Museums

by Arnulfo Barraga

According to the publicly accessible dictionary, Merriam-Webster, the term museum is defined as: “an institution devoted to the procurement, care, study, and display of objects of lasting interest or value” (Merriam-Webster, n.d., paras. 1). The words “devoted, procurement and care” stand out. Why are museums the ones who “care” for these objects, why are they allowed to do so? The word museum being associated with devotion implies that no one else can “care” for these objects as much as these institutions. Thinking about the word “procurement”, what if these objects that are now under the ownership of museums accessed illegally, what if they were stolen? Are human remains considered “objects of lasting interest or value?” Who gets to decide the answer to these questions? These concerns must be addressed toward colonial institutions such as museums.

Archeologists Francis P. McManamon and Robin Skeates (2017), note that in the U.S., ‘“When considering only human remains reported as Native American,” the total number is approximately 152,000 set of individual remains. These remains are reported from over 1,000 museums that receive federal funding and public agency offices”’ (p. 269). Why are museums in the possession of thousands of people who have passed away? To get an idea of how these remains made it to museums, “Archaeologists and museum collectors looted Native American remains from ancient homes, graves and places of worship” (Jaffe et. al, 2023, paras. 1). To make matters worse and, as a reminder, museums are the ones who “care” for the “objects” in their collections, right? Many museums cannot trace where the human remains in their collection came from or did not even have records that the remains existed in their inventories (Colwell, 2017, p. 202). The most significant and dangerous aspect of museums is their power to influence public knowledge. For example, ‘“museum visitors trust exhibitions as a reliable source of truth and their expectation is that the information presented by them is accurate and, ultimately, ‘true’” (Tonner, 2016, p. 172). The fact that museums own human remains and cultural objects through human genocide, robbery, exploitation, and have the authority to provide one singular perspective about skeletal remains and fragments that are not even reported in their inventories, which the public will accept as “truth”, is nothing less than the practice of cultural genocide.

However, there have been some measures implemented to hold museums accountable and return culturally-affiliated items as well as consulting with Native American communities on how to handle the human remains. In 1990, NAGPRA, or the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, was given the nod by President George H.W. Bush (Nash & Colwell, 2020, p. 226). This law “directly confronted the colonial histories of museums and the ethical blinders of archaeology” and “established a process that brought Native peoples and scientists and curators together, often for the first time…”. In about 30 years, “the legislation has facilitated the return of about 67,000 ancestral human remains, 1.9 million funerary objects, and 15,000 sacred and communally owned objects”. NAGPRA requires museums to keep up to date inventories of their items, work directly with Native American communities that claim to have a cultural affiliation with the objects or human remains, and “induced, if not forced, colonialist institutions, particularly those with long collecting histories, to (re)consider their role in the development of archaeology, anthropology, and even civil society if their collections contained Native Americans but (comparatively) few other human remains” (Nash & Colwell, 2020, p. 226).

Nevertheless, NAGPRA has many limitations. For example, only federally-recognized Native American communities are protected in their claims for certain items under NAGPRA (Nash & Colwell, 2020, p. 226). McManamon and Skeates (2017) explain that over the course of various steps, these communities must “prove” that they are culturally affiliated to the human remains or the objects in question. Cultural affiliation is defined as a “relationship of shared group identity which can be reasonably traced historically or prehistorically between a present-day Indian tribe or Native Hawaiian organization and an identifiable earlier group” (p. 273). This is ironic as these museums cannot even trace the origins of the objects or human remains in their own collection. Essentially, museums still have the upper hand. Native Americans must adhere to the language and terminology that museums use and this is often frustrating and impossible to deal with. For example, anthropologist Chip Colwell details the interactions between museums and Native communities claiming certain objects and human remains. Colwell notes the experiences of Chief Gordon Yellowman dealing with the Denver Museums of Nature & Science:

Yellowman became nearly paralyzed as he faced not just the Denver Museum's lists, but hundreds of lists from hundreds of museums. He felt the emotional weight of the task, but also the sheer difficulty of deciphering the language of museums; it was as if he had been tasked with translating Egyptian hieroglyphs. "I read the law, over and over again, and it just seemed to me that I didn't know where to begin," he tells me, lighting another cigarette. "I didn't know how to address it." He started visiting museums for consultations and slowly started to learn the language of anthropology. "I had to learn how to read records, accessions, catalog information, catalog numbers," Yellowman remembers. "I had to learn parts of the body: femur, mandible— to understand what they were actually talking about." (Colwell, 2017, p. 112).

After many Native American communities are presented with indecipherable terms from museum inventories, they still have to “perform” their culture to administrators who have the final say on whether repatriation occurs. Again, the Denver Museum is involved:

Regularly, tribal members had to come to Denver to plead their case, to reconnect with objects before the curatorial staff, to shed tears over their heritage, and to beg for the return of what they believed was already rightly theirs. The success or failure of a claim depended on how convincingly tribal members could translate their culture—how they could articulate their authentic sense of loss and real need for these objects to be home—to museum administrators. The answer to a claim depended on how well claimants could perform during the museum consultation. (Colwell, 2017, p. 176).

Reading this, makes anyone speechless.

It has not been explicitly stated but the process of repatriation is emotionally taxing and reopens wounds. Poet and scholar Billy-Ray Belcourt states, “Negative affect isn’t always bad for us, and if we incorporate them into our social theories of protest we might more honestly render the contours of being in a body that has inherited the racialised violence of being left to sit in the air like an unanswered question.” (Belcourt, 2017, p. 183). Are the negative emotions associated with the repatriation process necessary in order to heal? Poet Crisosto Apache, who is Mescalero Apache, Chiricahua Apache, and Diné (Navajo), writes in his poem titled “Death”:

it is prohibited to whisper the names of the dead,

as it encourages them to linger at the doorstep,

and she has already lingered, far too long

            (Apache, 2018, paras. 2).

Through repatriation, Native American communities must deal with the reminder of the atrocities they have faced and continue to face. Will they ever heal?

Closely attached to Native communities is sovereignty. Mississauga Nishnaabeg writer and scholar, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, writes, “If sovereignty from indigenous perspectives includes our bodies, then it also includes our minds and our knowledge system” (Simpson, 2015, p. 21). Essentially, Native American communities have the right to their own knowledge as part of their sovereignty. When thinking about museums, these institutions both strip physical bodies and knowledge away from Native American communities when human remains are part of collections that only provide a colonial perspective for museum visitors. To sum up these statements in better terms, museums, “relegat[e/d Native Americans] to the status of ethnographic objects who could be theorized about but who could not theorize on their own behalf. Self- determination entails not only tribal self-governance but intellectual self- determination.” (Raheja, Michelle, et al., 2015, pp. 4-5). As part of their sovereignty, Native American communities must be part of the knowledge produced about their peoples which must be by their peoples.

The MET Museum has somewhat recognized Native American communities’ right to intellectual sovereignty. For example, in an article titled, “Native Perspectives”, the museum includes the voices of Native American scholars, activists, historians, community members, etc. on pieces created by U.S. artists about either Native American bodies or landscapes related to their communities. In the MET website, each respective artwork’s description contains a link presenting a Native American perspective. One section in this article deals with an artwork about the Hudson River in New York, made by U.S. artist, John Frederick Kensett.

John Frederick Kensett (American, 1816–1872). Hudson River Scene, 1857. Oil on canvas, 32 x 48 in. (81.3 x 121.9 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. The jpg is labeled: Essay Image-Hudson River Painting

The Native American perspective on this piece is by Stockbridge-Munsee Mohican poet, Bonney Hartley. She writes:

To me, every bend in the Muhheacanituck (Hudson River) is a beloved view. It is a fertile, life-giving place where Mohican ancestors cultivated bountiful harvests and enjoyed tranquil canoe journeys downriver to exchange news, game, and other gifts with their Munsee kin. It is a sacred landscape from which our surviving community continues to derive pride and meaning. It is our namesake, the Muhheacanituck, the waters that are never still. It is home. The fort's presence is a reminder of the colonists' need to defend lands that were not their home. Today that tension is still present even if the forts are not. Every day we confront this truth as we work to protect burial places and other sacred sites. The theft is still unresolved. (The MET, 2021, paras. 6-7).

Thus, providing Native American perspectives on matters that relate to these communities acknowledges their right to sovereignty but also benefits the public too. Museum visitors would no longer be limited to a colonialist view, as they also can view critiques and unique perspectives on the same pieces and objects. Did reading Bonney Hartley’s point of view change what you thought of when you first saw this artwork? Did you know this information about the Hudson River? How can colleges and universities such as Dartmouth employ various perspectives to their curriculum? 

Specifically at our college, the Hood Museum also has encounters with its colonial past and present. The museum, under NAGPRA, must be transparent and accountable about their inventory. For example, the museum’s website states, “New information has uncovered skeletal human remains used as teaching aids in anthropology classes, which were long believed to be non-Native, are in fact Native American in origin. Faculty and students unknowingly handled these ancestral remains in classes as recently as fall 2022” (HOOD, 2024, paras. 6). Did you know or hear about this? Does this change your view on the museum?

The website then explains that, “President Philip J. Hanlon has offered an apology to the entire community, especially our Indigenous students, faculty, staff, and alumni.” (HOOD, 2024, paras. 7). The Hood Museum makes sure that they will work with Native American communities during this matter as well as other issues that relate to the communities. We see how sovereignty is respected when these communities have the final say on whether their items are displayed or not. For example, the website states, “These new regulations require tribal consultation and approval from affiliated tribal nations before an institution can display funerary objects, objects of cultural patrimony and sacred objects—collectively called "cultural items" in the new regulations” (HOOD, 2024, paras. 10).  In terms of a continued relationship with Native communities, the museum states, “At this time, we are reaching out to Tribal Historic Preservation Officers (THPOs) and other appointed tribal representatives, speaking with colleagues, and continuing to do research relating to the provenance of the Native American collections” (HOOD, 2024, paras. 11). If certain laws such as whether to display a sacred object are entirely up to those of that affiliated Native American community, then why should museums even be in the equation? Is there value in keeping the object in the museum, is this beneficial toward those Native American communities? Is something that is yours not better in your own hands?

 During your time at a colonial institution such as Dartmouth, you must question everything, offer your own perspectives, never accept one way of teaching a topic, and always be critical. To create change at Dartmouth, we must hold the institution accountable for its continued colonial practices and constantly critique it resulting in a new, ongoing incorporation of various perspectives including those of Native American communities into our curriculum and messaging.

References

Belcourt, B.-R., (2017). Indigenous Studies Beside Itself. Somatechnics, 7(2), 182-184. https://www.euppublishing.com/doi/full/10.3366/soma.2017.0216?role=tab

Colwell, C. (John S. (2017). Plundered skulls and stolen spirits: inside the fight to reclaim native America’s culture. The University of Chicago Press.

Crisosto, A. (2018). Death. Retrieved November 22, 2023, from https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/146697/death-5af07ffbea7c4 Hood Museum (n.d.). NAGPRA. HOOD. Retrieved November 25, 2023, from https://hoodmuseum.dartmouth.edu/explore/collection/policies-image-requests/nagpra

Jaffe, L., Hudetz, M., Ngu, A., P., & Brewer, G. L. (2023, January 11). America’s Biggest Museums Fail to Return Native American Human Remains. Retrieved November 22, 2023, from https://www.propublica.org/article/repatriation-nagpra-museums-human-remains

McManamon, F. P., & Skeates, R. (2017). Policy and practice in the treatment of archaeological human remains in North American museums and public agency collections. In Museums and Archaeology (1st ed., pp. 269–284). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003341888-28

Merriam-Webster. (n.d.). Museum. In Merriam-Webster.com dictionary. Retrieved November 8, 2024, from https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/museum

Nash, S. E., Colwell, C., Brenneis, D., & Strier, K. (2020). NAGPRA at 30: The Effects of Repatriation. Annual Review of Anthropology, 49(1), 225–239. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-anthro-010220-075435

Simpson, L.B., Teves, S. N., Smith, A., & Raheja M.H. (2015). The Place Where We All Live and Work Together: A Gendered Analysis of “Sovereignty.” In Native Studies Keywords (pp. 18-24). University of Arizona Press. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctt183gxzb.5

Teves, S. N., Smith, A., & Raheja M.H. (2015). Sovereignty. In Native Studies Keywords (pp. 3-17). University of Arizona Press. https://muse-jhu-edu.dartmouth.idm.oclc.org/pub/208/edited_volume/chapter/1518383/pdf

THE MET (2024). Native Perspectives. The Met. Retrieved November 8, 2024, from https://www.metmuseum.org/about-the-met/collection-areas/the-american-wing/native-perspectives

Tonner, P. (2016). Museums, Ethics and Truth: Why Museums’ Collecting Policies Must Face up to the Problem of Testimony. Royal Institute of Philosophy Supplement, 79, 159–177. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1358246116000126