CITIZENS RALLY AGAINST DRUG DEALERS

Whoever is in support of getting these guys the hell out of our town
please join me in applause," screamed 20-year-old Danika McKenna.

On cue about 175 people who gathered Saturday at Rotary Peace Park on
Saturday to stand with McKenna and other young people against drugs
and violence erupted into applause.

"There are people standing among you who are going to report who has
said what," added McKenna, as a group of mostly adults looked on.

"We need to keep our eyes on each other. And if everyone wants to keep
their eyes on me, that would be great."

And then about 175 pairs of eyes started darting around nervously: The
paranoia was palpable.

It illustrated a role-reversal taking place in Whitehorse.

The violence seen at the July 15th Dustball Dance -- which has been
pinned on drug dealers -- has many worried about drugs and hostility
on city streets.

But while youth are standing up to dealers, many adults are falling
prey to paranoia, haphazardly looking for identifiable groups -- like
bikers -- to take the blame.

The truth is, few know exactly who is causing the problem.

What is indisputable is that drugs are far too available on Whitehorse
streets nowadays, said McKenna.

"Anyone could walk into a bar at night, ask a couple of people (for
drugs), and I'm sure they'd be directed to them," she said after the
rally.

"Crack is the big problem."

Drugs are secondary to the brutal violence a new crew of drug dealers
and enforcers is bringing to Whitehorse, said Jordan Blake, a former
bouncer at Kopper King dance bar and Capital Hotel.

Blake has broken up many a fight sparked by the dealers, he said.

"As soon as you cross them, you get seven or eight of them standing in
front of you," he said after the rally.

"If you even look at them the wrong way, you will get the crap beaten
out of you.

"There's no one-on-one stuff -- it's eight on one," he said. "They'll
even bring weapons. They like baseball bats."

The dealers are not part of organized crime but do operate as a
cohesive unit, said Blake.

They are between 19 and 35, and most are from British Columbia, he
said.

"Some of them are from here in town."

The group is not involved in softer drugs like pot, magic mushrooms or
hashish because "we already have more than enough local pot dealers,"
said Blake.

"But if you want E, coke, crack, heroin, (crystal) meth, any of the
hardcore chemicals, they will hook you up."

Crossing them seems to be a dangerous proposition.

A man in his early 20s sat off to the side at Saturday's rally. He has
experienced the violence the new crew of drug pushers is dealing, he
said.

Recently, his friends left his place to drive home. "Then we saw this
car pull up and a bunch of guys got out and they had baseball bats,"
said the man, who asked not to be identified.

"We were like, 'What the f* is going on!?'

"We ran outside. All of a sudden this guy hit me on the head with a
baseball bat. They hit me in the head then jumped in their car to drive away.

"Then we threw a rock through their window.

"They got out and bear-sprayed us, and f*ing broke a bat over my
brother's head."

There were four men in the car, and none of them were from Whitehorse,
said the man.

"My friends were just walking to their car," he said.

Blake, who was among a group of about 60 young people who confronted
an alleged drug dealer at the Capital Hotel two weeks ago, told the
crowd that violence from drugs has gotten out of control, and little
was being done.

"We decided that it's about time somebody did something," he said.

"We have all this support behind us now, but we did that without the
support," he said.

The group of youths that stood up to drug dealers did something
leaders and politicians have simply talked about for years.

And the fact was not lost on some speakers at the rally.

"We really respect that a group of youth got together and had a chat
with a drug dealer," said Downtown Residents Association president
John Pattimore at the rally.

"When's the last time any of us adults did that? I sure haven't. That
took guts."

Pattimore offered to meet with youth activists to come up with future
actions to curb the scourge of drugs and violence.

"Lots of us have been saying these things for years. It has taken the
youth to come forward for us to be standing here today, together,"
said Kevin Barr, executive director of the Committee on Abuse In
Residential School society.

"We cannot let our youth down. We need to get behind them. It doesn't
mean paying lip service, talking and talking and talking and coming up
with plans.

"The youth didn't do that. They came up with action," he said.

Though action was the buzzword at Saturday's rally a large group of
politicians was at the ready to offer their praise for the group.

"Drugs are starting to take over about a lot of people in the
territory," said Yukon Justice minister John Edzerza.

"It takes a whole community to make this a safe place to live. No drug
dealer is going to like the attention that they're getting today, and
that's good."

Drugs are a non-partisan issue in the Yukon legislature, said Liberal
leader Arthur Mitchell.

"It's important that we don't politicize this, but rather work
together to fight what has become a serious problem in our community,"
said Mitchell.

The RCMP is working on the problem, but have a high standard of
evidence needed to prosecute dealers, he said. By coming forward with
evidence, people can help, said Mitchell.

"You're not ratting somebody out when you do that, but rather, you're
standing up for your neighbours and your children," he said.

While NDP leader Todd Hardy is away from the territory, he was
instrumental in creating the Safer Communities and Neighbourhoods Act,
which passed earlier this year.

Mount Lorne MLA Steve Cardiff addressed the rally by reading a letter
from Hardy.

The difference between words and action featured for former Council of
Yukon First Nations grand chief Ed Schultz.

"God bless this young lady here," said Schultz, pointing proudly at
McKenna.

Schultz admired McKenna's courage in the face of visible coercion, he
said.

"I saw their little caravan drive through here," he said, pointing at
the parking lot at Rotary Park.

"No amount of intimidation, no amount of threats, should divert us.

"I'm with you. For every one of them there are 10,000 of us."

Still, a mild paranoia seemed to sweep through the rally as McKenna
and Blake relayed the brutal realities of Whitehorse's streets.

A group of motorcycle riders arrived early at rally, and many gave
them suspicious glances.

"They see a big Harley and they immediately think, 'dope'," said
Rodger Thorlakson, a member of Whitehorse's Harley Owners Group, who
has worked helping people with alcohol addictions for many years.

Like Thorlakson, Barr also arrived on a Harley.

Despite the risks of reprisals after Saturday's rally, McKenna feels
the risk is outweighed by the benefits of getting Whitehorse behind
youth activists.

"I don't know if anyone else would do it," she said.

"I had the opportunity and I took the risk because it's worth it to
me; I feel passionately enough that I'm willing to risk myself for my
community."