You Don’t Own Me:  Don’t tie me down ‘cause I’ll never stay

Curatorial Statement by Mel Arthur (Amherst College, Class of 2025)

Instead of stepping away from the little objects and their violence, I invite you first to step closer. Pay attention to figurines' exaggerated skin tone, their bright red lips, what their body rests on or is positioned on, and their eyes that bulge out abnormally. Then take a look at the magazine and the children’s book. Compare and contrast both figures on their covers. It is not easy, is it? Why?

Most of these objects (sans the modern magazine cover) depict negative representations of African American people. These figurines craft Black people as lesser and cement them in stereotypes that aid in their subjugation. They craft ideas of beauty that view Black people and their features in a limited way. 

I flinch every time I take a closer look at these figurines and the hierarchies/representations they seek to legitimize. Yet when I slide my eyes over to the beautiful Michaela Coel on the magazine cover, I remember that resistance to their stereotypes is and has been possible. Black people for years have reclaimed their image, fighting back against stereotypes and saying strongly: “You Don’t Own Me.” Coel’s features are beautiful, they are sharp, and they are Black. I look at her and remember my beauty, even against all the odds, is resistance. This is the legacy I invite you to take away as you glance at these figurines and images—a legacy of Black hope, movement, and most importantly, beauty.

Don’t Put Me On Display: Don’t try to change me in any way

Curatorial Statement by the students of Literature in Conversation, a course taught by Dr. Lisa Brooks at Amherst College

The objects in this case represent stereotypical views of Native American people. Most objects in this display are a mockery and insult to Native people, which are contrasted by pieces throughout the space that highlight Indigenous people fighting against stereotypes and inaccurate representations, asserting their own identities and experience. This display is intended to raise questions for viewers about settler stereotypes and harmful misrepresentations that in some ways still persist. We invite you to look closer. 

The Little Trapper is a story about a boy who goes into the woods and sets a trap for a fox so that the “little Indian girl” could make a fox-fur pillow. Throughout the story, the name of the girl is not mentioned—she is only called the “little Indian girl.” It is demeaning that her name is never used, but the little trapper’s name is. She is pushed to the margins, reduced to just her race and her gender. The object represents the active exclusion and writing-out of Indigenous women and their agency from literary texts of resistance to colonization.

The Native American chalkware figurine portrays the persistent stereotype of Native Americans as uncivilized, violent savages. The figurine appears to be a child who is squatting while holding a tomahawk. This is a prevailing stereotype of Indigenous people that simultaneously infantilizes them while painting them as brutal and threatening. We hope that this label prompts viewers to consider why their default image of a Native American might be a warrior or a war-like figure. This is the result of intentional framing of Indigenous populations as dangerous, only to be tamed by European settlers through control and domination. This is a singular, constructed image. 

The figurines in this display reinforce the view that Native people look, act, and live one way, which obscures the multiplicity and variety of Indigenous peoples and experiences across the continent and beyond. Colonial frameworks are perpetuated because they portray the idea that to be Native, you must look a certain way. This view is not only inaccurate, but deeply affects those who both do and don’t fit narrow expectations of “Native-ness.” It is often easier for people to diminish the place of Native Americans and maintain stereotypical narratives than to expand their perspectives and learn from Indigenous people. 

Native people continue to use their voices to share their stories, culture, heritage, and traditions in different ways, for different reasons, and to different audiences. Indigenous people continue to show up as themselves and encourage community members to do the same. This may be through art, music, poetry, stories, and even dance. Self-representation is powerful and disrupts cycles that reinforce misunderstandings and stereotypes about Native Americans. This case, and the space around you, displays some of those Indigenous-centered representations.

Native American people push back against misrepresentation everyday. For example, the magazine cover of Quannah Chassinghorse with the title, “The Power of Personal Expression,” sends a powerful message that Native American People are still here, part of the modern world, and unafraid to show who they are. Quannah Chasinghorse is from the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in, Gwich’in, and Sičangu-Oglala Lakota Nations. She is known for her Yidįįłtoo, traditional Alaskan Native facial tattoos, and for her dedicated activism and empowerment of Native audiences.

Portrayals of Native American people are more accurate when created by Indigenous people. Stereotypes leave people to think that Native Americans are people of the past, but in reality they will always be present.

In/Visible: Breaking the Surface

Curatorial Statement by Eleanor Stolzoff (Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians, Amherst College Class of 2027)

The Three-Piece China Set, commissioned by President Stanley King for the opening of Valentine Dining Hall, depicts Lord Jeffery Amhrst atop a horse, sword raised, chasing Indigenous people in a repeating circular design, As the plates suggest, Jeffery Amherst, the town and college’s namesake and Governor-General of British North America, endorsed genocidal tactics against the Native people he deemed an "Execrable Race” using smallpox blankets and other means. The china sparked several plate-smashing protests in the dining hall (as has been described by Tito Craige, Class of 1970) and was eventually removed from use without public acknowledgement in 1973.

No apology was given to the Indigenous community members forced to use dishes portraying the murder of their ancestors. As an Indigenous student at Amherst college today, it can be difficult to reckon with the college’s history of racism against Native Americans through its representations of Jeffery Amherst. While thankfully, we no longer eat from this china or cheer for the “Lord Jeffs,” I believe it’s important to recognize this painful aspect of Amherst’s recent past. 

Upon first glance, the objects on the shelf beneath the china set may appear to exhibit the same design. However, the center text “Nonotuck 1659” physically and ontologically centers the Nonotuk people whose perspectives are missing from the china and town and college history records. Looking closely, you may notice that the Indigenous figures are riding the horses and chasing Jeffery Amherst—this is an intentional reversal. 

In December of 2024, Anika Lopes, Debora Bridges, Lisa Brooks, Camila Massaki Gomes, and I discussed the idea of a plate-breaking demonstration, envisioning an alternative representation of the china that prioritizes truth-telling and healing, particularly for Native community members. Instead, these pieces are the creation that followed. When I look at them, I feel a sense of freedom. The design is a visual, tangible, and clever reclamation of something painful from an Indigenous perspective. I hope the reclaimed design and this label generates questions, encourages viewers to consider why Indigenous stories are made invisible, and realize that these stories are visible for those who are open to seeing and hearing them.