Over the last few weeks, I have spent a lot of time travelling across the Northwest Territories, the North and the country. Along the way, I found myself standing beneath endless skies, photographing bison along northern highways, crossing the Deh Cho Bridge, and eventually lying in front of the 60th Parallel sign welcoming people into the Northwest Territories.
As I looked through the images later, I realized they all shared a common theme. Space. Not just physical space, but space for possibility.
For many of us, the North is often defined by what it lacks. Fewer people. Fewer facilities. Greater distances. Yet one of the reasons I enjoy the North is because I see something different. I see opportunity. I see possibility. I see communities where young people can still shape the future. I see places where relationships matter more than titles. I see room to experiment, create, and build something that may never have existed before.
The North has taught me that possibility often begins where certainty ends. Physical Literacy fits naturally into this way of thinking. At its core, Physical Literacy is about more than sport. It is about developing the motivation, confidence, physical competence, knowledge, and understanding to value and take responsibility for engagement in physical activity throughout life.
When I look around the Northwest Territories, I see physical literacy everywhere. I see it in a child learning to ride a bicycle for the first time. I see it in youth paddling on the Mackenzie River. I see it in Elders sharing stories while participating in a walk for suicide prevention. I see it in a basketball game in Whatì. I see it in a soccer tournament in Hay River. I see it in a Table Tennis practice in Fort Smith. I see it in the countless volunteers, coaches, teachers, recreation leaders, and family members who create opportunities for movement every single day.
Physical literacy is not something we add to our communities. It already exists within them. Our role is to create opportunities for it to flourish.
The North offers something unique in this regard. We are surrounded by some of the most incredible environments in the world. Rivers, forests, tundra, lakes, trails, ice roads, and open skies provide endless opportunities for movement, exploration, and connection. These landscapes invite curiosity. They encourage adventure. They remind us that movement is not simply exercise. It is how we experience the world around us.
And let’s be honest, where else can you enjoy frozen nose hair in the winter, watch the Northern Lights dance across the sky at night, and still call it a perfectly normal day?
Over the last few weeks, I have been reminded that Physical Literacy is ultimately about possibility. The possibility that a young person discovers confidence through sport. The possibility that a community comes together through recreation. The possibility that someone who never considered themselves active finds joy in movement. The possibility that a simple bike ride, a walk on the land, or a game with friends becomes the beginning of a lifelong journey.
When I think about the future of Physical Literacy in the Northwest Territories, I am excited not because of what we already have, but because of what is still possible.
There is still room to grow. Still room to connect. Still room to create opportunities. Still room to inspire. And perhaps that is what I enjoy most about the North.
No matter where you stand, whether it is on a community trail, beside the Mackenzie River, beneath the Northern Lights, or under a welcome sign at the 60th Parallel, there is always space for one more possibility.