Article
Journal of Social Archaeology
2021, Vol. 21(1) 53–73
Changing how ! The Author(s) 2020
Article reuse guidelines:
archaeology is done [Link]/journals-permissions
DOI: 10.1177/1469605320945469
in Native American [Link]/home/jsa
contexts: An Ndee
(Apache) case study
Nicholas C Laluk
Department of Anthropology, Northern Arizona University,
Flagstaff, USA
Abstract
The White Mountain Apache Tribe Cultural Heritage Resource Best Management
Practices (WMATCHRBMPs) present and delineate in guideline form cultural heritage
resource definitions, management, and necessary steps before, during, and after project
implementation for any ground-disturbing projects potentially adversely affecting cul-
tural heritage resources on Ndee (Apache) trust lands. However, since the tribe’s
adoption of the practices, the application of Ndee tenets found within the guidelines
to real-world cultural and archaeological methods and practices remains scant.
Embedded in the Ndee cultural tenets is the tenet of “respect,” which I will argue
can be used as a tool by non-Ndee researchers to critically reflect on their own
research agendas and to guide research projects with Ndee communities. By fore-
grounding respect within various ongoing archaeological project-related occurrences,
contemporary Ndee experiences, defining Ndee material trait lists, superiority state-
ments, archaeological categorizations, and stereotypical underpinnings, better paths
Corresponding author:
Nicholas C Laluk, Department of Anthropology, Northern Arizona University, 5 E McConnell Dr, Flagstaff,
AZ 86011, USA.
Email: [Link]@[Link]
54 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
forward for collaborative research with Ndee and other Native American communities
can be highlighted.
Keywords
Ndee (Apache), indigenous archaeology, respect, tenets, methodology
Introduction
In the continental United States, Native American communities are plagued by the
legacies of early archaeological practice (Ferguson, 1996; McGuire, 1992; Trigger,
1980). The critical application and assessment of Native American epistemologies
and tribally based parameters that act as the most effective means of method and
practice are absent. The lack of consideration and effective inclusion of Native
American epistemologies and best management practices leads to perpetually stag-
nant understandings of the past and present. This article suggests that there is a
critical need for archaeologists working with Ndee communities to embrace tribal
cultural heritage resource management practices beyond guideline form.
Embracing such guidelines as “tenets” not only underpins the traditional and
customary legal nature of Ndee tenets, but also exerts sovereignty-based under-
standings beyond simple recommendations that may or may not be included in
final deliverables/reports or critically evaluated to provide the most beneficial out-
comes for tribal entities. What I mean by sovereignty-based understandings is
those tribal knowledge systems and practices that are created, maintained, and
driven by tribal communities themselves. Welch (2018: 268) defines sovereignty-
driven research “as the creation and mobilization of knowledge to serve collective
interests in establishing and maintaining rights and responsibilities to govern, pro-
vide for, represent, and pursue desired futures on behalf of people and associated
territory.” Therefore, exertion of tribal sovereignty in cultural heritage resource
management projects allows for more “Ndee-controlled” processes to guide
anthropological research and helps Ndee communities to better preserve and
protect their culture, heritage, and identity in Ndee terms.
The goal of this article is to foreground a straightforward Ndee cultural tenet—
Respect. The practice of respect is essential to many collaborative projects in
reference to Native American communities and archaeologists, but understandings
embedded in respect often elude researchers and thus more promising and produc-
tive dialogue. Increased understanding and possibly enhanced wisdom can be
achieved when respect is embraced, beyond the implied practical meanings of
Ndee tenets, by non-Ndee researchers. Embracing respect empowers Ndee commu-
nities beyond standard regulatory processes or the dubious application of
Westernized method and theory, and transforms collaborative research into a
social and political tool for the present and future (Atalay et al., 2014: 8).
Laluk 55
Moreover, echoing Atalay et al. (2014: 9), because overall project goals directed
under current Western theoretical frameworks and methodologies often disconnect
Ndee communities from their history through interpretation and dissemination,
there needs to be a critical focus on Ndee epistemological reasoning that fore-
grounds Ndee culture and history as defined by Ndee communities. The current
practice of archaeology continues to marginalize Indigenous groups from their
own past because the power structures guiding the goals of archaeological
research, analysis, data collection, and information sharing are often only useful
to archaeologists, since they are the ones who created and maintain such processes
(Atalay et al., 2014: 9).
This article suggests that Ndee cultural tenets like Respect can be used and
applied to Ndee research contexts, contributing to overall community well-being
and a sense of balance, beauty, and harmony, known as G ozho, for Western
Apache communities. Paths to such well-being and understandings can be achieved
through: (1) contemporary Ndee in-field experiences, including project-related
prayers/blessings/ceremonies; (2) exposing the limitations of Ndee “trait-lists”
that often guide and define research goals, as well as the issues with utilizing
ongoing stereotypical notions and assumptions in reference to Ndee culture and
associated research, including archaeological terminology and subtle intellectual
superiority statements; and (3) using the Ndee language and “place-based” reason-
ing to better inform contemporary researchers in becoming “wiser” and respectful
when conducting research on Ndee trust lands.
Ndee communities
My research focuses on the traditional homeland of various Ndee tribal nations
who, in 2013, signed the Ndee Iłahık’ai/Nnee Iłahık’ai (Apache People Joining
Together, also known as the Inter-Apache Policy on Repatriation and the
Protection of Apache Culture) (Gah’nahvah/Ya Ti’, 2013; Welch, 2017). These
tribal nations include Fort Apache Indian Reservation, leaders of the Jicarilla
Apache Nation, Mescalero Apache Tribe, Fort Sill Apache Tribe, San Carlos
Apache Tribe, Tonto Apache Tribe, Apache Tribe of Oklahoma, White
Mountain Apache Tribe, and Yavapai-Apache Nation. Therefore, in keeping
with the terms of the agreement, I refer to non-Navajo Southern Athapaskans
that I work with as “Ndee” and to the six Ndee cultural traditions as Kiowa,
Lipan, Jicarilla, Mescalero, Chiricahua, and Western Apaches (Welch, 2000).
The Ndee Iłahık’ai is grounded in an affirmation of a fundamental Southern
Athapaskan precept: G o—a state of beauty, balance, and harmony between
ozh
the natural world, our communities, and ourselves. Attaining such states of G
ozh
o
requires enduring commitment to Ndee tenets in all components and stages of
anthropological-archaeological work with Ndee communities.
The results of this article are based on not only my identity as a White
Mountain Apache tribal community member but also the overall experiences
I have shared with Ndee colleagues from various Ndee Nations throughout my
56 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
anthropological career. Although I use the term Ndee throughout this article per
the terms of the Ndee Iłahık’ai/Nnee Iłahık’ai, I draw heavily from experience and
dialogue with my own community as well as the Mescalero Apache Nation, who
I have worked with in the past while employed at the U.S. Forest Service and for
my doctoral dissertation. Many of the conversations I have had over the years with
Ndee colleagues concerning cultural heritage resource management often stress the
need for respect as a key component of archaeological research that should be
guided by tribally based parameters to ensure things are being done right. Building
upon such recognitions, this article foregrounds the concept of respect as a direc-
tional tool for future archaeological-anthropological work. I embrace the tenet of
respect as outlined in the Ndee cultural heritage resource best management prac-
tices (Welch et al., 2004), encompassing the interrelations and well-being of “the
seamless whole” in Ndee worldviews. Embracing such a form of respect might
allow non-Ndee researchers to look beyond the static categorizations, trait-lists,
and perpetual stereotypes that often guide Ndee research questions and under-
standings. The conceptual underpinning of respecting the seamless whole chal-
lenges archaeologists to look beyond traditional academic and scientifically
informed archaeological practice to a more holistic and inclusive Ndee-informed
methodology guided by Ndee experiences and perceptions. By delineating various
ways non-Ndee and Ndee researchers can embrace respect as a methodological tool
that can be used throughout the research process, better relationships and under-
standings of the wants and needs of contemporary Ndee groups can be realized.
Cultural heritage resources
“Apache customs and traditions recognize and sustain stewardship responsibilities,
mandating Apache duties to protect and nurture what has been inherited from
Apache ancestors” (Welch et al., 2004: 2). “To do this it is necessary to leave the
land and its resources in an improved condition for future generations” (Welch
et al., 2004: 2). Because many areas of the Ndee traditional and contemporary
homeland exhibit such intimate and ongoing connections to Ndee well-being, Ndee
tribally derived knowledge systems need to be applied as tenets in the form of
mandated policy.
Ndee cultural tenets guiding resource management are outlined below (after
Welch et al., 2004: 3).
• Respect animals, plants, and minerals as parts of a seamless whole;
• Maintain balance between resource use and resource enhancement;
• Protect sacred sites and places of traditional cultural importance, as well as
archaeological and historical artifacts and structures;
• Manage CHRs to blend into and harmonize with surrounding ecosystems;
• Employ non-invasive and least impact treatments and methods;
Laluk 57
• Recognize that most CHRs are embedded in landscapes; project-related changes
to plant communities, soil systems, or ecosystem functions may bring adverse
effects to CHRs;
• Assure that the WMAT and Apache people receive all or most of any benefits
from resource uses and activities;
• Acknowledge that suffering may visit those who fail to respect graves, objects,
or other sites associated with Apache or non-Apache ancestors.
Although there is no overarching consensus among the various Ndee groups
and individuals concerning CHR management practices, the aforementioned
tenets demonstrate the uniquely significant association Ndee groups have to the
past and present. Moreover, presenting the tenet of Respect, underpinned by
attaining states of Gozho, demonstrates the need for non-Ndee researchers
to view and utilize Ndee cultural heritage resource tenets beyond guideline
form, and ultimately to “restore Ndee control over Ndee heritage” (Welch et al.,
2009: 152).
Useful directional tools: Why?
Because disturbance of CHRs disrupts traditional spirituality and is extremely
offensive, Ndee groups, in many cases, respectfully avoid the past and practice
“least impact” heritage management strategies. For example, on my own reserva-
tion various Ndee individuals are skeptical and question the motives of any type of
ground-disturbing research on Ndee lands. Years of extraction and research con-
ducted with minimal if any community benefits to Ndee communities lead many
Ndee individuals to question any type of research. Many Ndee individuals practice
avoidance and consider dealing with the past taboo. As stated by Welch et al.
(2009: 151), “Ndee teachings mandate respect for all ancient places, objects, and
intangibles, affirming avoidance as the highest form of respect. The past is often
treated as a closed subject and those evincing interest in the knowledge and pos-
sessions of the dead are often viewed with suspicion.” Moreover, the negative
legacies of large-scale archaeological projects like Grasshopper Field School
have contributed to tribal members questioning the motivations of non-Ndee
researchers wanting to conduct research on Ndee lands. Many prominent
Southwest archaeologists began their careers through field research schools on
White Mountain Apache Tribal Trust Lands. As researchers (Welch and
Ferguson, 2007: 172; see also Reid and Whittlesey, 2005: 218) point out, “research
at Grasshopper Pueblo, the ruins of a fourteenth-century village located on the
western side of White Mountain Apache lands, has produced more than 24 dis-
sertations, nine master’s theses, three books, six research monographs, and
100 book chapters and journal articles.” Furthermore, more than 1400 sets of
human remains and at least 2270 associated funerary objects have been excavated
and extracted from White Mountain Apache lands (Welch and Ferguson, 2007:
172)—a large bulk of human remains and items removed during Grasshopper
58 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
Figure 1. Trash buried in back-filled rooms at Grasshopper Pueblo by archaeologists. Photo by
Nicholas Laluk. On file, White Mountain Apache Tribe Historic Preservation Office.
Field School activities. The large-scale removal of ancestral remains and materials
has contributed to sociocultural suffering amongst White Mountain Apache
people due to not only the desecration and removal of our relatives, but also the
inability to keep the world in balance by having ancestors taken from their home-
lands and made unable to return. More recently, such legacies of past research on
White Mountain lands are continually experienced and felt even during tribal
efforts to repatriate and reinter our ancestors and associated remains (Figure 1).
For example, during a large-scale repatriation effort at Grasshopper Pueblo,
Ndee project team members came across an area where dozens of beer, whisky, and
oil cans had been deposited during the field school days. This blatant form of
disrespect by past archaeologists re-depositing trash into a sacred burial area
demonstrates extreme lack of respect for Ndee ancestors. Such experiences pose
the critical question, “What have they (archaeologists) done for the Ndee
community?” Although such invasive research is not as common of a practice as
it was, due to Ndee tribes taking control of their own heritage management and
other cultural programs, tribes still suffer from lack of adequate consultation,
collaboration, and effective recognition and application of cultural tenets in
research projects.
Respect in Ndee contexts: Prayer/blessing/ceremony
Various collaborative archaeological projects with Indigenous communities
(Anyon et al., 1997; Atalay, 2008a, 2008b; Cast et al., 2010; Christen, 2007;
Laluk 59
Dowdall and Parrish, 2003; Gonzalez, 2016; Hazarika, 2018; Krmpotich, 2012;
Kuwanwisiwma, 2008; Teague, 2007) have talked about the concepts of respect in
collaboration, heritage management, and repatriation contexts. Here, I would like
to add to such discussions by highlighting the usefulness of the tenets of respect
and underlying Ndee place-based reasoning that might guide non-Ndee researchers
working on Ndee trust lands. White Mountain Apache Cultural Resource Director
and NAGPRA Coordinator Ramon Riley once stated, in reference to the impor-
tance of mountains to Ndee lifeways and overall community well-being, that
“they and the stars guide us” (Spoerl, 2001: 41). Because the Ndee were
traditionally mountain peoples, the extreme importance and reverence Ndee
show to “holy places” throughout Ndee traditional territory is constant. Such
ongoing connections in the form of respect and responsibility through personal
prayer or offering demonstrate relationships that go beyond superficial under-
standings of prayer in collaborative archaeological contexts.
For example, throughout my research experience within collaborative, tribal,
and federal contexts, tribal members often begin any type of meeting, discussion,
or field visit with an appropriate prayer for guidance and protection, showing
that respectful, meaningful, and responsible project-related activities would
occur. It is important for outside researchers, and sometimes tribal members
as well, to understand that these blessings are necessary. They are not just for
the benefit of the tribal project participants and the tribal community, but for all
project personnel, their families, their future well-being, and the maintenance of
continued balance and harmony in the world as well. Silliman (2009) recognizes
these pre-project blessings or “smudges” as recent advancements or developments
as a result of long-term work associated with the Eastern Pequot. Although in
my personal experience these blessings/protective prayers are becoming more
common in collaborative projects, I ask if we as archaeologists might be
taking for granted prayers/ceremonies and oration manifested in elders/tribal
cultural experts? For example, while hearing/participating in project-associated
prayers, non-Ndee archaeologists and other Ndee individuals who do not follow
traditional ways might remove their hats, bow their heads, place their hands
together, and speculate on what they are hearing along the lines of their own
religious belief systems. They might kindly say thank you without much
more consideration or reflection of what the prayer-blessing truly means and
how it can be used as a methodology, guiding and underpinning all Ndee
cultural heritage resource management activities. Not only are these prayers
asking for protection and guidance filled with tremendous power, they are replete
with additional meaning in standard ethical paths for better collaborations to
emerge.
For example, if one of the main tenets of dealing with cultural heritage resour-
ces in the Ndee worldview is “respect,” then this is manifested in the tribal prac-
titioner giving the blessing/prayer as well. Often these prayers are given by the
most respected, influential, venerated tribal individuals because it is believed within
their community that their power is inherent, substantial, and highly effective.
60 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
Following Cajete’s (2004: 52) statement that “We humans bring our reality into
being by our thoughts, actions and intentions; hence, the focus of Native tradi-
tions on prayer to bring about and perpetuate life,” prayer in Ndee contexts
contributes to achieving states of G o not only to keep balance and harmony
ozh
within the world but to perpetuate all components of life beyond specific archae-
ological projects. As Welch and Ferguson (2007: 192–193) point out, “Through
prayers and respectful avoidance of places of sacred power and objects retired as
the final phase of ceremonial use, Apaches maintain connections to lands,
sites, objects and cultural traditions.” Here, such a tenet as the respectful
prayer is dynamically braided and connected to all components of Ndee existence
and future well-being. When non-Ndee individuals can see and embrace such
connections and work to contribute to cultural, environmental, political, and
social justice for Ndee communities, then better collaborative research can be
achieved.
In his book Research Is Ceremony: Indigenous Research Methods, Cree scholar
Shawn Wilson (2008: 73) discusses the concept of relationality in Indigenous con-
texts and suggests that “there is no one definite reality but rather different sets of
relationships that make up an Indigenous ontology.” Applying this statement to
the practice of prayer or blessings during Ndee collaborative archaeological
research projects demonstrates the interrelationships of prayer and ceremony as
dynamic and not conforming to or understood as a singular project-specific action,
but a respectful, ongoing, cyclical methodology that constantly bridges everything
together.
Following Wilson’s reasoning that Native American and Indigenous research
methods should be viewed as “ceremony,” the blessing/prayer/ceremony compo-
nent, from Ndee perspectives, acts as “ceremony” in a plethora of ways beyond
pre- and post-project smudging or prayer. The spaces within the pre- and post-
project blessings are not only guided by such blessings, but are areas for non-Ndee
archaeologists to fill their own gaps in knowledge, thinking, methodology, and
practice. Such knowledge-filling underscores a relational accountability between
the past and present that may not be part of their intellectual toolkit due to
understandings of the Ndee past learned primarily from non-Ndee scholars.
Wilson (2008) and Williams (2012) both recognize the relational and relational
accountability components of any research project, but Williams further empha-
sizes that such a model of ceremony “continues to be used and should continue
to mediate between Native communities and outside researchers” (Williams,
2012: 109).
This recognition underscores my point that the most necessary, practical, and
rational form of dealing with the past—the prayer/blessing/ceremony from the
Ndee worldview—is a powerful tenet of protection and respect. It is also a vehicle
of critical reflection researchers can utilize to guide and conduct themselves in
ethically responsible, respectful, and responsive ways that really can make a dif-
ference to contemporary tribal communities. Demonstrating unfailing respect,
discarding any type of paternalistic notion, being superficially aware, and realizing
Laluk 61
that what happened to Native American groups in the past bears directly on how
they handle the present are essential to individual reflective processes. Because the
past defines contemporary reality, then all activities associated with dealing with
the past have to be approached within necessary tribally based parameters to avoid
continued misinterpretation, poor collaborative/consultation efforts, and dimin-
ished meaning within tribal communities/contexts.
Other forms of respect: Trait-lists, perpetual stereotypes,
statements of superiority, and expectations
I have explained the need for non-Ndee researchers to critically reflect and pay
closer attention to the intricacies of the prayer/blessing when conducting projects
with Ndee communities. However, there are other critical arenas of archaeological-
anthropological research that demand respect through re-education and self-
reflection, including trait-lists, perpetual Ndee stereotypes, and overall cultural
expectations and naivety concerning Ndee communities. A focus on the harmful
and detrimental effects of these issues is much needed, because too often non-Ndee
researchers have come to define Ndee culture and history, which in turn perpetu-
ates a cycle of stagnant research that curtails the Ndee voice. These voices and
experiences can powerfully guide research questions and break down the barriers
of stereotypes that plague understandings of Ndee people, but it takes extreme,
heartfelt commitment and critical self-evaluation underlain by the tenet of respect
for such changes to occur.
Trait-lists
In reference to respect, I also think various general stereotypes and distinctions are
used to justify or clarify research among non-Ndee academics conducting Ndee
archaeological research, clouding abilities to arrive at states of G ozho through
respect. For example, throughout the history of archaeological research in the
U.S., archaeologists have developed “trait-lists” to categorize a range of phenom-
ena, from time to material, to track the cultural development of various
Indigenous communities. For Ndee groups, such classifications range from track-
ing ancestral Athapaskan arrival in the Southwest to academic and professional
literature categorizing Ndee landscape presence as poorly understood or nearly
invisible. However, such focus on the Ndee past through academic and popular
discourse often distorts the history of Apache people (Krall and Vincent, 2007: 53).
As Eva Watt suggests, such a lack of Apache agency in studies of the Apache past
makes it hard to see how Apache people used to live (Watt and Basso, 2004: xvi).
Cusick (1998) points out the problem with using essentialist analytical frameworks
to interpret Indigenous contexts: such frameworks fail to define Indigenous iden-
tities as they are defined by Indigenous peoples themselves. In my own research,
I have seen archaeologists come into Ndee communities armed with a set of traits
learned from texts, classes, and our own initial understandings of these
62 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
communities. These traits could include such terminology as ephemeral, highly
mobile, poorly understood, low visibility, raiding and warfare, organic, and
poor chronology. However, in reality such traits used to identify the Ndee past
often do not adequately include what is important to contemporary Ndee commu-
nities. Such traits need to be re-examined and re-identified in Ndee terms, specif-
ically those that are of crucial importance to contemporary Ndee communities.
Even worse, but in a similar vein to utilizing such perceived trait lists to identify
Ndee culture, are the continued stereotypes applied to Ndee communities. Ongoing
use of such traits might “color popular understandings of indigenous cultures and
identities in ways that set up unrealistic expectations about contemporary native
communities” (Panich, 2013: 106). Re-identification and re-education are appar-
ently and overwhelmingly needed, but why are certain essentialisms, speculations,
and stereotypes continually made? In their cultural affiliation study on White
Mountain Apache lands, Welch and Ferguson point out that their assessment
“focused on categories of evidence not well documented by anthropologists”
including geography, oral tradition, and traditional history (2007: 176). The
focus on such categories is necessary for collaborative archaeological projects to
further work to integrate tribally driven research interests. However, there is also a
need to further embrace and utilize the underpinnings that cohere and drive such
categories as geography, oral tradition, and traditional history, including cultural
tenets outlined in the WMATCHRBMPs, such as respect.
Perpetual stereotypes, statements of superiority, and expectations
In archaeology, the term “stereotype” is not given much thought. In fact, what
archaeologists might think about when they hear the term stereotype is the stereo-
types they themselves endure as archaeologists. Do you dig up dinosaur bones? Do
you own a padded-elbow jacket? Were you inspired by Indiana Jones movies? In
reference to my own experience, stereotypes, expectations, and general naivety take
on deeply embedded forms of systemic and structured knowledge systems resulting
from ongoing legacies of colonialism. Constant assumptions, stereotypical notions,
and naivety are experienced on an everyday basis by Indigenous archaeologists. In
my case, the very much alive public notions of Ndee people as raiding, bloodthirsty
savages, or that all Ndee people can be associated to prominent past Ndee leaders
Geronimo or Cochise, are things that Ndee people face on a daily basis. This first
form of stereotyping is overwhelmingly problematic and has been discussed in
greater detail by other researchers (Mihesuah, 1996). However, there is a second,
often less-obvious form of stereotyping that infiltrates academia and my own iden-
tity as an Indigenous archaeologist. It lurks, it is omnipresent, and it reminds us
that there is a structured power system of archaeology we are navigating as
Indigenous archaeologists. It is something non-Indigenous archaeologists often
cannot comprehend, because it has been with us since our birth as Ndee individ-
uals. What I am talking about is those statements that attempt to continually
Laluk 63
define or treat Ndee community knowledge systems and understandings as second-
ary—those statements that tell us what or who we are, or need, and should be.
Such statements—whether made out of naivety or arrogance—further contrib-
ute to my point that non-Ndee mindsets need to be re-educated in various degrees.
Although researchers might be well-meaning, small statements or even naı̈ve sub-
tleties can have continuous social, cultural, and political implications that stagnate
an archaeology for, with, and by (Nicholas and Andrews, 1997) Indigenous people.
In my mind, such statements or actions parallel the sociocultural and psychological
effects of stereotyping all Native American people. When communities are contin-
ually referred to or thought of in stereotypical ways or through paternalistic state-
ments or thoughts of inequality—“an academic degree makes me an expert on
your culture”—there can be a heightened sense of continued distrust, skepticism,
and questioning one’s own abilities. It seems like Deloria’s statement of “an Indian
being layed low by an anthro” (Deloria, 1969: 86) continually occurs in many ways
due to the same colonial mindset and the unwillingness of researchers to truly
critically examine their own research processes to truly achieve tribally driven
Ndee research. Archaeologists-anthropologists might not want to hear Deloria’s
statement thrown at them again, but even though such recognitions were made
more than 50 years ago, Deloria’s critiques still survive in various ways. Maybe not
as blatant or easily recognizable as during that time, but academic superiority and
the products of such mindsets—initial defined research terminology/goals and
statements such as “I am the expert”—whether through naivety or not, still per-
petuate Deloria’s statement. For example, recently, I was part of a group of Ndee
representatives working with a consulting company in the U.S. Southwest. The
goal of the project was to reinterpret various areas within a mountain range in
southern Arizona that was of ongoing importance to Ndee communities. During
the project there was a recently hired young woman working as the main point of
contact for the land managing agency we were working with. Throughout the
entirety of that component of the project, on various occasions, the woman
referred to herself as an expert on Ndee archaeology of the area. The woman
seemed well-intentioned and overall wanted to do good “collaborative” work,
but I found such statements offensive and unnecessary. Even though the woman
could have learned and researched Ndee occupations in the Southwest or read
about Ndee historical-period presence in the area, standing right next to her
were Ndee elders who have spent years in the same area on similar projects.
They have learned from their families their own Ndee history and it is an inherent
part of their mind, blood, and body. Although probably not intentional, such
statements demonstrate my point about the harmfulness of superiority statements
and learned expectations of a culture. So, knowing what a Ndee wickiup looks like
archaeologically makes you an expert on my culture? In this sense, I feel that such
acts of “saming” or “commensuration”—the power of creating otherness where
the other is not considered an equal—puts Ndee folks in spaces of political and
intellectual inferiority (Hazarika, 2018: 144). As an outsider, attempting to
“equalize” knowledge about one’s culture by asserting that one is an expert
64 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
highlights reverberations of unequal knowledge acknowledgement and marginali-
zation at the practical, theoretical, methodological, political, social, and psycho-
logical levels of the archaeological discipline. By making the Ndee past and present
their own by filtering experiences, beliefs, identities, and culture through familiar,
learned forms of Western practice, including mechanisms of voiced and published
discourse, non-Ndee archaeologists subordinate Ndee survival and existence into a
politics of discourse. This discourse is perpetuated in K-12 schoolbooks, under-
graduate and graduate schools’ required theoretical courses, and often, worse,
through public perceptions of present day Ndee communities. Here, basic respect
in the form of considering such statements should be always be practiced, but the
deeper effects demonstrate a mindset of unequal power cultivated through Western
perceptions and expectations of Ndee culture and history.
These experiences occur not only in archaeological contexts with non-
Indigenous academics, but in the everyday lives of Ndee and Indigenous individ-
uals as well. I have been part of an ongoing reburial project for my tribe for many
years and very recently I had a small crew out at a large Ancestral Pueblo site
preparing the area for future reburial. The area is part of an optional walking tour
associated with my tribe’s tourism activities. While in the field, tourists often would
stop and try to ask some questions. Generally, such questions were not too bad.
Some had undertones of naivety, while others were along the lines of the culture
and history of the area. On a few occasions, however, such questions moved
beyond naivety to arenas of Western expectations and somewhat engrained under-
standings of what, why, and how Native Americans should and need to be. While
I was taking some notes one day, an elderly couple started a conversation with me.
They saw I had a university-affiliated hat on and became interested in my back-
ground. After I gave a brief anecdote about my academic background, the woman
asked, “Is it common for people from your community, other than you, to go to
college?” At first, the desire to be sarcastic almost took over and I wanted to reply,
“No. I am the first one in my tribe ever to go to college,” but I held back and
answered the question. This question struck me, and I began to think of the social,
political, and cultural implications that Native Americans go through that many
non-Native archaeologists-anthropologists don’t have to deal with on an everyday
basis. What if I were white? Would have I been asked that question? What if I had
not gone to school, what would have been her question then? I will return to this
experience shortly, but another experience a week or so later made me equally
upset and contemplative. While I was working in another area of the same site by
myself near the interpretive trail, another couple stopped and started to ask me
some questions. Again, at first the questions were general and easily answerable,
but near the end of the conversation the man asked, “Why don’t people here take
care of their land?” Again, I was somewhat shocked. I know Native American
folks often discuss various stereotypes that perpetuate non-Native American
understandings of Indian country, this being a main one, but why again, I thought,
is that a question that always needs to be asked? Why in this context? I explained
some Native American history and the lack of personnel and monetary support
Laluk 65
many tribes face due to legacies of colonialism. But as they walked away, I felt
somewhat broken down and speculated upon. How are we not taking care of our
land? Do they consider me dirty? Why is this an appropriate question? My point
with these individual experiences is to demonstrate that there is something deeper
that many Indigenous archaeologists have to deal with on an everyday basis that
underlies much of our past. I think such questions have strong ties to a statement
by former White Mountain THPO John Welch in reference to the losses and
harms created by the actions of non-Ndee individuals who exploit and interpret
Ndee culture. Welch points out (2018: 270–271), “I learned that these losses are
experienced by Apaches, on personal and collective levels, as harmful and con-
tinuing results of non-Apache miners, loggers, cowboys, labor contractors, and
researchers looking to Apache people and lands as means for advancing non-
Apache interests.” Welch goes on to state that “the colonial histories of the nine-
teenth and early twentieth centuries continue to translate into daunting suites and
real and pressing problems” (2018: 271). Such a recognition underscores the struc-
ture of the colonial mindset and misunderstandings engrained in the public’s and
non-Ndee researchers’ perceptions of how and what Ndee communities need to and
should be.
Do non-Indigenous archaeologists, especially working in their own communi-
ties, have to deal with such questions? I have heard many complaints from non-
Indigenous archaeologists about being asked if they study dinosaur bones or the
constant probing/inquiries/speculations as to what they are digging up, but do
such questions evoke a sense of dehumanization and reignite hurtful memories
of dealing with such questions one’s whole life, as they do for Native
Americans? Oftentimes Native American individuals get treated differently in var-
ious contexts due to ongoing colonial structures and stereotypical understandings
that often generalize Native American groups. This is something that should
always be considered when attempting to do consultation or collaborative research
with Native American communities. Basic respect is something that morally
should be always a given, but the “archaeological dialect,” which continues to
define Ndee pasts through Western methodologies, research agendas, and misrep-
resentations (see Laluk, 2017; Welch, 1997; Welch, 2017; Welch et al., 2009a;
Welch and Brauchli, 2010; Welch and Riley, 2001; Welch et al., 2009b, for some
exceptions) can be viewed as an act of injustice and misrepresentation. If non-Ndee
researchers do not always consider the political, social, cultural, and psychological
underpinnings of the past and present that exist within such everyday in-field
experiences of Indigenous peoples, then it is very difficult for collaborative archae-
ological projects to evolve and move forward. As a result, narratives are perpet-
uated or created and questions are posed that really do not effectively move
archaeological collaboration with Ndee communities forward in reference to
issues of importance to Ndee communities. It is similar to what Clark (2018:
546–547) suggests in her work with WWII Japanese internment camps in that
such experiences do “not fit easily into the American narrative, and so it is a
story some of the public does not want to hear.” Appropriation, Assimilation,
66 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
Broken Treaties, Extermination, Genocide, Injustice, Land Loss, Murder, Racism,
Relocation, and Trauma are not the types of words archaeologists and the general
public usually deal with and consider on an everyday basis within their under-
standings of Native American communities or within the “archaeological dialect.”
As Preucel and Cipolla (2008: 138) suggest, “In some cases, the language of
archaeology can be outright offensive to indigenous peoples. The manner in which
archaeological terminology represents events, ancestors, and ancestral materials
should be interrogated in the spirit of the postcolonial critique.” I think such
terminology, in some cases, exists due to preconceived notions of certain Native
American groups, such as Ndee communities. As Clark (2018: 546) suggests,
“Disempowered groups often find that key elements of their own experience are
misrepresented or unknown.” Such elements of experience are constantly misrep-
resented or unknown due not only to the limitations of archaeological diction but
to those of categorization as well. Clark (2018: 550) points this out, using one of
the most basic terms in the archaeological dialect, “artifact.” She states that “many
of our theoretical, epistemological, and interpretive tools were forged without
much thought for the present.” Because such terms as “artifact” are “in part
because of their association with archaeology, considered things of the past,” dis-
tinct Native American and other Indigenous meanings beyond structured and
systemic terminological habits used by archaeologists get marginalized through
misinterpretation, lack of consideration, overreliance on non-Indigenous percep-
tions, and failure to fully engage tribal/Indigenous tenets and contemporary rea-
soning beyond such terms. As San Ildefonso Pueblo tribal citizen and
archaeologist Joseph Aguilar states in referring to his homeland, “What archae-
ologists call artifacts are just part of the landscape here. It was part of our history,
and it was also just part of growing up here. It wasn’t until I got to college and
graduate school that I was exposed to a different way of understanding the mesa
through archaeology” (Sanchez, 2017). Aguilar’s statement parallels not only my
point about problems with archaeological terminology, but issues of interpretation
and understanding as well, which emphasize Ball’s point (2002: 468) that “different
cultures have very different metaphysical underpinnings to their intellectual sys-
tems.” As Indigenous archaeologists, being part of our communities contributes to
our epistemological and ontological underpinnings in ways that go beyond any
type of archaeological meaning-making or reasoning. As White Mountain Apache
Cultural Resources Director and NAGPRA Coordinator Ramon Riley has stated,
“you have to be Apache to know.” Here, I think because such perpetual experi-
ential and hermeneutical injustice continues to adversely affect Ndee communities,
archaeologists need to work to inform students and even the general public about
not only problems of archaeological terminology in collaborative contexts, but
also the inter-workings and relationships of colonialism, ongoing stereotypes,
and issues with the “archaeological dialect” that continue to plague Native
American communities.
Ultimately, recognition of Ndee cultural dynamics beyond perpetually biased
interpretation will not only contribute to better understandings of the Ndee past
Laluk 67
but also to overall well-being by foregrounding Ndee perceptions. I feel this section
highlighting my own personal in-field experiences is needed in discussions of
respect—as Ndee cultural tenets. Such in-field experiences ground the structural
and systemic nature of ongoing non-interpretations and thought processes in the
contemporary real-world experiences of an Ndee tribal member trained as an
archaeologist.
Place-based reasoning: An Ndee path forward
As an Ndee researcher and tribal member, embracing the Ndee past through pro-
tection and respect should not require me to internalize the Westernized method-
ology and the various non-Ndee vehicles used to interpret these systems, including
the archaeological dialect and terminology that may not usefully comport with
Ndee understandings of who we are. Therefore, I think an Ndee informal theory of
the mind, underscoring “wisdom,” might assist archaeological researchers to crit-
ically evaluate their own learned understandings of Ndee culture and history and
move beyond the use of Western mechanisms of knowledge production to interpret
the Ndee past and present.
In discussing his own struggle with understanding wisdom in Ndee contexts,
Keith Basso (1996) delineates three mental conditions: (1) smoothness of mind;
(2) resilience of mind; and (3) steadiness of mind. The first component—smooth-
ness of mind—conveys a sense of cleared space or an area free of obstructions.
“Like cleared plots of ground, smooth minds are unobstructed—unclustered and
unfettered—a quality which permits them to observe and reason with penetrating
clarity” (Basso, 1996: 131). “Skeptical of outward appearances, smooth minds are
able to look through them and beyond them to detect obscured realities and
hidden possibilities” (Basso, 1996: 131). Along the lines of the tenet of respect, if
archaeologists can approach archaeological research with Ndee communities with
an understanding that learned textbook perceptions/cultural traits/outward
appearances of Ndee folks might be, at times, obscured realities that do not under-
score true paths to wisdom and contemporary community well-being, then poten-
tial “best practices” can be truly put into practice. Applying such a practical theory
of the mind to places/sites can potentially create site-specific mental conditions in
order to avoid specific harmful events or threatening circumstances to Ndee com-
munities. Such site-specific mental conditions leading to a “smoothness of mind”
might be best expressed in utilizing the Ndee language to refer to places like
Grasshopper Pueblo, where irresponsible and unethical in-field practices occurred
in the past. Because Ndee individuals continue to learn from and are morally and
socially informed by topographical place-names, perhaps creating an “Ndee
archaeological-anthropological dialect” in reference to place-names associated
with past archaeological activities may help to make non-Ndee researchers working
on Ndee lands become wiser. Among the many place-names mentioned in Wisdom
Sits in Places, Basso refers to “Trail Goes Down Between Two Hills” in his expla-
nation of an Ndee place associated with the moral stories of Old Man Owl and how
68 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
it related to a previous episode with Cibecue community member Talbert Paxon.
By hearing Mr. Dudley Patterson say only, “So! You’ve returned from Trail Goes
Down Between Two Hills,” Mr. Paxon knew right away that he had to alter his
actions and conduct in his own life accordingly (Basso, 1996: 117–119).
Along such lines of reasoning from an Ndee perspective in reference to meaning
and interpretation, would it help for Ndee individuals to create a place-name cat-
egorical list of areas on and off Ndee trust lands that are being threatened or have
been disturbed and destroyed by archaeological activities of the past? Do we need
to refer to disturbed places (Grasshopper) with such names as “place where trash
was disrespectfully left,” “Kude doo whaa dagonłsi˛h dahgo ch’ınágod eh
e adagozlaa
leR ,” to make archaeologists become wise and hopefully smooth of mind in the Ndee
sense? Of course, such places as Grasshopper remain extremely significant to Ndee
people. We have our own experiences, stories, and place-names to refer to such
areas that remind us how to act and live right within our own communities.
However, an Ndee-based place-name dialect in the Ndee language referring to
past archaeological practices better informs non-Ndee researchers of the legacies
of irresponsible and unethical activities, the hurt, and the sociocultural
consequences Ndee communities deal with as a result of such past practices.
Hearing place-based phrases expressed in the Ndee language empowers Ndee sov-
ereignty and self-determination through assertion of past unethical behaviors in
the Ndee language. Such expressions of sovereignty may instill much-needed crit-
ical reflection in non-Ndee mindsets that may lead to a “smoothness of mind.”
Moreover, in-field, direct experiences with places and associated names collectively
offer not only critical reflexive thought, but also glimpses into the cultural, polit-
ical, and social consequences of past project activities that non-Ndee researchers
need to understand before any type of research can be conducted. As Basso (1996:
109) suggests, “relationships to places are lived most often in the company of other
peoples, and it is on these communal occasions—when places are sensed together—
that native views of the physical world become accessible to strangers.” Of course,
never can all individual and community experiences of what it means to be Ndee
and how such past archaeological practices continue to harm Ndee people—along
with the ongoing stereotypes about, struggles of, damages to, and intergenera-
tional pain in Ndee culture—be presented in contemporary “place-name” form
to assist non-Ndee researchers to become wiser by achieving a smoothness of
mind according to the Ndee worldview. Hidden possibilities at many times are
hidden within plain sight, and it often takes time, avid listening, experience, and
critical reflection to learn and become “wiser” in the Ndee sense, and to apply such
wisdom to expressions of G o in all arenas of cultural heritage management and
ozh
overall understandings of Ndee communities. I have touched upon a tenet of Ndee
cultural heritage resource management that may assist researchers approaching the
past to better understand contemporary Ndee concerns and values. Various forms
of respect are practiced by tribal nations in the U.S., but recognizing and applying
such implicit concepts to real-world, everyday CHR management, building capac-
ity, and maximizing benefits for tribal communities is still evolving.
Laluk 69
For archaeologists to attempt to meet these concerns within the realities of
today’s processes, there needs to be some type of management plan that addresses
such tenets as respect in greater detail that identifies tribal interests and priorities.
The White Mountain Apache Tribe Cultural Heritage Resource Best Management
Practices provides a useful tool for non-Ndee researchers to address contemporary
archaeological practices affecting traditional Ndee lands, but researchers need to
be reflexive and contemplate how research practices can embrace the “respect”
tenet and achieve a “smoothness of the mind” while at the same time allowing
Ndee communities to retain a sense of G ozho—balance, harmony, and beauty.
Conclusion
In discussing the Best Cultural Heritage Stewardship Practices (BSPs), Welch et al.
(2009) suggest, “The BSPs may never be perfected as vital links among ancient
inheritance, current land management, and desired features, but the effort to bring
Ndee values and interests to bear on these issues and concerns has facilitated
important examinations and revitalizations of Ndee philosophies and practices.”
As an Ndee tribal member I think such links are perfected in the minds of many
Ndee individuals and communities; however, following this statement, what is
important is revitalizing such philosophies and practices in Ndee terms to meet
the needs of the present and future. Moreover, non-Ndee researchers need to
embrace and wholeheartedly accept the critical need to educate beyond the stan-
dard and generalization of what non-Ndee researchers and the general public
expect Ndee history and culture to be. As Nicholas (2006: 350) suggests, “paying
closer attention to traditional knowledge may lead to challenges of those theories
or at least offer alternative explanations or greater awareness of non-Western ways
of thinking about landscapes.” However, as I have argued, such a statement can be
taken further to critically engage the whole spectrum and inner dynamics of not
only the cultural tenet of Respect but also the underlying, pervasive notions of
what is best for tribal and Indigenous communities and/or what they should or
need to be through a Westernized lens. Such pervasive notions, including stereo-
types, misrepresentations, and false expectations, have resulted directly from colo-
nial practices. As Eason and Robbins (2012: 19) state, “Colonization has forced us
toward a fixation on the knowledge that is produced outside of ourselves and our
immediate connection to others.” In my own dissertation-writing, I struggled to
get beyond such knowledge created beyond myself and my identity as an Ndee
tribal member. Why did I have to live and embrace such knowledge systems which
defined archaeological method, theory, and categorization of what the Ndee past
needs to be—defined it as a “diagnostic trait-list” existing in the archaeological
dialect that was not inherently my own, which would instead be defined through
my ancestors, clan affiliation, blood, family, language, and land? I knew what was
best for myself and my tribe, but why do I have to explain my research in lay,
Westernized theoretical terms, defined by dead white guys who had never been
close to my reservation lands or could never understand what it is to be Ndee (e.g.
70 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
Bourdieu, Foucault, James, Marx), as is the norm across the board in graduate
core theoretical archaeology programs throughout the U.S.? More specifically,
why do I have to show how Ndee theories and institutions defined by such
tenets as respect since time immemorial comport with or parallel such
Westernized frameworks? As Wilson (2008: 127) states, “there should be no
need for us to constantly justify, validate or change our work in order to fit foreign
research paradigms.” Here is the underlying problem. If something does not fit, it
does not do any good trying to make it fit. Going back to my own in-field expe-
riences with the general public and even other professional archaeologists: they too
need to continue to challenge, question, and critically reflect on the usefulness of
theory, perpetual stereotypical notions and questions, and intellectual superiority
statements before engaging in collaborative work with Native American and
Indigenous communities.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the White Mountain and Mescalero Tribal Historic Preservation
Offices and affiliated program managers and staff, particularly Mark Altaha, Arden
Comanche, Holly Houghton, and Ramon Riley. I would also like to thank various reviewers
of the draft manuscript, including Chip Colwell, Michelle Leleivre, Robert Preucel, Kerry
Thompson, and Rebecca Tsosie.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, author-
ship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication
of this article.
References
Anyon R, Ferguson TJ, Jackson L, et al. (1997) Native American oral tradition and archae-
ology: Issues of structure, relevance, and respect. In: Swidler N, Dongoske KE, Anyon
R, et al. (eds) Native Americans and Archaeologists: Stepping Stones to Common Ground.
Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press, pp. 77–87.
Atalay S (2008a) Multivocality and indigenous archaeologies. In: Habu J, Matsunaga JM
and Fawcett C (eds) Evaluating Multiple Narratives: Beyond Nationalist, Colonialist,
Imperialist Archaeologies. New York: Springer, pp. 29–44.
Atalay S (2008b) Pedagogy of decolonization: Advancing archaeological practice through
education. In: Silliman SW (ed) Collaborating at the Trowel’s Edge: Teaching
and Learning in Indigenous Archaeology. Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, pp.
123–144.
Atalay S, Clauss LR, McGuire RH, et al. (eds) (2014) Transforming Archaeology: Activist
Practices and Prospects. London: Routledge.
Laluk 71
Ball MW (2002) “People speaking silently to themselves”: An examination of Keith Basso’s
philosophical speculations on “sense of place” in Apache cultures. The American Indian
Quarterly 26(3): 460–478.
Basso KH (1996) Wisdom Sits in Places. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.
Cajete G (2004) Philosophy of Native science. In: Waters A (ed) American Indian Thought:
Philosophical Essays. Malden, MA: Blackwell, pp. 45–57.
Cast RL, Gonzalez B and Perttula TK (2010) Claiming respect for ancestral remains:
Repatriation and the Caddo Nation of Oklahoma. Anthropology News 51(3): 7–8.
Christen K (2007) Following the Nyinkka: Relations of respect and obligations to act in the
collaborative work of aboriginal cultural centers. Museum Anthropology 30(2): 101–124.
Clark B (2018) Artifacts, contested histories, and other archaeological hotspots. Historical
Archaeology 52(3): 544–552.
Cusick JG (1998) Historiography of acculturation: An evaluation of concepts and their
application in archaeology. In: Cusick JG (ed) Studies in Culture Contact: Interaction,
Culture Change, and Archaeology. Carbondale: Southern Illinois Center for
Archaeological Investigation, pp. 126–145.
Deloria V (1969) Custer Died for Your Sins: An Indian Manifesto. New York: Macmillan.
Dowdall KM and Parrish OO (2003) A meaningful disturbance of the earth. Journal of
Social Archaeology 3(1): 99–133.
Eason EA and Robbins R (2012) Walking in beauty: An American Indian perspective on
social justice. Counseling and Values 57(1): 18–23.
Ferguson TJ (1996) Native Americans and the practice of archaeology. Annual Review of
Anthropology 25(1): 63–79.
Gah’nahvah/Ya Ti’ (2013) Yavapai-Apache nation signs historic Apache Alliance document.
Gah’nahvah/YaTi, 1–2 June.
Gah’nahvah/Ya Ti’ 2013 Yavapai-Apache Nation signs hjistoric Apache Alliance docu-
ment. Gah’nahvah/Ya Ti’, Newspaper of the Yavapai-Apache Nation, 1-2 June.
Gonzalez S (2016) Indigenous values and methods in archaeological practice: Low-impact
archaeology through the Kashaya Pomo Interpretive Trail Project. American Antiquity
81(3): 533–549.
Hazarika U (2018) ‘The earth cannot let go of us’: Analysing ontological conflicts. Ethnos
83(1): 136–155.
Krall A and Vincent RE (2007) Shı Keyaa: The Western Apache homeland and archaeology of
the Mogollon Rim. Technical Report No. 2007-03, Desert Archaeology Inc., Tucson, AZ.
Krmpotich C (2012) Post-colonial or pre-colonial: Indigenous values and repatriation. In:
Hendry J and Fitznor L (eds) Anthropologists, Indigenous Scholars, and the Research
Endeavour: Seeking Bridges towards Mutual Respect. New York: Routledge, pp. 162–170.
Kuwanwisiwma LJ (2008) Collaboration means equality, respect, and reciprocity: A con-
versation about archaeology and the Hopi tribe. In: Colwell-Chanthaphonh C and
Ferguson TJ (eds) Collaboration in Archaeological Practice: Engaging Descendant
Communities. Lanham, MD: AltaMira Press, pp. 151–170.
Laluk NC (2017) The indivisibility of land and mind: Indigenous knowledge and collabo-
rative archaeology within Apache contexts. Journal of Social Archaeology 17(1): 92–112.
McGuire RH (1992) Archeology and the first Americans. American Anthropologist 94(4):
816–836.
Mihesuah DA (1996) American Indians: Stereotypes and Realities. Atlanta, GA: Clarity
Press.
72 Journal of Social Archaeology 21(1)
Nicholas GP (2006) Decolonizing the archaeological landscape. The American Indian
Quarterly 30(3&4): 350–380.
Nicholas GP and Andrews TD (1997) Indigenous archaeology in the postmodern world. In:
Nicholas GP and Andrews TD (eds) At a Crossroads: Archaeology and First Peoples in
Canada. Burnaby, BC: Archaeology Press, Simon Fraser University, pp. 1–18.
Panich L (2013) Archaeologies of persistence: Reconsidering the legacies of colonialism in
Native North America. American Antiquity 78(1): 105–122.
Preucel R and Cipolla C (2008) Indigenous and postcolonial archaeologies. In: Liebmann M
and Rizvi UZ (eds) Archaeology and the Postcolonial Critique. Lanham, MD: AltaMira
Press, pp. 129–140.
Reid JJ and Whittlesey S (2005) Thirty Years into Yesterday: A History of Archaeology at
Grasshopper Pueblo. Tucson: The University of Arizona Press.
Sanchez C (2017) A refuge from the Reconquista: Joseph Aguilar on mesatop archaeology.
Pasatiempo, 27 January. Available at: [Link]/pasatiempo/a-
refuge-from-the-reconquista-joseph-aguilar-on-mesatop-archaeology/article_5c7bb04c-
[Link] (accessed 10 July 2020).
Silliman S (2009) Change and continuity, practice and memory: Native American persis-
tence in colonial New England. American Antiquity 74(2): 211–230.
Smith C and Wobst M (eds) (2005) Indigenous Archaeologies: Decolonizing Archaeological
Theory and Practice. New York: Routledge.
Spoerl PM (2001) Determination of eligibility for the National Register of Historic Places,
Mt. Graham (Dzil Nchaa Si’An). On file, Coronado National Forest Safford Ranger
District, AZ.
Teague LS (2007) Respect for the dead, respect for the living. In: Cassman V, Odegaard N
and Powell J (eds) Human Remains: Guide for Museums and Academic Institutions.
Lanham, MD: AltaMira Press, pp. 245–259.
Trigger BG (1980) Archaeology and the image of the American Indian. American Antiquity
45(4): 662–676.
Watt E and Basso K (2004) Don’t Let the Sun Step over You: A White Mountain Apache
Family Life, 1860–1975. Tucson: The University of Arizona Press.
Welch JR (1997) White eyes’ lies and the battle for Dził Nchaa Si’An. American Indian
Quarterly 21(1): 75–109.
Welch JR (2000) The White Mountain Apache Tribe Heritage Program: Origins, opera-
tions, and challenges. In: Dongoske KE, Aldenderfer M and Doehner K (eds) Working
Together: Native Americans and Archaeologists. Washington, DC: Society for American
Archaeology, pp. 67–83.
Welch JR (ed) (2004) White Mountain Apache Tribe cultural heritage resource best manage-
ment practices. On file, White Mountain Apache Tribe Historic Preservation Office, Fort
Apache, AZ.
Welch JR (2017) Earth, wind, and fire: Pinal Apaches, miners, and genocide in Central
Arizona, 1859–1874. SAGE Open 7(4): 1-19.
Welch JR (2018) Sovereignty-driven research. In: Herman RDK (ed) Giving Back: Research
and Reciprocity in Indigenous Settings. Oregon State University Press, pp. 264 -282.
Welch JR, Altaha MT, Hoerig KA, et al. (2009a) Best cultural heritage stewardship prac-
tices by and for the White Mountain Apache Tribe. Conservation and Management of
Archaeological Sites 11(2): 148–160.
Laluk 73
Welch JR and Brauchli RC (2010) “Subject to the right of the Secretary of the Interior”: The
White Mountain Apache reclamation of the Fort Apache and Theodore Roosevelt
School Historic District. Wicazo Sa Review 25(1): 47–73.
Welch JR and Ferguson TJ (2007) Putting patria back into repatriation: Cultural affiliation
assessment of White Mountain Apache tribal lands. Journal of Social Archaeology 7(2):
171–198.
Welch JR and Riley R (2001) Reclaiming land and spirit in the western Apache homeland.
The American Indian Quarterly 25(1): 5–12.
Welch JR, Riley R and Nixon M (2009b) Discretionary desecration: Dził nchaa Si an
(Mount Graham) and federal agency decisions affecting American Indian sacred sites.
American Indian Culture and Research Journal 33(4): 29–68.
Williams SL (2012) Smudging the book: The role of cultural authority in tribal historical
narratives and revitalization at Rocky Boy. PhD Thesis, University of Iowa, USA.
Wilson S (2008) Research is Ceremony: Indigenous Research Methods. Black Point, NS:
Fernwood Publishing.
Author biography
Nicholas C Laluk is a member of the White Mountain Apache Tribe in east-central
Arizona. He is currently an Assistant Professor in the Department of
Anthropology at Northern Arizona University.