For nearly a decade, there has been recognition of the need for an African American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (AAGPRA) or similar legislation. Experiences from implementing the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) have shed light on challenges that prevent practitioners from achieving the informed, respectful, and expeditious return of remains. Given the likelihood of federal legislation addressing the repatriation of persons of African descent and acknowledging the hurdles that practitioners may face if and when it is passed, we offer a practical model, START, to reorient our understanding of success to recognizing that incremental progress is still forward movement. The model is organized into five stages and is presented with context from NAGPRA, along with suggested steps that practitioners can take at each stage to help build on their success. The START model is a straightforward and practical checklist approach that helps practitioners recognize the victories achieved in small steps that could be hidden or prevented by misguided but well-intentioned attempts at perfection. It is directly applicable to preparation for repatriation but has utility for any curation or collections management context.

Indigenous communities globally are challenged by threats to heritage resources due to residual effects of colonization, outsider encroachment on traditional spaces, and economic and political inequities. The effects of climate change add another dimension to these challenges, not only by altering familiar ecosystems and landscapes but also through the destruction of Indigenous heritage spaces. The University of Maine's Northeast archaeology program supports Indigenous resilience to climate change through community-engaged approaches to archaeological research. Recent shell heap research at the Holmes Point West site in Machiasport, Maine, exemplifies these efforts by blending archaeological science with service through Passamaquoddy language preservation and community engagement. This article discusses the University of Maine's partnership with the Passamaquoddy Nation and reflects on the nexus of Indigenous archaeology, heritage protection, and climate change resilience.

In much of the Western world, collaborative research undertaken by settler archaeologists readily lends itself, at least in part, to a continuation of the colonial project. Yet, against this backdrop, Australia's First Nations’ peoples continue to work with researchers and to drive systemic change in research practice. Community-engaged archaeology, defined here as codeveloped studies of ancestral places (following Schaepe et al. 2017), is directed to improving relationships between Indigenous peoples and archaeologists. Even so, the practice of archaeology with and for nonsettler communities remains underdeveloped with regard to institutional priorities and funding agency bureaucracies. Here, we (Mirarr Traditional Owners, Mirarr employees, and settler archaeologist researchers) reflect on these issues as part of our ongoing research on the ochres and bim (rock art) of the well-known Madjedbebe rockshelter in the Alligator Rivers region, Northern Territory, Australia.

The Hacienda El Progreso functioned as an important Ecuadorian agro-industrial enterprise in the late nineteenth century. Operating out of San Cristóbal Island in the Galápagos archipelago, the plantation exported refined sugar, coffee, cattle products, and other goods to national and international markets. From its beginnings in the 1860s, the plantation established the first permanent human settlement on the island, and long after its demise in the 1930s, it continues to exert an important influence in local culture. Contemporary communities of San Cristóbal are shaping their identities based on the historical importance of the hacienda. The summer of 2018 was our last field season. From its start, the Historical Ecology of the Galápagos Islands project involved close participation with communal authorities and town leaders to investigate the island's human past. In this article, we discuss legacy and services of our project in the contemporary setting of Galápagos. We examine the relevance and contributions of our project to education, heritage policies, and the local economy. We discuss lessons learned from interactions and collaborations between archaeologists and the local community, and we evaluate the consequences of implementing an archaeological project on a remote environmental sanctuary where interest in human history can collide with the agendas of nature conservation and a lucrative ecotourism industry.

From 2016 to 2019, the University of Hawai‘i West O‘ahu conducted archaeological field schools at Honouliuli National Historic Site to teach our students basic archaeological skills. Because the site was the largest Japanese and Japanese American concentration camp on O‘ahu, the field school initiated a program related to social justice and democratic principles for the imprisonment of US citizens and legal residents based on racial and national profiling. The demography of O‘ahu created a special bond to the incarcerees’ stories and the students of Asian and Hawaiian descent. Through field trips, student discussion, and curriculum development, we focused on the pedagogical benefit of experiential learning. Field trips to the National Park Service's World War II Valor in the Pacific Park System on O‘ahu, King Kamehameha V Judiciary History Center, and the Japanese Cultural Center of Hawai‘i allowed the students to see and understand the historical context of the Japanese internment from the mid-nineteenth century, with the development of plantations and early colonialism, to the beginning of World War II and the internment of the more than 300 Japanese and Japanese American—as well as European and Okinawan—civilians and the imprisonment of over 4,000 prisoners of war.

Archaeologists have long been called on to use geophysical techniques to locate unmarked graves in both archaeological and forensic contexts. Although these techniques—primarily ground-penetrating radar (GPR)—have demonstrated efficacy in this application, there are fewer examples of studies driven by Indigenous community needs. In North America, the location of ancestors and burial grounds is a priority for most Indigenous communities. We argue that when these Indigenous voices are equitably included in research design, the practice of remote sensing changes and more meaningful collaborations ensue. Drawing on Indigenous archaeology and heart-centered practices, we argue that remote-sensing survey methodologies, and the subsequent narratives produced, need to change. These approaches change both researchers’ and Indigenous communities’ relationships to the work and allow for the inclusion of Indigenous Knowledge (IK) in interpretation. In this article, we discuss this underexplored research trajectory, explain how it relates to modern GPR surveys for unmarked graves, and present the results from a survey conducted at the request of the Chipewyan Prairie First Nation. Although local in nature, we discuss potential benefits and challenges of Indigenous remote sensing collaborations, and we engage larger conversations happening in Indigenous communities around the ways these methods can contribute to reconciliation and decolonization.

Overall healing, harmony, and balance within Ndee (Apache) communities can be understood through the Ndee term Gózhó—“beauty, balance, and harmony.” Beyond this Ndee cultural precept, however, how are such states of Gózhó achieved, whether in the past or today? Within archaeological research on Ndee lands, achieving healing and promoting health is crucial to overall individual and community well-being. Healing activities that contribute to overall states of Gózhó can take many forms. As Rybak and Decker-Fitts (2009:334) suggest, “Native American healing practices exemplify key cultural perspectives and influence the identity development of Native American individuals.” Such healing practices including the use of yellow cattail pollen (hádńdín; Typha spp.) for protection are based on traditions and perspectives typically outside the mainstream of Western psychological tenets, yet they can have significant impact on the sense of well-being for Ndee communities. Ndee cultural specialists with the White Mountain Apache Tribe demonstrate that such traditions and perspectives are not only necessary for continued community well-being but are powerful conduits amplifying the past as present, which contribute to the ongoing cyclical and reciprocal nature of the ways Ndee communities have related to Nígosdzán—Mother Earth—since time immemorial.

Mitigation of adverse impacts to archaeological resources within cultural resource management (CRM) is commonly achieved through a data recovery plan. Under this venue, the primary significance of a given site is its evaluation under NRHP Criterion D—its information potential. Rarely is consideration given to the emotional, psychological, and spiritual values descendant Native American communities attribute to these places in relation to their importance under other criteria. The associative relationships and integrity of traditional religious and cultural practices connected to sites are often overlooked because the identification of significance and values of archaeological sites is defined by Euro-American intellectual and value-laden frameworks. Even if one claims “scientific objectivity” as one's guiding principle, implementation of such practices without regard for Native American perspectives are clear violations of NHPA mandates. Balanced design of mitigation measures is seriously lacking from CRM practice, resulting in descendant communities being continually disenfranchised through the silencing of their voice in the management of their own heritage and inheritance. This article examines this issue from the perspective of the Pueblo of Zuni and how Zuni successfully worked with the Bureau of Reclamation to design a strategy for resolving adverse effects that is meaningful and beneficial to the Zuni.

Gorée Island is Senegal's first site on the UNESCO World Heritage List. It is associated with the infamous Atlantic slave trade, and over the past few decades, Gorée has become a prime destination for global tourism, particularly for the African diaspora from the New World but also for many Europeans and African nationals. Today, Gorée is a forum where different stakeholders battle over the role, place, and significance of the island in the Atlantic slave trade and its enduring legacies in the present. While Gorée owes much of its reputation to its heritage, including architecture, archaeology, and monuments, recent controversies over site preservation and policy compliance raised questions about heritage presentation and consumption. This article analyzes stakeholders’ attitudes toward archaeology and heritage to gain insights on how they are presented and consumed by different stakeholders and eventually destroyed by them as well. The discussion shows ambiguous attitudes toward site presentation and preservation, which might be linked either to stakeholders’ subjectivities or hypocrisy or to poor and uncoordinated communication strategies by heritage professionals.

Moving image archives—like many other archives—are considered a passive repository of knowledge extraction, rather than an active site of knowledge production. Following the premise that archives are indeed a source of knowledge production, this article explores how moving image archives have the potential to produce new and alternative knowledges by bringing to light factors that may have influenced archaeological practice, factors captured within a moving image archive but obscured or marginalized within linear accounts of this practice. While such an archive may exist unevenly, the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies (AIATSIS) has been historically positioned to develop a moving image archive that features a number of well-known archaeological investigations. Yet this archive and similar moving image archives remain overlooked and underutilized resources. In order to address this, emphasis is placed on producing detailed, searchable, and retrievable content description for moving image archives. In doing so, this article maintains that the knowledge and experience brought to the management of this archive following the author's transition “from archaeologist to archivist,” is key to promoting the discoverability and accessibility of this archive with potential clients in the archaeological, academic, and broader community.

Collaborative archaeology is a growing field within the discipline, albeit one that is rarely analyzed. Although collaborative approaches are varied and diverse, we argue that they can all share a single methodological framework. Moreover, we suggest that collaborative archaeology projects can be evaluated to determine the variety among projects and to identify the elements of engaged research. We provide two case studies emphasizing project evaluation: (1) inter-project evaluation of community-engagement in British Columbia archaeology and (2) intra-project evaluation of co-management archaeology projects in Western Australia. The two case studies highlight that project evaluation is possible and that a single framework can be applied to many different types of projects. Collaborative archaeology requires analysis and evaluation to determine what facilitates engagement to further the discipline and to create better connections between archaeologists and community members. The discussed case studies illustrate two shared methods for accomplishing this. The paper argues that collaborative approaches are necessary for advancing archaeological practice.

Since opening its doors in 1998, the Mashantucket Pequot Museum and Research Center (MPMRC) has had an identity as both a tribal center and a museum committed to challenging the public’s conventional understandings of Native history in New England. Over a 15-year period, museum staff and the tribal community learned to work more collaboratively in an effort to document and illuminate Pequot survivance—the histories of Mashantucket families living and working in and against the modern world. A review of recent museum projects clarifies the benefits of collaboration while revealing how new exhibits and programs are impacting visitor experiences and understandings. Another kind of museum space is envisioned in which visitors, staff, and tribal members actively co-create exhibits and programs centered on Pequot survivance, using content informed by ongoing archaeological studies. In that space, co-creation practices would encourage social interaction—a collaborative pushing-and-pulling of ideas and stories in a shared search for new understandings of survivance at Mashantucket and beyond.