Public policy dialogue about the North tends to centre on despair. But when northerners talk northern governance, hope is the dominant theme.

Public policy dialogue about the North often centres upon themes of power or themes of despair.

The topics are so commonplace that they require minimal explanation: sovereignty and resource development or education and poor health. Public policy dialogue in the North rarely follows the same conceptual patterns, especially when the conversation is initiated by and held between northerners.

The Northern Governance Policy Research Conference held this week in Yellowknife was an exceptional example of a dialogue between northerners about the future of the Canadian North.

The conference brought together a diverse mix of scholars, community leaders and elders, elected chiefs, government policy makers, and committed activists.

Given the small pan-territorial population, one could be forgiven for expecting the same faces at this gathering as have appeared at so many conferences past.

Not so.

New faces of northern governance, policy, and research are emerging.

This is not to say that these people were lacking in familiarity.

In fact, one need only scan the list of presenters to recognize names familiar to many: Rhodes, Trudeau, Gordon, Donner. These names signal some of the most prestigious scholarships available today, and they are held by northerners who are studying at the world’s best universities as well as working with northern community organizations with the intention of doing research that may, someday, contribute to the advancement of northern governance.

Evidence from this conference suggests that a significant contribution is already being made.

One of the reasons why people get excited about northern governance is the sense that there is an opportunity to (re)design governance models that have the cultural-political power to break the heavy burdens of colonization.

One does not use a word such as colonization lightly. It elicits notions of slavery, subjugation, and oppression. And yet, this is exactly the frame within which many Aboriginal people in the north – and indeed in the rest of Canada – have come to understand their experience in North America over recent centuries.

This conference was not intended to inspire anti-colonial activism. The Aboriginal rights revolution that began in the 1960s, and was captured in speeches made during the Berger Inquiry and in arguments made during land claim negotiations, carried the anti-colonial message with strength.

Even in a post land-claims environment, the notion of colonialism does not disappear entirely.

Indeed, a theme pervasive at this conference was decolonization.

In many ways, decolonization is more difficult to achieve than rights recognition. The fight for indigenous rights in Canada sacrificed the health and lives of many activists, and one should not underestimate these struggles and achievements, and the struggle for decolonization can be just as traumatic but harder to see.

Decolonization does not come with a signing ceremony and new infrastructure. It comes after long periods of reflection and continuous attention to one’s way of knowing.

Decolonization is a movement of the mind.

Many people at this conference were advocating for notions of decolonization to be adequately reflected in governance-focused research and policy making. Already there are some distinguished examples of success.

The creation of the Carcross/Tagish First Nation’s Family Act is an excellent example. The Carcross/Tagish recently acted upon the option to establish their own legislation to govern family matters. They did not wish to simply act quickly in order to gain jurisdiction and adopt mirror legislation. Instead they engaged in a thoughtful process of thinking through the cultural-political philosophy that would underpin the Act. The result is a revolution in law. It is a piece of legislation nearly 150 pages in length, brief in its use of western legal text, and long in its reflection upon Carcross/Tagish values and stories about how families should conduct themselves.

An undertaking of this magnitude requires more than legislative drafting – no easy feat in itself – but also considerable research and consultation to rediscover Carcross/Tagish ways of knowing and acting.

Another example comes from the Northwest Territories. This time from the Tlicho, who secured self-government in 2005. A team of researchers from Tlicho communities spoke of their tireless efforts to engage youth in their communities in a dialogue about safe sexual practices. Sexual activity is a personal and sometimes taboo subject in many communities in Canada and thus not an easy policy area to work in.

The Community Action Research Team, a part of the Tlicho Community Services Agency represented at this conference by Cody Mantla, Leona Lafferty, and Anita Daniels, all of whom are young Tlicho, undertook extensive survey work, employing sound statistical methodology, to find out what young people needed; they then asked young people what they wanted. They also engaged community elders in a conversation about the risks faced by youth. They found strong support from the elders. The result has been a multifaceted program that uses social media, outreach, and dialogue to reduce risks of sexually transmitted infections.

Land claim and self-government agreements are slowly being completed. More hard work will follow.

Figuring out how to devise governance arrangements backed by rights and informed by decolonized mind sets will be personally and politically challenging. The research being undertaken by northerners today inspires hope that policy will again matter to the people of the north, because it will be our policy.