On the Pacific Northwest coast—and around the world—community archaeology is helping people reconcile with each other and their history.
Tiny fountains rise, sparkle, and splash back down on the intertidal zone of Xwe’etay, or Lasqueti Island, British Columbia. It’s as if the clams squirt in response to the beat of the Salish drums. Over 70 people have gathered amid the sharp shells and algae slicks of this low summer tide. Our circle includes Indigenous people, residents, anthropologists, archaeologists, and visitors. We’re here to get a sense of the deep human history of this place and ponder how we might live with it together.
Following a welcome ceremony of stories and song, we pick our way across the foreshore as False Bay continues to drain. Tla’amin Elder Betty Wilson leans on her walking stick beside me. Her expression is both focused and serene. She wears water shoes, rolled-up jeans, and a cedar-green T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of the Xwe’etay/Lasqueti Archaeology Project (XLAP). Host of today’s public education event, XLAP also surveys and studies the island’s archaeological sites. Instead of relying on a traditional top-down structure of experts arriving from some ivory tower to define the history of a place, XLAP includes a diversity of people, such as Indigenous elders, students, and landowners—anyone with a connection to the island. Volunteers take part in low-impact archaeology, such as helping take core samples, and they help interpret what they find. They’re active participants in uncovering the past, not just passive observers of work carried out by academics. It’s an example of “community archaeology,” part of a movement gaining momentum around the world.
Wilson’s home is on the mainland, just 43 kilometers northwest of Xwe’etay. A retired schoolteacher, she’s a fluent speaker and tireless promoter of ʔayʔaǰuθəm (Tla’amin), her people’s Coast Salish language.