Local ire

When I read Yukon Retains Its Foreign Workers, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at first.

Dan Charlebois, owner of Canadian Tire, says without the Yukon Nominee program, “Customers would not be able to get the level of service that they’ve become accustomed to.”

This begs two questions: First, has Charlebois ever been a customer in his own store? Second, has there ever been a survey, or anything of the sort, asking customers how they felt about the so-called “service” they’ve been given?

I’ve certainly never been asked, and if I had, my response would be filled with multiple complaints and unquotable expletives.

First, if you ask for help, you can consider yourself quite lucky indeed if you happen to stumble across a worker who has even a remote understanding of the English language. Otherwise, any hopes you might have had for a smooth and Ð dare I say Ð enjoyable encounter quickly evaporate as your quest for help devolves into a frustrating game of charades.

Once I started pondering the issue a bit more, the aforementioned wave of euphoric laughter that had given me such joy suddenly turned to anger as various unanswered questions about the Yukon Nominee Program itself filled my head.

Why is it that a high school graduate, such as myself, can’t find a job in this town, but someone from another country Ð who doesn’t even have Canadian residency Ð can?

I’m educated, hardworking, a fast learner and have a veritable mastery of the English language, but I can’t get a job anywhere doing anything, and for one very simple reason Ð I’m not a Filipino.

I’ve been told by friends and family that this is a very shallow way to look at the situation, but it’s the only logical one I see.

I consider the Yukon Nominee Program a pox on the Yukon, a vile curse passed down from ancient times when Yukoners must have somehow angered the gods in some blasphemous way.

Why else would such a job-stealing, customer-service-denying affliction possibly exist?

Skyler Isaac

Whitehorse