All of us here in Newfoundland and Labrador need to push our provincial leaders to kick their bad habit of leaving the fishery to the feds.
Government’s only vision is to either increase corporate concentration (foreign ownership or otherwise) or see more plant closures, divestment, and decline.
We need to make it clear that the status quo isn’t enough. It is time for things in this province to change. It is time to put our victims first.
My hands tremble as I write these words, this foul admission of my greatest professional shame—and yet, I am filled with an incredible lightness.
Mutual aid work filled me with a hope I didn’t know I needed. I needed a way back to a sense of community I had lost in the months spent in isolation.
Fishing can still be an important part of our lives. Preserving the cod and traditional fishing approaches requires reverence for this big fish.
Earlier this year, “A Home for Nature” was released for public comment. Feedback for phase one of the plan is open until October 1, 2020.
If Andrew Furey wants to sell himself as a political leader who can make tough decisions in these difficult times, then his appointment of Charles Bown to head a crown corporation may have just made that task more difficult. According to Justice Richard LeBlanc, Commissioner of the Inquiry Respecting the Muskrat Fall Project, Charles Bown was the Province’s “point person” as the megaproject transitioned from the drawing board to financial debacle. In his report, “A Misguided Project,” Justice Leblanc concluded that while there is “no doubt GNL politicians must be faulted for failing to provide a reasonable level of oversight of Nalcor” he singled out Mr. Bown, then-Deputy Minister of Natural Resources, calling his performance “inexcusable.” Premier Furey recently reorganized his cabinet, government departments, and the staffing of the senior levels of government departments and in his everything-is-on-the-table approach he would have weighed options for Mr. Bown’s future. The Leader…
Do we, as a society, accept that there are people in our province who work full time for wages that trap them in poverty?
As Health Minister John Haggie declared, “the world has changed.” His colleagues in the Liberal cabinet have not yet caught up with this news.
During COVID-19 one of the concrete ways we worked to take care of our own sex working community was to help SHOP create a Sex Worker Relief Fund.
The relative cleanliness of NL’s offshore oil is the key selling-point for the industry’s future in a low-carbon world. But does this argument hold up?
The House of Assembly has mismanaged the motion before it on whether to adopt the Tribunal recommendations in light of recent jurisprudence on the matter.
It’s easy for white people to deny that racism exists in Newfoundland & Labrador. Black people in this province can’t afford to think like that.
As we organize and educate, we must also stand with those who are putting their bodies on the line to struggle against colonialism and capitalism.
Covid-19 impacts will be lasting. It will transform labour markets. How that happens is absolutely up to us.
Journalism is fundamental to keeping our society and democratic way of life alive as it too faces unprecedented stresses from the pandemic.
Opposition parties and independents can float forming a coalition government as much as they want. The precedent is clear that it would not happen.
Well, there it was. The big announcement. The big rate mitigation plan. The rescue plan to save us all from Muskrat Falls, the hydro megaproject that was sold as the province’s future and instead has morphed into the self-destruct button. Ever since they were elected, it seems, the Liberals have been announcing plans to save us from Muskrat Falls. Or more properly speaking, they’ve been announcing plans to come up with plans to save us from Muskrat Falls. Or rather, plans to make plans to come up with plans to save us from Muskrat Falls. Well, you get the idea. Even if you don’t get the plan. (But it’s the Progressive Conservatives’ fault, of course! Have they mentioned that yet?) But this was supposed to be it—the big one. The one we’ve all been waiting for. And what did it turn out to be? You guessed it. They’ve welcomed the…
The whole city glistened, alabaster white and silent except for the cheerful calls of people greeting each other as they snowshoed and skied around the neighbourhood, and the louder shouts of younger more daring citizens snowboarding down Holloway Street on what Drew Brown called “the island’s sickest ski jump.”1 For three days our neighbourhoods turned back into communities, people had time for each other and, well, a lot of people had a lot of fun. And then the cars were allowed back on the roads. Obviously, people had to get food and medical supplies and they had to get back to work. The nurses who did forty-hour shifts and the hotel workers who stayed on for days to look after people from out of town had to get home. Not every neighbourhood has a food store in walking distance and not everybody can walk even if theirs does. But that…