April Raintree
April Raintree
Writing the story of the Raintree family was an act of love for my family. Surprising for me, perhaps, because if I thought about it at all, I thought that the bond with my parents and siblings was long gone. My sister Vivian committed suicide when she was in her early 20s. . . . Sixteen years later, . . I got a call. . . . My brother-in-law told me that my sister had died — that she had committed suicide. . . .
After I heard of Kathy’s suicide, questions flooded my mind. Why did my sisters commit suicide? Why did we have to grow up in foster homes? Why did my parents become alcoholics? Why did we have to face so much racism? Why was I raped? If I wanted to try to find answers to these questions, I decided I would have to write a book.
With no connections to my Aboriginal community, I had a lot of research to do and much to absorb. Somehow, I tapped into memories that did not come from my life, but brought a true understanding of what we had been through as a people. Somewhere, during the writing, I realized I had been ashamed of being part-Indian. I also realized that it’s possible to use the tragedies in our lives to achieve positive actions. And the ending to my first novel became the beginning of my reclaimed identity. I am Metis! (From the “Preface”.)
First published in 1984 by Pemmican Press, April Raintree has been reissued by Highwater Press. This reissued edition features changes to spelling, punctuation, formatting, and style, along with simple but dramatic new cover art: superimposed on a matte black background is a single feather, outlined in dark red, featuring the image of two women in silhouette. As well, the “Foreword” is written by Senator Murray Sinclair, the former Chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, and following the text of the story are responses by Canadian authors Margaret Laurence and Maria Campbell, as well student readers and their teachers. April Raintree has been a frequent choice for study in high school Language Arts/English classes, as well as in Canadian Literature and teacher education classes at universities.
Although I was certain that I must have read the book at some point, as I read, I realized that the storyline of the book was completely unfamiliar, and so I came to the story with the eyes and perspective of a first-time reader. For the benefit of those who haven’t read April Raintree (or In Search of April Raintree), following is a synopsis (not a short one, either), and – “spoiler alert”– I will reveal the ending. Not only is the story a fictionalized account of many of Moisonier’s life events, but also of the lives of many Indigenous people who were taken from their families, lost their sense of place, and whose lives became an emotional wasteland. At 242 pages, the book is short, but powerful and deep in experience.
The story of April and her younger sister, Cheryl, begins in May of 1973. April reflects: “I always felt most of my memories were better left untouched, but now I think it’s best to go back in my life before I go forward. Last month, April 18th, I celebrated my twenty-fourth birthday. That’s still young, but I feel so old.” (p. 1) The girls were born in Norway House, a small town in northern Manitoba, but after a few years, the family moves to Winnipeg where they live in a succession of rentals in the poverty-stricken area of that city’s North End. Both parents become alcoholics, and their inability to parent the girls leads to April and Cheryl’s being removed from them and placed in foster families. The two sisters are close in age and closer in heart, and the separation from their parents and each other is devastating.
Cheryl is sent to live with the MacAdam family in Winnipeg while April moves to a small French-Catholic town, just south of Winnipeg, and lives with the Dions. They are kindly people, and life with them is infinitely more comfortable than it was with her parents. While she takes some time adjusting, over time, April becomes a part of the family, does well in school, and life looks promising. Both girls have occasional visits with their biological parents, and when April “actually saw [her] parents and Cheryl, it was a constant high. As soon as a social worker came to tell either Cheryl or [her] it was time to go, [she] turned instantly despondent, and [she] would stay that way for maybe a week or more.” (pp. 27-28) Despite their parents’ inability to stop drinking and to take care of their daughters, April and Cheryl continue to love them.
However, Mrs. Dion dies of cancer, and April is moved again. She is placed with the DeRosier family, an experience made truly hellish by Mrs. DeRosier’s outright cruelty. April’s life is one of deprivation: her bedroom is small, cold, and sparsely furnished, her chores around the house and farm are endless, she is fed less food than the DeRosier children, and is frequently and undeservedly strapped as punishment. The DeRosier children are equally mean, delighting in verbally abusing April and her family, constantly referring to her as “that half-breed”.
Meanwhile, Cheryl is thriving with the MacAdams. Mrs. MacAdams is Métis, proud of her heritage, and she encourages Cheryl to learn more about her Indigenous roots. During the first family visit since placement with the DeRosiers, April and Cheryl’s parents fail to attend; after that, the DeRosiers kids are merciless, mocking April “about having drunkards for parents”, “mimicking drunken people and talking to each other with slurred speech”. (p. 44) After this incident, April disavows her parents and her Indigenous heritage. Of the two sisters, she is fair-skinned, like her mother’s Irish ancestors, and can “pass” for a white person, unlike Cheryl, who is black-haired, brown-eyed, and brown skinned. April decides that as an adult, she will no longer carry the burden of being judged, shamed and stereotyped, and once free of the DeRosiers, she will live “just like a real white person.” (p. 46)
How is it possible to live like a white person if your sister looks Métis and is proud of it? It’s a conflict with which April struggles for the better part of her late adolescence and young adult life. Through the intervention of her teachers, April finally escapes the DeRosier home and the torment at school. In a writing assignment on “What I Want for Christmas”, she details the ill-treatment she has endured, concluding her composition with the sentence, “What I want for Christmas is for someone to listen to me and to believe in me.” (p. 82) April’s English teacher shows the story to the school’s guidance counsellor, and a newly-assigned social worker, Mr. Wendell, investigates the case. Realizing that Mrs. DeRosier lied shamelessly about the circumstances of April’s life with her family, Mr. Wendell has her removed from the DeRosiers. In the interim, April stays with Cheryl’s new foster family, the Steindalls, before becoming a boarder at St. Bernadette’s Academy in Winnipeg. April actually enjoys life at the Academy, learns that not all nuns are like the martinets at the orphanage in which she and Cheryl stayed before their first foster placement, and she makes friends with the other boarders. But she lives a lie, telling her schoolmates that the reason for her being a ward of Children’s Aid is because she was orphaned by her parents’ death in a plane crash. She is certain that, if they knew the truth about her Indigenous roots, they would shun her.
At the end of her Grade 11 year, April seizes an opportunity to take a summer job as a waitress, boarding at a house in central downtown Winnipeg. For the first time, she meets others who, like her, are still under the protection the Children’s Aid, as well as “Native people from northern communities.” (p. 95) It’s the 1960’s, and she hangs out at a coffee shop with her contemporaries, and on weekends they head for a trendy dance club, one just off Winnipeg’s Portage Avenue. At the age of 17, April’s fascinated by her peers, both white and Indigenous, who are sharp dressers, great dancers, self-confident, and somewhat sophisticated. But, she’s not so naïve as to condone or excuse bad behaviour: shoplifting, under-age drinking (at that time, 21 was the age of majority), and casual sex. Caught up in the excitement of this new life, she puts off writing to Cheryl until the very end of the summer. Cheryl’s response indicates that she is annoyed at April’s failure to keep in touch. In her reply, along with reminders about the importance of their staying close, Cheryl includes an essay she has written about Louis Riel at Batoche. April admits that the essay “was quite extraordinary for someone of her age, but it had no big effect on [her]. Riel and Dumont: they were men of the past.” (p. 97) For April, what counts is her future.
Cheryl and April finally get together for a visit at Christmas. April chooses to take a secretarial course, and her sister is disappointed at April’s lack of ambition. For her part, Cheryl plans to become a social worker and work with Indigenous people. After graduation, April quickly finds employment with a law firm and is thrilled at the wages she earns. In her exit interview with Mr. Wendell, she surprises herself by asking about her parents. Surprisingly, Mr. Wendell gives her a list of names and addresses of those who might know them. Free from Children’s Aid, April is now independent. But, weekends and evenings are spent on a depressing and futile search for her parents’ whereabouts. She visits people who disgust her and places which revolt her. As a result, April abandons the search, believing that her only option is to move forward and avoid the inevitable pain that would result from a reunion with her parents.
Meanwhile, Cheryl has finished high school, graduating at the top of her class, and winning a scholarship to attend the University of Winnipeg located in downtown Winnipeg. She moves in with April, and once at the university, Cheryl quickly acquires a wide circle of friends, including a white boyfriend. But, the relationship ends when it’s obvious that he’s ashamed of her. Up to this point in the story, April’s romantic life has been less-than-exciting. She has definite ideas about the type of man with whom she wants to spend her life, and one day, Bob Radcliff walks into her workplace. With his mother, he runs a wholesale furniture business in Toronto, but he has plans to expand to Winnipeg. It’s a whirlwind courtship, and they marry within three months. Cheryl has serious misgivings about the match, believing that Radcliff’s friends or family will eventually scorn April. “And what will they think when they find out he’s married a half-breed? If he had to choose, do you really believe he’d stick with you?” (p. 113) The Radcliffs move to Toronto, and while waiting to board the plane, April admits to her sister that she “can’t accept being a Métis. . . one of the have-nots. [She] wants what white society can give [her]. (114)
Cheryl is a smart and incisive woman, and her predictions about the marriage come true. April Radcliff lives a life of upper-middle class comfort: a large and beautifully-furnished house, a social life filled with events and dinner parties, and endless shopping. But, Bob’s mother disapproves of her son’s bride, and after a New Year’s party in which the guests are dismissive and patronizing of Cheryl, April’s fairy-tale life starts to lose some of its charm. Cheryl is thoroughly contemptuous not only of the superficiality of April’s current existence, but also of her denial of her Indigenous self. In a heated discussion about their past, April reveals her unsuccessful attempts to find their parents. Cheryl has also been on the same mission, and April gives her sister the papers containing lists of names and addresses she has searched. Vowing that she’ll find their parents, Cheryl returns to Winnipeg. In the following year, Bob’s having an affair with a former girlfriend leads to the end of April’s marriage. After receiving a substantial settlement from her ex-husband, April moves out on her own and decides to go back to temporary secretarial work, just to have something to do. But, a phone call from Winnipeg’s Health Sciences Centre sends April on a plane back to Winnipeg. Cheryl has been admitted to the hospital, unconscious, suffering from hypothermia and a possible concussion. Highly intoxicated when she was found, it appears that Cheryl passed out in the sub-arctic cold of Winnipeg in January. Bruises indicate that she might have been beaten.
At Cheryl’s bedside, April learns that her sister has quit her university studies, is jobless, and has been living in an abusive relationship, one which Cheryl has decided to end. April suggests that Cheryl stay at her hotel and offers to retrieve her clothes and belongings. When April goes to the slum dwelling where Cheryl and her partner live, she is grabbed by three men, forced into a car, and driven beyond the outskirts of the city where she is serially raped. Thrown from the car after the assault, she makes her way to a farm house where she finds shelter. The RCMP who come to investigate are surprisingly supportive, believe her account of the assault, drive her back to the same hospital where Cheryl is a patient and then question Cheryl to see if there’s a possible motive for the crime which occurred outside Cheryl’s home.
The next day, April is visited by two police officers and Cheryl, who states “Oh, April, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault you came here in the first place. I’m sorry.” (p. 155) Because April had managed to see the plate number of her attackers’ car, the driver is found and charged. Rather amazingly, a month and half later, one of the rapists is shot by police during a bank robbery attempt, and, at the end of March, the third is apprehended and charged. Although April continues to deal with trauma of the attack, she and Cheryl get on with life. With the proceeds of her divorce settlement, they buy a house and a car, and they attend a powwow in Roseau River, MN. As April watches the dancers and listens to stories, for the first time in her life, she experiences “stirrings of pride, regret, and even an inner peace. . . I felt as if all of that was part of me, as if I was a part of it. I had gone expecting to feel embarrassment, maybe even contempt”. (p. 176) April sees Cheryl’s pride in her own identity, and back in Winnipeg, it seemed that Cheryl’s desire to work to support her people had returned.
Prior to the powwow, while cleaning their house, April had made a troubling discovery: an empty whisky bottle in Cheryl’s room. Nancy, a woman Cheryl had befriended through work at the Friendship Centre, has a serious drinking problem, and April starts to wonder about her sister’s alcohol use. Months later, at the October trial of one of her assailants, April is questioned as to how Cheryl earned her living at the time of the attack. April states that she doesn’t know, but the following day, she learns an ugly truth: Cheryl has been working as a prostitute, and when April went to the house to retrieve her belongings, one of the attackers assumed that she was Cheryl and that the sex would be consensual. After that disclosure, Cheryl spirals into a cycle of disappearing for days at a time, always returning home drunk. One February night, Cheryl and April have a particularly malice-filled conversation during which the younger sister reveals a terrible truth. Cheryl found their parents: prostitution provided the money to keep their father supplied with alcohol and their mother committed suicide. Unable to bear the pain of losing her children, Alice Raintree jumped off a bridge into the Red River. After that revelation, Cheryl leaves the house, her whereabouts unknown. April and her new boyfriend, Roger, spend weeks searching the city for her, until one day, they receive a call from Cheryl’s friend, Nancy. Cheryl has been staying with her, but that day left the house, saying goodbye, “as if she wasn’t going to see [her] again.” (p. 219) In a sad replay of family history, Cheryl jumps from the railing of the same bridge as her mother did.
Following Cheryl’s funeral, April returns to their home and cleans her sister’s room. The first thing she finds is an empty whisky bottle. Enraged at the destructive power it represents, she vents her anger by smashing it into shards. Emotionally spent and cried-out, she remembers that Cheryl kept journals. The journal entries end in January, 1972, the month of April’s rape, but it’s the year 1970 that April wants because that’s when she lost touch with her sister. It’s painful reading, recounting Cheryl’s disillusionment with her failure to help her people, her life as a prostitute, the horrific discovery of the truth about their parents. The only positive note is in the birth of her son, Henri Liberty, whom she calls Henri Lee. Overwhelmed, April falls asleep on Cheryl’s bed, and when she awakens, she leaves for Nancy’s place, hoping to find Henri Lee there. On the way out, April sees a letter in the mailbox, recognizes Cheryl’s handwriting, tears it open, and reads her sister’s farewell note. At Nancy’s, April finds Henri, seeing a child whose smile is like Cheryl’s. In that moment, she accepts her identity as a Métis. The Métis are her and Cheryl’s people.
More than three decades have passed since the book’s first publication. It has become a school classic. As a teacher-librarian, I noticed that library copies always had that “really well-read” look and were frequently in need of replacement. The book often went MIA, a sure testament to student popularity, and the final page of this edition of the book contains student and adult responses attesting to its power to engage readers. A colleague who taught the book for many years agreed that students, especially female readers, thoroughly enjoyed it, because there was a great deal of dramatic incident. But in view of the current awareness brought about by the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, the book offers more than just the story of one young woman whose resilience allows her to survive against great odds, and of her younger, beautiful sister, who, despite great promise, is destroyed by alcoholism, poverty, and the abuse of her partner.
The Commission has made Canadians more aware of the psychological damage, emotional pain, and often physical and sexual abuse suffered by children whose families were broken by their removal to foster homes. The history, culture and “x” of Indigenous Canadians are part of school curricular content. April and Cheryl do not attend church-run residential schools, but the nuns who run the orphanage in which they are first placed do no credit to the Roman Catholic Church. Although baptized as a Catholic, April never feels comfortable with the Dion family’s spirituality, and the DeRosiers’ lack of charity and complete hypocrisy are a mockery of the spirit of Christianity. It is at the powwow that April connects with Indigenous culture and spirituality, a connection that Cheryl found long ago, even if was not enough to save her from the streets and the bottle. As in this book, social workers employed by government-run child and family services agencies often bear heavy caseloads and sometimes bring their own prejudices to their work, failing the children and families in their charge. In turn, children often took desperate measures to escape from residential school or their foster homes, as seen when April and Cheryl attempt to run away from one of their foster care placements. April’s horrific experience and post-rape trauma parallel the many cases of abduction and sexual assault which have come to light through the work of the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Aboriginal Women. Inter-generational family dysfunction, as a result of the destruction of traditional ways of life, the devaluing of ceremony and culture, systemic poverty, and substance abuse – all are part of April and Cheryl’s story.
Does April Raintree remain relevant to today’s readers, whether Indigenous or settler? I’d say, “Yes”.
A retired teacher-librarian, Joanne Peters lives in Winnipeg, Manitoba.