1

Introduction

Re-Imagining Colonial Pasts, Influencing Colonial Futures

KATHERINE H. HAYES AND CRAIG N. CIPOLLA

Twenty years ago, the Columbian quincentenary inspired archaeologists to initiate conversations and debates about colonialism that extended well beyond Columbus specifically and modern European expansion in general. These conversations were particularly poignant and fraught among archaeologists in the Americas. Not only did they touch upon the raw nerve of the newly passed Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA), they also brought attention to the gaping ontological and epistemological divides in our discipline over temporality and subjectivity. In the years that followed, we turned more attention to the question of colonialism and have found not one but many processes and historical outcomes and found not two categories of people involved (colonizer and colonized) but a vast plurality of variously gendered, racialized, aged, and occupied peoples of a multitude of faiths, desires, associations, and constraints. Perhaps one of the most important lessons learned in these investigations is that colonialism is not a phenomenon of limited historical duration, a phase or era in our chronology, but is ongoing. This we learn when we try to identify a finite end point of the process and do not find it and especially so when we learn from contemporary descendant communities. The impacts of colonialism, if not in some instances the same processes set in place by the likes of Columbus, are ongoing.

How are we to take on this challenge of interpreting ongoing circumstances? The comparative project of this volume, in which we engage archaeologists of the New and Old World in dialogues on the subject of colonialism, is an effort to compare the practices of the past while also drawing attention to the unfolding consequences or futures in colonial circumstances. Unlike previous volumes on the archaeology of colonialism that draw upon ancient and modern cases from Old World and New World contexts (among them Gosden 2004; Lyons and Papadopoulos, ed. 2002; Stein, ed. 2005; Voss and Casella 2012), this volume gives explicit attention to the relevance of colonialism to contemporary communities regardless of the temporal spans under consideration. How do these themes and concepts resonate from settler societies to postcolonial societies, from the deeper temporal histories of Roman, Greek, or earlier empires to the making of the modern world? What frameworks have circulated across all of these contexts, and to what effect? Perhaps most importantly, how do these approaches help us to critically engage with the ongoing impacts of colonialism today, whether they lie in the federal recognition process for Native American nations or in the heritage representation of a Roman past? In this introductory chapter we explore the ways in which entangling colonial narratives, that is, the critical comparison of archaeological case studies from a wide variety of geographical and temporal contexts, can foster rethinking colonial pasts and influencing colonial futures.

Frameworks for Comparison

The approach in this volume draws together several frameworks for archaeologies of colonialism with the aim of highlighting the significance of colonial pasts to contemporary communities. First, we follow the example of Stein’s work (1999, 2002, ed. 2005), which has shown that broadly comparative cases help to identify generalizable or cross-cutting processes of colonialism: a “nuanced, holistic understanding of the complexities of colonial encounters” (Stein 2005:18) via comparative colonialism from a wide variety of historical contexts. When we engage in comparative approaches, we are faced with a series of scalar tensions: the specific versus the general, the historical versus the anthropological, the practical versus the theoretical, and the broad-brush perspective on human history versus the local and individual experiences constituted and oftentimes lost therein (Gosden 2004; Lightfoot 2005a, 2005b; Rothschild 2003; Stein 2005; Stein, ed. 2005; Voss and Casella, ed. 2012). The scale of archaeological perspectives provides interesting and productive entry points into colonial histories. Recognizing the valuable insights that archaeology’s on-the-ground perspective offers, researchers (Casella and Voss 2012:2; Lyons and Papadopoulos 2002:9) often frame archaeologies of colonialism—comparative or not—as upending, or at least complicating, standardized approaches to colonial history, which tend to begin with archives and the global or national scale. These disciplinary and scalar tensions reflect that a comparative approach can identify common concepts and categories but can also be used to deconstruct common (received) concepts and categories. The dual roles of comparison are particularly apropos in studying colonialism, a process that relies on the construction of new social categories and hierarchies, often through material culture (Gosden 2004). Moreover, these constructions are still in circulation as we design our research.

For example, Horning (2006a, 2006b, 2007) while focusing specifically on her research in Northern Ireland and on her efforts to compare English colonialism on both sides of the Atlantic, has voiced concerns with global historical archaeologies that reduce complex colonial contexts to universalized, black-and-white portrayals of the oppressive, agentive colonist on the one hand versus the oppressed, passive colonized on the other (top-down models). She has pointed out the ambiguities or “grey areas” in such contexts (2006a:188), noting that we must take “the agency of transcultural actors, skilled in the translation and mediation of multiple identities” into account when drawing comparisons rather than reifying the same old dichotomous tropes. This point resonates with other colonial researchers concerned with issues of agency (as in Stein 2005). In this volume we build upon such studies to recognize the delicate balance between the “powerful” and the “powerless,” using great care to avoid the trappings of neoliberalism, which run the risk of framing the potential of the “weapons of the weak” (Scott 1985) as limitless and fully liberating for colonized peoples despite the overarching colonial power structures in which they were or are enmeshed. An example of this balanced approach can be seen in the work of Kent Lightfoot, who has engaged in comparative colonialism for the purpose of identifying common factors while recognizing that those factors relate at least as much to indigenous histories as to colonizers’ strategies. These factors include colonial programs impacting native communities as well as political, subsistence, and settlement practices of those communities prior to colonization (Lightfoot 2005a, 2005b; Lightfoot et al. 2013; Panich 2013).

Common Themes

As we began the dialogues featured in this volume, we focused on a broad range of themes or processes that may be traced across cases: consumption, representations of temporality, slavery, diaspora, and the entanglement of descendant communities with archaeology. However, in drawing connections across case studies we realized that our comparisons converged on two main concepts: critical temporalities and critical geographies. By this we mean that compared cases radically challenge or lay bare the assumptions we have regarding the way archaeological subjects understood time and place. We find that an unexamined belief in the inevitability of colonial outcomes leads us to a flat and fixed view of temporality. Instead we could be open to a multitude of imagined futures and memorialized pasts (Colwell-Chanthaphonh 2010; Colwell-Chanthaphonh and Ferguson 2006). Critical temporalities take on the concepts of innovation, creativity, continuity, and tradition and ask that we trace how and when they are deployed rather than treating them as ahistoric processes. Too often we find that innovation is assumed to be the province and power behind colonists and tradition seen as the shrinking haven of the colonized. Critical temporalities highlight false distinctions between continuity and change or traditional and modern and assert the value in pondering perception and intention even when we know they may be empirically irretrievable.

Critical geographies similarly challenge our assumptions about fixed or objective boundaries, borders, belonging and exclusion, and centers with margins.¹ Such a challenge might implicate specific places or landscapes, but more often we find they lie in the geographic metaphors that underwrite colonial relations. The term “native” can operate on both levels, in some cases referencing a literal homeland yet also making a statement of place and belonging by calling out its opposite in “foreigner,” “immigrant,” or “colonist.” The ethnonym “Pequot” demonstrates this point precisely. Now native to southeastern Connecticut, the Pequot Indians are thought to have originally come from the middle Atlantic region of what is now the United States, making their way northwest to upstate New York before settling in Connecticut sometime before European contact. The precise meaning of the Algonquian name “Pequot” is still debated, but many gloss the name as “invader” or “destroyer” (Brooks 2006:9; Cave 1996:183), and most agree that it was a name imposed upon the group by neighboring tribes already settled in the area at the time of the Pequots’ arrival. In this case, European colonialism overwrote more distant forms of pre-European colonialism and cultural exchange in North America, making both invaders and locals “native” to European “newcomers.”

We see also how material culture may be used to mark (and mask) those distinctions of insider and outsider but that such meanings are subject to change as the scope of our local geography shifts, even to the point of globalizing, and can even reference multiple scales of geographic membership. The same may be said for the materiality of poverty that, as Mullins and Ylimaunu point out in this volume, is often framed in geographic terms of “mainstream” and “margin.” These too can be framed at a multitude of scales, as a global comparative perspective on poverty demonstrates. Critical geographies, in other words, are frameworks in which we must trace how “the local” is constructed. In this regard we follow Latour (2005), who attacks the problem of scale head-on by noting that global phenomena only exist as they are assembled locally, a point that many anthropological linguists have known for some time. For example, the rules of grammar (often conceived as overarching or large-scale) are created via local interactions by agents simultaneously aware and unaware of the rules they are enforcing, changing, and sometimes creating as they interact and communicate.

Second, drawing inspiration from debates over the interpretive impacts of generalization (Horning 2006a, 2007; Orser 2004, 2011; also Meskell 2002), authors in this volume acknowledge and explore acts of creativity, resilience, and resistance to colonial impositions as well as the broad structural violence of those impositions. In part this debate in interpretive focus stems directly from growing attention and accountability to political standpoints and self-reflexive attention to the standpoint of most scholars in archaeology. We would be irresponsible if we did not detail the suffering that occurred both in daily experience and in long-term prospects of those who did not wield control of colonial encounters. We would be equally remiss to frame disenfranchised populations—indigenous communities, enslaved or conscripted laborers—as utterly lacking in any craft or adaptability to survive such conditions. Worse, we subscribe to the trope of inevitability when we do not attend to such capabilities. But we argue that these do not have to be mutually exclusive perspectives on the past. Given the nature of the evidence and its articulation with archives, heritage, and oral histories, the power of archaeology lies in the capacity to tell multiple stories. In contemporary practice, we acknowledge the assertion of different stakeholders to choose the stories that do work for them. Christopher Matthews has written, for example, about his community-engaged work in Setauket, New York, where he wished to explore the nature and experience of poverty in a nineteenth- to twentieth-century community of black and Native American heritage. He found, however, that community members were quite resistant to this portrayal. They were familiar with that story, but they were instead interested in telling a story that would encourage their younger generations to stay in the community despite the lack of local opportunities (Matthews 2011). In this instance, poverty was obliquely addressed in the present-day concerns of a community dealing with structural inequality. There is a difference between conflicting versions of a story and complex stories that cause communities that have lived with them to choose strategic essentialism.

Finally, following the example of Lightfoot (2005a; Lightfoot et al. 2013), our comparative frameworks aim to indicate the impacts of colonial circumstances on both disciplinary assumptions and contemporary political and/or heritage struggles. An excellent corpus of interdisciplinary research has given us a broad understanding of the kinds of colonial programs that were deployed by British, Dutch, Spanish, French, and Russian colony administrators in North America, yet the outcomes of those programs varied greatly. Lightfoot reminds us that it was not only the aims and programs of colonizers but the histories and social-political structures of indigenous groups that shaped those outcomes. Such a perspective highlights the tensions discussed above, between representing the violence of colonial programs and the agency of the impacted peoples. A significant contribution of Lightfoot’s approach lies in specifically tracing the unfolding consequences of colonialism as a counter to the static representation of cultural identity used in contemporary legal or policy discourse. The value of a comparative approach is to demonstrate that a one-size-fits-all policy, whether related to sovereignty struggles or the control of heritage resources, cannot be applied despite similar colonial programs. Contributors attend to the ways in which colonialism is still experienced, how descendant communities appropriate colonial histories, and how our narratives change when we engage with public perceptions. This is a unifying theme for the various forms of colonialism discussed, whether from several hundred or several thousand years ago.

The unique and significant contribution in this volume is to bring all of these frameworks together, drawing upon the lessons of the past two decades of archaeological work in the charged political atmosphere of ongoing colonial consequences. The comparative aspect of the volume allows contributors to extend the relevance of these lessons well beyond their respective areas of expertise and to do much more than to explore the complexities of past colonial encounters in one region and time period. Instead contributors expose the commonalities and idiosyncrasies of their respective colonial contexts by juxtaposing and entangling them with other colonialisms, old and new. Case studies and synthesis pieces in the volume likewise critically analyze the discipline of archaeology as a means of engaging various publics, including indigenous and local communities (Atalay 2012), while also considering the impacts that public engagement has on archaeological interpretation, scholarship, and pedagogy. In short, we bring our interpretations of the past into critical dialogue with the present and future.

Contemporary Consequences and the Futures We Imagine

As noted above, critical temporalities help us think beyond the events and processes of the past and consider the future as well within the purview of archaeology. One way in which we can do so is to consider the colonial legacies we have inherited and the ones we imagine leaving behind us. In other words, the ways in which we represent colonialism in our work speak to the interventions we hope to make moving forward. These legacies are perhaps most conspicuous in the federal recognition process that Indian communities must go through in the United States in order to restore tribal sovereignty. For instance, certain types of evidence are given preference (written records), and issues of cultural authenticity, miscegenation, and race (as imposed on Indian peoples) are implicitly entangled in the evaluation of such cases, as are monolithic conceptions of colonial history, marginalization, and cultural evolution. This is one contemporary issue that American archaeologists have only recently begun to take seriously in their efforts to make differences in the world that extend beyond the ivory tower (Cipolla 2013; Lightfoot et al. 2013; Mrozowski et al. 2009). But these efforts draw upon the broad precedents and contemporaneous efforts in feminism, community-engaged research, and the recognition of archaeology’s role in nationalism (Little 2002; Spector 1993; Schmidt and Patterson 1995).

The use, protection, and representation of heritage resources is an important part of North American recognition cases but also plays a role in community identity across a broad spectrum of political circumstances. In the emergent field of heritage studies, the temporal component is key. Harrison (2013:4) notes, “Heritage is not a passive process of simply preserving things from the past that remain, but an active process of assembling a series of objects, places and practices that we choose to hold up as a mirror to the present, associated with a particular set of values that we wish to take with us into the future.” This does not merely mean assembling those aspects of the past in which society takes pride; it may also refer to heritage that is painful, that which cannot be forgotten in order to avoid its repetition, or to conflicting values that can elicit much-needed dialogue. The heritage of colonialism acts in both these senses and highlights the assertions of pluralistic colonial communities as to their place with regard to and relationship with a larger society, whether within, separate from, or in control of that society. These are the narratives of present or past actors to which our contributors draw attention.

One type of narrative concerns how our archaeological subjects could or did act in the face of colonial oppression. As discussed above, these narratives attend to agency and creativity on the one hand and the constraining power of colonial systems on the other. Our authors ask not whether past subjects could or could not act but rather how and where and to what end within an oppressive colonial structure they could do so. Two chapters addressing the issue of consumption frame these perspectives; while Cipolla explores Pequot and Brothertown Indian purchasing practices in relation to their broader cultural priorities and the prevailing market system, Mullins and Ylimaunu focus on the pervasive structural inequalities that underlie the particular acts of consumption for Finnish communities that are labeled “marginal.” In each case, the authors illustrate that neither systemic oppression nor the agency of the disenfranchised is fully comprehensible without a broadly contextualized and comparative perspective. Mrozowski, Gould, and Law Pezzarossi remind us that both agency and colonial structures have histories, varying through generations, and the significance of creative acts must be interpreted within historically contingent contexts. They offer the example of Nipmuc practices and material culture in colonized Massachusetts using the lens of social memory through which tradition is maintained in evolving circumstances.

Cornell discusses the concept of “innovation” as an aspect of agency, but he reminds us that the context of our interpretations is shaped by the long-term outcomes of colonialism. Thus before we may even take on the choice of focusing on oppression, agency, or the negotiations between them, we must critically unpack the perspectives and epistemological traditions in their use. This is another type of narrative or, if you like, meta-narrative that our contributors explore that draws particularly on critical temporalities and geographies as alternative ways of knowing. Cornell juxtaposes indigenous and colonial conceptions of landscape and settlement in the Iron Age Mediterranean and Spanish colonial Latin America. Hayes offers alternative perspectives on landscape with respect to Algonquian alliance and kinship and how that knowledge might translate into the categories of indigenous and diasporic peoples that contemporary scholars perhaps use uncritically. Categories that at their face appear to be easily definable, like poverty, are embedded in the archaeological record in rather complex ways, reflecting our situated assumptions, as Mullins and Ylimaunu deftly demonstrate. Even the appearance of relative abundance or highly valued materials can actually indicate the existence of structural deficiencies, as the authors’ comparative perspective reveals.

The contributions of alternative epistemological perspectives are amplified in narratives that result from engagement with contemporary stakeholders. In such cases, we can see not only the difference that standpoint makes but also most clearly the continued impacts of colonial categories and structures. Ferreira and Funari demonstrate that the multitude of disciplinary perspectives in Brazilian archaeology, including classical archaeologists with an interest in the issue of Roman slavery, combined with the political circumstances of independence created a scholarly focus on maroon communities (established by fugitives from slavery). Their focus has contributed greatly to a comparative perspective on slavery, but perhaps more importantly it has contributed to national discourse on the descendant maroon communities and to the embrace of diversity as a national heritage. As mentioned earlier, social and political recognition of Native American heritage highlights the ongoing impacts of colonialism; two chapters in this volume—by Hodge, Loren, and Capone and by Mrozowski, Gould, and Law Pezzarossi—address how descendant Algonquian peoples are actively engaged in the archaeology of their colonial ancestors by telling their own understandings of their forebears’ roles in colonial society. These perspectives are critical; most white Americans have little experience living in two or more cultural worlds that are often in conflict, but Indian people today know this all too well and recognize how such a situation in the seventeenth or eighteenth century might have been negotiated.

But how are we to bring this perspective to bear in colonial circumstances of much deeper history? Can there be ongoing consequences even to ancient Greek and Roman colonialism? Even lacking a traceable social memory, such impacts may be comparable and informative to more recent colonial processes. As Wells illustrates, the spread of Greek material culture, despite the absence of Greek colonies in many areas, precipitated a long period of change in temperate Europe, creating a more globalized cultural and political world; today, moreover, this heritage of Greek material figures in discussions of European identity. The reception of the Roman past through heritage sites in Britain occupies a still more complex social place, as Hingley shows. While identification, valorization, and the concept of Romanization are commonly accepted by British visitors to Roman sites, the more recent role of Britain as an imperial power in its own right has brought attention by scholars to the detrimental aspects of Roman colonization. How can these alternative narratives be brought to a British descendant public that lacks a comparable politics of indigeneity and has been fed a rich diet of popular portrayals of the Roman past? The contributions of Wells and Hingley cause us to consider what the truly long-term consequences of colonialism could be—like greater cosmopolitanism or the inability to identify with subaltern positions—even as they draw upon more recent comparative cases to interpret the deeper past.

As our summarizing chapters by Silliman and Horning emphasize, the comparative archaeologies of colonialism acknowledge but cannot—perhaps should not—resolve the tensions in conflicting perspectives. Is it better for indigenous and other disenfranchised communities for our focus to lie in the shorter-term violence and upheaval of colonial entanglements or in the longer-term persistence of cultural practices and community identity? Likewise, is it better to focus on structures of violence or on the agency of creative responses? In a sense we are pondering the choice between the crisis mode of modernity’s narratives and a longer view or even cyclical sense of history’s unfolding. The colonial narratives presented in this volume demonstrate that these choices are false ones, as we need all of these perspectives—not in the form of some Cartesian, objective view of all history, but in the sense that we struggle with the multitude of standpoints informing political discourse, that we use our broadened view of colonialism to decolonize our language, practice, and scholarship.

Note

1. In the use of the term “critical geography” we are not explicitly referencing the frameworks of the geographer David Harvey, although our usage does share some of his broad aims.

References Cited

Atalay, Sonya

2012Community-Based Archaeology: Research with, by, and for Indigenous and Local Communities. University of California Press, Berkeley.

Brooks, Joanna

2006“This Indian World”: An Introduction to the Writings of Samson Occom. In The Collected Writings of Samson Occom: Literature and Leadership in Eighteenth-Century Native America, edited by Joanna Brooks, pp. 1–43. Oxford University Press, Oxford.

Casella, Eleanor Conlin, and Barbara L. Voss

2012Intimate Encounters: An Archaeology of Sexualities within Colonial Worlds. In The Archaeology of Colonialism: Intimate Encounters and Sexual Effects, edited by Barbara L. Voss and Eleanor Conlin Casella, pp. 1–10. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.

Cave, Alfred A.

1996The Pequot War. University of Massachusetts Press, Amherst.

Cipolla, Craig N.

2013Becoming Brothertown: Native American Ethnogenesis and Endurance in the Modern World. University of Arizona Press, Tucson.

Colwell-Chanthaphonh, Chip

2010Living Histories: Native Americans and Southwest Archaeology. AltaMira Press, Lanham, Maryland.

Colwell-Chanthaphonh, Chip, and T. J. Ferguson

2006Memory Pieces and Footprints: Multivocality and the Meanings of Ancient Times and Ancestral Places among the Zuni and Hopi. American Anthropologist 108(1):148–162.

Gosden, Chris

2004Archaeology and Colonialism: Culture Contact from 5000 BC to Present. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, England.

Harrison, Rodney

2013Heritage: Critical Approaches. Routledge, London.

Horning, Audrey J.

2006aArchaeology, Conflict, and Contemporary Identity in the North of Ireland. Implications for Theory and Practice in Comparative Archaeologies of Colonialism. Archaeological Dialogues 13(2):183–200.

2006bFocus Found. New Directions for Irish Historical Archaeology. Archaeological Dialogues 13(2):211–219.

2007Cultures of Contact, Cultures of Conflict? Identity Construction, Colonialist Discourse, and the Ethics of Archaeological Practice in Northern Ireland. Stanford Journal of Archaeology 5:107–133.

Latour, Bruno

2005Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network-Theory. Oxford University Press, Oxford.

Lightfoot, Kent G.

2005aIndians, Missionaries, and Merchants: The Legacy of Colonial Encounters on the California Frontiers. University of California Press, Berkeley.

2005bThe Archaeology of Colonization: California in Cross-Cultural Perspective. In The Archaeology of Colonial Encounters: Comparative Perspectives, edited by G. Stein, pp. 207–235. School of American Research Press, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Lightfoot, Kent G., Lee M. Panich, Tsim D. Schneider, Sara L. Gonzalez, Matthew A. Russell, Darren Modzelewski, Theresa Molino, and Elliot H. Blair

2013The Study of Indigenous Political Economies and Colonialism in Native California: Implications for Contemporary Tribal Groups and Federal Recognition. American Antiquity 78(1):89–104.

Little, Barbara J. (editor)

2002Public Benefits of Archaeology. University Press of Florida, Gainesville.

Lyons, Claire L., and John K. Papadopoulos

2002Archaeology and Colonialism. In The Archaeology of Colonialism, edited by C. Lyons and J. K. Papadopoulos, pp. 1–26. Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles.

Lyons, Claire L., and John K. Papadopoulos (editors)

2002The Archaeology of Colonialism. Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles.

Matthews, Christopher N.

2011Lonely Islands: Culture, Community, and Poverty in Archaeological Perspective. Historical Archaeology 45(3):41–54.

Meskell, Lynn

2002The Intersections of Identity and Politics in Archaeology. Annual Review of Anthropology 31:279–301.

Mrozowski, Stephen A., Holly Herbster, David Brown, and Katherine L. Priddy

2009Magunkaquog Materiality, Federal Recognition, and the Search for a Deeper History. International Journal of Historical Archaeology 13:430–463.

Orser, Charles E. Jr.

2004Archaeological Interpretation and the Irish Diasporic Community. In Places in Mind: Public Archaeology as Applied Anthropology, edited by P. A. Shackel and E. J. Chambers, pp. 171–191. Routledge, New York.

2011The Archaeology of Poverty and the Poverty of Archaeology. International Journal of Historical Archaeology 15:533–543.

Panich, Lee M.

2013Archaeologies of Persistence: Reconsidering the Legacies of Colonialism in Native North America. American Antiquity 78(1): 105–122.

Rothschild, Nan A.

2003Colonial Encounters in a Native American Landscape: the Spanish and Dutch in North America. Smithsonian Books, Washington, D.C.

Schmidt, Peter R., and Thomas C. Patterson (editors)

1995Making Alternative Histories: The Practice of Archaeology and History in Non-Western Settings. School of American Research Press, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Scott, James C.

1985Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance. Yale University Press, New Haven.

Spector, Janet D.

1993What This Awl Means: Feminist Archaeology at a Wahpeton Dakota Village. Minnesota Historical Society Press, St. Paul.

Stein, Gil J.

1999Rethinking World-Systems: Diasporas, Colonies, and Interaction in Uruk Mesopotamia. University of Arizona Press, Tucson.

2002From Passive Periphery to Active Agents: Emerging Perspectives in the Archaeology of Interregional Interaction. American Anthropologist 104(3):903–916.

2005Introduction: The Comparative Archaeology of Colonial Encounters. In The Archaeology of Colonial Encounters: Comparative Perspectives, edited by Gil J. Stein, pp. 1–32. School of American Research Press, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Stein, Gil J. (editor)

2005The Archaeology of Colonial Encounters: Comparative Perspectives. School of American Research Press, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Voss, Barbara L., and Eleanor Conlin Casella (editors)

2012The Archaeology of Colonialism: Intimate Encounters and Sexual Effects. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.