Bannock and Sweet Tea
Bannock and Sweet Tea
The dough is soft and pliable
absorbing warmth from my hands
as I gently mold and shape it
it is my work but my pleasure too
anticipating the smiles of my children
knowing their tummies will be full and their hearts satisfied
The door opens, and they burst in
laughing, scolding and teasing
each wanting to tell me a bit
of what they have discovered
about the world, themselves or each other
I listen to each one as I serve
bannock and sweet tea . . . (p. 3)
Bannock and Sweet Tea is a collection of short narratives which chronicle the life of an Aboriginal family over the course of slightly more than fifty years. The first story in the collection, excerpted in the pull quote, is set in the autumn of 1957 when life is good. Gracie lives in a close-knit northern community with her husband John and their three young children, soon to be joined by a fourth. As the couple are out for an evening walk in the cool autumn air, “a plane flies low overhead and we look up in awe. . . . we wonder idly what it’s all about.” (p. 5) An airplane is an uncommon sight, and this one isn’t carrying a tourist looking for a fishing guide. When Gracie and John return to their home, the plane is airborne again, taking away their daughters, Mary and Jessie, to a residential school. Five years later, in the spring of 1962, another plane returns, bringing back three girls and four boys, “their hair cut short and [wearing] strange uniforms”, looking for their parents, “family trying to find family that has changed over time.” (p. 7) Gracie’s family has changed, too: John is in a tuberculosis sanatorium, and Jessie died at the school during the winter. Five more years pass, and Mary returns permanently from residential school. It’s a tough life for Gracie; her husband is dead, many of the community’s elders are now gone, and they manage to scrape by only because neighbours provide them with food, and, in return, Gracie is able to offer sewing and cooking. Mary is pregnant, and although she is terribly young, Gracie sees in her future grandchild, continuity and a bit of hope.
By 1972, Mary has a drinking problem as well as three children. “As they laugh and chatter/it is so much like the old days” (p. 15), and Gracie finds a sense of purpose in raising these kids, providing them with the love and security that their mother can’t. Although a local school has been established, Gracie’s younger son, John, is unwilling to attend; a formerly cheerful child, he has become “quiet and withdrawn” (p. 16). Tommy, the older son, helps out in hunting and fishing, providing food for the family, but he is consumed with a quiet, seething anger. One day, a plane arrives, this time bringing a woman from social services who apprehends Mary’s three children. The “Sixties Scoop” continued well through the 1970’s, and these children are victims of that policy.
Another five years pass, and, in 1977, Gracie is devastated at the suicide of her youngest son, John. Her grief is intensified by Tommy’s revelation that John was a victim of sexual abuse by the priest in charge of the local school. Gracie states that “Tommy is angry at me for not sending him away to the residential school.” When Mary reveals that Jessie was also abused, Gracie considers leaving her home and her community. She’s consumed with worry, sadness, and a sense of guilt that “maybe everything that’s happened really is my fault...” (p. 21), but, in the end, she chooses to stay. Mary moves south with her children and stops drinking; Tommy marries the mother of his children, and his family moves in with Gracie. Years of unresolved anger lead him to a conviction and a prison term, and after some time, Gracie, Julie, and her children all travel south to visit Tommy. Gracie is shocked at the physical changes that prison life has created: Tommy is thin, “his eyes are feverish; his skin pale”. Back at the hotel, Julie, Tommy’s wife, leaves to visit friends; although the oldest child is only eight, he has a room key, and Gracie decides to find “something to drink... something to ease the pain.” (p. 23) One drink leads to another and ends with her waking up “in the dead of night in bed with a stranger.” (24) When Gracie returns to her room, her daughter-in-law is furious at her for abandoning the children, leaving them open to being apprehended by social services.
In the penultimate story of the collection, Gracie has hit rock bottom. Twenty years have passed, it’s 2002, and she’s an alcoholic, living on the streets, and during winter, in homeless shelters. She’s been picked up by the police and has attempted sobriety a few times, but it never sticks. Tommy has died in a prison fight, and she never sees Mary. Salvation comes in the form of a woman who provides Gracie with food and asks her to join her at a church service which takes place in a park. After her children’s experiences of residential school and sexual abuse by clergy, religion holds little appeal for Gracie. But after weeks of listening and watching, on the last night of summer, she joins the church group, is prayed for, finds a sense of connection, and is welcomed.
The final story is set in 2011, by which time Gracie has found a friend named Tamara, and sobriety, although not without admitting to its being a daily struggle. Tamara is also a widow, but her children and grandchildren embrace Gracie as one of the family, reminding Gracie of her longing for her own children and grandchildren. Surprisingly, and most importantly, Tamara finds Mary, and the book ends with Gracie and Mary’s attending the university convocation of Mary’s oldest grandson. For Gracie, it is an event at which to marvel:
I see many others with faces the same color as mine
and I wonder at the changes that have taken place
the healing over time of some of us, it gives me hope
that in generations to come, there will once again be
children’s laughter, fresh bannock and sweet tea. (p. 30)
Bannock and Sweet Tea is the story of one Aboriginal family and of many Aboriginal families. It offers a highly readable experience of residential schools, the Sixties Scoop, the impact of family break-up, loss of culture, of substance abuse, homelessness and profound loss. Still, although the stories are often painful, Gracie’s narrative maintains a flickering spark of hope. The book is physically small, only 32 pages in length, and the font size is fairly large. However, it’s not a children’s book and is definitely aimed at an older reading audience, suitable for Grades 9 and up. Black and white photos add a sense of being almost a “family album”, although the author states that they “do not represent the characters in the book” and that many are stock photos.
Following a number of the stories is a portion of text providing a historical response, such as Prime Minister Harper’s 2008 apology to the Aboriginal people or the 2009 statement from the Vatican regarding the conduct of clergy in the Roman Catholic residential schools. At the end of the book is a series of “Discussion Questions” intended for use either in a classroom or by a reading group. One thing that I found a bit odd is that Gracie’s name appears only in the “Discussion Questions” and nowhere in the text of the stories.
Bannock and Sweet Tea is a short work, but, in covering half a century in the life of a family, it offers insight into the impact that residential schools and the Sixties Scoop had on Aboriginal families. A useful acquisition for a high school library or for classroom use.
Joanne Peters, a retired teacher-librarian lives in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Treaty 1 Territory and homeland of the Métis people.