Introduction

Daniela Balanzátegui and Marianne Sallum

“Indigenous Archaeologies, Territories, and Human Rights” was the first panel of four meetings of the International Seminar “Indigenous and Afro-descendant Peoples in the Americas: Collaboration, Archaeology, Repatriation, and Cultural Heritage” (2023, 2024). It is an inter-institutional collaboration between the Interdisciplinar de Pesquisas em Evolução, Cultura e Meio Ambiente laboratory (LEVOC/MAE-University of São Paulo), and the Latin American Historical Archaeology and New England Indigenous Archaeology laboratories (Department of Anthropology, University of Massachusetts Boston). The panel coincided with Indigenous Peoples’ Day in Brazil (April 19, 2023), a date to reflect on realistic alternatives to full civil rights for Indigenous peoples, Quilombolas, Afro-descendants, and traditional knowledge communities. In recent decades, there has been a growing movement of global solidarity, with various peoples united to defend and preserve their territories, address racial and climate justice, and maintain linguistic and cultural diversity. In the words of Ecuadorian Indigenous activist Leo Cerda (2022), co-founder of the Afro-Indigenous Liberation Movement:

“We are the ones who are at the forefront of the fight against climate change – our bodies, our people. And we need our systems to change so that we can be at the forefront of the decision-making processes that impact our ecosystems. If we don’t have equity and fairness for our people, we accomplish nothing.”

Bringing together an international community that struggles to create safe solidarity spaces for every people and community, this article presents the contributions of three Indigenous colleagues, Yacunã Tuxá (Rodelas, Bahia), Luã Apyká (Tabaçu Rekoypy, Tupi Guarani, São Paulo), Natasha Gambrell (Eastern Pequot, Connecticut), and Indigenous and non-Indigenous academics from Brazil, United States and Ecuador. Although geographically distant (figure 1), they are historically united by their struggles against erasure and colonialism, intentionally articulating practices and identities “related to new economies, politics, and social realities […] that effectively unite the past and the present in a dynamic and unbreakable trajectory” (Panich et al. 2018: 11-12).

Figure 1 – Location of Indigenous territories of the Eastern Pequot, Tuxá and Tupi Guarani

The conversation was mediated by Blaire Morseau, a member of the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi Indians (Michigan, USA). She is an anthropologist and artist dedicated to gaining space for Indigenous representation in contemporary narratives, focusing on themes of science fiction, Indigenous futurism, environment/ecology, and territorial claims. Her art explores the creation of visions for alternative futures, using the traditional Indigenous knowledge of the Great Lakes and Potawatomi narratives (Morseau 2023). The panel was organized by two Latin American researchers, Marianne Sallum, who studies the persistence of agroforestry communities and pottery practices in São Paulo (Brazil), especially by women (Sallum and Noelli 2021; Noelli et al., 2023); Daniela Balanzátegui, working with a focus on community-based archaeology with Maroon women to revitalize and support the recognition of the Afro-Ecuadorian heritage  (Balanzátegui 2021); and Stephen W. Silliman, who also made the final remarks to the panel. He has conducted collaborative archaeology research with the Eastern Pequot (Connecticut, USA) for over two decades (Silliman 2008), contributing to the community’s demands for federal identity recognition. Astolfo Araujo has also supported the organization of this pane as coordinator of LEVOC, which researches the occupation of the Brazilian Southeast by the first human groups that arrived in the Americas.

We recognize and pay tribute to the lands: 1) of the Massachusett peoples, where the University of Massachusetts Boston is located, and the neighboring communities of the Nipmuc and the Wampanoag; 2) and of the Tupi, Tupiniquim, and Kaingang, where the University of São Paulo is located.

The text presents a critical debate that must be considered by Indigenous and African Diaspora archaeologies, especially regarding the recognition of territories, cultural diversity, and possible methodologies for the decolonizing the discipline. It results from our profound solidarity with Indigenous and Afro-descendant movements in the Americas, reflecting the urgency to develop academic research that effectively dialogues with the different forms of knowledge production and generates practical results on behalf of communities. This seminar aims to build collaborative networks and platforms for dialogues with representatives from several organizations and places dedicated to strengthening communities in their different demands, looking for articulations on behalf of public acknowledgment and political support to protect and keep alive their ancestral heritages.

In addition to conversations held in round tables, the series aims to develop a collaborative website to address common interest themes and develop partnerships with research groups from different areas. Those communities are connected at a national level, with some international scope. The goal is to create and strengthen a trilingual platform to outline Indigenous knowledge, practices, and demands in the Americas and Africa, as well as their stories of persistence and cooperation (Timbaye 2005; Santos 2020).

The academic, activist, and community work of Gambrell, Tuxá, and Apiká is based on the survival and transmission of Indigenous knowledge, articulating artistic, poetic, and literary practices in the constant search for spaces that support struggles for human, territorial, and linguistic rights (e.g., Apyká 2014; Sebastian Dring et al. 2019; Tuxá 2022). This line of action highlights the need for academia to find new paths and deeper “affective alliances” (Krenak 2016) that respond to the interests of traditional knowledge communities (Sallum 2023).

This exchange of experiences aims to integrate movements of thematic renewal and an agenda to promote effective dialogue between different knowledge centers. The proposal echoes Silvia Cusicanqui (2017: 224) on the decolonization of universities, starting when knowledge producers and their interlocutors discuss “on equal footing from different centers of thought”, since there is no discourse on decolonization, nor a theory of decolonization, without a practice of decolonization. For Célia Xakriabá (2020), the university faces a challenge: “it is not enough to recognize traditional knowledge, it is necessary to recognize the knowledge holders”.

Natasha Gambrell (NG)

Natasha is the great-great-granddaughter of John Randall and Abby Fagins. She is the daughter of Valerie Gambrell, a current Tribal Councilor. Natasha has been dancing Eastern Blanket, Jingle, and Northern Traditional since she was eight years old at several powwows. At 16, she was crowned Miss Eastern Pequot and has been actively involved in the collaborative Eastern Pequot archaeology field school with UMass Boston since 2008. Natasha has represented her community at several local schools and colleges. In 2015, she graduated from Eastern Connecticut State University with a B.A. in English. In 2017, she was elected to the Eastern Pequot Tribal Council as a counselor, alongside her mother and brother, and has been re-elected. This is one of her greatest accomplishments, and her passion is representing the tribe, telling their story, and helping the next generation.

Luã Apyká (LA)

He is a being of the forest, curious about life and the teachings of his elders. He dialogues with the spirits of the sound to change reality through the art of eloquence. Luã is an Indigenous Tupi Guarani teacher from the Tabaçu Rekoypy community in Peruíbe, São Paulo, on the coast of Pindoretã. He is also an artist, writer, activist, storyteller, and audiovisual director at the SOPRO collective, a professor in the Tupi Guarani meetings (NHE’Ē Porã), a member of the Forum for the Articulation of Indigenous Teachers of São Paulo, Center for Indigenous Education, and national executive member of the International Decade of Indigenous Languages.

Yacunã Tuxá (YT)

She is an activist/artist (illustrator/painter) and researcher of the Tuxá people of Rodelas, Bahia. She studies Letters Vernaculars/Spanish at the Federal University of Bahia. Her art highlights the plurality and resistance of Indigenous women, focusing on themes such as race, gender, sexuality, and politics. Her work has been exhibited in important art institutions in Brazil, like the Pinacoteca do Estado de São Paulo, the Museu do Arte do Rio, and the Museu Nacional da República.

Blaire Morseau (BM): What has your community been doing to stand for and defend its heritage, including land acknowledgment, environmental resources, human and civil rights, and cultural transmission?

NG: The Eastern Pequot are still trying to have their Indigenous identity acknowledged by the US federal government, which requires us to prove our Indigenous heritage and existence throughout the centuries (figure 2). We had a positive federal recognition decision in 2002, but it was revoked in 2005, unleashing an ongoing legal dispute. What was done to us was an attempt at genocide, and our community still faces a battle for its existence. One of the strategies to combat this attempt to erase us is our archaeology program, developed in collaboration with Dr. Silliman from the University of Massachusetts Boston (USA). Through that partnership, we use our artifacts to show that we have been here for centuries and will keep fighting until we get what is rightfully ours.

Figure 2 – map of Eastern Pequot Reservation, Connecticut (USA)

YT: The Tuxá people, to which I belong, were deeply affected in the late 1980s by the construction of the Itaparica dam that flooded part of our traditional territory. We still fight for the demarcation of our territories. Although the dam is seen by non-Indigenous people as a symbol of progress, for us it had a devastating impact on our social organization and profoundly affected the vitality of our river (figure 3). In our community, education, and school are essential to teaching children the importance of developing forms of resistance, where women have a central role. Art and the university are powerful tools to defend my territory, build bridges, share information, discuss our causes, and organize politically.

Figure 3 – Map of Tuxá Territory (1984 and 2023), Bahía (Brazil)

LA: I would like to express my gratitude for this powerful encounter. Each breath of life generates other breaths, and these meetings and dialogues allow us to deconstruct and reconstruct the sacred bonds that make us strong. Indigenous Peoples’ Day in Brazil reminds us of the different cosmologies of time but cannot talk about territorial invasions only in the context of physical land; we must consider the invasion of our spiritual territory and how we can recover from it through the art of eloquence and listening. For the Tupi Guarani people and many other ethnic groups, fighting to demarcate the land and respecting our cosmovision were always essential (figure 4). We used several strategies to strengthen our people. The Teko porã and the Ñande rekó represent our life philosophy, and we have developed various workshops and audiovisual production to preserve our culture, centered on the ancestral ways of learning and teaching.

Figure 4 – Map of the Tupi Guarani Communities of São Paulo (Brazil)

BM: What were the main challenges you or your community have faced regarding land acknowledgment, language, and cultural heritage?

NG: To tell the story of the Eastern Pequot people, we must consider the events that occurred in the 17^th century, especially the Pequot War of 1636-1637. During this period, our community was almost annihilated by the English settlers who had settled in our lands in the prior two decades. We were forbidden from speaking our ancient language and returning to our ancestral homeland. Our culture was deemed illegal, and many of us were sold as enslaved people. This period marked the first genocide we faced. After the war, the Eastern Pequot returned to our lands and became a reservation in 1683 by the King of England, long before the United States existed. We still fight relentlessly to preserve our identity, and archaeology has been a powerful ally. Even when federal acknowledgment was revoked, we united and did our best to guarantee our survival and visibility, as our history and presence in the USA have been ignored, erased, and silenced. That's why we continuously reaffirm our existence, so everyone knows we are here, even when it seems we are not.

YT: In Brazil, the Tuxá people also face centuries of violence with erasure, silencing, persecution, brutal evangelization, forced to abandon their language, and invaded territories. Colonization continues. We face ongoing discrimination and experience racism regularly, pressured to renounce our identity, existence, and ways of thinking. It’s hard to comprehend that today, we still need to prove our existence and ancestry (figure 5), as in the case of the Temporal Mark (Marco Temporal). However, people rarely talk about racism from the Indigenous perspective. I have debated with other Indigenous artists as the main barrier to grant our rights. Many people are unaware of our diversity and assault us using capitalism as if we were enemies of progress. However, this idea of progress does not sustain the future. My people have engaged in several forms of resistance, including creating a school in our community that became the basis of our political organization. We are reviving our language and developing a curriculum with our traditional knowledge. At the university, I often find a speech that considers scientific knowledge superior to the diverse knowledge of the world. However, my community teaches that our knowledge and origin are fundamental in our fight for a world that can accommodate many worlds and cosmovisions.

Figure 5 – Untitled, Yacunã Tuxá

LY: In the past, there was no need to delimit territorial borders because we understood that the territory was shared by everyone and everything that inhabits it: the animals, plants, and spirits, which communicate with each other. A multiverse territory! As forest beings, the territory is part of the Tupi Guarani spiritual world, but we need to establish borders to ensure forest preservation. Our territory represents the last restinga (herbaceous/shrubby coastal sand-dune habitats) forest amongst many territories on the São Paulo coast. So, in addition to being a highly coveted territory by many beings, it is also a very powerful territory with many stone beings. This explains the interest of mining companies, which have affected this and our people profoundly. The Tupi-Guarani language was used to colonize territories, with the first grammar created by Jesuits. More than 1,500 languages were spoken in Brazil before the Europeans arrived, although some studies state that this number was even more significant. Today, there are approximately 270 Indigenous languages in Brazil. The prohibition of Indigenous languages was a devastating colonialist strategy, but we resisted, and today, we fight tirelessly to revitalize and preserve our languages.

BM: How do you predict that your strategies to revive, protect, and defend your heritage will promote a better future for your community, nation, and humanity?

YT: I am an Indigenous LGBTQIA+ woman from Northeast Brazil, and that says a lot about my presence, my speech, my art, and how I enter spaces and contexts. Since I was a teenager, I have accompanied my people’s leadership by participating in travels and political and social activism. From early on, I felt the importance of being part of a collective and fighting for my community’s rights (figures 6 and 7). That also made me understand the importance of visiting Brasilia, experiencing the Brazilian reality, and seeing how the state deals with the Indigenous demands. The country is emerging from four years of an openly violent and homophobic genocide government, a threat to our very existence. Since 2019, I have articulated different creative languages to deal with the complexity of being who I am and thinking about a future, a transformation, starting from my cosmovision, my understanding of the world rooted in the Tuxá identity. I express myself through writing, painting, and collages and share my illustrations on social media to have channels of dialogue with my Indigenous relatives and the entire Brazilian society. My art is urgent and proposes a transformation whose beauty lies in showing an ancestral future that embraces diversity and plurality. That knowledge belongs to Indigenous and the African Diaspora peoples. Now, we must take control of our narrative, share our stories, express our pain, and especially talk about our knowledge. We have much to contribute towards change, recognizing that the Earth is unique, nature is one, and that what I build and make resonates this message in everyone and everywhere.

Figure 6 – “Our Love is Resistance”, Yacunã Tuxá

LA: It is not possible to separate the past from the future. Talking about memory is talking about the future and resistance. In this way, we strengthen our cultural and spiritual heritage and the connections to our Ñande rekó – a sacred way of being.  We live in a globalized world influenced by capitalism, where several religions advocate for Indigenous cosmologies to lose their spiritualities. Our main goal is to promote the valorization of our culture, of what is ours, and we cannot let it go because our ancestors entrusted us with the responsibility of protecting that knowledge. We, artists from the territory, are part of a movement to promote healing, conscious that Pindoretã is an Indigenous territory, and parts of it are becoming sick. When we leave our territory and community, we carry our words, languages, food practices, and many beings. That territory must be recognized as Indigenous for knowledge to exist. It is necessary to transform language into a large territorial movement with multiple shapes and reinforcement strategies. A sacred conversation happens in places with a fire and people talking around it – there is memory in those places where we work on our present and future, incorporating the teachings of the forest, elders, and children, who are great teachers. We are at a decisive moment where we can openly discuss our spirituality and are part of a movement to strengthen and reoccupy the places of speech. What is the difference between listening to our own voices or reading a book written by a non-Indigenous person?

Figure 7 – “Ah, I Love Women”, Yacunã Tuxá



NG: When I think about the future, I constantly remember what I was taught about the need to care for the next seven generations. So, my actions are to ensure a better life for them! Recently, we took steps towards that goal by promoting a law in Connecticut that establishes Indigenous studies in schools. This is the first step because we have always been told that our ancestors are our history’s guardians and that children are in charge of preserving it for the future. We hope archaeology allows children to handle the artifacts, as they were held and touched by their ancestors. This way, we promote greater visibility of their culture. I write poetry as a powerful tool to tell our story and ensure that our stories last. I yearn for a day when we can finally rest in the future since we have fought for our visibility and identity for so long. I dream of a future when my grandchildren and nieces’ and nephews’ children do not need to fight for that. I believe that people must be educated to understand that Indigenous peoples are still here, exist, and resist. We are proud of everything we are going through and will not quit because the struggle is rooted in our history from the beginning of time. We want a future where students and children are proud of their Indigenous ancestry. Our voices have been silenced for a long time. Looking at the next seven generations, I understand the importance of education to reinforce culture, allowing children to understand their own history. My mother used to say that it is difficult to build a future if you do not know your past. What I hope for the future is that the next generations do not have to go through everything we have experienced.

BM: How can archaeology contribute to reinforcing Indigenous communities? How do you feel about the union of several communities, combining their forces and lessons learned to fight racism and the attempts to take your lands away?

NG: I usually tell everyone that archaeology saved my life! I was devastated when I was younger and our community lost its acknowledgment. It was like my identity had disappeared. They said we did not exist, which was unimaginable to me. That’s when my involvement with archaeology began. I found artifacts that proved the opposite, that we had always been here, and gave me hope. It was something physical, showing that my people had always been part of this land, regardless of what the government said. We have always been here. If I hold this artifact, it is because my ancestors were here. I am deeply grateful to Steve Silliman and everyone who helped us conduct archaeology in the community. Today, even people from our community are interested in becoming archaeologists. For us, archaeology was something that saved our lives. In this partnership between the university and the community, listening to what Indigenous people have to say is crucial. If they say something, listen, because it’s important! It is just a question of building that relationship. It’s difficult because many Indigenous people don’t trust researchers, so it takes time to build that relationship. However, being honest and genuine and listening to the community is the most important thing. I trust in Steve for the respectful relationship he has established with our community.

YT: I liked what relative Natasha said. It reminded me of a project I started centered on the dialogue with our territory, especially the river waters. The project is called “The Memory of Us in the Voice of the Rivers”, made to understand what our territory preserves in terms of memory – and that includes the material sphere, as it is common to find objects that are clear evidence of our ancestral presence there. Thus, our community has been working on that, using some technologies on our behalf. We are carrying out mappings assisted by GPS, adding points whenever we find any relevant object. However, while I understand the importance of archaeology and some policies, I realize that some reports and maps still take quite a long time to make. In this context, I think archaeology is an ally.

LY: I have a different opinion about archaeology, but I also think the archaeologists’ actions can change someone’s vision. I am careful about everything concerning the contact with those territories, respecting the way our ancestors left it, their intentions, and spirituality. This is a critical discussion involving the sensitivity of many beings (individuals), and I hope that sensitivity extends to archaeology, which is still undergoing a decolonization process. Many educational standards are Eurocentric. Linguistics, my field, frequently comes with preconceived standards, and we often have to say: “Hey, I do not see my language exactly like that. It has the spirit of other people’s language”. Archaeology also needs to decolonize the concept of memory and I am happy to see many Indigenous people leading the decolonization movement in the territory. I feel that many beings seek to strengthen and respect the territory, the memory of our people, and, especially, the future of how that memory will be treated. It's important to remember that memory strengthens not just the body but the orality itself. This dematerializes the movement of memory, transforming it into something present in everyone and everything around us.

Moderator’s comments 

Blaire Morseau

Today, we are facing critical issues regarding state, federal, and national recognition that aim to make Indigenous peoples disappear. We must grapple with the double edge of this challenge daily. Archaeology, archaeologists, anthropologists, and researchers can develop with Indigenous communities and partner with them in ways that allow us to begin to undo the damage. Art also plays a vital role as a form of visual sovereignty for some communities, offering another form of resistance against different forms of oppression. Our responsibilities extend to our ancestors and future generations – what we call ancestral futures. Additionally, as has been presented in this panel, we must recognize our connection with the spirits of other beings, not just with other human beings. Finally, this platform is a way of connecting Indigenous peoples beyond the colonial borders of the colonizers. Thank you again in my language ktthë migwėtth, ndenwémagnêk. 

Final comments

Stephen W. Silliman

This was a truly inspirational panel, and honestly, it is very difficult to be the person offering concluding thoughts. To begin, I want to say thank you, obrigado, gracias, and kutapatush in the Pequot language of Natasha’s historical community to the presenters for their brilliant and inspirational comments. I think, if I’m allowed to say it, it was a resounding success, and I consider it truly an honor to be asked to bring this event to a close. I’m humbled to be asked, but part of me does not want to be the final word as a non-Indigenous academic on the panel. In many ways, I want to just defer to all that has been said already. But since they have asked me to do so, I’ll add just a few comments that hopefully are acceptable, that situate these conversations in larger contexts, and address some of today’s issues. 

As they have acknowledged, and as we all should as well, the panelists are the voices of the past, voices of the present, and most importantly, voices of the future. The seminar represents the next wave of this kind of work, and I’m excited to see leadership coming from Indigenous people, especially Indigenous women and Indigenous artists. Today showed us all the ways that cooperation and collaboration between Indigenous communities, and those between communities and the academy, might work. 

As noted by several, real change will only come with collective action. Colonialism created its damage through processes of collective action, genocide, displacement, and racism, ranging from the daily practices of common people all the way through governmental action. It must be fought and unraveled with Indigenous collective action. In fact, archaeology as a discipline and government policies in Brazil and the United States have changed thanks to just that kind of Indigenous activism. Also, this kind of international Indigenous conversation, especially with inclusion of African Diasporic people and the long arc of this seminar series, really paves the way for future dialogues and future change. 

Multiple themes arose in the conversation today: racism, education, language, land, art, history, spirituality, just to name a few. The three speakers show that the way forward, as it has been in the past, is through both struggle and a lifting up of Indigenous voices and cultures. Part of the lifting up is through amplifying voices, protecting bodies, valuing and encouraging artistic expression, centering health and well-being, and acknowledging history (see Atalay 2019). On the other hand, the fight part remains hard and tiring. As Natasha mentioned, the goal is to build time for future generations to perhaps rest a bit more as these struggles subside as more victories are won. Language is a good example as several people mentioned; it is something that must be kept up and restored in the wake of colonialism, and that is not easy.

We also heard about the role of artists and art, especially from Yacunã. As many talked about, education is vital, but education has also been a tool of oppression. Therefore, it needs more decolonization for it to be able to do some of the work that we all hope that it can (Atalay 2008). Great comments today emphasized how this might work and how education can be centered in Indigenous perspectives rather than just overriding or trying superficially to include them. One of my favorite moments was when Luã noted that memory is the future, and it helps to build the future… but also that the future is yesterday and is embodied (see Gould et al. 2020; Mrozowski and Gould 2019). This brought together all of these multiple temporalities and experiences and embodiments in a particularly Indigenous way.  In addition, Luã noted important and powerful things about territory – that it means land, it means body, and it means language. To me, this expanded thinking addresses the fundamental questions of sovereignty. 

While on the topic of memory, I want to briefly mention archaeology as it surfaced as a theme in the panel and in the questions. As an archaeologist, I have had the honor of working with the Eastern Pequot Tribal Nation for the last 20 years on an archaeology and heritage project, as Natasha referred to several times (Sebastian Dring et al. 2019; Silliman and Sebastian Dring 2008). This project has taught me so much about Indigenous rights, land history, community, identity, and knowledge. It has also been a space for us to develop a deep collaboration between a native nation and university and between archaeologists and the lived community. It has shown me that even when I had doubts about my own discipline, one that has terrible colonial roots and practices, it can actually do good. To do that good, such work has to be aligned with Indigenous community needs (i.e. Atalay 2012; Cipolla et al. 2019; Gonzalez et al. 2018). Natasha today called it life saving. 

Honestly, I can think of nothing more profound and humbling than hearing that, because such an outcome doesn’t happen often. Archaeology can do this by not just doing science but by telling stories: stories of persistence and, as some Indigenous people in North America say, stories of survivance (Acebo 2021; Rubertone 2019; Silliman 2014; Vizenor 2008). Focusing on storytelling aligns the broader archaeological project with some of the fundamental ways of Indigenous sharing in education – that is, through stories. As Yacunã and Luã both noted, archaeology and education and other parts of the academy must be political. The academy must be decolonized, it must give rather than take, and it must acknowledge the well-founded fears and suspicions that some Indigenous communities have of academia. Responding to Luã’s comment about the university as a repository, I think that universities should definitely be moving away from that role and instead focus on uplifting, caretaking, allegiance, and respect. This is what I want to keep encouraging at my own home institution here in the United States. As Natasha noted on the panel, it takes trust, time, and willingness to do so. 

Acknowledgments

The authors would like to thank the editors of Etnográfica, especially Humberto Martins and Renata de Sá Gonçalves. Ping-Ann Addo and Simone Harmath-de Lemos (UMass-Boston), Danielle G. Samia, for the maps, and Cleberson Moura (MAE-USP), for the technical support in transmitting the panel, Andrea Chavez and Valentina Romero (LHA-Lab, UMass-Boston) for the editions, transcriptions and thoughtful feedback. Thanks to our colleagues, Tânia Casimiro, Iris Moraes, and Fabiana Leite, for the comments on the panel. Francisco Noelli for the revisions and insightful comments. MSallum: FAPESP – São Paulo Research Foundation (2019/17868-0,2021/09619-0, 2019/18664-9), through FCT – Foundation for Science and Technology within the scope of the projects UIDB/00698/2020 and UIDP/00698/2020.