Native American Graves Protection Research Articles

The Impact of DNA Analysis Technology on the Rate of NAGPRA Repatriations

This paper investigates whether recent advancements in DNA analysis technology have impacted the rate with which Native American remains are repatriated, or returned, to linear descendants or culturally affiliated tribes. The purpose of this study is to determine whether DNA analysis technology has effected repatriation rates specifically in Native American Grave Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) cases. This paper compiles information for all NAGPRA notices published in the National Register to conduct a statistical analysis of the rate of repatriations between 2011 and 2021. The resulting figures demonstrate that DNA analysis technology had an extremely slight effect on the rate of repatriation. The paper then concludes that this may be due to the difficulties in implementing DNA analysis as a culturally acceptable Archaeological methodology.

What do repatriation and reclamation sound like? Two examples from the Hopi Cultural Preservation Office

AbstractWhen the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) was passed in 1990, it marked an important shift in relations between tribal communities and non‐tribal museums in the United States. By listening to how different speakers at the Hopi Cultural Preservation Office talk about repatriation and reclamation, we can see that these processes involve more than the return of ancestors and belongings; they also influence how people speak about and express group identity. In discussions about repatriation, Hopi community members frequently talk to outsiders and adjust to their ways of speaking, if only temporarily. I compare two instances in which speakers creatively used possessive constructions to convey different scales of identity and argue that Bakhtin's concept of “addressivity” illuminates connections between the two. More broadly, I suggest that this concept is useful for thinking about how relationships between tribal and non‐tribal institutions might continue to be transformed in ways that are responsive to contemporary Indigenous claims and presence.

No Stone Unturned

A prefatory note from the editorial collective. When the Society for Cultural Anthropology selected our distributed, international editorial collective to lead Cultural Anthropology, they did so in part to support our commitment to opening channels of this crucial platform of our discipline beyond the scope of privileged, endowed higher educational institutions in the United States. As one step of this process, in this issue we provide space to the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma to describe their work since the passage of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) in 1990. As Deanna L. Byrd, the NAGPRA Liaison-Coordinator and Research and Outreach Program Manager of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma, and Ian Thompson, the Tribal Historic Preservation Officer of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma, writes, since that time, “Native American communities gained a measure of say in how ancestral burials are treated on federal lands. The law also established a mechanism to help Native American, Alaskan, and Native Hawaiian communities have open dialogue with institutions across the country about the return of their ancestors, funerary objects, sacred objects, and objects of cultural patrimony.” Please read the rest of their guest commentary to learn more.

Respecting the Ancestors

Universities and museums across the United States have possession of the remains of several hundred thousand Native Americans, collected by grave robbers in past generations and kept by anthropologists today. None gave permission for their remains to be used by “science.” The Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA), passed by Congress in 1990, requires these institutions to survey the remains, catalogue them, report them to the federal government, find their likely descendants, and return the ancestors promptly. Thirty-three years later, that law has been honored mainly in the breach. Only in the past two or three years have some institutions begun to get serious about this responsibility. Using the University of California, Santa Barbara, as a case study, this essay charts the long path by which well-intended anthropologists managed to see themselves as champions of Native rights, yet never take steps to return the ancestors’ remains. While the goals of scientific study may be presented as beneficial to all humankind, this case study shows how the claimed interests of scientists persistently trump the human rights of the people whose bones they keep for study. The essay also reports on the long-standing efforts of Chumash Indians to recover their ancestors, and on recent moves by the university to fulfill their legal and moral obligations.

Decolonizing Museums: Toward a Paradigm Shift

This review examines the discourses and practices that have produced a lively literature on museum decolonization created by scholars of museum practices and curators. We consider the trajectory of decolonization efforts in museums, focusing especially on the care of Native North American heritage, with comparison to similar trajectories internationally. We begin with a discussion of decolonizing moments in theory and practice, with particular attention to 1990s critique of ethnographic museums and developments after the passage of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA). Following this discussion is a review of works on concerns regarding Native American representation and public displays, involvement in collections care, and the varied collaborations that are changing museum practices. The final section foregrounds the fluorescence of tribal museums and their contributions to the decolonization and indigenization of museums, as well as emerging paradigm shifts in both the anthropology of museums and anthropology in museums.

A test of the (hu)MANid analytical program using a native American population.

Recently, Berg and Kenyhercz (2017) developed a free web-based software package, (hu)MANid, that classifies mandibles by ancestry and sex based on either linear or mixture discriminant analysis of 11 osteometric and six morphoscopic variables. The metric and morphoscopic variables assessed using (hu)MANid have been determined to be highly replicable, however, few external validation studies have been conducted. This article provides a test of the (hu)MANid analytical software using an independent sample (n = 52) of Native American mandibles from the Great Lakes region to investigate the accuracy of the program for identifying this important demographic group. When processed using linear discriminant analysis in (hu)MANid, 82.7% of the mandibles (43/52) were correctly classified as Native American. When processed using mixture discriminant analysis in (hu)MANid, 67.3% of the mandibles (35/52) were correctly classified as Native American. The difference in accuracy between the methods is not statistically significant. Our results suggest (hu)MANid is an accurate tool for anthropologists attempting to determine whether skeletal remains are Native American when establishing forensic significance, creating a biological profile, and conducting work associated with the federal Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act.

Chapter 10 Archaeologists as Indian Advocates? Lessons from Skinner, the Little‐Weasel; Moorehead, the Indian Commissioner; and Other Predecessors

ABSTRACTArchaeologists who study the Native past have a responsibility to the Native present. But our academic training does little to prepare us for advocacy work. Personal interests, ethics, and the precariousness of employment often dictate what can be done. Doing nothing is easier and safer than speaking out, but idleness reinforces the irrelevancy of archaeology to contemporary social issues. Recalling the advocacy decisions of two archaeological ancestors, Alanson B. Skinner and Warren K. Moorehead, helps us to consider how and when archaeologists should act beyond their own job descriptions. Skinner's attempts to educate the White‐public and Moorehead's work to guide governmental policies were not flawless. But their willingness to do something helps us reconsider if we, as individual archaeologists, are doing enough. First and foremost, archaeologists should ensure that their institutions have complied with the spirit of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, not just the letter of the law. We should also ensure that we take opportunities to connect the Native past to the Indigenous present, in ways that go beyond land acknowledgements. Archaeologists can be better allies, accomplices, and co‐conspirators.

Introduction

Introduction

Biological samples taken from Native American Ancestors are human remains under NAGPRA.

In the United States, the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) provides a specific framework for the disposition of Native American Ancestral remains within its purview. However, samples such as a bone fragment, tooth, or other biological tissue taken from the remains of these Ancestors have been treated by institutions and researchers as independent of the individual from whom they were removed and used in destructive research such as paleogenomic and other archaeometric analyses without consultation, consent, and collaboration from Native American communities; are not cared for in keeping with the current best practices for Indigenous Ancestors; and are not likely to be repatriated to their communities. Here, we demonstrate that any biological samples removed from Ancestors who are covered under NAGPRA must also be handled according to the stipulations defined for "human remains" within the legislation. As such, we are not proposing a change to existing legislation, but rather best practices, specific to the context of the United States and NAGPRA, relating to the use of and care for biological samples taken from Native American Ancestors.

The NAGPRA Nexus, Institutional Integrity, and the Evolving Role of Archaeological Laboratories

AbstractIn November 1995, the Laboratory of Archaeology at the University of Georgia submitted inventories and summaries of Indigenous ancestors and funerary objects in its holdings to comply with the passage of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA). However, after this submission, the Laboratory attempts at consultation with federally recognized descendant Tribal communities who have cultural ties in the state of Georgia were not successful, and NAGPRA-related activities essentially stalled at the Laboratory. Beginning in 2019, the Laboratory's staff recognized a lack of formal NAGPRA policies or standards, which led to a complete reevaluation of the Laboratory's approach to NAGPRA. In essence, it was the Laboratory's renewed engagement with NAGPRA and descendan tribal communities that became the catalyst for change in the Laboratory's philosophy as a curation repository. This shift in thinking set the Laboratory on a path toward building a descendant community–informed institutional integrity (DCIII) level of engagement with consultation and collaborative efforts in all aspects of collections management and archaeological research. In this article, we outline steps that the Laboratory has taken toward implementing meaningful policies and practices created with descendant Tribal communities that both fulfill and extend bounds of NAGPRA compliance.

Repatriating the Buffalo: NAGPRA’s Applicability to Yellowstone Bison Management

The American bison—also known as the buffalo—holds great significance to many Native American people and cultures. Although bison populations have grown since their near destruction in the 19th century, the last remaining wild bison are under threat by the National Park Service’s Yellowstone management plan. Native representatives have had only a limited advisory role in creating the plan, and a number of Native individuals and advocacy groups have spoken out against it. This essay explores the possibility of applying the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act to living animals for the first time, categorizing the bison as “objects of cultural patrimony” in order to facilitate repatriation and shift management authority to tribal representatives.

The Search for the First Americans: Science, Power, Politics by Robert V. Davis

Reviewed by: The Search for the First Americans: Science, Power, Politics by Robert V. Davis G. Richard Scott The Search for the First Americans: Science, Power, Politics. By Robert V. Davis. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2021. ix + 145 pp. Notes, bibliography. $45.00 cloth. Davis, a nonspecialist in the field of First American studies, breaks his book into three parts: (1) First American Theories, Myths, and Evidence, (2) First American Science, and (3) Community. Each part includes several chapters that cover a range of topics from American Indian creation myths and the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act to how archaeologists, linguists, bioanthropologists, and geneticists address the issue of First Americans. On several occasions, Davis quotes Jim Adovasio, who says the basic problem is "who the hell are these people, where did they come from, and when did they get here" (ix). Davis adds that "Although much has been documented, science is no closer today to finding an answer than at any time since the arrival of Columbus. In short, it has been a failed endeavor" (ix). I have many colleagues who would take umbrage with such a pessimistic view of progress in the search for the First Americans. A short review cannot do justice to the strides made in this endeavor, and these strides are in every field Davis discusses, from archaeology and linguistics to dental anthropology and genetics. Perhaps Davis is thinking there should be a dramatic paradigm shift like plate tectonics in geology. The impact of genomics on this problem comes close and may reach that status at some point. Davis focuses attention on the Clovis culture, with special reference to Blackwater Draw in New Mexico, and how the technology of this culture with its distinctive lanceolate fluted points evolved to serve as the bellwether of First Americans. Following in the footsteps of Paul Martin and Vance Haynes, a Clovis-first position developed in the 1960s and hardened over several decades. I have known and worked with Clovis-first archaeologists, but they are not wedded to the "fact" that the Clovis tradition represented the earliest peoples in the Americas. They are "wedded" to the position of "show me the evidence." For many early claims of pre-Clovis, the evidence was questionable, and many sites were dismissed as pre-Clovis. In recent times, things have changed—there are now sites most agree are pre-Clovis, so the "Clovis police" is shrinking. Moreover, many scholars who thought First Americans arrived via the Bering Land Bridge and then traversed an ice-free corridor through Canada now acknowledge that a maritime route is likely given the late opening of the corridor. Granted, I am a First American scientist, but I appreciate the space Davis devotes to American Indian creation myths. Unfortunately, some pit these creation myths against science, but that is not a position with which I am familiar. Most of us in the field are anthropologists, so we understand the nature of creation myths. They are a cultural universal that meets a human need to know how everything was created, including specific groups of humans. They have no empirical basis and cannot be falsified, and none of us are in the business of doing that. As a nonspecialist, Davis does a good job summing up alternative viewpoints on the question of First Americans. His sections on history are useful and enlightening but his treatment of First American science is dated. He discusses mtDNA and Y chromosome variation, but these have been supplanted by genomic studies that analyze thousands of single nucleotide polymorphisms. The human footprints found at White Sands in New Mexico that are older than 20,000 years were reported after the book was published. I mention this because it adds another notch in the pre-Clovis belt [End Page 59] and generates a whole new set of questions on when and by what route the First Americans arrived in the "New World." For readers unfamiliar with the history of First American science and Native American creation myths, this book is a good starting point. Davis is to be commended for taking on such a thorny issue. It brings to the forefront the Native American position of...

Without their Consent: Handling Legacy Collections and Anatomy Teaching Specimens Acquired without Informed Consent

Legacy collections have proven invaluable for teaching students about anatomy and standard methods. It is safe to presume, however, that ancient and historic decedents never consented to their inclusion in collections or use as pedagogical tools. A utilitarian position—that the use of these human remains serves a higher scientific purpose—becomes even harder to justify when educators acknowledge the historic necropolitical projects and suffering that underpinned the formation of legacy collections. How then to proceed scholastically with such affective and politically charged human remains?As a complex case study, I consider the Samuel G. Morton Crania Collection. To instruct the medical students who populated his anatomy classes, the Philadelphia physician amassed over 900 crania from 1830 to 1851. After Morton’s death, the Academy of Natural Sciences purchased the collection, where it was all but forgotten. Almost a century later, in 1966, it came under the stewardship of the Penn Museum, its pedagogical purpose resurrected. While Stephen Jay Gould drew attention to the scientific racism of Morton’s research, it was not until the passage of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990 that ethical deliberations began in earnest. Here I continue these trains of thought with a discussion of the Afro‐Cuban crania in the Morton Collection.Morton acquired these decedents from his Cuban colleague Dr. José Rodriguez Cisneros in 1840. The latter designated them “negros bozales,” an indicator of their enslaved status and African origins; additional information about tribe and country was not provided. In summer 2020, in the wake of the murder of George Floyd and the racial justice protests his death catalyzed, these skulls erupted into the public consciousness. There were calls to “Return Them All.” I regard this response as well intentioned but also reactionary and unnuanced. To determine if sustained use is viable where consent is inadequate, for this case and more generally, I bring to the fore two concepts: the agentive corpse and ontological insecurity. Both concepts require educators and researchers to culturally contextualize human remains, as well as attend to the dynamic meanings attached to them—by past communities and their living descendants. With this knowledge in hand, I make some tentative recommendations about the fate of these controversial and highly sensitive human remains.

The Indigenous Paleolithic of the Western Hemisphere

Steeves eloquently reminds us that settler/colonial history is not the only history nor the singular authority on the past. Through a multi-lensed approach, weaving archaeology, sociology, and her own Indigenous traditions, Steeves challenges supporters of the already waning view concerning a panhemispheric cultural group that migrated to the prehistoric Americas. Defining all prehistoric Native Americans as descendants of a singular ancestral Clovis Point people is a gross oversimplification and is not supported by the archaeological evidence, the oral traditions of Indigenous groups, nor by linguistics. Steeves warns that classifying all prehistoric American Indigenous peoples as Clovis (a) wrongly groups them as homogenous, (b) superimposes a single technological categorization on diverse heritages, and (c) forces an untrue, Eurocentric narrative.Though the Indigenous method and theory that Steeves employs includes empirical knowledge and critical thought, her process also recognizes these are not the only systems for knowing the world. Furthermore, she emphasizes that in the Indigenous method, no one owns the knowledge; instead it is relational, providing a corroboration between oral tradition and archaeological record. Steeves presents her work in a way that celebrates the diverse groups often reduced to “Indian” tropes, refuting that these different cultural, heritage, and language groups were all the same; additionally, she is adamant in dispelling the stereotyped myth that Native Americans are anti-science. She frames this conversation in terms of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (1990) and the important work of returning human remains and funerary objects, including the remains of the Ancient One (Kennewick Man), the reburial of whom a number of Western archaeologists and institutions fought to prevent. Another issue she addresses is the use of arbitrary European nomenclature for groups, lands, flora and fauna, and cultural practices when discussing Indigenous history—instead, she argues, archaeologists and historians should use the names given by Indigenous peoples when referring to Indigenous histories. Steeves claims that expanding how we explain and explore Indigenous histories also expands our understanding of global history.Steeves postulates that there were much earlier and more frequent migrations of people to the Western Hemisphere, and that those who refute this possibility do so from the Clovis First hypothesis, which has never existed save in the minds of historians. Likewise, is it possible that indigenous groups migrated from North America to Asia (the reverse of the commonly affirmed migration pattern)? Steeves, a proponent of the multi-regional hypothesis, finds that human habitation of the Western Hemisphere could go back as far as 130,000 years ago. She investigates why pre-Clovis models have been dismissed by historians since the mid-twentieth century.Intercutting her criticism of the Euro-dominant praxis within archaeology and anthropology, Steeves uses empirical evidence, linguistic evidence, personal narratives, poetry, and Indigenous ways of knowing to express a lucid and thorough critique of commonly held beliefs about history and prehistory. Proposing a holistic approach, she shows a rich relational knowledge contained in traditional peoples’ oral histories stretching to deep time and spaces. Such stories speak of Pleistocene beasts, evidenced by two mammoth teeth kept as sacred objects.In short, Steeves attempts to reclaim the histories of prehistoric Indigenous groups by Indigenous scholars for Indigenous peoples today. In her journey, she shares with us that the stubborn inability of those who refuse a pre-Clovis habitation of the Western Hemisphere have done so not because of the evidence but because it was important to maintain the facade of a people who had an infant culture easily conquered by the older, more dominant, and more established Old World empires. By dehumanizing the Indigenous—then and now—it is possible to rationalize the systematic destruction of those traditional lifeways.Steeves ends her work by calling on scholars to fan the flames of the Eighth Fire—what she calls a healing smoke—which is a place of peace, intersected by settler and Indigenous pasts. Unlike any scholarly work I have enjoyed, Steeves brings an unprecedented life to her claims. Her fire not only challenges what we have said about the past but will also certainly inspire new, vibrant scholarship that breaks down conventions and barriers.

Beyond NAGPRA/Not NAGPRA

Institutions have been slow to respond to calls from Indigenous nations, organizations, and scholars to require free, prior, and informed consent before authorizing use of their cultural heritage materials in publications, exhibition, and research. In the United States, the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990 fundamentally changed the relationship between museums, archaeologists, and Indigenous nations, requiring institutions to inventory their collections and consult with descendant communities on repatriation of specific Indigenous collections. In response, institutions and their personnel have come to view Indigenous collections as those subject to NAGPRA and those that are not—NAGPRA/Not NAGPRA. Many Indigenous nations, however, do not accept this demarcation, resulting in continued frustration and trauma for those descendant communities. This case study follows the evolving relationship between the White Earth Band of the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe and the Robert S. Peabody Institute of Archaeology. Beginning with repatriation, the relationship has expanded to consider how the museum and Indigenous nation can collaborate on the care and curation of cultural heritage materials that remain at the Peabody Institute. Most recently, White Earth and the Peabody have executed an MOU that governs how the museum will handle new acquisitions, found-in-collections materials, and donor offers. The relationship with the White Earth also has influenced how the Peabody Institute approaches its holdings of Indigenous cultural heritage materials more broadly, blurring the line between NAGPRA and Not NAGPRA collections. The Peabody Institute is working to revise its collections policy to require free, prior, and informed consent prior to use of Indigenous cultural heritage materials in publications, exhibitions, and research.

Artefacts, Archives, and Documentation in the Relational Museum

Artefacts, Archives, and Documentation in the Relational Museum

Der Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NA GPRA)

Der Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NA GPRA)

(Re)Moving Indigenous Knowledge Boundaries: A Review of Library and Archival Collection Literature since the Enactment of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA)

The enactment of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) in 1990 marked a turning point for the stewardship and preservation of Indigenous cultural heritage materials. In the past 30 years, themes in library and archival collection literature have also shifted to emphasize decolonization, equity, diversity, and inclusion. This article provides an overview of scholarship on Indigenous and Indigenous-related research materials with evidence of advocacy and integration of decolonization methodologies in acquisitions, bibliographic sources and tools, digitization, access, and associated curriculum. Discussion of issues yet to be remediated and areas for further research are also presented.

Review: Cataloguing Culture: Legacies of Colonialism in Museum Documentation, by Hannah Turner

Review: <i>Cataloguing Culture: Legacies of Colonialism in Museum Documentation</i>, by Hannah Turner

Restitution: Paths Toward a Clearing

Restitution: Paths Toward a Clearing