Creating ethically engaged and equitable field schools isn’t rocket science. 1) Be a good human and 2) cultivate relations of care among all involved. When you make a program inclusive of everyone’s needs, you radically shift the relations of practice. https://www.sciencemag.org/news/2020/08/fed-archaeologists-aim-fix-frat-party-atmosphere-field-schools

An someone who practices #Indigenous #Archaeology, these lessons are at the forefront of the field schools I have developed. Changing our relations with tribal nations calls us to examine *all* of our relations and to *do better*.

This includes our relations with students and those who have less power that we work with. Create spaces to listen and to assess and readjust based on that listening and learning.

As my advisor Kent Lightfoot once taught me: first rule in this is to stay fluid and flexible. I try to pass this on to our team and students—encouraging us to be self-aware and responsive to emerging needs.

Another lesson: accept that the work products aren’t priority, but that the people are. This means slowing down, allowing space for learning and for reflection.

People often want “quick fixes” like banning alcohol from the fuel/professional settings, but this isn’t a cure all. If relations are hierarchical, non-responsive, inflexible, etc. the potential for harm remains.

In the case of Field Methods in #Indigenous #Archaeology we approach alcohol abstention as one of maintaining proper relations to sacred places & knowledge. We understand working with Grand Ronde heritage as one necessitating personal obligations of respect.

Having a dry field camp is about more than ourselves. And this is a lesson: in practicing respect you are caring for others. This care is fundamental to recognizing and being mindful of others boundaries. Of understanding how your actions and thoughts may impact others.

And that’s what we’re seeking to change in the field/field schools—making an ethics of care central to how we *do* #archaeology. Care for people, places, and practices to use phrasing of the Grand Ronde Historic Preservation Office.

As Justin Dunnavant says in the article, field schools can be significant spaces for Black and Ibdigenous and other students excluded from the academy. It’s where we can find community and solidarity.

We as directors can facilitate this community by ensuring students feel like they belong. This involves more than just providing funding. You can’t just give a stipend to an #Indigenous student and call it a day!

We are responsible for creating a space that accepts #Indigenous students’ whole selves and this means radically reassessing how we do what we do, from methods we use to teach to content to relations we cultivate, etc.

This is harder work and its more involved than adding in new citations to our syllabi. It’s also always in process. What works for one does not work for all.

In reflecting on the successes Grand Ronde and I have had with our program I’m proud that 40% of our students come from Indigenous communities or other groups historically marginalized by #archaeology.

I’m proud that a little more than half continue to work within the project or as volunteers in my lab @UW. And I’m proud of all the students who have carried on in academia (and for those who are pursuing other pathways) cause I know they’re carrying imp teachings with them.

But I’m also aware that we can do more/be better. Students have challenged us and myself to think about how we can be more welcoming and inclusive of their needs.

We’ve always been a residential field school, but as we go forward we’ve created flexibility for students with familial and work obligations as well as other needs create a more flexible plan.

We also need to explore additional opportunities to increase funding for *all* participants as the burden of tuition fees and a summer without work make field training unattainable for many (they certainly were for me as a baby archaeologist!).

I also need to learn to be less competitive while gaming (we play a lot of games in our down time). (This is *so* hard cause I’m so good at winning tho my grad students in particular might disagree with me).

In all seriousness, a student reflected on gaming as someone with anxiety. While for them the camaraderie and competition was a good thing it prompted my grad and I to look at ourselves and take stock. We’ve tried to be more mindful and...

Thought about how we could ensure that our gaming (and game faces) didn’t work to exclude people. We’ve tried to make evening activities as open as possible—allowing folks to opt in or out of whatever activities they’d most like to engage in.

And when my competitive spirit gets to be too much, I try my best to walk it back.

All this is to say, nobody’s perfect. We will all make mistakes.

We might try our best to be our best and to ensure a safe, welcoming community for all and we *still* might fail.

Final lesson of being fluid and flexible: learn to recognize when you’ve failed and be accountable to yourself and the community.

Admitting when you’re wrong remaining accountable is sometimes the ultimate in care. It’s obviously easier said than done, but it’s a skill useful beyond #archaeology and the field.

But if we expect our field schools to be better we, as leaders in the field, have to better ourselves at establishing boundaries, recognizing the boundaries of others, and holding ourselves accountable.

We can have all the anti-harassment or cultural competency or pro-equity statements we want, but without a commitment to care, a capacity for self-reflection or personal accountability for our relations, these words are and will remain meaningless.

This is a big fear of mine. As it becomes standard practice to have an anti-harassment policy these statements can serve as cover for individuals and institutions who aren’t as committed to the hard work of creating a safe & equitable learning environment. Same with drinking bans

How do we fix this? At an institutional level, any applicant should know whether or not a project has a record of complaints. Study Abroad programs also need clear guidelines indicating when/why projects are pulled after complaints.

On my project we share info with students and indicate how we’ve dealt with prior complaints (is, changes we made). This can feel scary, but students should be made aware of how their suggestions/complaints are heard and responded to.

These are just some suggestions and I’d love to hear more.

And if you’re interested in these topics more, here’s where I plug our publication on the impacts of Indigenizing #archaeology field schools (email me for PDFs) https://www.tandfonline.com/eprint/CPAKHBFX4U4CCUP2UE8E/full?target=10.1080/20518196.2020.1724631

Finally, I’d be remiss I’m not thanking our wonderful team at Grand Ronde ( @Journeyman72 is the only one on here) and students for pushing our thinking ( @eviedigs @egwess @soph_ieeee @Scubayo42 + many others that aren’t on here!!!)