Sugar Falls: A Residential School Story 10th Anniversary Edition

A young Indigenous girl, dressed in a drab dress and pinafore, stands in a pool of deep blue water¸ staring forward impassively, hands crossed on her chest. On her left is a rushing cascade, Sugar Falls. It is night. To her right stands a stretch of still water; looming behind it, in the distance, stands a two-story building, its roof surmounted by a cross-crowned cupola. It is a residential school run by the Roman Catholic Church. This scene is the front cover of David Alexander Robertson’s Sugar Falls, now released as a full-colour edition, honouring its 10th anniversary of publication. This graphic novel is a fictionalized account of the true story of Betty Ross, an elder from Manitoba’s Cross Lake First Nation and a survivor of the residential school system.

In the 10 years since the book’s first publication, much has happened. By 2011, the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was well underway, and, in 2015, the Commission published its findings and its 94 Calls to Action. David A. Robertson, a member of the Norway House Cree Nation, has gone on to win numerous literary awards, including the 2017 Governor General’s Literary Award. During those 10 years, more and more difficult truths emerged about the injustices and abuses experienced by Indigenous peoples, many of whom were the children or grandchildren of residential school survivors like Betty Ross.

Sugar Falls begins with a high school history assignment. A student named Dan must investigate the history of the residential school system, obtaining his information from a primary source: a residential school survivor. His friend April has a kokum (grandmother) who is open to recounting her experience, (even though she has never done so before, not even to her own granddaughter), and a meeting is set up. Although Kokum is a cool-looking professional, a consultant in the teaching of the Cree language, at home, she changes her clothing, and the three enter “the round room, with all the sacred medicines and within the star blanket of the four directions” (p. 4). Kokum’s traditional garb is brightly coloured – a protest against the boring and bland uniforms she wore at residential school – she holds an eagle feather as she speaks, and, before she begins to answer Dan’s questions, all three smudge in the smoke of sweetgrass. All of them have profound awareness of the importance of her narrative.

Abandoned at age five by her mother, Betsy is rescued by a trapper who takes her to his home, where she spends three years in the heart of a warm and loving family. But, when Betsy’s age eight, a priest arrives and takes her to the residential school where she and her fellow students follow a bleakly unvarying daily routine: rising at 6:00 in the morning; saying morning prayers; attending Mass before eating a meager breakfast; toiling at farm labour; and studying Latin under the ever-watchful gaze of Sister Marie, a very scary martinet nun who keeps classroom order via a rule of terror. Terror is unremitting; at night, the girls are sexually abused by the nameless priest who took them from their families and is in charge of the school. Despite physical, sexual, and emotional abuse, and deprivation of their right to speak their language, some of the students maintain strength of spirit. Betsy makes two unsuccessful escape attempts, and, when she fails at both, she remembers the words her father spoke to her at Sugar Falls: “The beat of the drum represents the strength in our relationships between our ancestors, our traditions with mother earth, and with each other. Knowing this will keep you strong.” (p. 13) She resolves to find that strength, and, although it’s not easy, Betsy holds onto her sense of self, her language, and her spirit.

Over the years, Kokum loses many of her friends, one of whom is Helen Betty Osborne. When Betty is murdered, Betsy honours her friend’s life by taking her name, keeping her memory alive. At the end of Sugar Falls, Kokum speaks a message of hope: “We need to look at the past to teach others our stories and then look forward, together, with knowledge and healing.” The 10th Anniversary Edition contains several messages of healing. The verso of the title page contains a “Content Warning” about the potential for triggering emotional trauma and provides the telephone number of the 24-Hour National Indian Residential Crisis Line. The book’s “Foreword” is written by Senator Murray Sinclair, the Chair of the TRC. In the “Foreword”, he offers a very personal, intimate account of the “conflict and pain in [his] family” and of the intense confusion created by not talking about why family members behaved as they did. As Chair of the TRC, he listened to hours and hours of Survivors’ stories, never dreaming that, one day, he would hear a story of sexual and physical abuse inflicted upon his father while at residential school. “Suddenly, everything clicked into place. This is the power of telling our stories.” In the book’s “Afterword”, Elder Betty Ross tells of her own struggle to work through the “trauma [she] experienced simply because [she] was a Cree girl, . . . doing things that should have been harmless.” Difficult though it was to find a way to tell the truth with authenticity, she found the way through her “own spiritual ceremonies, where [she] found solace and the strength to talk about [her] experiences.” The generosity of spirit shown in recounting these experiences has another dimension: a portion of the proceeds from the sale of Sugar Falls will go to supporting the bursary program for The Helen Betty Osborne Memorial Foundation

The original version of Sugar Falls was a powerful indictment of the residential school system and, in particular, the Roman Catholic Church’s shameful role in that system. Scott Henderson’s drawings are stark and powerful, and Donovan Yaciuk’s colourization gives the story even more intensity. The darkness of Betsy’s abandonment lifts when she is brought to the trapper’s home, a place that is warm and bright. But, when the priest comes to take her to the school, the warm colours change to the drab sepia tones of institutionalized life. However, at the end, when Kokum recounts her friendship with Helen Betty, the colour returns, and when Dan and April walk down the street after their time with Kokum, they are heading towards a golden sun, one “bright as a sacred fire.” (p. 40)

The narrative of Sugar Falls is straightforward, direct and accessible to high school readers of various reading abilities. The “Content Warning” at the beginning of the book pulls no punches, and the colourized frames offering depictions of corporal punishment and descriptions of sexual abuse are even more disturbing than in the original version. As well, this 10th Anniversary Edition has end flaps which serve as convenient bookmarks, and there’s an accompanying teacher’s guide at HighWater Press.

Sugar Falls can be used in a variety of senior high school instructional contexts: in language arts/English classes studying literature of the First Nations/Indigenous experience; as a supplemental text in social studies classes; and in First Nations/Indigenous studies courses. It’s publication is especially timely given the recent revelations of unmarked graves of children who were buried on the grounds of residential schools. Whether working within the public or Catholic school systems, potential purchasers should read the book carefully prior to acquisition, to consider possible challenges within the school community and to be prepared to write a rationale for the book’s inclusion in a school library or its use in a classroom setting. Senator Murray Sinclair stated that “Education got us into this mess, and education will get us out” (2015). For those Canadians who know little about the residential school system, Sugar Falls is a crucial text in their education about a truly shameful episode in the history of Canada.