Archaeologies of the Heart marks a formal introduction to archaeology of a “heart-centered” approach, which is more commonly located within care-based disciplines, such as health care or patient/people-based disciplines. Adapting this approach to archaeology makes sense given the intrinsic ties of archaeology to people, those whose heritage is centered in archaeological studies, students, collaborators, the archaeologist, and the public. The editors of this volume—Kisha Supernant, Jane Eva Baxter, Natasha Lyons, and Sonya Atalay—indicate that the adaptation of a heart-centered approach rejects concepts of impartiality, dispassionate reasoning, and judgment that have dominated bioethics, and more broadly, Western science, including the orthodoxy of archaeology.

Each editor either works from an Indigenous position, produces Indigenous-centered scholarship, and/or intersects with feminisms—a proponent of Indigenous archaeology. They commissioned Anishnaabe artist David Shananaquet for the cover artwork, providing an elegant positioning of the ode'iminan, or seed/heartberry (wild strawberry), which acts as a metaphor for the intellectual work contained in this edited volume: the rhizomes link together each individual contribution, suggesting an Indigenous framing in this volume.

Offering a plurality of heart-centered approaches, editors Kisha Supernant and Natasha Lyons provide an introduction exploring their own theoretical evolution while offering context of heart-centered archaeology as an expansive archaeology, allowing us to bring our whole selves to our work—an ethical positioning requiring reflexivity. What follows is an approach to heart-centeredness, which allows each contributor to present from their own heart-centered position and leaves the reader wondering what a heart-centered approach in archaeology is. Is it loving one's work? Caring about those one's work intersects with, such as communities, colleagues, students? Is it recognizing the humanity of one's research partners/subjects (for some), or that the humans who lived/created the archaeological past did so with love, care, fear, anticipation, excitement, or a wide range of emotion? Would Archaeologies of the Heart be the much-anticipated scholarship standing in resistance to the conservative orthodoxy of the discipline?

North American archaeology has long been defined by Franz Boas and his determination to ground the discipline within the “rigors” of Western scientific inquiry, including the fallacy of scientific objectivism. In contrast, each contribution of a heart-centered approach in this volume presents a style of writing that is both personal and reflexive—an act of resistance. The volume is organized into three parts: Part I, “Heart-Centered Guidance for Practice and Engagement”; Part II, “Heart-Centered Encounters with the Archaeological Record”; and Part III, “From Seeds to Blossoms: Reflection and Discussion.” Each offers clearly defined themes.

Part I provides an opportunity for clarity, a moment to delineate this approach from its predecessors. It begins with John Welch professing his profound love for “doing” archaeology. His moving testament lacks reflexivity or critique of the colonial privilege at the foundations of our discipline, reminding us that love alone is not enough, lest we forget that some of the most harmful research has been conducted by researchers who “love” archaeology. Subsequent chapters in Part I demonstrate the ways that archaeology can grow and benefit from heart-centered approaches. Some contributors offer suggestions through the vulnerability of sharing their own personal and intellectual growth with respect to Indigenous-centered work (Tanja Hoffman), whereas others (Uzma Rizvi, Sarah Surface-Evans) demonstrate the optimism and possibility of critical inquiry, referencing transdisciplinary Black and Queer feminist scholarship often overlooked in archaeology (e.g., bell hooks, Sarah Ahmed).

Part II reveals ongoing challenges in determining what a heart-centered approach looks like in application. Contributions in this section evidence thoughtful and creative approaches—encouraging transparent engagement and embodied practice, recognizing the emotional impacts of research and teaching (Jane Eva Baxter), and researching expressions of emotion in facial depictions at Pompeii (Torill Christine Lindstrøm). These instances of embodied reflexive practice allow researchers to identify the inherent humanity of both ourselves and those who are at the core of our scholarship. Seeing and affirming our humanity provides the opportunity to develop new frameworks, but it is not itself a framework, nor does it inherently challenge the orthodoxy. To do so would suggest that orthodox archaeology does not care about humanity.

Part III concludes with reflections on early experiences with heart-centered engagements stemming from feminist frameworks, including the importance of mentorship and support. Ruth Tringham and Margaret Conkey remind us that feminism was a transgressive endeavor. It was feminism that taught us we could love archaeology while also engaging in critique, demonstrating hope and changing the discipline for the better.

Despite the well-outlined sections and contributions from gifted scholars, there is a lack of cohesion in Archaeologies of the Heart, which is required if we are to imagine a framework for broad and transformative implementation. Until Sonya Atalay's chapter, challenges to the orthodoxy of archaeology elude the volume, partly due to the multiple reassurances that a heart-centered approach is “rigorous,” echoing an argument to which Western orthodoxy clings. This affirmation has additional consequences, considering challenges the discipline faces in becoming more diverse and accessible. There is an initial reimagining of “rigor” in the introduction (Natasha Lyons and Kisha Supernant), but its recurrent use without reflection affirms notions that scholarship must be inflexible and unyielding to be ordained relevant—a concept at odds with heart-centeredness.

In Part III, Sonya Atalay allows us to visualize the future of heart-centered approaches in archaeology. Focusing on  the heartberry metaphor, she begins by weaving each contribution together within her own storywork. Her chapter introduces and highlights Indigenous science and scholarship that transcends disciplinary bounds (e.g., Jo Ann Archibald, Kahente Horn-Miller, Robin Kimmerer, Lori Lambert, Shawn Wilson), demonstrating the transformational promise of a heart-centered framework. The graphic of an “Indigenous Research Paradigm” (IRP) by Lori Lambert in Atalay's chapter (https://www.americanindigenousresearchassociation.org/mission/spider-conceptual-framework/) illustrates “heart-centered” as wholly Indigenous, underscoring the heart as part of a web of connections that emphasize relationality, responsibility, reciprocity, and rematriation/repatriation.

Atalay's chapter not only speaks to this Indigenized heart-centered approach but also demonstrates its implementation, acting as the rhizomes that bring cohesion to the volume. Recognizing that each contribution is reflective of one or more elements of the IRP, Atalay locates the strength in each and reminds us that it is the interconnectedness that becomes powerfully reflective of working toward an Indigenous heart-centered approach. Her chapter outlines an avenue to realize the transformative power and cohesion I had hoped to find throughout this volume.

Archaeologies of the Heart highlights various approaches to teaching, research, writing, and mentoring, and it addresses concerns of the impartial, dehumanized, and inauthentic practices on which Western science and colonized intellectual spaces have placed value. This volume urges us to explore issues of trust, ethics, and embodied critical practice, and to engage in a fearless transformation of decolonizing together. Archaeology needs a reframing for the future. Archaeologies of the Heart offers glimpses of that future within heart-centered approaches that benefit from the structure and guidance of Indigenous perspectives.