How humans became so dependent on things and how this need has grown dangerously out of control.   Over three million years ago, our ancient ancestors realized that rocks could be broken into sharp-edged objects for slicing meat, making the first knives. This discovery resulted in a good meal, and eventually changed the fate of our species and our planet.   With So Much Stuff, archaeologist Chip Colwell sets out to investigate why humankind went from self-sufficient primates to nonstop shoppers, from needing nothing to needing everything. Along the way, he uncovers spectacular and strange points around the world—an Italian cave with the world’s first known painted art, a Hong Kong skyscraper where a priestess channels the gods, and a mountain of trash that rivals the Statue of Liberty. Through these examples, Colwell shows how humanity took three leaps that led to stuff becoming inseparable from our lives, inspiring a love affair with things that may lead to our downfall. Now, as landfills brim and oceans drown in trash, Colwell issues a timely call to reevaluate our relationship with the things that both created and threaten to undo our overstuffed planet.  

Who owns the past and the objects that physically connect us to history? And who has the right to decide this ownership, particularly when the objects are sacred or, in the case of skeletal remains, human? Is it the museums that care for the objects or the communities whose ancestors made them? These questions are at the heart of Plundered Skulls and Stolen Spirits, an unflinching insider account by a leading curator who has spent years learning how to balance these controversial considerations. Five decades ago, Native American leaders launched a crusade to force museums to return their sacred objects and allow them to rebury their kin. Today, hundreds of tribes use the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act to help them recover their looted heritage from museums across the country. As senior curator of anthropology at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science, Chip Colwell has navigated firsthand the questions of how to weigh the religious freedom of Native Americans against the academic freedom of scientists and whether the emptying of museum shelves elevates human rights or destroys a common heritage. This book offers his personal account of the process of repatriation, following the trail of four objects as they were created, collected, and ultimately returned to their sources: a sculpture that is a living god, the scalp of a massacre victim, a ceremonial blanket, and a skeleton from a tribe considered by some to be extinct. These specific stories reveal a dramatic process that involves not merely obeying the law, but negotiating the blurry lines between identity and morality, spirituality and politics. Things, like people, have biographies. Repatriation, Colwell argues, is a difficult but vitally important way for museums and tribes to acknowledge that fact--and heal the wounds of the past while creating a respectful approach to caring for these rich artifacts of history.

Who owns the past and the objects that physically connect us to history? And who has the right to decide this ownership, particularly when the objects are sacred or, in the case of skeletal remains, human? Is it the museums that care for the objects or the communities whose ancestors made them? These questions are at the heart of Plundered Skulls and Stolen Spirits, an unflinching insider account by a leading curator who has spent years learning how to balance these controversial considerations. Five decades ago, Native American leaders launched a crusade to force museums to return their sacred objects and allow them to rebury their kin. Today, hundreds of tribes use the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act to help them recover their looted heritage from museums across the country. As senior curator of anthropology at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science, Chip Colwell has navigated firsthand the questions of how to weigh the religious freedom of Native Americans against the academic freedom of scientists and whether the emptying of museum shelves elevates human rights or destroys a common heritage. This book offers his personal account of the process of repatriation, following the trail of four objects as they were created, collected, and ultimately returned to their sources: a sculpture that is a living god, the scalp of a massacre victim, a ceremonial blanket, and a skeleton from a tribe considered by some to be extinct. These specific stories reveal a dramatic process that involves not merely obeying the law, but negotiating the blurry lines between identity and morality, spirituality and politics. Things, like people, have biographies. Repatriation, Colwell argues, is a difficult but vitally important way for museums and tribes to acknowledge that fact and heal the wounds of the past while creating a respectful approach to caring for these rich artifacts of history.

This book is about the tangled relationship between Native peoples and archaeologists in the American Southwest. Even as this relationship has become increasingly significant for both 'real world' archaeological practice and studies in the history of anthropology, no other single book has synthetically examined how Native Americans have shaped archaeological practice in the Southwest - and, how archaeological practice has shaped Native American communities. From oral traditions to repatriations to disputes over sacred sites, the next generation of archaeologists (as much as the current generation) needs to grapple with the complex social and political history of the Southwest's Indigenous communities, the values and interests those communities have in their own cultural legacies, and how archaeological science has impacted and continues to impact Indian country.

This book is about the tangled relationship between Native peoples and archaeologists in the American Southwest. Even as this relationship has become increasingly significant for both 'real world' archaeological practice and studies in the history of anthropology, no other single book has synthetically examined how Native Americans have shaped archaeological practice in the Southwest - and, how archaeological practice has shaped Native American communities. From oral traditions to repatriations to disputes over sacred sites, the next generation of archaeologists (as much as the current generation) needs to grapple with the complex social and political history of the Southwest's Indigenous communities, the values and interests those communities have in their own cultural legacies, and how archaeological science has impacted and continues to impact Indian country.

In recent years, archaeologists and Native American communities have struggled to find common ground even though more than a century ago a man of Seneca descent raised on New York's Cattaraugus Reservation, Arthur C. Parker, joined the ranks of professional archaeology. Until now, Parker's life and legacy as the first Native American archaeologist have been neither closely studied nor widely recognized. At a time when heated debates about the control of Native American heritage have come to dominate archaeology, Parker's experiences form a singular lens to view the field's tangled history and current predicaments with Indigenous peoples.
In Inheriting the Past, Chip Colwell-Chanthaphonh examines Parker's winding career path and asks why it has taken generations for Native peoples to follow in his footsteps. Closely tracing Parker's life through extensive archival research, Colwell-Chanthaphonh explores how Parker crafted a professional identity and negotiated dilemmas arising from questions of privilege, ownership, authorship, and public participation. How Parker, as well as the discipline more broadly, chose to address the conflict between Native American rights and the pursuit of scientific discovery ultimately helped form archaeology's moral community.
Parker's rise in archaeology just as the field was taking shape demonstrates that Native Americans could have found a place in the scholarly pursuit of the past years ago and altered its trajectory. Instead, it has taken more than a century to articulate the promise of an Indigenous archaeology--an archaeological practice carried out by, for, and with Native peoples. As the current generation of researchers explores new possibilities of inclusiveness, Parker's struggles and successes serve as a singular reference point to reflect on archaeology's history and its future.

In Collaboration in Archaeological Practice, prominent archaeologists reflect on their experiences collaborating with descendant communities (peoples whose ancestors are the subject of archaeological research). They offer philosophical and practical advice on how to improve the practice of archaeology by actively involving native peoples and other interested groups in research.

Archaeology as a Tool of Civic Engagement is an indispensable resource for archaeologists and the communities in which they work. The authors are intensely committed to developing effective models for participating in the civic renewal movement - through active engagement in community life, in development offor interpretive and educational programming, and for in participation in debates and decisions about preservation and community planning. Using case studies from different regions within the United States, Guatemala, Vietnam, Canada, and Eastern Europe, Little and Shackel challenge archaeologists to create an ethical public archaeology that is concerned not just with the management of cultural resources, but with social justice and civic responsibility. Their new book will be a valuable guide for archaeologists, community planners, historians, and museum professionals.

Archaeology as a Tool of Civic Engagement is an indispensable resource for archaeologists and the communities in which they work. The authors are intensely committed to developing effective models for participating in the civic renewal movement - through active engagement in community life, in development offor interpretive and educational programming, and for in participation in debates and decisions about preservation and community planning. Using case studies from different regions within the United States, Guatemala, Vietnam, Canada, and Eastern Europe, Little and Shackel challenge archaeologists to create an ethical public archaeology that is concerned not just with the management of cultural resources, but with social justice and civic responsibility. Their new book will be a valuable guide for archaeologists, community planners, historians, and museum professionals.

The second edition of Archaeological Ethics is an invitation to an ongoing and lively discussion on ethics. In addition to topics such as looting, reburial and repatriation, relations with native peoples, and professional conduct, Vitelli and Colwell-Chanthaphonh have responded to current events and news stories. Twenty-one new articles expand this ongoing discussion into the realm of intellectual property, public outreach, archaeotourism, academic freedom, archaeological concerns in times of war, and conflicting values. These compelling articles, from Archaeology Magazine, American Archaeology, and Expedition are written for a general audience and provide a fascinating introduction to the issues faced every day in archaeological practice. The article summaries, discussion and research questions, and suggestions for further reading-particularly helpful given the vast increase in related literature over the last decade-serve as excellent teaching aids and make this volume ideal for classroom use.

In recent years, archaeologists and Native American communities have struggled to find common ground even though more than a century ago a man of Seneca descent raised on New York's Cattaraugus Reservation, Arthur C. Parker, joined the ranks of professional archaeology. Until now, Parker's life and legacy as the first Native American archaeologist have been neither closely studied nor widely recognized. At a time when heated debates about the control of Native American heritage have come to dominate archaeology, Parker's experiences form a singular lens to view the field's tangled history and current predicaments with Indigenous peoples.
In Inheriting the Past, Chip Colwell-Chanthaphonh examines Parker's winding career path and asks why it has taken generations for Native peoples to follow in his footsteps. Closely tracing Parker's life through extensive archival research, Colwell-Chanthaphonh explores how Parker crafted a professional identity and negotiated dilemmas arising from questions of privilege, ownership, authorship, and public participation. How Parker, as well as the discipline more broadly, chose to address the conflict between Native American rights and the pursuit of scientific discovery ultimately helped form archaeology's moral community.
Parker's rise in archaeology just as the field was taking shape demonstrates that Native Americans could have found a place in the scholarly pursuit of the past years ago and altered its trajectory. Instead, it has taken more than a century to articulate the promise of an Indigenous archaeology--an archaeological practice carried out by, for, and with Native peoples. As the current generation of researchers explores new possibilities of inclusiveness, Parker's struggles and successes serve as a singular reference point to reflect on archaeology's history and its future.