The story of any North American natural history museum would also have to be, at least partially, a story about Native North Americans—about their physical removal from the land and cultural removal from a central position in our various national histories and narratives. Chicago’s Field Museum of Natural History—in particular, the museum’s Native North American Hall—is finding new ways to tell some of these stories.

What is at stake is the question of who has the authority to tell which stories, and how that telling influences and constructs our realities. Clearly, Native communities, including Chicago’s, need to play a substantial role in how these objects are displayed and discussed. In the press release, curator of North American anthropology Alaka Wali says, “It’s not just a new exhibition—it represents a whole new way of thinking.” Yet new ways of thinking do not happen on their own; they require concerted and committed efforts by groups of interested parties sustained over long periods.

It is also worth noting that many U.S. natural history museums have large collections of human remains, which are disproportionately Native American or non-European. Archaeology, which includes the material practice of removing artifacts from designated archaeological sites, was one of the driving forces behind the fervent collection of such remains. The question of why Native American remains were understood to be collectible is directly related to European conceptualizations of who does and does not count as fully human, who is part of history and who is categorized as prehistoric. “Savage,” “barbaric,” and “civilized,” far from loose descriptions, were official categories that late 19th century anthropologists, ethnologists, and social theorists used to create an evolutionary model of social development. Prominent 19th century writers and thinkers such as Edward B. Tylor promoted the idea that all cultures passed through these three universal stages, which cast European styles of life as the most developed and desirable. Unsurprisingly, non-Europeans, including people indigenous to North America, were mostly seen as lacking, stuck in the past, underdeveloped, or about to disappear.

Viewing the disheveled collection might lead one to ask, whom does the Native North American Hall represent? At first glance, the obvious answer might be the original owners of these arranged artifacts. Clearly, large museums are complex organizations emerging from multiple and even competing perspectives, making it impossible to determine or even formulate a single coherent vision. Nevertheless, museums do establish and reflect prevailing beliefs and sensibilities, including the hidden and not-so-hidden biases that shape how we define, imagine, and evaluate those people we see as different. The objects and cultural artifacts that have been collected and displayed enhance the prestige and advance the worldview of the institutions that do the collecting and displaying. Such exhibitions reflect the assumptions and intentions of the organizers as much as the presumed assumptions of the expected audience (in the Field’s case, close to two million visitors in 2017). Whomever the hall represents (collectors, curators, or some anticipated audience), the producers of these objects have historically had little say in any part of the process. Could such a place ever feel welcoming to Native North Americans?

It is fitting, given how often Native American stories are told by non-Natives, to end this account of the clash of cultural histories by quoting the artist. “We will not be relegated to the past nor be considered mere victims of historical trauma,” Pappan writes in the exhibition wall text. “We are a thriving people, and we have not abandoned the things that make us unique in the world. Our culture isn’t stagnant, it changes with the times and is a living thing.”    v