Literature Review

Literature Review: Reparative Archiving

The archival field is in the throes of a conceptual revolution that is transforming the discipline and those who practice within it. The days of thinking about archival work as a neutral process undertaken by objective agents has ended, and new narratives have emerged that focus on the potential for justice-based approaches to the field. The umbrella term “reparative archiving” encapsulates new models that focus on assembling and describing collections in ways that support marginalized voices, combat the rhetoric of problematic master narratives, and seek to upend power imbalances that have hitherto been perpetuated by professionals within the information management field. This literature review will present some of the most critical perspectives on the work of reparative archival practice.

Reparative archiving is a term used to describe a type of practice that actively seeks to redress grievances, work against power imbalances, and create more inclusive narratives and collections. What does reparative archival work look like in practice? Hughes-Watkins (2018) states the following: The research suggests an approach for academic institutions to repair past injuries through a holistic approach, by normalizing acquisitions of the oppressed, advocating, and utilizing primary resources that reflect society and that can provide a means to disengage with and prevent recordkeeping that systematically removes or intercepts the voices of the “other” (pg. 5).

Using Kent State as a case study, Hughes-Watkins argues that reparative archiving must involve a three-pronged approach. The first aspect involves acquisitions (diversifying holdings, addressing gaps in the archival record that support master narratives and limit marginalized voices), the second focuses on exhibition and advocacy, and the third deals with utilization, or an increased engagement with student groups, faculty education, and other forms of outreach. Another critical aspect that Hughes-Watkins does not devote space to is the use of language within the archive itself.

Tai (2020) argues that it has become necessary for institutions to conduct comprehensive audits to identify offensive or oppressive language that is used to describe collections. Such an undertaking will enlist archivists in efforts to understand the ways in which specific language harms and impacts groups and cultures other than their own. The term “cultural competency” is often used to label approaches that seek to gain knowledge and awareness of a variety of perspectives and ways of describing knowledge. Shelstad (2018) introduces readers to the practice of cultural competency as it was implemented at the University of Texas at San Antonio, arguing that cultural competency requires archivists to become aware of their own and other cultures in order to understand how their institutions might contribute to inequality and power imbalances. Tai (2020), however, argues that the practice of “cultural humility” (as opposed to cultural competency) is a more effective way for archivists and librarians to engage in critical self-reflection, hold their institutions accountable, and challenge power imbalances. Approaching archival description through the lens of cultural humility means denouncing archival neutrality and continually reflecting upon and identifying one’s positionality. Tai also insists that institutional transparency is an integral aspect of anti-oppressive archival description; institutions should detail the efforts they are making to redescribe materials and engage with the public during the process. Transparency in the archival process is also advocated for by Duff and Harris (2002), who claim that for archivists, “the process is as important as the product” (pg. 284). Cultural humility also requires archivists to collaborate with their communities, and emphasizes a user-centric model that normalizes the fact that archivists are not omniscient; they will never have all the answers or gain full “competency” of other cultures, and will need to engage in continual dialogue and self-assessment. Tai also engages in a discussion of postmodernist frameworks that see archives as existing in a perpetual state of “becoming”(pg. 8). Many of these postmodern frameworks attack the position of archivists as neutral, citing scholars who argue for challenging presumed whiteness and the normative position that accompanies it.

In “Retelling as Resistance,” Tai (2018) addresses another important aspect of archiving that requires archivists to engage in critiquing and adjusting how materials are described and accessed. When archives are publicly accessible via the internet, “misinformation is even quicker to spread,” and when “culturally inappropriate terminology” is used to describe or provide access to resources, archivists can become complicit in proliferating harmful discourse to greater audiences (pg. 14). The increased focus on mis and disinformation has only increased since the 2016 election and the COVID-19 pandemic. Caswell (2017) argues that in light of Donald Trump’s election, “LIS faculty members must intervene pedagogically to respond to the needs of their most vulnerable students and to address issues of structural oppression in the classroom” (pg. 223). This can be done, Caswell argues, by dismantling the racist structures that ensure white dominance and the oppression of people of color. Caswell includes a graphic created by Gracen Brilmyer that emphasizes concrete steps to be taken by those in the archival profession. The graphic includes calls for training in cultural humility, increased access to materials created by communities of color, and transparent audits of finding aids that use “outdated white supremacist language” (pg. 226).

One area of the literature on the topic of reparative archiving focuses on the lack of representation of those from minority groups among the archival profession. Warren (2016) produces evidence showing that deliberately exclusive hiring practices still persist in the archival profession, especially for Black women, who make up a minuscule percentage of those working in the field. The predictable result of this exclusion is that access to archival materials on Black women is limited and the collections themselves often marginalized, forgotten, or incorrectly described. Warren calls for “black persons to manage collections in which they are subjects” so as to take “part in shaping their own identities” through the construction of new archival narratives (pg. 778). Exclusion and omission are two spectres that continue to haunt the work of archivists. Jules (2018) argues that a harmful “lack of care” is a distinguishing feature of archival collections that are complicit in erasures, silences, and gaps in records representing marginalized communities. The “tradition of exclusion” that permeates the archival field deserves a “critical response” in order to begin implementing the changes needed to reverse the narratives that continue to harm underrepresented groups. Similarly, Caswell & Cifor (2016) suggest shifting theoretical models of archives from a focus on individual rights to one that espouses a feminist ethics of care, in which radical empathy plays a decisive role in archival practice.

Literature on new, more culturally informed archival practices is not limited to journal articles. Another source that contributes to the ongoing dialogue surrounding archival practices and justice can be found in the Protocols for Native American Archival Materials. This living document outlines standards and practices that can be used when conducting archival work surrounding materials related to Indigenous communities. The authors argue that “the use of outdated, inaccurate, derogatory, or Eurocentric language impedes access” to these resources, and that “the addition of culturally appropriate and accurate language” to both original titles and finding aids is called for. The authors are particularly aware that “offensive language or other injurious perspectives and information may be inherent” in the materials themselves, but offer concrete suggestions for dealing with this issue. One such suggestion includes adding explanations of derogatory words to their original titles (including naming when and by whom the title was created) or simply removing the offensive language and substituting it for more culturally appropriate terminology. Speaking from a perspective that highlights Indigenous knowledges and the role colonialism plays in archival description, Duarte and Belarde-Lewis (2015) state that “adopting and including terms that reflect the experiences and perspectives of the marginalized is a step toward the redress of colonial power” (pg. 682). The authors address ways in which cataloging and archiving function as techniques of colonization, and among a multitude of other suggestions, call for information professionals to imagine new forms of description that create space for Indigenous epistemologies. Similarly to Warren (2016), Duarte and Belarde-Lewis convincingly argue for Indigenous communities to harness their information resources and use them to take control of artifacts and narratives that have been historically controlled by settler communities.

Up to this point, it has become clear that ethics and ideas about justice play a substantial role in new formulations of archival practice. Sangwand (2018) introduces the concept of “contributive justice” in order to place postcustodial praxis within an explicitly social justice framework (pg. 2). Contributive justice “emphasizes that justice is achieved not when certain benefits are received, but rather when there is both the duty and opportunity for everyone to contribute labor and decision-making” (pg. 2). Rather than taking the perspective of distributive justice (what do underserved or marginalized groups need), contributive justice focuses on the agency of various communities, and seeks to bring about opportunities for all to play a part in knowledge creation and access. Warren (2016) also touches on notions of justice for reparative archiving by elaborating on cognitive justice, which seeks to introduce diverse knowledges into archival discourse. Epistemic violence can be countered by a new focus on underrepresented knowledges that can contribute new methods and approaches to archival description. This can be seen as an expansive form of a line of thinking that centers around the importance of inclusion within the archival record. Rather than emphasizing the importance of diversity and inclusion, however, Sutherland and Purcell (2021) argue for an archival practice that espouses justice and liberation. Through the framework of Indigenous epistemologies and Critical Race Theory, the authors advocate for decolonizing descriptive practices and the use of redescription as a liberatory tool. Counternarratives can be employed to write against marginalizing master narratives and produce archives that are focused on “justice-oriented archival practice” (pg. 62). An example of the type of work being done in this vein is the creation of a finding aid for The Queen Liliʻuokalani Manuscript Collection in ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi that exists separately from the already existing English finding aid. The argument is that it is necessary to create an entirely new document (rather than translate the existing one) in order to avoid repeating problematic or inaccurate descriptions that compose the English document. Instead of simply folding diverse groups of voices within the archival record, authors like Sutherland and Purcell take the bolder approach of seeking out ways in which previously silenced voices can speak in their own name, and by doing so, work to transform the dominant discourses that drive archival practice.

Special collections librarians and archivists have traditionally been seen as caretakers whose central task (among many others) is to help users navigate the landscape of documents and materials held by the repository. But as more and more attention is paid to the “failures of care” that Jules (2018) discusses, new roles and objectives are being outlined for archivists that seek to work for a more just information landscape. According to this chorus of new voices, materials like finding aids that contain harmful language and treat the white male perspective as the neutral position must be transformed. The necessary work needed to address these changes must utilize the lens of cultural humility in order to turn the failure of care into an ongoing effort to engage with the troubled histories reflected in our archives.

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