Acknowledging Museums as Colonial Institutions<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
In the words of Amy Lonetree\u2019s, Decolonizing Museums: Representing Native America in National and Tribal Museums<\/em> (2012), \u201cMuseums can be very painful sites for Native peoples, as they are intimately tied to the colonization process\u201d (Lonetree 1). Museums are typically presented as sites of learning, engagement, and history, and Lonetree\u2019s quote leads to a path of recognizing the harm that these colonial institutions cause, historically and to this day. Lonetree\u2019s words have contributed to an ongoing conversation about colonial institutions (galleries, libraries, archives, and museums, or GLAMs) and how decolonization may recreate these places as sites that are beneficial for Indigenous peoples. Decolonization is noted by Eve Tuck and Wayne Yang (2012) as \u201cbring[ing] about the repatriation of Indigenous land and life\u2026\u201d (Tuck and Yang 1).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In our spring 2022 course Decolonizing Museums, we work to understand museums as colonial spaces and how \u201cdecolonization\u201d can reimagine them (and perhaps, in the future, restructure them) into places that recognize and prioritize Indigenous people and their narratives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The commodification of decolonization arises as a challenge (akin to many efforts that are done to counter social issues) to use this framework in a way that can apply to institutions like museums or even the education system. “Decolonization” has become a buzzword plastered on tote bags, t-shirts, and mugs, allowing people to “show off” their “inner activist” while requiring little to no reflection on the role that they play in colonialism. Maddee Clark, a Yugambeh writer, expresses that \u201c…institutions would utilize decolonization as a buzzword without interrogating their own deeply held values or developing sincere relationships with First Nations people\u201d (Clark 2021). To clarify, Clark\u2019s statements focus more on the art community in Australia, though rings true even here in the United States and in the actions of institutions here that commit to their performance. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Clark goes on to mention a personal encounter, where he was invited to an exhibit with a white curator that “wanted to decolonise” her organization’s board. The same white curator invited Clark to an event where participants sat in a circle on the floor “to decolonise the space by complicating the usual expectations of panel discussion”. These moments illustrate how empty decolonizing attempts can be when they are adopted without committing to internal work and reflection. By failing to build legitimate relationships with Indigenous people and exposing them to (what appears to be) uncomfortable situations, more harm is being committed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Additionally, educational systems and museums claim that they implement decolonial learning and methods, while straying from acknowledging the harm that they cause and what they should do to be in service of Indigenous students and people. If we want to reference “decolonization,” it is vital that we work to unlearn the ways that we\u2019ve been socialized and prepare to be critical of ourselves to recognize our beliefs and the harm that they may bring. Our ways of exchanging knowledge, communicating, and building community must be revised in order to aid in this process. We must also centralize Indigenous voices while ensuring that the burden of rebuilding entire colonial institutions does not fall on their shoulders. Acting as more than allies, we need to prepare to be present and ready to listen and\/or act as needed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Artmaking: Another Way of Learning <\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nCollection of Possum Skin Cloak paintings from an in class activity led by Kerri Clarke<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
In Decolonizing Museums, we\u2019ve identified core memories of engaging with spaces like libraries: you enter quietly, limit conversation unless absolutely necessary, and walk around towering shelves filled with countless books. The content of these books may prioritize certain narratives over others, leaving visitors to feel excluded. Even in the education system, lectures are the main teaching method and showcasing what you\u2019ve learned may limit you to writing papers or completing exams. But what if there was another way to learn that allowed you to be more interactive with your teachers and peers — a way that acknowledged the need to pass down information and your humanity\/ personal history?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One method of decolonizing is referencing ways of learning that are outside of Western education methods. By validating and understanding other ways of sharing knowledge, we may be able to work against colonial institutions. Throughout this class, we\u2019ve learned about Indigenous ways of knowledge production and how it works against (colonial) institutions. Centralizing southeastern Australian possum-skin cloak-making traditions that have been revived through the work of Maree Clarke (Mutti Mutti\/ Wemba Wemba\/ Boonwurrung), Vicki Couzens (Kirrae Wurrong\/ Gunditjmara) and Lee Darroch (Yorta Yorta), we\u2019ve been able to understand Indigenous ways of knowledge sharing to rework our perception of learning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Specifically, working with Maree Clarke and her family-members:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A collaborator of Maree’s, Senior Researcher Fran Edmonds, expresses that, “Storytelling is an Indigenous knowledge practice, and, increasingly, a methodological and theoretical intervention seeking to decolonise Western knowledge production in the academy\u201d (Edmonds et al. 2020: 279). Storytelling and observation were the main methods that Maree and her family used with our class to share their knowledge with us. We listened to Mitch and Kerri retell stories about the Seven Sisters, participated in a “Country Immersion” exercise where we were encouraged to follow Kerri’s voice to the background of sounds from wildlife and think through questions she read to us, and we painted our own relations to place\/Country on large pieces of paper using ink and charcoal to carefully think this through in our own contexts. These activities allowed us to not only engage with Indigenous cultural traditions in a respectful manner, but it also allowed us to experience ways of Indigenous learning that encourages listening to one another, sharing our stories, and reflecting on our time with one another. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maree and her family opened our class to a new way of learning that made us reflect on our connection to ourselves, each other, and our land. This new mentality pushes against the Western concepts of education that forces a strong ideology of individualism on people. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Reflecting on this process with a classmate and how it helps with decolonizing, she replied that art-making: \u201c[Is] a process of unlearning and thinking of the things to me that look normal and are a given and that it\u2019s not true. There\u2019s many ways to do things\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To experience learning from and with Maree and her family has been a life changing experience- one of building community and keeping Indigenous ways of learning alive and validated. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
What is the “Living Archive” and why is it important?<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
As a class, we have defined the Living Archive as a non-Westernized way of upholding Indigenous sovereignty through the collecting and circulating of Indigenous forms of knowledge (both tangible and intangible). <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Living Archive has\u2026
allowed archivists to focus on detail and rethink what an archive actually is;<\/li>
given Indigenous stories and figures the ability to reclaim their place in history;<\/li>
allowed for Indigenous communities to \u201cspeak back\u201d to the violence of the Western archive;
The importance of the recital of poetry and reading in the original First People\u2019s language (Leane)<\/li><\/ul><\/li><\/ul><\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Indigenous scholars and the Living Archive: <\/em><\/h5>\n\n\n\n
Bruce Pascoe is an Indigenous Australian author who is using his farm as a way of “speaking back”, which therefore makes it a part of the Living Archive. It is also important to note that Indigenous agency is something that is as well practiced on Pascoe’s farm. Pascoe explained to our class that he only works with Indigenous farmers, that way they can be paid for their labor and be nourished by food that they are planting themselves. The Indigenous farming practices on Pascoe’s farm include but are not limited to:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Repeated harvest: the altering of behaviors of animals and genomes of plants;<\/li>
The domestication of plants: done by continued harvesting of plants; <\/li>
Building a fortress of food to shield Indigenous people from the law.<\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe do not own the land, the land owns us;\u201d \u201cwe are in possession even though we say we do not own mother Earth.\u201d <\/p>Bruce Pascoe, 2022<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jeanine Leane is an Indigenous Australian writer and poet who focuses on using poetry as a form of storytelling and uses storytelling as an expression of Indigenous sovereignty. In order to begin decolonizing Westernized archival constructs, Leane is using her poetry as a part of the Living Archive in that it uses the power of memory and anecdotes: starting with someone’s story and working backwards (rather than having a physical record).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe archive is really not non-fiction, it is violent and misrepresentative.\u201d <\/p>Jeanine Leane, 2022<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHistory does not have the first claim, nor the last word.\u201d <\/p>Jeanine Leane, 2022<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
How is storytelling a part of the Living Archive and why is it important?<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
At the end of our class, we have come together to make our possum-skin cloak, which tells many stories of the Seven Sisters (Pleiades). Making the possum-skin cloak is a form of storytelling because as we make the cloak, stories are being shared, we are picking up skills, and we are learning. As we learn and unlearn, we must endeavor to understand Indigenous ways of being that are often dismissed or invalidated, and storytelling is one of those we must examine. Through our gathering and making together, there has been a transmission of knowledge between generations and cultures facilitated by storytelling. This is very different from the traditional idea of learning seen in academia, where there exists a rigid hierarchy between those learning and those teaching, and students follow a certain format of learning including reading and writing. These are both ways in which learning can occur.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Storytelling is just as valid as these western ideas of learning in academia. As we make the cloak, we are practicing another way of demonstrating learning. We are using a form of tactile learning while making the cloak, and using our bodies to learn. Perhaps storytelling might be a more valid way of learning. In-person learning together is rich and fun, more accessible, and doesn\u2019t require its participants to learn all the complex rules in academia that bar entry to outsiders. Individualism is often emphasized in the academy, whereas with cloak-making we are learning together as a community. No research is done in a vacuum, and it is more realistic to learn and grow with each other. Besides those reasons, First Nation storytelling can also interrupt the static stories curated by colonial institutions and proclaim the continuation of their culture into the present.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When asked about how this type of learning feels different from traditional academic learning, students responded:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBeing physically in the room with the people we\u2019re learning from\u2026has been really impactful.\u201d<\/li>
\u201cGetting to work with other people, hearing their stories, has been really special. It\u2019s something you can\u2019t replace with a zoom screen.\u201d<\/li>
\u201cWhen learning with your hands and actively participating, I find myself more engaged and excited to learn.\u201d<\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n
How Sovereignty is Expressed <\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Through Our Cloak- Making<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Photo Credit: Jenny Yu for MHC’s Office of Communications<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n
Visual Sovereignty<\/strong><\/em><\/h5>\n\n\n\n
Our cloak\/art-making not only challenges Western ways of learning, but also interrogates Western conceptualizations of sovereignty. By participating in cloak\/art-making, Indigenous sovereignty becomes enforced in a way that transcends settler-colonial boundaries. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jolene Rickard\u2019s coining of the term \u201cvisual sovereignty\u201d helps us understand the link between art-making and sovereignty more clearly: to Rickard, putting \u201cvisual\u201d before \u201csovereignty\u201d allows us to imagine other forms of sovereignty that stray away from ties to statehood (Rickard 2020). <\/p>\n\n\n\n
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