My response to the ArchInk prompt, “The Best Rubbish.” This is one of my favorite historic artifacts I’ve observed while surveying, a small pink tube of women’s underarm and footcream deodorant from the 1930s. I went down a rabbit hole of advertising for these products from that time and they are horrendous! Who knew a lack of deodorant could shipwreck marriages? Make a woman dumb? And so much more! There’s a wonderful article by Sarah Everts in Smithsonian Magazine about how advertising companies tried to convince women they smelled bad and needed their products: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/how-advertisers-convinced-americans-they-smelled-bad-12552404/.
Here’s my contribution for Day 1 of Archaeology Inkotober 2021, the prompt being “Uncommon Ground.” The transition from one’s specialty area to another can feel a bit jarring at times. Yes, the process of analysis is similar across the board when it comes to ceramics and lithics, recording structures, etc. but actually being able to find said artifacts can be tough. I had gotten so used to my high desert environments, where there’s a field house, pueblo, or crazy huge artifact scatter every few meters, that moving to an area requiring shovel tests to see if anything–anything at all–was on the landscape, was a hard shift. But, no matter what, no matter where, there’s archaeology if people were there.
I don’t know about you, but I measure my year in bugs. Archaeology Inktober 2020, Prompt #7: Season.
Archaeology Inktober, Prompt #6: Selfie. I may be a slow surveyor, and have tendency to trip over my own feet, but I can record the Sh*t out of a site.
Here is a page from the coloring book I created for the Coconino National Forest called “A Kids Guide to Archaeology.’ You can download the whole coloring book (it’s free!) from the Coconino website:
Consider the following:
“You know you’re an archeologist… when with a BA in Anthropology, field school, and post grad work as a field tech, you have never labeled yourself as an archeologist because in the purest form, you haven’t earned that title. Then you cringe when the non-degree holding, no field school, no anthro studies, shovel bum, I mean field tech, who is new to the community tells everyone he IS an archeologist. UGH!!”
A woman posted the above not too long ago on an archaeology-themed Facebook group and it spurred a variety of reactions from, ‘what the hell?!’ to ‘Ugh, I know! So, frustrating.’ My fellow Women in Archaeology Podcast hosts chatted a bit about our own reactions to the post. Our overarching response was why on earth would she not consider herself an archaeologist? There’s a lot to unpack in just these two sentences. Let’s consider the first . . .
“ . . . have never labeled yourself as an archaeologist because in the purest form, you haven’t earned that title.”
This individual indicates that she has a great deal of experience and education in archaeology, so why wouldn’t she consider herself as an archaeologist? I am loud and proud about my archaeologist status—I have earned it through experience (i.e. blood, sweat, and tears) and education (i.e. BA and MA in anthropology and archaeology). Now, why wouldn’t she do the same? One of the possible things going on here is called ‘imposter syndrome.’ There are numerous articles describing this syndrome by Time, Scientific American, The New York Times, and so on. In a nutshell, imposter syndrome is the fear that you will be exposed as a fraud if you claim to be one thing or another, despite numerous accomplishments supporting your claims. For example, you could never really be an archaeologist unless you fit the ideal—no matter how you strive, you simply are not good enough to have that title.
What does it mean to be an archaeologist in the ‘purest form’? Is there really such a thing? The pursuit of archaeology is conducted in a variety of forms, from the lab to the field, from academia to cultural resource management (CRM). Being an archaeologist can mean surveying hundreds of miles or studying bones or analyzing ancient poop—there are many ways to be an archaeologist. Consequently, ispso facto, therefore, forsooth, you—individual who posted this discussion inspiring post— are an archaeologist. If you fear being called out for not having the specific qualifications to be the perfect archaeologist, don’t be. No archaeologist is perfect. And, the requirements for what it means to be an archaeologist are determined more by the type of career you hope pursue than some overarching label of what archaeology is supposed to be. It is the job where the necessary education and/or experience comes in.
On to the second part of the post . . . “non-degree holding, no field school, no anthro studies, shovel bum, I mean field tech is new to the community.”
Now, there is something to be said about experience. I have met many older archaeologists who learned on the job, before more rigid (and necessary) qualifications were put into place. They have more knowledge of the field than I could ever hope to gain, however, that does not negate my education and fewer years of experience. We can work together to really do some really great work.
Currently, If you search for any kind of archaeology fieldwork job, there is typically a list of requirements that any archaeology technician must have, including some coursework in archaeology, as well as some kind of field school. So, it is hard to imagine there’s a shovel bum out there with zero schooling in archaeology or anthropology, no field school, and no experience in the field. I’ve been an arch tech and I’ve taught arch techs—everyone has to have some understanding of the discipline. Otherwise, they can do more damage than good at a site or on a survey. It makes me wonder if a conflict transpired between this individual and the shovel bum. It is not uncommon for PHd’s having trouble finding work right out of graduate school (I struggled right after my MA) and having to work at a lower level within CRM. It may rankle to be at the same level as someone right out of college—but, that’s not the arch tech’s fault, and trust me, we’ve all been there.
What’s important is to showcase your knowledge, but also admit what you don’t know. It is not helpful, whether you are the crew chief or the arch tech, to exaggerate your experience, since limits will show once the work starts. Be proud of what you have achieved and be a role model for those who want to get the same level of education and experience, but just aren’t there yet. If you confront someone who claims to be the best archaeologist in the world, but by no means has the skills, don’t worry about them—it will show in their work. And, any crew chief, assistant crew chief, etc worth their salt, will notice, too.
There’s nothing quite like being woken from a deep slumber on a CRM camping project by someone yelling ‘BEAR!’ at the top of their lungs.
I’d read that.
My crew chief once threatened to tie me to the site weather balloon since I was the smallest on the crew and took decent photos.