



The land and rivers, of course, have been central to Indigenous culture and identity for “at least 13,000 years,” states the catalog. But access to both have been denied and/or restricted through treaties and laws such as 1980 Settlement Acts, which forced Wabanaki Nations to relinquish claims on 2.5 million acres of land. Sierra Autumn Henries (Chaubunagungamaug Nipmuck) tackles this issue of access in “Full Circle.”
As we approach it, we see a metal sign reading “Private Property. No trespassing.” Coming closer, however, we notice a knob at the top that opens the box behind the sign. Inside is an intricate circular pyrography design (made by burning it into birch bark). We are invited to decide whether to leave the box open or closed as we move to the next work.
Suzanne Greenlaw (Maliseet) critiques another kind of restricted access: to cultural knowledge and artifacts that rightfully belong to sovereign Indigenous Nations. “The Ceramic Period” presents a female figure in an orange prison jumpsuit kneeling before an empty museum case on a pedestal.
What is missing from the case is a rare form of Wabanaki pottery held by a museum that offers the Wabanaki no access to it, which would help these tribes understand more about who they were. The jumpsuit obviously symbolizes activism penalized by prison. The clay female figure itself, Greenlaw states, “is symbolic of our clay teachings — a living entity — who is waiting for the return of her children.” Her hands, one of which clasps a length of braided seagrass, are bound behind her, pointing to yet another law that restricted Wabanaki tribe access to the sweetgrass they use in traditional basketry.
Not all exhibits highlight the clash of cultures between Indigenous people and white society and/or its systems. James Eric Francis Sr. (Penobscot) contributes a dot painting inspired by oral traditions of Klooscap, an ancient Wabanaki hero who shot an arrow into a tree and, in so doing, created all the animals.