Category: Research Values

  • #DNAIS

    This past week, I had the opportunity to attend the National Endowment of the Humanities-sponsored workshop on Digital Native American and Indigenous Studies (thanks, NEH!). We were a diverse group of about thirty attendees representing tribal governments, tribal museums, universities, and university archives. Over the course of the week, we looked at many sample projects (including Mukurtu!) and asked questions about intellectual property rights, the ethics of digitizing content that may be sensitive to indigenous communities, and the logistics of creating healthy partnerships based on collaboration, conversation, and community.

    In this process, we also attempted to define Native Studies and the Digital Humanities to see where they may support one another. I see NAIS is an interpersonal, textual, and digital space for me to ask questions about identity, belonging, history, policies, economics, arts, religion, education, culture, geography, and relationships. As my colleague, Jenny Davis, notes, NAIS can include any work that centers Indigenous epistemologies. For me, Digital Humanities are the online projects people create to manifest their ongoing question-asking and the digital tools they develop to help them identify answers or further questions. So, I don’t think this is an issue of NAIS supporting DH or DH supporting NAIS; rather, like most things, I see them engaging in a relationship that in turn creates new things.

    My favorite DNAIS projects of the week

    Tomaquag Museum: the site of the only museum entirely dedicated to telling the story of Rhode Island’s Indigenous Peoples

    Dawnland Voices 2.0: an online magazine featuring indigenous writers from New England

    Kim-Wait/Eisenberg Collection at Amherst: an incredible collection of over 2000 Native-authored books (Native authors — if you’ve written something and they don’t have it, they’ll buy it!)

    Gibagadinamaagoom: a site dedicated to preserving the Anishinaabemowin language for future generations of speakers

    Mukurtu CMS: an online platform that allows Native communities to set strict access standards based on locally defined cultural protocols

    Sites that build on Mukurtu:

    Plateau Peoples’ Web Portal

    MIRA Canning Stock Route Project Archive

    Sustainable Heritage Network

    Project I’m Ready

    Naken-Natmen Project

    Sípnuuk

    Sq’éwlets

    Musqueam Fetzer Institute 

    My thoughts about the future of Digital NAIS 

    If you just wanted to see what cool new projects I was going to share, stop reading here. If you want to hear some of my thoughts about the future of DNAIS, please keep reading below.

    I believe the most important factor in the future of Digital NAIS will be the degree to which DH chooses to recognize the inherent assets in Native communities and to build relationships as equals. People are going to need a better understanding of who does work in DNAIS and a better understanding of what each party seeks to get out of any collaborative DNAIS relationship.

    I want to take a moment here to address some concerning misconceptions that I’ve noticed recently. Too often, I’ve heard conversations about DH and Native communities make one (or more) of the following mistakes:

    Pitfall #1: Assuming Native communities are devoid of technology and need the help of an “expert.”

    Some of the comments I’ve heard from DH programmers and theorizers have held up digital tools as “salvation” to preserve indigenous stories and traditions. This dangerous salvage-anthropology way of thinking propagates the myths that:

    1. Technology is new to Native people;
    2. Cultures are static and need to be preserved in a set form;
    3. Native peoples are dying out; and
    4. Native people are incapable of engaging in their own forms of tradition without external “help.”

    Do I really need to explain why none of these are true?

    Pitfall #2: Believing that all people address the fundamental DH principles of openness and access in the same way.

    One of the defining principles of DH since its foundation has been the belief in open access to digital content for everyone. On the surface, this seems like a great goal, one that may even be in line with many social justice movements. Within DNAIS, however, this idea ignores that many of the items which museums, archives, and collections now hold (and want to digitize for public use) were acquired through the very kind of salvage anthropology that I referred to in Pitfall #1. Some of these objects, photographs, and personal papers were never meant for public distribution. Of these, some are personal family documents and others are intended for ceremonial purposes only. Making such items public access should be understood as a choice, not as a default.

    When I hear non-Natives argue that such items should be publicly accessible just for the sake of the principle of public access, it makes me wonder about whether they are insensitive to the beliefs of Native communities or whether they just privilege their own curiosity over the priorities of other people.

    Side note — due to intellectual property laws, many of these taken items are now in the public domain, a status from which they cannot be removed. Check out Murkurtu’s TK labels for one possible solution to this problem.

    Pitfall #3: Thinking that Native communities are all rural reservation communities with no access to digital resources like computers, social media, or the internet.

    Sure, this may be true in some places. But, by and large, Indigenous communities are pretty digitally savvy. Just ask the programmers at Ogoki Learning Systems, the makers of the video game Never Alone, writer and video game designer Elizabeth LaPensee, photo and video producer Ryan Comfort (I love his project The Ways), or any number of Native bloggers (my favorites are Adrienne Keene, Debbie Reese, Leslie Locklear, and Jessica Metcalfe). These folks (and many others) are doing amazing work. DH folks — look for the assets first. Let’s not assume that tribal communities are deficit in technological skills or machinery.

    Pitfall #4: Operating based on the idea that the “community” and the “DH-ers” are two ends of a binary.

    As evidenced above, many of the folks doing digital work are Native. I’ve often heard that “scholars” and “Native people” should work together, as though someone cannot be both scholar and Native. There are too many Native scholars working across a variety of fields to list here, so suffice it to say if you don’t know about them, you’re not looking.

    Last thoughts 

    If you’ve gotten this far and you’re not sure what to do next, I’d recommend you turn to LaDonna Harris’ article on the 4 R’s: relationship, responsibility, reciprocity, redistribution. I’m not an expert, and I’m certainly still learning about what mutually beneficial collaboration looks like. I have learned this much, though: Engaging in projects that deal with Native communities automatically puts you in a position of responsibility. You’re likely going to benefit in some way (economically, professionally, intellectually) from your work; it only seems right that you would attempt to redistribute some of what you reap.

  • The Importance of Seeing Each Other

    I love the Native American and Indigenous Studies Association annual conference. I love that it seems to be guided by LaDonna Harris’ “four R’s” (relationship, responsibility, reciprocity, redistribution) and that at NAISA, I don’t have to explain my research principles or who I am. For example, in May of this year, we had approximately 700 people come to Honolulu for a week of learning and engaging in community service. That’s right. People came to a conference in Hawai‘i and intentionally gave up their time on the beach to give back to the communities whose land we were on. I also love NAISA for its incredible diversity of scholarship, of tribal nations, of geography, of career stages. At NAISA, I have found mentors and colleagues, and each year is like a reunion of people I consider my extended family.

    13239123_618187621681231_610677038820944746_n
    Louellyn White, Sarah Shear, Clyde Ellis, and me right after our NAISA 2016 panel on boarding school memories, school curriculum, and museum preservation
    Our day of service at Paepae o He'eia, photo by Marie Alohalani Brown
    Our day of service in Hawai’i at Paepae o He’eia, photo by Marie Alohalani Brown

    This week, I’m at a new research conference for me. Since I’m new, I do have to explain myself, my tribal affiliation, the historical and legal context for my research. I also feel a bit like an outsider here — I assumed that a conference focused on race and education would include a significant focus on Native peoples, but I’m one of only a handful of people engaged in scholarship with indigenous communities. Initially, it felt pretty isolating.

    Then Dr. Daniel Solórzano gave a keynote address to the graduate students in which he discussed the importance of micro-affirmations as a way to make people feel acknowledged and valued. Micro-affirmations can be any small gesture, verbal or non-verbal, which send the message of “I see you. You have value in this space.” It is our responsibility to our relations to lift them up and support them in spaces where Native people are underrepresented. Within the context of academic conferences, this is how we build up and support a network of Native change-agents in the Academy.

    Some of the organizers of the conference recognize the importance of trying to acknowledge and include Native peoples. Today’s sessions opened with a welcome and blessing from Kiowa and Arapaho elder John Emhoolah. A conference organizer helped introduce me to a Tohono O’odham elder (who worked on the Turtle Mountain ICC case!) and a Native grad student who is developing culturally-based writing projects for Native high schoolers. Meeting these Native people at a conference where we are far in the minority made me feel acknowledged, included, valued. I am grateful for them, and for the new relationships we’re building. Maybe I don’t feel like such an outsider after all.

    Baamaapii…

  • Getting Started

    Three weeks ago, I passed my comprehensive exams. Hooray! This huge moment felt (as my advisor had hoped it would) anticlimactic. Up one hill to climb to the next, right? Thankfully, grad students farther in the process than I had warned me to take a minute to celebrate and then to regroup before taking on the next hurdle… the dissertation prospectus.

    At first, I thought the prospectus would be no big deal. For my department, it’s only 12-15 pages  and most of the content I had already thought through. My first draft, though, was nearly 19 double-spaced pages! I felt swamped by the pressure to lay out my research plan for the next 2-3 years. This is the set-up for the next major phase of my life, and it’s only supposed to be 12-15 pages??? Brevity really is the soul of wit, I guess (at least in American Studies).

    Building up to the prospectus, I didn’t realize how much re-examining I would feel the need to do before submitting it to my committee. I know that the prospectus is ultimately just a draft, a stepping stone before beginning a research process that will inevitably shift as I go along. What I want, though, is a solid compass as the foundation for my work moving forward. I’ve figured out some of my guiding ideas (influenced in large part by Amy, Randi, Christina, and Teryn at UNC’s American Indian Center and my Native Leadership Institute cohort), but many are still in the works — I’d love your thoughts about what else I should be thinking about in this prep phase.

    Here are the basics:

    1. RESPECT: Produce something accessible.

      As you already know, I was a public school teacher. I want my research to be accessible and engaging to other public school teachers, administrators, staff, interested community members, and researchers. To me, researching something that impacts a community and then not making it accessible to them feels hugely disrespectful.

      Respect also means listening and responding to tribal community members’ needs and wants at every step of the process. I see myself as neither more in charge nor more capable than the people with whom I work. Quite the opposite — they are far more knowledgeable and skilled in many areas than I will ever be. I see myself as an accompaniment, a backstage technician who follows the wishes of the actual director and actors on stage. If this work really is about supporting tribal sovereignty (which it is, in my mind), then researching respectfully means they get to guide the work.

    2. RESPONSIBILITY: Produce something that is useful.

      A faculty member recently told me, “Think about how your dissertation will serve you in the future.” I get that. I know on some level that it’s important. But I’m way more interested in how my research can benefit others. Since I’m looking at federal education policy, that means figuring out what tribal governments and the U.S. Department of Ed might want me to provide for them (acknowledging that, in some instances, those interests might conflict with each other and/or with the goals of my committee).

      It also means fulfilling my responsibilities to those who supported me in getting to this phase of my work. Thanks to Adrienne Keene for summing up my thoughts on fulfilling our responsibilities to our communities.

    3. RECIPROCITY: The process matters as much as the product.

      If my work is really going to be decolonizing, I’ve got to pay attention to the ways in which the labor of creating my dissertation can disrupt and re-write existing power dynamics. Within my initial locus of control, that means working against the historically exploitative nature of research in Native communities. Still figuring out exactly what this looks like on the ground, but first and foremost it means committing to listen and act in ways responsive to the desires of the communities with whom I work.

      Also, finding ways to pay those collaborators who agree to work with me. I know some people think this somehow invalidates the reliability of the information you get, but I disagree. People are providing you with their time and energy. You should compensate them for it.

    4. A COMMITMENT TO NATION-BUILDING. There are so many amazing things to celebrate in Indian Country right now. I am continually inspired by the work of people like Adrienne Keene, Jessica Metcalfe, Amanda Blackhorse, Dahkota Kicking Bear Brown, Tara Houska, Kyle Mays, and the folks at CNAY, WHIAIANE, and whoever keeps the People’s Dictionary running so I can keep working on my anishinaabemowin skills. Native nations are rising again, reclaiming their histories, languages, educations, environments, land bases, economies, legal structures, representations, and contemporary identities. There is no neutral work in American Indian Studies — either your work helps or it hurts. I’m committed to make sure my research does the former and supports the needs of tribes as they build capacity and invest in their futures.

    That’s it for now, and I’d love to hear your thoughts! Baamaapi,

    Meredith

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