This paper presents a replicable model for transforming archaeological field schools into Braided Science programs that center Indigenous self-determination, robust Tribal collaboration, and integrated Cultural Resource Management (CRM) training. Grounded in the Indigenous-led pedagogy of Two-Eyed Seeing, this curriculum intentionally weaves Western scientific methods with oral histories, land-based protocols, and reciprocal stewardship. At its core is epistemological fluency—the capacity to recognize, switch between, and integrate diverse ways of knowing. Building on this concept, we define heritage professional fluency as a framework that emerges from braided science and equips students to generate actionable knowledge through collaborative, decolonized research. While no single field school can impart every technical and community-engagement skill, we argue that building professional fluency provides an essential foundation upon which graduates can continue to develop. Traditional field schools that emphasize academic research leave graduates underprepared for careers dominated by the CRM sector and the imperative for collaborative, ethically informed practice, perpetuating colonial dynamics. Through the Washington State University (WSU) Field School in Indigenous Collaboration, First Foods, and Cultural Resource Management at Indian Creek—a collaborative field school held in 2023 on Kalispel Tribal lands—we demonstrate how we navigated three entrenched barriers: (1) conflicting institutional goals and data-ownership conventions; (2) financial and accessibility constraints that limit participation; and (3) disciplinary fragmentation separating academic, CRM, and Indigenous archaeology. By aligning research with Kalispel priorities—traditional foodways and landscape stewardship—our Tribal-academic-CRM partnership shows that meaningful collaboration is achievable but requires significant individual commitment and structural reform. We call for comprehensive change—addressing dwindling tenure-track positions, rising tuition and field-school fees, and persisting access inequities—to align archaeological training with the evolving realities of academia and public archaeology. This case study offers a practical framework built with braided knowledges for reimagining field schools as dynamic laboratories of ethical practice, rigorous skill-building, and community-driven research.

Indigenous archaeology and archaeology of Indigeneity are paramount in the contemporary world. We certainly need more of it across the archaeological scale and across the archaeological globe. Archaeology’s unhealthy attachment to colonialism, colonial administration and imperialism keeps on affecting our discipline on all levels. It is therefore encouraging to read Felix Acuto’s call for an engaged and activist Indigenous archaeology of Latin America. It is certainly needed, but depressing to learn about the recurrent atrocities against Indigenous peoples in Argentina.

Abstract In October 2022 at the annual board meeting of the Southeastern Archaeological Conference (SEAC), a new image policy for the journal Southeastern Archaeology was adopted that prohibited publication of photographs of funerary objects/belongings. In the discourse surrounding these new policies, a range of misunderstandings and mischaracterizations regarding consultative, collaborative, and community-based Indigenous archaeology were highlighted. Through a range of examples and personal experiences, this paper explores some of the realities of collaborative archaeological practice in the Indigenous American Southeast and aims to contextualize and mediate some recurring misunderstandings. Of particular importance and focus is the unique concept and definition of “the community” as it relates to collaborative practice across Indigenous North America. Importantly, I emphasize that southeastern archaeology and southeastern archaeologists are doing transformative work that puts us in a position to be leaders in the ongoing structural changes to our discipline.

Studies of human-animal interaction in zooarchaeology have historically emphasized a disjuncture between “wild” and “domestic.” This emphasis reflects an ingrained nature-culture dualism which has been increasingly critiqued by BIPOC scholars and archaeologists situated within posthumanist and object-oriented approaches. In this article, we bridge social zooarchaeology’s move away from Western ontology-epistemology with efforts in Indigenous archaeology to engage with the traditional knowledge and worldviews of Indigenous communities. Drawing on oral histories and personal narratives shared by Picuris Pueblo tribal members we develop a “gifting” approach to human-avian relationships grounded in the principles of care, reciprocity, and respect. We use this gifting framework to interpret avian faunal materials from the pueblo dating between 1300 and 1800 CE. These oral historical and material sources indicate that over time ancestral Picuris people co-created an intensive agricultural landscape through care-based interactions with plant and animal species, particularly turkeys.

Abstract This paper outlines the ritual Nyiehzakhuo kuthou [the hanging of Nyiaza’s basket] of the Pochury Nagas of Anyuwie. This ritual is an annual propitiation of ancestors (living-dead) with food offerings in lieu of fertility, harvest, health, prosperity and good fortune. The combination of the ritual’s carefully crafted paraphernalia and observed taboos highlight the deep connection the Pochury Nagas maintain with their ancestors. This study explores the challenges stemming from the delicate nature of organic heritage, to the degree that indigenous archaeology can preserve not just the ritual but the worldview it represents. The “curious” aspect here is how living-deads, who seem dormant, neglected or insignificant in a community’s history, intersect with the everyday lives of the people.

Past archaeological practices have resulted in a distorted history of Native American cultures based upon western-biased research. This has been especially apparent in the rock art of the Klamath Basin in southern Oregon and northern California. In response to this, Native and non-Native scholars are striving to develop a counter-discourse that both challenges and replaces western constructs in research on Native American communities. The result of this approach is a growing trend within the discipline that has come to be called “Indigenous Archaeology.” Critical to this approach is that Native voices are transported from the margins of the research to its center, where they are intended to replace the Western colonialist narrative. Unfortunately, Native American tribal communities have been the targets of federal assimilation policies for the past few centuries, and as a result, much of their cultural knowledge unwittingly carries forward this distorted past. In this paper I explore a framework built upon ethnographic accounts of shamanism and rock art, along with a robust familiarity with local myth, and how this provides a foundation of traditional cultural knowledge against which to compare and evaluate the interpretive statements made in contemporary tribal members about rock art and other sacred material culture.

While ethnography has held an essential place in the study of Indigenous rock imagery (i.e., petroglyphs and pictographs) in the United States for the past century and a half, rarely are Tribes and other descendant communities involved throughout the entire research program—from conception to publication. This contrasts with recent developments within more traditional “dirt” archaeology, where over the past 30 years, Tribes have assumed greater roles in decision-making, fieldwork, artifact curation, data management, interpretation of results, and repatriation of ancestral belongings. In concert with these changes, Indigenous archaeology has emerged as a domain of theory and practice wherein archaeological research and cultural heritage management center the voices and interests of Indigenous communities. Collaboration among researchers and Indigenous communities has proven to be an effective means of practicing Indigenous archaeology and advancing its goals, but research into rock imagery all too often still limits Indigenous engagement and knowledge to the interpretation of the imagery. This article highlights a case study in Tribal collaboration from the North American Southwest in the interest of advancing an Indigenous archaeology of rock imagery.

My first attempt at applying a perspective grounded in Indigenous archaeology to the study of cultural landscapes arose from my dissertation research in 2014 (Amundsen-Meyer 2014a). I attempted to braid Indigenous and Western knowledge (i.e., Wall Kimmerer 2013) to more fully understand the past, which I firmly believed was the way forward to decolonize the discipline of archaeology. Since 2019, I have had the privilege of working with, for and on the Siksika First Nation and of learning from many Elders and Knowledge Holders in the community. Reflecting on these experiences, I have begun to wonder if braiding knowledge may, in some cases, contribute to ongoing colonialism in archaeology. This paper will explore the concept of Indigenous archaeology and pose questions and put forward suggestions for future collaborative work as we come to terms with the longstanding colonial history of our discipline.

ABSTRACTIn recent years, Taiwan's Indigenous community has been actively demanding the repatriation and reburial of ancestral remains, seeking historical justice for colonial wrongs, asserting the community's rights to traditional territories, and pushing for recognition of their long‐standing existence and legal status as Indigenous peoples. In 2022, archeologists consulted and cooperated with the Siraya people, proposing “The Siraya Indigenous Archaeological Action Plan.” The aim is to re‐balance the power relations between archeologists and Indigenous peoples, seek a diversity of voices and methods, and put the social practice of archaeology at the trowel's edge into practice. The action plan was carried out within the Siraya Soulangh abandoned settlement, with the Siraya people joining the investigation and excavation work, physically touching important parts of their ancestral cultural heritage. Other efforts include reviving the traditional Siraya systems of the male age‐set organization and the national assembly, consolidating the ethnic identity of the contemporary Siraya people, and sustaining their societal and cultural systems. These endeavors have helped fill the huge historical gap left by colonizers, empowering the Siraya people to claim ownership over the abandoned settlement cultural heritage that has a direct cultural connection with their community, push for recognition of their long‐standing and continuous existence in Taiwan, and acquire legal status as Indigenous peoples.

I would like to start this reply by addressing the comments by Gabriela Chaparro and Jamir Tiatoshi. While their remarks mainly foreground their own research trajectories, I treat them as useful contexts for the questions at stake and as opportunities to clarify the scope and implications of my argument.

Abstract: This article examines the important role Indigenous archaeology plays in developing collaborative partnerships that practice the principles of consent, consensus, and collaboration in archaeological projects such as the Abiquiú Mesa Project (AMP) in Abiquiú, New Mexico. In the Society for American Archaeology's Principles of Archaeological Ethics, the phrase "informed consent" is not defined, and the word "consensus" is not found. As more projects like AMP collaborate with Native American communities, defining the concepts of consent, consensus, and collaboration is crucial when conducting collaborative projects that incorporate Native American voices and perspectives. In AMP, consent is achieved through communication, voluntary participation, and capacity. Consensus in AMP considers the local context and the distinct levels of agreement by all community partners. Last, collaboration serves to build capacity, develop reciprocity, and incorporate Native American community knowledge. Rethinking archaeology with these principles acknowledges historical narratives and knowledge-producing methods that include the voices of the people whose history we study while stepping toward decolonizing the practice of archaeology.

ABSTRACT This text speaks about important moments for the trajectory of my people, the Waiwai, who, along with various of our relatives, live in the Wayamu Territory. I narrate episodes that have significantly transformed these trajectories, for example contact with missionaries. Along with this, I discuss my discovery of archaeology and how it has allowed me to re-encounter important parts of our history. This re-encounter, or return, has led me reflect and speak on the necessity for an indigenous archaeology and about changing the narrative of the Amazonian past from what it has been.

This work is the result of research into pre-colonial Brazilian indigenous archaeology, from the Aguapeí and Peixe River Basin area, which aims to study and characterize the landscape and collection of chipped lithics from the Cuíca D'Água Archaeological Site, located in the municipality of Junqueirópolis, SP. The study was based on the concept of landscape and the operating chain. The Cuíca D'Água Archaeological Site is characterized by the presence of chipped lithics (chipped stone artifacts for scraping, cutting and drilling). We used the following bibliographical references: Ab'Saber (2003); Pallestrini and Morais (1982); Morais (1999; 2000 ;2007); Faccio (1992, 2016; 2019; 2020; 2023) and Willey (1953). This study allowed us to identify hypotheses of belonging to an indigenous group, as well as to assess the importance of studying archaeological sites in sugarcane plantations.

print) 2213-4379 (online) This is an open access article distributed under the terms of the cc by 4.0 license.

ABSTRACTIndigenous 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.

The tracing of genealogies tends to lack explanatory power when separated from neo-Darwinian accounts of reproductive or replicative success. However, Erny and Godsey explore the potential for explanation when such genealogies lead to exclusionary practices: in this case, gender discrimination. The numbers speak for themselves, and the persistence of such practices is remarkable. Close on 40 years since articles such as J. Gero’s (1985) laid bare the extent of a male-dominated practice, the recent surveys by Voss (2021a, 2021b) show little progress. Genealogy plus power has proven a potent force, although the complexities and nuances discussed by Erny and Godsey point to messy interactions rather than solely to the raw play of power. Male dominance in the direction of archaeological field projects is often hidden in a thousand innuendos and implicit, unspoken judgments.I would like to focus my comments on the question of whether collaborative field practices might go some way toward disentangling the veil of dominating practices. Erny and Godsey show that “the majority of Anglo-American survey projects in Greece continue to operate without any female representation at the highest level of leadership.” They suggest that progress might be made by building projects in which diversity and collaboration are valued. “It is not enough merely to increase the number of women in directorships. Rather, it will require a rethinking of the hierarchical structure of archaeological projects and a commitment to an ethos of collaboration.” They further suggest that “we should acknowledge that the interpretation and publication of survey data often integrates the contributions of a large and decentralized group of scholars, many of whom may influence each other’s ideas through more ‘heterarchical’ and less formal channels.”In my response to these insightful comments, I wish to explore the idea that promoting collaborative methods might lead to a greater participation by women. Çatalhöyük is a possible project at which to evaluate such an idea since it has long been seen as a testing ground for reflexive, multivocal, and collaborative methods (Hodder 1997, 2000, 2005). Largely because I wanted to avoid the genealogical inward-looking blinkering described by Erny and Godsey, I changed the team working at the site from time to time so that there were three phases of excavation, study, and publication in the 25 years of the project: 1993–1999, 2000–2008, and 2009–2018. During the 25-year period, the commitment to collaborative methods increased and became more widely known, especially when allied with a shift to fully digital recording and direct entry into the site database (Berggren et al. 2015). Practices such as lab and excavator discussions around the trenches (so-called priority tours), diary writing, and video recording of interpretations in the field (see www.catalhoyuk.com) became increasingly prevalent and discussed (see Mickel 2016). Specialist teams were expected to be on site in the dig house laboratories so that they could interact closely with the excavation teams.I have taken 1999, 2006, and 2015 as representative years in each phase of survey and excavation. Throughout the project different parts of the site were excavated by different teams—for example, the BACH Area was directed by Ruth Tringham and Mira Stevanovic, while the West Mound was directed by Peter Biehl and Burcin Erdoğu. In the three representative years the numbers of male and female excavation or regional survey directors were four male (including the author) and four female, five male and three female, and four male and three female. There is a male bias here but not at the level described by Erny and Godsey.A larger sample can be evaluated by considering the field laboratory heads. At any one time there were over 30 laboratory or science-based teams working at the site in the on-site dig house. These covered a changing cornucopia of topics from phytoliths and digital reconstruction to conservation, educational programs, and use-wear analysis. Figure 1 charts the numbers of men and women directing these projects. There is a clear pattern through time of decreasing numbers of male lab directors and an increasing proportion of female lab directors. My anecdotal experience of this process was that dominating individuals, often but not always men, gradually removed themselves from the project, whereas consensus builders, often but not always women, were more ready to join. As a result, over the 25 years of the project those committed to consensus building tended to prevail and endure, reinforcing the reflexive and collaborative methods that were in use.In conclusion, this evidence provides some support for the claim that increasing the number of women in field archaeology is not just a matter of “finding more women.” Rather, attention needs to be directed toward the field methods involved, promoting collaborative and consensus strategies at the expense of dominating and exclusive strategies. The Çatalhöyük case shows that there is a positive set of feedbacks between consensus-building methods and participation by women. This relationship is most clearly seen at Çatalhöyük in terms of directors of field laboratory and specialist study. It is possible that the same impact will occur as more collaborative methods are introduced into field survey and excavation. While a slight and unchanging male bias was noted above for field survey and direction, the total number of field excavators at Çatalhöyük who were male or female has hovered around the 50% mark and has not changed very much through time (the percentage of male field excavators was 48% in 1999 (n = 67), 47% in 2006 (n = 62), and 54% in 2015 (n = 57). In addition, it should be noted that the 5–10 site workers employed from local villages were 100% male, and all the finds sorters and house staff from the local community were women. I have written elsewhere (Hodder 2009) of the difficulties of working with and employing women in this very conservative part of Turkey. Nevertheless, the relatively high number of female excavators from outside the region may be seen as a product of the focus on collaborative research.At times at Çatalhöyük we experimented with ways of breaking down the division between lab and field staff more fully than was achieved in the priority tours. Individuals circulated, working at times in the excavations and at times in the field labs. Given the frequent association in archaeology between women and “domestic” lab work and between men and the field, such a move worked to further break down these stereotypes and promote participation by collaborative individuals. However, the move to integrate lab and field was impeded by the increasing pressures on all staff to specialize in specific subfields and to work at the highest levels of professionalism and expertise, with limited time and funding. Nevertheless, collaboration is today seen as an ideal in many contemporary movements from Indigenous Archaeology to Black Feminist Archaeology (Atalay 2006; Battle-Baptiste 2016). I hope that this short contribution has served to underscore the importance of creating a collaborative working context in field archaeology.

Abstract Forced migration as a reaction to National Socialism represents individual as well as simultaneously collective, transnational, and global experiences. Not only identity-forming categories but also forms of knowledge are profoundly reshaped by processes of displacement and resettlement. The paper argues that the biography of the archaeologist Grete Mostny (1914–91) offers an exemplary case study of such processes of adaptation on individual, collective, and academic levels. Due to her escape from Austria to Chile as a persecuted Jew in 1938/39, Mostny's identity as a white European (female) scholar attained a whole new significance and became the door opener for her interdisciplinary career at the interface of archaeology and anthropology in her new homeland. Her research in Chile was a product of a global event—namely mass forced emigration from Europe—as well as of factors on the micro level, such as her European descent and her academic education, which gave her certain privileges in her new environment. When Mostny arrived in Chile in 1939, a new European and U.S. hegemony had already begun to dominate academia in the country, which was trying to modernise itself and move from the academic periphery closer to the centre. Mostny, the once racially persecuted scholar, fit well in this process by making use of her “European” knowledge and her networks. In 1954 she received international attention when she put together a pioneering interdisciplinary research team to study El Niño del Cerro El Plomo, a four-hundred-year-old Inca mummy found in the Andes five thousand metres above sea level. Nationally, Mostny's study contributed, beyond all measure, to the Andean state's identity, as it re-evaluated and enhanced Chile's prehistory. In a time of political and social tensions in Chile, the rediscovery of its Indigenous prehistory—even by a foreign white scholar—helped to overcome the old shadows of colonial historical research, perhaps because in the immediate present the Indigenous movement in Chile offered little potential for consensus. This article uses Mostny's transnational biography as a lens through which to detect these connected histories and entangled hegemonies in the fields of anthropology and archaeology, which have become instrumental in the formation of Chile's national identity. Moreover, the paper shows that the category of race played a central role in the field of knowledge production and career development, not only for Grete Mostny.

Archaeology sits in places

In this article we discuss the interest of the Emberá (an Amerindian indigenous group) in collecting knowledge about material remains of the past—such as colonial and pre-colonial ceramic fragments – that are easily found in Eastern Panama. We situate this interest of the Emberá (and their desire to learn more about the past) within the context of indigenous tourism, which has inspired the articulation of new narratives about Emberá history and identity. In addition, the accidental discovery by the Emberá of ceramic fragments from past periods has instigated and facilitated archaeological investigation, a process that resulted in a reciprocal exchange of knowledge between the Emberá and the academic investigators. Such a reciprocal relationship, we argue, can contribute towards the decolonisation of archaeology, create synergies between anthropology and archaeology, and enhance indigenous representation in tourism.

ABSTRACT In this article I reflect on work I am engaged in to support heritage preservation within and along with the indigenous Kalash community in Pakistan, as an active member of that community and the head of the Chitral Museum. As a curator and archaeologist, my main aim has been to secure and protect the identity of the Kalasha people and our links to the archaeological past. I also work with the community to improve the recognition of both tangible and intangible heritage, particularly in the context of challenges posed by factors such as socio-economic, environmental, and political issues impacting the livelihood, health, and education of the Kalasha people. The key changes needed are improvements in education done in conjunction with improvements to livelihood and infrastructure – it is through working on all of these needs in concert that we will also be able to do heritage work, as these are all interrelated. Ultimately, I seek to preserve the archaeology of Chitral as well as greatly improve public awareness and education regarding Kalash history and culture – I want every Kalash child to be proud of being Kalash.