When I look back over the 15 years I have been writing this beaver blog, some of my fondest, most joyfully uproarious posts have been mocking the hallowed coverage given to wildlife trappers. Both men and women of this trade are usually written about as timeless heroes, rugged everymen living off the land, fiercely pitting their wits against a coyote or raccoon. I truly never has as much fun as I do making fun of the obvious admiration and envy urban concrete reporters seem to share for this murderous bunch.
But this is just special. In a different class altogether. I hardly need to add any ribaldrous commentary. It speaks entirely for itself. I know you think I’m exaggerating. Just look.
“Helped me rejuvenate my soul:’ Inmates in Yellowknife learn trapping, outdoor skills
Inmates at the Yellowknife jail concentrate as they skin several squirrels, deftly moving their knives to remove the small animals’ soft fur, then scraping the remaining flesh and fat away.
Surrounded by murals featuring eagles and wolves, the more experienced men offer tips to their peers.
Roy Inuktalik, who is Inuvialuit and from Ulukhaktok, said he’s been hunting and trapping since he was five years old, but this is his first time skinning a squirrel.
“It was a good experience,” the 32-year-old said.
“I’m always willing to learn anything new. We learn new things everyday.”
Skills such as hunting, trapping and preparing animal pelts are traditionally passed from generation to generation, Inuktalik said, and it’s something he plans to keep on doing.
The mind literally reels. The jaw literally drops. Not only does yellow knife think trapping is so valuable they should train inmates to do it, they are so naive they think it’s a great idea to teach some lawless murders how to better cut the flesh away from things that used to be alive.
Seriously. Someone somewhere presented this idea in writing to the prison board and asked for funding for a workshop that taught inmates how to skin flesh from squirrels. I almost want to read the proposal.
“The skills that I’ve learned today will be locked into my memory.”
I’m sure they will. I’m sure you’ll think about them as you count off the days in your cozy cell waiting for your release. I’m sure you’ll draw on them again some day soon.
Every two weeks, experienced trappers lead classes at the North Slave Correctional Complex teaching inmates outdoor skills from how to set traps to snow machine repair and survival skills.
The program, which began as a pilot last year, is offered through a partnership with the territory’s Department of Environment and Natural Resources.
“This program is really great. It’s helped me rejuvenate my soul and keeps me nice and calm and happy,” Inuktalik said. “I like to learn different traditions and help keep them going strong.”
Oh good. I’m happy to think this came from the department of Environment and Natural Resources. I wouldn’t want to think all those natural resources are going to waste. And allow me just to say this is such a SPECTACULARLY bad idea that I knew a federal agency must be involved somewhere along the line.
I’m sure we’re all relieved Inuktalik’s soul is calm and happy. We wouldn’t want to make it angry or anything.
Vincent Casey, education outreach coordinator with the department, said the program empowers inmates and it helps many of them reconnect with their culture.
“A lot of the individuals who participate in the program have done this in the past,” he said. “It’s providing that connection, providing those skills and refreshing those skills … It’s empowering because they have this knowledge and they just need it to sort of percolate back up to the top.”
Casey said when the program started, about five people attended, but now up to 20 inmates can come to the classes.
The territorial jail is the largest correctional facility in the N.W.T. with the capacity to hold up to 148 adults and 25 youth. However, the number of people behind bars has been historically low over the past few years partly due to efforts to decrease COVID-19 risks.
It’s the largest prison in the northwest territories. So it’s not some fringe juvenile unit far outside anyone’s attention. A part of my brain almost thinks that the word ‘indigenous’ paralyzes all officials and makes them temporarily unable to think in a rational way. If you drop the I word into just about any crazy proposal I almost think it has a better chance of being funded. Just think how happy the Buffalo Bill from the silence of the lambs would have been to complete that program. “It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again.” He would have been teachers pet.
Inmates can have minimum to maximum security ratings and may be serving sentences under two years or awaiting trial.
Longtime trapper Carl Williams demonstrated how to prepare a fox pelt for sale, carefully handling it’s crinkling paper-thin skin, brushing its fur and pinning its ears. He says the fresh pelt was a “city fox” that was caught in Yellowknife, meaning it has more fat than animals that live in the bush.
“They had a good life,” he said.
The inmates end the class by roasting bannock on a stick over a crackling fire outside, a popular outdoor snack in the North, and enjoying the flame-cooked bread with butter and jam.
I think we will all be very very old before we read about an idea that is more stupid than this one. I guess fewer people really are trapping these days. And that means fewer people buying licenses. Which means we have to keep the spirit alive somehow. If it means a few more rape victims or children get skinned along the way, well that’s just an unfortunate side effect.
All those beavers won’t trap themselves.
