During my twenty-five years as an archaeologist, historic preservationist, and tribal liaison in the National Park Service (NPS), I’ve engaged in many different kinds of public archaeology. Collaborative archaeology or anthropology and archaeological education are two forms of particular interest to me. I’ve also striven to do ethnographic work with Indigenous communities that benefit their interests and attempts to heal past wounds through collaboration and sharing. I am still working to develop an understanding of the kinds of archaeological education and interpretation that most impacts the public and can change perspectives on the cultural heritage resources we preserve in the National Park system and on aspects of our nation’s history often left out of school curriculum. All of these endeavors fit under the umbrella of public archaeology in the twenty-first century, which in the broadest sense is archaeology that considers, involves, or engages the public.Public archaeology in the United States developed out of preservation efforts and movements of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, many of which blossomed with the establishment of the National Park Service in 1916.1 At first public archaeology was focused primarily on preservation and on education or interpretation of archaeological sites and historic structures. Some of the earliest NPS units were Native American sites and Spanish Colonial missions that provoked a sense of wonder for a distant romantic past. Public involvement was largely limited, but during the Great Depression, through the Works Projects Administration, many citizens with little direct experience with archaeological sites or historic buildings were exposed to archaeology and historic preservation as a science and an educational endeavor. Around this time public archaeology became associated with scientific research, driven by preservation and stabilization efforts, but funded by or for the public largely through federal or state funding. Today, professionals employed through federal and state funding are commonly referred to as cultural or heritage resource managers.2The field of archaeology received an injection of ethics from the Civil Rights Movement in the 1950s and 1960s and new environmental laws in the 1960s and 1970s.3 By the 1980s, descendant groups were increasingly part of archaeological and community research. The involvement of Native Americans in collaborative archaeology and heritage resource management on their ancestral lands has increased exponentially since the passing of the Native American Graves and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) in 1990, which accelerated consultation and engagement efforts.4 In the 1980s archaeologists began to work more with other historically subjugated groups, especially African Americans. Initially, these projects focused mostly on African American burial grounds and plantation sites.5Today many different forms of public archaeology are recognized, often aligned with applied archaeology and anthropology, cultural or heritage resources management, and museum studies programs at universities. Within the practice there are many specialties, some focused on resources management, education and interpretation/outreach, ethics, community collaboration, and community empowerment, to name a few. There is also a growing part of public archaeology concerned with public perception and existing archaeology education, since the present knowledge base often drives responses and engagement to the archaeological education provided at sites and museums.The essays in this special issue of the The Public Historian come from a call for public archaeology topics focused on collaboration, with a particular emphasis on lessons learned. There are many challenges to doing meaningful and collaborative public archaeology. In my experience, difficulties that arise when working with Indigenous communities often relate to structural problems and past injustices, current or past legal cases or politics, the organization of national and tribal governments, and funding cycles. Cultivating interest and benefit requires up front work establishing trust, building relationships, and creating an environment conducive to sharing and collaboration. The authors of this special issue grapple with these same challenges and inspire me to continue the good work. They make a strong case for interdisciplinary approaches, and especially for public archaeologists and public historians working together and with descendent communities and the publics to develop whole truth histories that benefit more than academics.However, these scholars don’t shy away from owning up to shortcomings in striving to do more inclusive archaeology. Reflexivity requires being open minded about what we take for granted and seeking to understand the assumptions inherent in our ideologies or perspectives.6 The reflective nature of many of the articles offers opportunities for learning.The geographic spread of the articles provides a snapshot of the public and historical archaeology being carried out throughout North America. The topics mirror broad patterns in the history of North America from prehistoric to modern times. They seem to reveal the impacts or lingering effects of historical processes that have shaped society and the cultural geography of the respective regions. The breadth of topics and approaches in the articles show how far public archaeology has evolved in addressing the intersection between academic or scholarly focused research and public involvement or engagement in archaeology. Further, the authors are working towards a few of the major tenets of public archaeology today: helping to heal historical injustices, making subordinate groups visible, and correcting inaccuracies through collaboration, engagement, interpretation and education.The essays provide varying examples of how archaeology and history are part of the fabric of our culture and society, and how they contribute to public discourse concerning past, present, and future social and economic problems. However, the great variety of approaches and topics of the articles also reflect a central dilemma in the field.7 What exactly is public archaeology? Can it be defined in a clear way so that practitioners, students, and the public have a common language? It’s clear that public archaeology can involve many different forms of engagement and outcomes depending on the research focus and cultural contexts. All archaeology takes place within socio-economic, cultural, political, organizational, and educational structures and contexts, presenting researchers with intersecting webs of application. Is there only one way to do public archaeology? Does it have to be defined with strict and clear boundaries?Perhaps the greatest strength of public archaeology today is its breadth, as exemplified by the essays in this special issue. Some of them may not fit nicely into a narrow definition of public archaeology. They are examples and case studies of the ways archaeologists and historians are interacting with the public(s) and with descendent communities, and of how public archaeology is being practiced and perceived in North America. Some may see the breadth or blurred lines as a weakness of this special issue. I see the diversity as its strength, providing examples on how to do good archaeology and anthropology that speaks to more than just other academics.The articles are aligned with public archaeologist Gabriel Moshenka’s definition of public archaeology “as part of the discipline [of archaeology] concerned with studying and critiquing the process of production and consumption of archaeological commodities” and “where archaeology meets the world.”8 This means that applied anthropology, museum studies, and other interpretations of archaeological data that consider and involve both the general public and descendent communities are as important as public involvement in excavation, if not more so.9 Archaeology and the products or intellectual commodities created are often used for larger “purposes of education, community cohesion, entertainment, and economic development.”10In reality a narrow definition of public archaeology may not be possible due to the many products that can result from archaeological and historical research in the public realm. The present state of the field is so diverse that many terms are used to describe archaeology projects that involve the public in one way or another. All of the articles presented here have a few things in common that squarely place them within Moshenka’s definition of public archaeology. They all either work directly with or for the public and they consider how the production and consumption of archaeological commodities or information can be used to address problems or gaps in knowledge that once filled have the potential to more positively benefit communities and heritage resources. A common thread is the involvement, consideration, or concern with the public and collaboration with descendent communities or groups that have connections to heritage resources or places where the authors are working.According to archaeologist and museum director Nick Merriman, public archaeology “studies the processes and outcomes whereby the discipline of archaeology becomes part of the wider public culture, where contention and dissonance are inevitable. In being about ethics and identity, therefore, public archaeology is inevitably about negotiation and conflict over meaning.”11 Or more broadly the field addresses “problems which arise when archaeology moves into the real world of economic conflicts and political struggle.”12 The authors in this issue also address these aspects of public archaeology. Some differentiate between the larger general public and descendent communities that have more direct connections to archaeological or heritage resources, places, and the historical events.Several of the articles are focused on social and economic inequalities and healing wounds of the past associated with labor and class, slavery, the effects of segregation, colonialism, and histories of displacement and migration. They also attempt to illuminate problems and biases within archaeology and in the public perception of local or national archaeology and history. These projects provide avenues for healing and reconciliation through archaeology, history, and education. The authors demonstrate how the field of archaeology has moved beyond its antiquarian beginnings and is developing into a means to better understand our past to build a better future.Collaboration and community engagement are cornerstones of public archaeology, and many of the articles focus on working with communities to increase education and knowledge, awareness and activism, and cultural heritage protection.13 The authors touch on a similar question in varying degrees: How can archaeologists practice effective collaborative public archaeology or engagement? Anthropologists Chip Colwell and T. J. Ferguson recognize collaboration as a continuum that ranges “from merely communicating research to descendant communities to a genuine synergy where the contributions of community members and scholars create a positive result that could not be achieved without joining efforts.”14 Many of the projects featured seek the synergy mentioned by Colwell and Ferguson by involving related communities throughout the entire process, from the formulation of research designs to excavation, data analysis, and the interpretation and display of information. Establishing effective partnerships takes time and resources that are sometimes not available, but are needed to reach this worthy goal.Community collaboration or research is still working through some methodological challenges.15 A recurring problem surrounds identifying descendant communities and defining communities in general.16 The mere process of definition hinders both the plurality of voices and the identification of cross-cutting relationships between groups that may define themselves in ways that differ from scholars. This continues to be a problem that some of the authors address.The importance of collaboration with descendant communities in particular was powerfully demonstrated by the African Burial Ground project in New York City. Community involvement is now considered obligatory when working with the archaeology of the African American diaspora.17 However, the concept of descendant communities has sometimes broadened to include groups that may not be direct genetic descendants but are either the groups closest to direct descendants that can be found or are culturally connected through a common cause. This broad application is sometimes contested, especially when repatriation of human remains and reparations are involved.18 Both the broad and more traditional definition of descendent communities are applied in this issue’s articles.As archaeologist Jennifer Birch points out in the first article, collaborative archaeology is good public archaeology. The author focuses on two major issues in historical archaeology that continue to challenge researchers: 1) use of European documents to interpret Indigenous history in the contact period archaeology of sixteenth and seventeenth-century North America and 2) developing archaeological histories through collaboration that combines several lines of evidence including Indigenous knowledge and archaeological science. Birch attempts to combat colonial biases by re-emplotting the archaeological record of the Huron-Wendat in the lower Great Lakes region. For instance, using Bayesian theory (named for eighteenth-century English statistician Thomas Bayes), and chronological modeling to interpret radiocarbon dates results in a new understanding of Indigenous conflict and cooperation that differs from the dominant narrative that put too much emphasis on the influence of European goods and actions.The long held colonially biased conclusions concerning the effects of European trade networks often present Indigenous groups as passive respondents to European goods and influences. Through collaboration with the Huron-Wendat Nation, Birch helps reframe the native history of the region around the time of European contact by presenting Indigenous groups as active shapers of history, rather than mere responders to European actions. The Huron-Wendat Nation helped develop archaeological research questions and interpretations, and the author shows how collaborative archaeology and interpretation can correct the imbalance between archaeologists or academics and the “others” we study. Importantly, Birch sought synergy with her Huron-Wendat collaborators by asking what historical topics or information they are most interested in. The result is a re-orientation of common archaeological problems in the region, and a movement away from overreliance on artifact typology and chronology as a driver of Indigenous history. This is really about humanizing archaeology. Archaeologists use objects to understand the human past but sometimes forget the human part.In the second article, archaeologist Kristin Larkin discusses work at the Ludlow Massacre site in Colorado. The Ludlow Massacre was part of strike-related violence against coal miners and their families during the Colorado Coalfield War of 1913 to 1914.19 Larkin provides an example of collaboration and engagement in all phases of archaeological research and shows how assumptions of authority in archaeologists can undermine engagement and democratic decision-making in collaboration, especially when developing interpretations and narratives around the archaeological past. The essay reveals how difficult it can be to challenge concepts of authority so that archaeologists and the public or related communities can play an equal and empowered role in the interpretation of a significant local event that represents larger national labor struggles cross-cutting social identity or ethnicity. The labor movements of the early twentieth century reflect a nation adjusting to economic, demographic, and social changes coming out of the industrial revolution of the 1800s. However, the article is ultimately concerned with how to do collaborative public archaeology. Larkin makes the strong point that it often takes time and relationship building to work through the structures that limit meaningful collaborative projects. These road blocks are not often factored into funding cycles and budgets and are some of the reasons collaboration sometimes falls short. One of the most significant and archaeologically shocking finds presented is the discovery of the outline of a commemorative cross embossed into the earth at the cellar where eleven children and two women suffocated during the massacre (see our cover image).The article by archaeologist Terry Brock, public historian Katherine Crawford-Lackey, archaeologist Mathew Reeves, and curator Mark Furlong Minkoff about their work at James Madison’s Montpelier in Virginia is ripped from the headlines concerning the recent conflicts between the descendant community and the trust managing this important historic site. This interdisciplinary work offers a case study on how public history and archaeology can be complementary in the development of an effective public archaeology program that makes archaeology and history work for the disenfranchised and historically subjugated. Centering the experience of enslavement at Montpelier as a focus of archaeology and interpretation at the site results in a more complete story and helps answer a fundamental question many African Americans ask when visiting historic sites: “Where are my people?”The authors highlight how the institution uses principles from an important document published by the National Trust for Historic Preservation called Engaging Descendant Communities in the Interpretation of Slavery at Museums and Historic Sites, known as the Rubric, which was developed during the National Summit on Teaching Slavery in 2018 to guide archaeological research and interpretation.20 By seeking an honest interpretation of slavery at plantation sites and working towards breaking the conceptual frameworks of racism, the authors show how archaeology can shape discourse around our difficult pasts and confront hurtful thought patterns. In light of dwindling focus on the full range of history in classrooms the authors show how telling “whole truth history” at historic sites serves a vital role in society. Similar to Birch’s article, this essay shows how archaeology can be central to this goal. The authors’ work is impressive in the scope and range of public archaeology approaches.Archaeologists Cameron Gokee and Alice Walker along with public historian Kristen Deathridge take us to Junaluska, a historically Black community in the southern Appalachian town of Boone, North Carolina. The authors’ work demonstrates how public archaeology and community engagement are vital strategies for working with those disenfranchised by traditional models of research. By documenting the history of the Black community in Boone and identifying heritage resources that may be associated with it, the project helps give voices to silenced or forgotten narratives in an area that has seen rapid demographic change and development. The visible structures of the Black community, its buildings and cemeteries, have been removed from the landscape, leaving mostly stories and archival records as evidence.This long-term project started in the 1980s, and community involvement began with the crafting of project goals and continued through the remote sensing and some of the archaeological testing phases, providing an excellent case study in long term engagement. The result makes visible part of the historic community that was largely lost to ongoing development. The article successfully shows the power of archaeologists/universities, public historians, community members, and nonprofit organizations working together to increase awareness and preserve both archaeological and historical information before it is lost forever.Public historian Lauren O’Brien presents another example of the fight to preserve the archaeology and history of African Americans, this time in the more urban cityscape of Newark, New Jersey. Centered on the fight to preserve the Trinity Church Cemetery, possibly the last remnants of the enslaved African American community in Newark, the author shows how public engagement can be used to increase awareness, even if the results did not result in direct preservation of the cemetery. O’Brien also presents an interesting problem in the archaeology of Black burial grounds: how much of a cemetery needs to have African American burials to be considered an African American burial ground worthy of preservation? It is clear the answer depends on the social or historical context of the particular place and its development, but especially on how existing communities perceive the place. The author makes the important point that Black matters are largely spatial matters. Racism is evident in real estate development, “urban renewal” and planning or zoning in many cities, and the direct effects are often erasure of historically significant locations that once served as community anchors.21As in the article by Gokee and colleagues, O’Brien shows us that increased awareness and activism can help keep memories and histories alive. Archaeology and historical research are vital weapons in the fight to repopulate places with history that is no longer visible due to colonialism, structural racism, and the effects of slavery. As a small gesture towards honoring known African American individuals buried at the Trinity Church Cemetery who no longer have markers, their names are listed in the Appendix following O'Brien's article.Museum studies, exhibit design, and interpretative content in museum contexts have long been crucial aspects of archaeology. Today, consultation and collaboration is a vital part of museum studies and content development. Museums and interpretive displays are the commodities or products of research the public interacts with most, and as such they shape thought. Involvement often varies from working with the public and traditionally associated or descendant communities to determine the focus and content of museum displays, to the use of questionnaires to develop a better understanding of the demography of the public and of knowledge gaps and interests.The articles by museum director Regina Faden and archaeologist Travis Parno and by archaeologists and curators Ana Opishinski and Jade Luiz involve the public in various ways. Both articles are concerned with broadening the focus of museums and interpretive programs originally established with a colonial bias that often leaves out Indigenous groups and precontact archaeology. One problem both projects face is in the identification of who the consultation “community” is and what individuals are chosen to represent them. Who can speak for an entire community or group of people? Both articles provide a reflective analysis of the consultation and collaborative process that will help others planning similar projects.Parno and Faden provide a case study of a collaborative process working with stakeholders of various ethnic or cultural backgrounds to diversify the focus of new exhibits and develop a broader and more inclusive story of Historic St. Mary’s City, Maryland. The site has largely been interpreted from colonial perspectives, and the Indigenous history of the area was underemphasized. A team of community leaders including African American and Indigenous individuals identified several interpretive topics of interest, but also questioned museum designs and displays in an open and reflective manner. The community participants called for more complete story telling that does not shy away from conflict and also portrays Indigenous lifeways without perpetuating stereotypes. The discussion of the consultation and project development process highlights many of the issues faced in collaborative museum planning, especially when working with a diverse committee. The authors admit there’s more work to do. The open-minded discussion is an example of the reflexive nature of modern public archaeology.Similar to the work described in the Pardo and Faden article, Opishinski and Luiz’s work at the Plimoth Patuxet Museum in Massachusetts shows how recent archaeological finds can create excitement and an impetus for broadening interpretation beyond colonial history. Plimoth Patuxet is well known for its living history programs that largely focus on contact-era and colonial histories. Recent archaeological research has expanded knowledge of the Indigenous history of the site, providing another layer to the story. The article provides an example of how public questionnaires can be used to gain a better understanding of existing gaps in knowledge and gauge the success of changes to a colonially focused museum. They describe the digitization of archaeological collections and creation of online exhibitions and demonstrate how these products can be used to interact with the public and increase education about Indigenous groups both before and after European contact. The consultation process for the development of museum displays was negatively impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic, but the authors provide examples of public archaeology outreach and content development that seeks to present a multi-vocal and inclusive history.The last article, by archaeologist Roseann Bacha-Garza, geologist Juan Gonzalez, historian Christopher Miller, and archaeologist Russell K. Skowronek is an example of how public education and outreach results in broader understanding of archaeological problems and how active preservation and can help fill gaps in regional history. Within an understudied region of southwest Texas, the authors bring heritage education to the schools, and work with the public to identify archaeological sites. These efforts lead to new discoveries and increased awareness for cultural heritage protection. They illustrate the spatial reach that can be attained when working with large segments of the public to identify and protect cultural heritage and promote education within a specific geographic area. This type of interdisciplinary outreach is innovative, and their model can be applied in many contexts.Public or applied archaeology needs critical reflection or case studies of practice to continue to move forward.22 The reflective analyses and lessons learned in all of the articles should help archaeologists and historians working with the public. All of the articles use public engagement and archaeology to highlight stories or histories that are underrepresented or have been excluded for various reasons. The ultimate test of whether these projects are successful is if they move us closer to whole truth history. I think the answer is emphatically—YES!Knowing and working with individuals from descendent communities has shaped my outlook on archaeology and collaboration. However, I still face the same challenges and frustrations inherent in all collaborative efforts, many of which are discussed by the authors in this issue. Whenever my faith in the collaborative process is tested, I think back to a childhood experience that shapes my perspective on heritage resources and archaeology. When I was nine years old, on a flight to New Mexico from my hometown of Detroit, Michigan, I had the good fortune to meet Drew Lewis from Acoma Pueblo. He was the son of a famous potter, Lucy Lewis, and an excellent potter himself. I was instantly enamored with his silver and turquoise jewelry. Over a short period of time we became friends and Drew invited me to the pueblo where his ancestors have lived for almost a thousand years. He shared his home and his family’s red chili. Over several years we visited many special Ancestral Pueblo places, where he graciously taught me about his people’s perspective on the land and its connections to his community. This experience is one of my touchstones for collaborating with descendant and traditionally associated communities. Collaboration is one way to avoid perpetuating colonial ideologies and interpretations that sometimes limit the breadth of past human experience and beauty inherent in heritage resources. This is one reason the collaborative ethos shown in these articles is so important. The lessons learned will hopefully assist others trying to change the world through public and collaborative archaeology. The deep connections we see today between the past and present show that archaeology and heritage preservation is about more than buildings, objects, and hypotheses. As these articles demonstrate, they are all about people and community.