anthony Henry, who was at the monastery here back then. He was a very charismatic man. To look at him, you would never guess he was a clergyman. People were attracted to the Church through him. Today," Father Cameron continues, "when I preside over the celebrations in the Lincolnville church, I'm always uplifted by the wonderful atmosphere there. Everyone takes part enthusiastically, and perhaps that's because of the small size of the community there." The differences in faith among the people of Lincolnville, however, are more than made up for by the common sense of community. "It was faith in God that allowed Black people to survive slavery," Alonzo says, "and religion is the backbone of the community. There are Catholics and others here, as well as Baptists, but we all worship the same God in the end. Everybody in the community pitched in when they built St. Monica's, the Catholic chapel, regardless of their religion. And when someone dies, we don't ask what his or her religion was: we just all go and help to dig the grave. Last year, they put a new roof on the chapel, and people, Catholic and Baptist, all pitched in to help." "In the typical Lincolnville home," Sonja tells me over sweets and a cup of tea, "the teapot is always on and the door is always open. We're proud of being Nova Scotian, and all we want to do here is live in harmony with other communities in an atmosphere of mutual respect. Our grandfathers worked hard to create the foundations of what we have here today, and we love the life we live here. Lincolnville is not a rich place – we have single parents on family assistance, just like anywhere else, and they are trying to get the training to improve their situations – but nobody is going hungry here. People here are used to the lifestyle they have here, they feel safe and comfortable living here. And Lincolnville has something special about it that always makes you remember it as ‘home' when you're away." As I leave the Lincolnville Loop to take Highway #16 back toward home, it occurs to me that I'd neglected to ask Alonzo and Sonja where I might have been directed had I knocked on their door all those years ago and asked whether there were any good fishing holes in the area. After my day's visit, I head home confident that I'd have been offered a steaming mug, and that I'd have had my nose pointed in the direction of a good fish-fry. back to top back to top Celebrating Success in Nova Scotia's Small Communities We all read and hear so much about the difficulties facing our small rural and coastal communities that it can be easy to forget that there is a tremendous amount of wonderful things going on there too. People who live in our small communities say over and over again that they love living their lives where they are, that they want to stay in their communities. Indeed, thousands and thousands of Nova Scotians all across the province give generously of their time and efforts to help local community groups enrich life in their coastal and rural communities. Earlier this year, Nova Scotia's Coastal Communities Network (CCN), decided to celebrate at least a fraction of the enriching and successful work that takes places every day in our small communities. In February, CCN called on people working with community groups across the province to send in their nominations for our first annual Proud Community Awards. Then, at its Annual General Meeting held last weekend in Tatamagouche, we announced the winners of our Proud Community Awards, 2000. Delegates applauded the success stories of two finalists in each of four categories: Community Innovation, Resource Management, Seniors, and Youth. The winners and runners-up in all categories shared their stories and received an engraved plaque in recognition of their important, and successful, work. The winners and runners-up were: Community Innovation Winner: The Cumberland Trivia 1999 Committee, for its efforts in getting 25 local businesses and community groups to work together to create and market a trivia game. Cumberland Trivia 1999 was devised, boxed, and printed by Cumberland County businesses and volunteers, and each of its more than 2,000 questions deals with some aspect of life in Cumberland County. To date, more than $12,000 from the sale of games has been evenly split between the River Hebert Heritage Model Centre and the D. M. Cochrane Memorial Medical Centre. Runner-Up: Robert Dugan, for his work toward the renovation and expansion of the Community Hall in Morden, Kings County, including the addition of a new museum and much-needed improvements to Acadia Cross Memorial Park, a significant icon of Acadian heritage. He helped coordinate donations by local businesses with the work of Katimavik exchange students to improve the Hall, which is now a focus of local community pride. Resource Management Winner: The N. F. Douglas company has been an anchor of the economy of North Queens County for 125 years. It's sawmill in Caledonia produces quality white pine from woodlots where the word "stewardship" has real meaning. It is working in partnership with Kejimkujik National Park and the Smithsonian Institute to identify and evaluate sustainable forestry practices. The company's philosophy is that the today's forests, while providing a livelihood to today's parents, must also be there tomorrow to provide the same for today's children. Runner-Up: The Fundy Fixed Gear Council has worked tirelessly over the past several years to promote community-based management in local fisheries on the Nova Scotia side of the Bay of Fundy. Together with groups all around the Bay, it has worked withing the Bay of Fundy Fisheries Council to promote sustainable fisheries management practices. Seniors Winner: Don Reid is called "the Keeper of the Cliffs" in Cumberland County. He was the driving force behind the establishment in 1993 of the Joggins Fossil Centre and its subsequent development. He has collected fossils for over 70 years, and, through the years, he has shared his love and wonder of fossils with generations old and young. He is actively involved in efforts to have the Joggins fossil cliffs declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. Runner-Up: Minnie Sheffield has helped with the work of the Centreville (Kings County), Good Neighbour Club for most of her life. Among many other good works, she has helped provide polio vaccine to the children of Centreville, made bandages and dressings for the Cancer Society, knitted for the Red Cross, and canvassed for numerous charities. She also serves as President and Treasurer of the Centreville Hall Association. Youth Winner: The River Hebert District High School Student Council, co-chaired by Kris Terrio and Tanya Proctor, for efforts during the last school year when the local School Board was considering closing their school. They mobilized community groups and local businesses, organized a public student protest, focussed media attention on the issue, wrote letters to decision makers, and attended School Board meetings to make their case. The School Board eventually decided to keep the school open, in no small part due to the work of Kris and Tanya. Runner-Up: Shauncy Wilburn, of Kentville, who served recently as the Vice-President of the Kings County Diversity Youth Association. She has been involved in tutoring and adult training, and has helped organize Youth Christmas Socials and Summer Fun Days. She has also represented this region at the Miss Black Canada Pageant in Ontario. For more information on the Proud Community Awards, or on the Coastal communities Network, contact Scott Milsom at (902)445-7168, fax 445-7134, or e-mail at ccnews@ns.sympatico.ca.   The Great Nova Scotia Trivia Contest Here are some of the questions from the Third Annual Great Nova Scotia Trivia Contest, held in April during CCN's Annual General Meeting in Tatamagouche. Some are quite difficult: if you don't immediately know an answer, try looking at the "Hint" below before checking for the correct answer. What nineteenth-century Nova Scotia writer coined the phrase "kit and caboodle"? Parrsboro is named after John Parr, colonial Governor of Nova Scotia. In what decade did he become Governor? On what island is Point Aconi? What mainland Nova Scotia community is geographically closest to Big Tancook Island? Where did "Giant" Angus MacAskill die? When it comes to the role of the sexes as they relate to governance, what is major difference between Mi'Kmaq and European cultures? What is the name of the beach at Kejimkujik National Park Seaside Adjunct? Who wrote Masters of Their Own Destiny? What happened on the evening of Thursday, October 23, 1958? In what county will you find Cheesefactory Corner? What was the only party other than the Liberals and Conservatives to form a government in Nova Scotia? Why does Nova Scotia give a Christmas tree every year to the city of Boston? What's the second-largest lake in mainland Nova Scotia? In the late nineteenth century, a slave revolt occurred in Jamaica. Many of what the British considered "ringleaders" of the revolt were sent to Nova Scotia. Many stayed, but a large portion of them departed soon after to what African country? Where in Nova Scotia are nineteenth-century agricultural practices carried out? In what riding to people resident on Sable Island vote in provincial elections? What Lunenburg County community once served as the administrative capital of Acadie? Hints: 1. Windsor celebrates him 2. Loyalist decade 3.Smaller than Cape Breton 4. Aspotogan Peninsula village 5. A ferry runs there 6. Mom-and-Pop operation 7. Kate's stream? 8. Anti-gonish priest 9. Cumberland tragedy 10. Also an English county 11. Joe Howe helped start it 12. The Big Bang 13. Near a grand wildlife park 14. Tragically in the news lately 15. A living museum 16. A high proportion of students vote here 17. A ferry and a bakery Answers: Thomas Chandler Haliburton The 1780s. Boularderie Island Blandford Englishtown Mi'Kmaq culture is matriarchal, European is patriarchal St. Catherine's River Beach Father Moses Coady The Springhill "Bump" Hants County The Anti-Confederation Party As thanks for help offered in the wake of the Halifax Explosion Shubenacadie Grand Lake Sierra Leone Ross Farm Museum. Halifax Citadel LaHave A Word of Thanks The Coastal Communities Network held its Annual General Meeting in Tatamagouche April 14-16. We want to thank: Human Resources Development Canada for sponsoring the gathering. As well, our gratitude is due to the following organizations that donated prizes given out in the course of the weekend: Acadia Centre for Small Business & Entrepreneurship Atlantic Lotto Atlantic Progress Magazine Fundy Voyageur Tours Heritage Canada Home Hardware, Wolfville Harbourville Fishermen's Association Harbourville Restoration Society Keddy's Motor Inn, Truro Maple Springs Pure Maple Syrup The Navigator Magazine N.S. Dept of Fisheries & Aquaculture Rural Delivery Magazine Sou'wester Magazine Plane un aigle/ The Eagle Soars What follows was written in 1996 by Michel Thibault, a teacher in the District of Clare in western Nova Scotia and Artistic Director for the Acadian musical group Grand Dérangement. (Translation in English with the best of intentions and spirit by Michel Belliveau.) We re-print it here to help foster cross-cultural understanding among all the people of Nova Scotia and the Maritimes. On parle trop peu souvent de l'amitié qui a existé entre la nation Mi'Kmaq et le peuple acadien pendant le 17ième et le 18ième siècle. Sans cette entente fraternelle, il est fort probable que le peuple acadien aurait succombé aux misères de son passé en Nouvelle-Écosse sous la tutelle du gouverneur Lawrence. "Plane un aigle" est une façon de dire merci ! We tend to forget the bond of friendship that existed between the Mi'Kmaq nation and the Acadian people during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Thanks to the bond of brotherhood and self-sacrifice, many Acadians survived the atrocities inflicted by Governor Lawrence of Nova Scotia in 1755. "Plane un aigle" is our way of saying "Thanks!" Plane un aigle/The Eagle Soars Par dessus les rivières, les lacs et les ruisseaux. Over the rivers, the lakes and streams Par dessus les forêts de chênes et de bouleaux; Over the forests, of oak and birch Plane un aigle vêtu de vaillance et de courage Soars an eagle dressed with valour and courage Plane un aigle qui étale une épopée dans son plumage. Soars an eagle, an epic message in its feathers À travers les années de guerre et de misère Throughout years of war and misery À travers deux histoires de gloire et de prières; Throughout two histories of glory and prayers Plane un aigle qui a veillé sur les âmes humiliées Soars an eagle watching over humiliated souls Plane un aigle qui a légué à deux peuples une amitié. Soars an eagle bonding two peoples with friendship Je sens l'esprit de Membertou dans les flots du Sissibou I feel the spirit of Membertou in the waters of the Sissiboo Je sens une certaine tendresse dans les loups et les madouesses I feel a tenderness from the wolves and the madouess (porcupine) Je sens le parfum de ma jeunesse dans le mashquoui, les picojis I smell odors of my youth in the mashquoui and the picojis Je sens la magie des voix rauques dans les plaines et les mecauques I sense the magic of the raucous voices in the fields and mecauques (low lands) Au nom de ceux qui ont survécu les saisons glaciales In the name of those who survived the freezing seasons Au nom de ceux qui ont veillé les malades de Port Royal In the name of those who helped the sick of Port Royal Au nom de ceux qui ont courru les forêts, déracinés In the name of those roamed in the forest, uprooted Au nom de ceux qui sont morts dans les bras de l'amitié, In the name of those who died in the arms of friendship Je m'engage à donner à mon fils la vérité I pledge to relay my son the truth Je m'engage à lui léguer une plume de vérité. I pledge to hand him the feather of truth. back to top   Development, or Damage? Two issues ago, we presented an article about an experimental program currently being set up in Industrial Cape Breton. (See "Lab Mice, or Good Advice," in the January/February issue.) Last issue (March/April), we presented a view other than that outlined in the previous article. Here, we present a third view. We hope that these three opinions represent a sufficiently wide range on this issue. by Elizabeth Beaton, Whitney Pier Resident The "Opinion" piece by the Social Research and Demonstration Corporation (SRDC) in the last issue of Coastal Communities News, with its sadly and ironically mistaken title of "Moving Beyond Short-Term Job Creation," fails to engage the legitimate debate on the Community Employment and Innovation Project (CEIP) in Cape Breton. As a stolid reiteration of previous press releases, with almost no new information, it is cowardly and arrogant, and is reminiscent of the stance taken by SDRC at community meetings. To date, questions of training, travel, benefits, medical insurance, and child care for targeted Employment Insurance and social assistance recipients have received no consistent responses. Single mothers will be particularly stressed in budgeting a $280 weekly wage. Training, if any, will be short-term time-fillers between jobs, nothing like the three-year Public Service Commission training offered to one of the CEIP administrators in Sydney. "Success" is weakly defined by the Project's promoters in terms of "attitude," of finding out whether Cape Bretoners "really want to work." Another yardstick of this "success" is the amount of money saved – not used – by the Employment Insurance and social assistance programs. Termed "rigorous" in the SRDC article, the methodology for this project is obscured by jargon. On a wider level, this type of project is consistently criticized by researchers across North America as unsustainable and politically driven. Eric Shragge's 1997 book, Workfare: Ideology for a New Underclass, published by Halifax-based Garamond Press, offers examples of this research. For people whose "choices" are already seriously limited by poverty and the strict rules of living on social assistance or EI, there is an inherent lack of choice when deciding whether to participate in the CEIP. SRDC Executive Director John Greenwood has informed me that EI and social assistance will not continue payments in exchange for Project work: rather, the wages will pass from Human Resources Development Canada (HRDC), through SRDC, and then to the recipients. What will happen if participants leave the Project and wish to return to EI or social assistance? People who raised this question at meetings were right to fear the legislated repercussions of leaving a "job." The Project will cause serious damage to non-profit groups and to the communities they serve. The "work" carried out by participants will be meaningless and without any moral relationship to community. I fear that non-profit community groups will be denied further funding if they don't take part, as is happening with similar projects in Ontario. This would prevent genuinely skilled and essential work being done. It is interesting that local HRDC offices that have previously worked with non-profit groups in Cape Breton may lose their ability to play a positive role in supporting real development. Worse still, other government agencies have co-opted genuine community-based development efforts in order to indirectly force the CEIP onto communities. A full 30 percent of total CEIP funds ($11.9 million of the $39.5 million) are to be used for operational expenses. This amount, in itself, calls for serious questions to be asked about HRDC's spending decisions, and should be brought to the attention of Parliament. How this money will be spent is, like the Project's methodology, obscure and tentatively planned. I urge readers to ask SRDC for a budgetary explanation, and I wonder whether they will come away better informed than I have been. The bottom line, however, is clear: this Project, fully funded through a "contribution agreement" with HRDC, will keep the Ottawa based, not-for-profit SRDC afloat, with well-paid employees, for eight years. The only new information in the SRDC article concerns the role Statistics Canada will play in "information gathering" among the 750 people who will not "work." Simply ensuring confidentiality doesn't fully protect people's rights. Our communities must monitor this process very closely to ensure that the questions asked don't further victimize or manipulate people already made vulnerable by their economic situation. Because of the fear and greed that are inherent to it, we must look at the morality underlying this Project. The CEIP's targets are the most vulnerable in our communities, and they will receive poverty-level wages, while the well-paid jobs go to the administrators. Non-profit groups fear loss of funding for their work, while community activists fear loss of their own livelihoods if they speak out in the debate. This Project fits well with a dominant mindset across North America, one that attacks the poor with full impunity, with middle-class support, and with tremendous political dividends. Other community groups will get money if they take part: even as they doubt the benefits and question the morality of the Project, they say to themselves, "If the money is coming anyway, we might as well get in on it." The CEIP, or the "Cape Breton Experiment," is yet another top-down means for a few to benefit from a desperate social and economic situation. It further exacerbates the dependency of Industrial Cape Breton. By failing to recognize human dignity, it also fails to provide support to the fulfilment of our human purpose. We must understand and confront the CEIP's implications for the degradation of community values. The people of Industrial Cape Breton will need great faith and courage to overcome the damage being done here. back to top From Liverpool to Here: The Long and Winding Road by Scott Milsom It's only over the past dozen years or so – give or take a few, depending who you're talking to – that the term "community economic development" (CED) has meant anything at all to most Nova Scotians. But Jim Lotz has been living and breathing CED since even before he arrived in this province way back in 1971 to teach the subject at St. Francis Xavier University in Antigonish. Two years later he moved to Halifax, where he has kept himself in groceries by working as a freelance writer, an association executive, and a consultant in CED. The moment Jim opens his mouth, it's obvious to any ear that his origins are neither Nova Scotian nor Canadian. In fact, the road he travelled from a working-class district of Liverpool, England, where he was born in 1929, to Nova Scotia has been a long one, with many twists and turns along the way. After serving two years in the Royal Air Force, Jim earned a Bachelor's degree in Geography from Manchester University before leaving Britain in 1953 to spend a year as a private trader in what was then the British colony of Nigeria. Then, he chose to come to Canada. "A sort of colonial mentality was still very common back then," he recalls, "and I decided to come to Canada and 'offer my services' to the federal government." Ottawa was not immediately bowled over by the young Englishman's offer, so Jim marked time by working as a billing clerk and ad-copy writer at an Ottawa grocery store. In 1957 he earned his Master's degree in Geography from McGill University. (Through the years, he has done post-graduate work in planning, anthropology, and theology.) Later that same year, Jim found himself on an expedition to northern Ellesmere Island in the high Arctic, where he conducted research on glaciers. This was just one of a number of Arctic projects he was involved with in the late 1950s.Then, he recalls, "In 1959, I decided to quit that sort of thing and just go skiing. Of course, I broke my ankle, and the next year I was on another research trip to Ellesmere Island. This was the height of the Cold War, and the idea was to find out whether the American military could land its big bombers up there. The project involved a lot of complicated physics, and I soon realized that I'd reached my level of competence in the hard sciences." Jim then turned his attention to the social aspects of the Arctic by joining the Department of Northern Affairs, which sent him to Whitehorse to study the "problem" of squatters – settlers who constructed or enlarged "homes" on land they lacked legal title to. "Sending me there was a sort of bureaucratic ritual: whenever a new researcher came on staff with the Department, they'd be sent up to do a 'study' and write a report on it. And, course, the second part of the ritual was that nothing would be done, that the report would be buried. Well, I went up there and hired one of these squatters and, together, we took a serious look at the problem. It turned out that what the Department was seeing as a 'squatter' problem was in reality a community problem. What the squatters were creating was poor man's public housing. People were responding to their situation in the only way they could. Of course, they tried to bury the report, but I insisted that they print it and I saw that it was sent to the Yukon and circulated there." In 1964, Jim left Northern Affairs, studied Geography at the University of British Columbia, and in 1966 took a teaching position with a Catholic, francophone university in Ottawa, where he began teaching community development and conducting research into unemployment and urban renewal. He also worked in Alaska before finally landing feet-first in Antigonish to teach at St. F. X.'s Coady International Institute. In the almost three decades Jim has been based in Halifax, he has explored the frontiers of CED by working with Native, community development, and environmental organizations, government agencies, and citizens' groups. In the mid-'90s, he became a Senior Research Fellow of the Community Economic Development Institute at the University College of Cape Breton. (As he shows me his business card that proclaims this position, Jim says, "Sure, it's a very fancy title, but neither the work nor the pay are quite so lofty as all that.") Last year, he also began to teach CED at the Truro Campus of the Nova Scotia Community College. Over the years, Jim's view of what it takes to be a successful teacher has changed. "I started teaching," he says, "thinking of myself as a teacher, as the 'leader' of my classes, but gradually I came to see it as being a facilitator instead. The key is to look at the latent abilities and leadership of the students in every class. My idea of good teaching is to try to break the students' dependency on the teacher. Eventually, the class begins to teach itself. I can sit in an office down the hall if they needed me, but, if the job of teaching is done right, the class will run, will direct, itself. I've often been overwhelmed at the quality of my students. Once they grasp that they are responsible for their own learning, then they move forward." Jim is a writer as well as a teacher. "Academics think I'm a journalist, and journalists think I'm an academic," he says of having his nose in both worlds. Along with dozens of articles in academic and other publications, he has co-authored two books and written sixteen others by himself, some about CED, others on subjects ranging from the Antigonish Movement, to Canadian history, and even four paperback thrillers. And in his "spare" time, he has also managed to serve as President of the Writers' Federation of Nova Scotia, and to do volunteer work for Canadian Executive Service Organization in places as far afield as Central Europe and Labrador. His most recent book, The Lichen Factor: The Quest for Community Development in Canada, draws on both his Arctic and CED experiences. In the Canadian Arctic there are more than 1,000 species of lichen, a unique, cooperative organism made up of both fungi and algae, each of which requires the other to survive. In The Lichen Factor, Jim uses examples of ways three different creatures have evolved to survive in the harsh Arctic environment: caribou, symbol of conflict, often fight among themselves, sometimes entangling their horns so completely that both animals perish; musk-oxen, symbol of confrontation, gather together in a circle for mutual defence – an effective tactic against predators such as wolves – but they are unable to adopt any new strategy when faced by armed human hunters, who can easily slaughter the slow-witted beasts; lichen, symbol of cooperation, work together to assure mutual survival. "During times of rapid change," Jim writes: There are opportunities to break out of traditional circles and to explore the depths of the self and the wonders of life beyond it. The humble lichen points the way to doing this, its symbiotic form illustrating the benefits of mutual aid and cooperation in difficult places and times. Lichen are not intellectual constructs... They do not exist to teach or preach about better ways of surviving and thriving in harsh environments. They simply are, integral parts of nature. Their symbiotic form breaks through the entrenched "either/or" mindset that divides people and communities. Heavy stuff, but the lessons that can be learned from Jim's symbolism when looking at CED are at once simple and profound. For generations, lichen, which do not even appear in the fossil record, have baffled scientists: what is the exact nature of the relationship between the algae and fungi? Nobody can quite say for certain. "Similarly," says Jim, "CED baffles economists, because of the intangibles of the human condition, something economists can't begin to measure." The role of government in creating a favourable atmosphere for CED is crucial, says Jim. "All over the world," he says, "the gaps between government and people are widening. These gaps are marked by enormous amounts of power and money, of centralization, secrecy, and power. People are encouraged to think only of themselves, and that makes it hard to get people to look at the broader picture, to look at society and see where things are organized or administered in a good or bad way." Nevertheless, he believes, "CED is taking place all over the world." And in Canada, Nova Scotia is leading the way in CED, "because all the partners support it." Those "partners," of course, include all levels of government as well as grass-roots community organizations, people who come together for a common cause. "Community organizing," Jim says, "is generally seen as people getting together to oppose some evil, but community groups have to reinforce government when it does the right thing, even as they oppose the stupidities governments can hatch. Even in government, not everyone is either a villain or a hero. People are people, capable of both terrible mistakes and great accomplishments." Jim Lotz has accomplished much in a life that has led him from the streets of a British seaport, through the heart of tropical Africa, to the severe climate of the Arctic, and, finally, to this wonderful but often troubled place we call Nova Scotia. And, in his time here, he has done much to lessen the troubles and to add to the wonders of Nova Scotian life. And, given the wisdom his many students have gained through the years, it's clear that he's far from finished making daily life in our small communities an ever more wondrous thing. Jim Lotz is developing a website. You can check it out at www.communitywise.com. back to top Barb of Hook, or Barb of Spear? by Nancy MacPherson, Ecology Action Centre "A swordfish is the prettiest blue you ever did see. I'd be seeing it in my sleep." This fisherman's comment comes from the first comprehensive study of the swordfishery in Atlantic Canada. The Decline of the Cape Breton Swordfjshery: an Exploration of the Past and Recommendations for the Future of the Nova Scotia Fishery, written by Dalhousie University graduate student Gretchen Fitzgerald, was recently released by the Ecology Action Centre of Nova Scotia. It takes an in-depth look at the past, present, and future of the swordfishery, covering swordfish biology, the history of the fishery – including First Nations' involvement – conservation concerns, and the fishery's rich culture. As much as possible, Gretchen has relied on interviews with fishermen to tell the story of the fishery. More than 40 fishermen were interviewed about the fishery's history, which began in the early 1900s. Until the 1960s, half the swordfish landed in Atlantic Canadian waters were caught off the coast of Cape Breton. It's been estimated that during the '30s and '40s, there were between 100 and 400 harpooning boats fishing out of Louisbourg Harbour alone. Today, swordfish are rarely seen near shore, but the following fisherman's story reveals the abundance of swordfish, even near the coast, during those times: "One afternoon, off Louisbourg, we saw two women on the beach waving. 'They must see something' [my shipmate said], and I said 'To hell with them, they want our picture.' Next thing you know, two fins came out of the water. We stuck the fish and they took our picture with the fish." The 1960s brought new technology to the industry, when surface (pelagic) longline gear was introduced to Atlantic Canadian waters. It's thought that this technology was either borrowed from the groundfishery or from foreign vessels using the gear to catch sharks. Surface longline gear can be anywhere from 25 to 40 miles long and can have from 1,000 to 1,500 baited hooks. A longliner can catch, in a single trip, what a harpooner can in a whole season, or even in several seasons. While longlining usually results in higher catches with less fishing effort, harpooning provides a more equitable distribution of wealth. Longlining was certainly effective in catching swordfish but, predictably, the bounty didn't last. Today, swordfish are seldom seen off Cape Breton. Fishermen have identified several causes for this decline, including changes in oceanographic conditions, overfishing by the harpoon fleet, changes in fishing patterns, the spread of longlining in the northwest Atlantic, and the construction of the Canso Causeway in 1955. The report reaches two main conclusions about the two methods of catching swordfish: longlining has far-reaching impacts on the ocean's pelagic ecosystem because of the number of swordfish caught (including immature fish), and the by-catch of other species, such as shark and turtles. Longlining should be closely regulated; and harpooning, while not without environmental impact, is a more sustainable way to swordfish, and should be encouraged In discussing the collapse of the Cape Breton swordfishery, Gretchen makes the point that "improvements in technological process do not necessarily coincide with improvements in ecological process. Sometimes we are accused of holding on to older ways because of nostalgia and fear of new things. I wish that before new technologies, such as pelagic longlining, were put into practice, people would look at traditional gear types and think: 'Will this new gear have more or less impact on the ocean?'" Harpooners and former longliners are both concerned about the destructive nature of surface longlining. Fishermen's views of the by-catch in longlining are summed up by such comments as, "We got so sick of it: the teeny fish, the leatherbacks, blackfish [pilot whales] all balled up, sharks by the thousands." Reports from fisheries observers confirm that the levels of by-catch and discarding are high with swordfish longlining. The Decline of the Cape Breton Swordfishery contains a tally (from an observer report) from a single longlining trip in 1997. (See Table I.) In total, fifteen species were caught, including other tuna (swordfish are technically a species of tuna themselves), and billfish. Swordfish roam far and wide, and many countries fish them in the North Atlantic, so quota allocations and other management techniques are complex. The International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas (ICCAT) regulates the fishery at the international level. Canada has ten percent of the North Atlantic quota. Because of our relatively low share of the swordfish quota, some Canadian fishermen feel their conservation efforts will be in vain as long as other countries refuse to change their own fishing practices. One felt he was regulated far too heavily, while beyond the 200-mile limit fishing is essentially unregulated. Another commented, "I'll be dead and gone before they [swordfish] come back." A 1998 ICCAT report found that North Atlantic swordfish stocks have declined by 68 percent since 1968. ICCAT has implemented annual decreases in quotas since 1995, although a recent assessment suggests slight stock recovery. These quota reductions have hit longliners hardest, because they have been catching most of the quota. Some longliners recently asked the Department of Fisheries and Oceans to split the quota, offering the harpooners ten percent of the Canadian quota. Meetings of the two gear sectors, were held, but no agreements were reached. Then, in mid-March, DFO decided to allocate the Canadian quota on a 90/10 basis, as the longliners had asked. Until now, the quota has been equally available to both gear sectors, with about 50 longliners catching, roughly, between 80 and 90 percent of Canada's quota and up to 150 harpooners landing the rest. (These figures have varied somewhat over the years.) Harpooner Franklyn d'Entremont of West Pubnico feels the quota allocation will make life harder for him. "This split," he says, "means that we will never be able to fish to our potential again." Occasional good years of harpooning swordfish have provided a life-line to Franklyn that has allowed him to stay in the fishery. That life-line is now gone. Harpooners and environmental groups such as the Ecology Action Centre are opposed to DFO's 90/10 quota split because it will limit the amount of fish caught by harpooning (the only completely selective fishery, making it preferable from a conservation standpoint). It will also open the door to privatization through the introduction of Individual Transferable Quotas (ITQs) to the swordfishery. In other fisheries, ITQs have led to the concentration of quota in the hands of larger players and the edging out of smaller operators. With DFO's latest decision, the same is likely in store for the swordfishery. The Decline of the Cape Breton Swordfishery seeks to illuminate the history of this fishery, drawing on the perspective of fishermen who gain both an income and a source of pride and culture from it. It recommends to government that "it is time fisheries management considered the historical perspective when forming future policies affecting fishermen, [people] who were fishing a sustainable fishery long before the government imposed any regulations." A glimpse of the history of this threatened but potentially sustainable way of life can be found in this fisherman's comment: "I've listened to swordfishing tales since I was five years old. The whole family was into it. It's an addiction ... it's got pot all beat to hell." For a copy of The Decline of the Cape Breton Swordfishery, contact the Ecology Action Centre of Nova Scotia, 1568 Argyle St., Suite 31, Halifax, N.S. B3J 2B3, or phone 429-2202. First Nations and Fishermen Work Together by Irene Novaczek, Save Our Seas and Shores Coalition A new coalition called Save Our Seas and Shores has brought together people from a range of sectors to fight a common cause. The cause is to keep the oil-and-gas industry from drilling on the inshore fishing grounds of the southern Gulf of St. Lawrence. The people involved are more often highlighted in the media because of their differences rather than their common ground. They are First Nations, fishermen's associations, environmentalists, and tourism operators. Like the historic alliance among dragger fleets, inshore fishermen, and environmentalists that fought and won the battle to preserve George's Bank from industrial drilling, this coalition is determined to set aside differences and focus on the common cause. The stakes are high. The beaches and shallow waters of the southern Gulf serve as back-drop to growing tourism and aquaculture sectors, and are the mainstay of some 20,000 fishery workers. The area is critical habitat for recovering groundfish, endangered Atlantic salmon, spawning herring and mackerel, lobster, scallops, whales, and dolphins. Coalition members fear that politicians wanting to stimulate the economy will put all this at risk in return for a handful of short-term jobs in the oil industry. They don't want a future where rigs and flares can be seen close to shore, and if that happens they predict a decline in the numbers and health of marine species due to chronic small, and occasional large, spills of oil and gas. They don't want soiled beaches, valuable bottom habitat covered with toxic drilling mud, or an increase in polluting marine traffic. Exclusion zones around exploration and drilling activities would restrict access to traditional fishing grounds. Natural migration patterns through Northumberland Strait would be disrupted. Stress levels would rise and economic opportunities shrink in coastal communities dependent on the fisheries and marine tourism. Coalition members are also disturbed by the process that gives the oil companies access to these inshore waters. The identification of exploration areas and the subsequent bidding for permits are carried out in secret. Coastal dwellers hear about it only after exploration licences have been granted. The process doesn't allow the pro-active setting aside of sensitive habitats or special places as off limits. The oil-and-gas industry is simply free to place a bid on any piece of ocean bottom. Recently, exploration permits have been approved for Sydney Bight and the shores along the Cabot Trail. Seismic testing has already taken place off Sydney, and Corridor Resources, the company granted the exploration permits, could begin testing along the Cabot Trail next year. The Save Our Seas and Shores Coalition is demanding that Corridor's exploration licence be revoked and a moratorium placed on further oil-and-gas development. It wants sensitive spawning, nursery, and migratory areas placed off limits, and is asking for a comprehensive assessment of the impact of exploration and development on all commercial species, including the salmon, whales, and dolphins that attract tourists to Cape Breton each year. But government has only agreed to commission a "literature search," which would compile and analyse existing information. The trouble with this is that studies of the impact of seismic testing and oil-and-gas development are few, and none have been carried out in the Gulf, which has a unique marine climate. Some fishermen, scientists, and environmentalists have been approached to serve on a committee to oversee this study. Many of them have refused to take part because of the study's narrow scope, the lack of relevant and available information, and — most importantly — because the study's terms of reference are not to determine whether seismic blasting and subsequent oil-and-gas development can proceed, but only where and when it will proceed. The federal Department of Fisheries and Oceans is responsible for safeguarding fish and fish habitat, but it has been conspicuously silent. In the aftermath of the Marshall Decision, one might think some effort would be made to consult with the Mi'Kmaq people about this exploration. Apparently, though, the Mi'Kmaq will only be able to dream of a future where the waters and fish are healthy and access is unimpeded by oil-and-gas activity. In many other parts of the world, including Great Britain, British Columbia, and the United States, sensitive fisheries habitat and/or the entire inshore is off limits to oil-and-gas drilling. Why should eastern Canada be an exception? Is it because of high unemployment in Cape Breton that the oil-and-gas industry has started its activities along the Sydney and Cabot Trail shores? Do we even need to extract this oil and gas? There is already much development off Newfoundland and along the Scotian Shelf. We still have no clear idea of what the long-term environmental impacts of those developments will be. Shouldn't we slow down and count the costs before expanding this industrialization of the marine environment? What is the oil and gas being extracted from Atlantic Canada being used for? Not to reduce our fuel bills, that's for sure. A pipeline is taking Sable gas straight to the eastern United States, whose industries already supply us with enough acid rain to poison our rivers and lakes. Does it make sense for us to promote and increase industrial development upwind? And what about global warming? Hasn't Canada made an international commitment to reduce its use of oil and gas? Coastal Nova Scotians can already see glimpses of what the future has to offer — wild storms and storm surges, coastal erosion, and flooding. The Save Our Seas and Shores Coalition is circulating a petition, providing information to the public, lobbying politicians, and keeping this issue in the media in order to encourage others to join the fight for the health of the southern Gulf. Its cause received a major boost when, in January, its position was endorsed by the Atlantic Policy Congress of First Nations' Chiefs. The Maritime Fishermen's Union, the P.E.I. Fishermen's Association, the Gulf Nova Scotia Fleet Planning Board, and other fishermen's organizations are firmly behind the Coalition, as are many environmental groups, tourism operators, and clergy. We welcome the participation of other concerned Maritimers. To join the Save Our Seas and Shores Coalition, or to download its petition and information brochures, visit its website at http://north.nsis.com/~egilsson/hereeither. htm. back to top Coastal Communities News Acknowledgements Coastal Communities News is published bi-monthly by the Coastal Communities Network, a non-profit society registered in the province of Nova Scotia. Coastal Communities News is made possible by the generous efforts of many volunteers, and by financial contributions from Human Resources Development Canada, and by donations and in-kind contributions from the Nova Scotia Department of Education and Culture, as well as from member groups and organizations. We welcome all articles and submissions, from individuals and groups, with content in keeping with the role and nature of this magazine. We reserve the right to edit all submissions. Except where additional credit has been given, all articles are prepared by the Editor and Editorial Board. Join the Coastal Communities Network Our Mission Statement The Coastal Communities Network is a volunteer association of organizations whose mission is to provide a forum to encourage dialogue, share information, and create strategies and actions that promote the survival and development of Nova Scotia's coastal and rural communities. "A Large Voice for Small Communities" CCN is made up of organizations rooted in Nova Scotia's coastal and rural communities, and it is the diversity of its membership that gives it strength. Your organization, and your community, can help CCN determine its direction and strengthen its voice still further. Join the Coastal Communities Network today. How to Become Involved in the Coastal Communities Network CCN's strength lies in its membership, which is made up of organizations rooted in Nova Scotia's coastal communities. The range of member organizations is very broad, including churches, fish harvester groups, municipalities, community and regional economic development agencies, unions, universities, and local community groups. CCN welcomes the participation of any organization that represents the interests of a coastal community or issue and is interested in working together with similar groups across the province. Your organization can become involved in a number of ways: — by participating in regular monthly meetings of the CCN membership. These are held in Truro (usually on the first Tuesday of each month), and allow representatives from member organizations to review what is happening in coastal communities across the province, plan actions on issues of common concern, and review progress on CCN-sponsored projects; — by getting on our mailing list to receive regular copies of Coastal Communities News. Send us your name and address by mail or fax, or call us directly; — by contributing written articles to Coastal Communities News, and so letting everyone know what's happening in your community; — by taking part in CCN workshops and information sessions. Special events like this are held on topics of importance to coastal communities (for example, community economic development, co- management in the fishery, etc); — by inquiring about CCN's resource library, which includes information, reports, and studies on topics that affect the future and sustainability of coastal communities. You may contact us at: CCN Coordinator: PO Box 1613 Pictou, N.S. B0K 1H0 Phone:(902)485-4754 Fax:(902)445-7134 e-mail:coastalnet@ns.sympatico.ca CCN Communications Office: Phone: (902) 445-7168 Fax: (902) 445-7134 e-mail:ccnews@ns.sympatico.ca back to top

CCN Publications  | Co-Management  | Make It Happen  | Up-Dates Glossary  | CCN Magazine  | Main Port  | Fish Facts  | Information Kit  | SUBSCRIBE!!!  | E-Mail