Dr. Susan C. Ryan, Executive Vice President of the Research Institute at Crow Canyon
I’ll let you in on a little secret, a secret only archaeologists (and our cousins the paleontologists) are privy to…When we meet a stranger for the first time and they ask us what we do for a living, we can bet our right pinky finger they will respond rapidly and without hesitation, saying, “Wow! You dig up dinosaurs! What is the coolest thing you have ever found?”
Now, I fully acknowledge I have entered a profession (sans dinosaurs) that infinitely fascinates and delights non-archaeologists—not to mention we provide endless content for compelling entertainment at social gatherings (i.e., let me tell you the story of when I almost relieved myself on a rattlesnake behind a sagebrush…).
I further acknowledge humans, including myself, are infinitely intrigued by the “stuff” of other humans. As such, when asked by a stranger about “cool stuff,” I summon the willpower to emphatically deliver an “oh, what an interesting question!” as I conjure an intentionally disappointing answer that never aligns to their wildest fantasies of my daily work life…imaginations no doubt colored by the Ark of the Covenant, the pursuit of Crystal Skulls, and death-defying snake pits, as experienced by one Professor Indiana Jones.
My honest, non-entertaining, and boring (to them) response is the same each time; I quote David Hurst Thomas: “It’s not what you find, it’s what you find out!” They stare at me puzzled, feeling cheated and deflated, looking around for other people they’d rather converse with. I go on to explain artifacts, or belongings, are anything made, used, and modified by people and it’s the context of belongings (where something is found and what it’s found with) and inferences of past human behaviors that are the “coolest things” we can find (out).
Despite their egregious eye rolls, or perhaps because of them, I continue my soap box rant. The inferences we gather about past human behaviors illuminate the economic, political, social, and religious health of societies throughout the world and we can learn from those who came before to alleviate suffering in the present and future…this is what matters most! It’s not about the lone jigsaw puzzle piece; it’s about how the pieces fit together to create a wholistic picture! It’s not about one random page in your favorite Harry Potter book; it’s about a fantastical story told from beginning to end when all pages are combined!
As they look over my shoulder in a desperate attempt to find the nearest exit, I continue pontificating, noting past belongings hold cultural significance in ways Western scientific minds don’t fully comprehend, including mine. Discussing objects as “cool” may be insensitive, trivializing, and disrespectful to the descendants of the peoples who created, used, and cherished them.
Recognizing I’m seconds away from losing my captive, I strategically deliver one final disappointment (er, I mean lesson) as I share the following: Instead of asking what is the coolest thing we’ve ever found, a better approach is to ask “what is the most revealing thing about humanity you’ve ever learned, and how did your work contribute to this knowledge?” Then you won’t need to look for the nearest exit when you meet an archaeologist sitting on their soapbox next to you on the plane or at a dinosaur-themed birthday party.