Since its launch, TikTok has become one of the world's most popular social media apps. Once primarily used by teenagers, this app is now used by people of all ages; this shift is largely attributable to the COVID-19 pandemic, when many people transitioned to engaging with others via social media instead of having in-person interactions. Now, anyone who has either the app or access to a web browser can view a plethora of videos, all 10 minutes and under, on any topic. Informational videos about archaeology may not be promoted on everyone's personalized home page—called the For You page (FYP)—but they are easily accessible through the search function. This review will discuss the impact TikTok has on the world of archaeology, with a focus on public engagement, museums, and especially teaching and learning. The social power of this app needs to be acknowledged. Archaeology can introduce the public to snapshots of daily life from the past, a task that fits well with the design of TikTok. This social platform can become a resource to create spaces to learn more, especially through interactive conversations such as in the comments section or response videos.

Research on hardened daub fragments provides highly relevant data on the building activities of past societies. Unfortunately, in many cases these elements are not considered relevant research objects, resulting in a very important loss of information for archaeology. There is still a long way to go in the studies of earth building remains, the vast majority of which have focused on assemblages coming from specific sites. Likewise, a good number of these studies carried out from a macroscopic approach either have not published the methodology used or barely offer some considerations about it. This article approaches the methodological procedures for their analysis through direct observation, while hoping to contribute to making these remains more visible and to facilitate and promote their study. This methodological proposal can be applicable to materials of different composition and from very different contexts, chronologies, and origins.

While tablet devices are becoming commonplace in archaeological research, the transfer of data for analysis is a matter of critical concern. As geographic information systems (GIS) are increasingly incorporated into our archaeological research, there is a need not only to streamline data acquisition, but also to collect data that can be used in conjunction with high-level spatial analytical tools, such as those available in ESRI’s ArcGIS. During a short lab season, various methods of paper-free data collection and cross-platform transfer using these user-friendly devices were tested. It was found that both iPad and Android-based systems present great advantages in terms of portability and electronic data acquisition. However, file compatibility and transfer of data across multiple platforms present a number of important drawbacks. The present case study focuses on the development of a data collection protocol implemented by the Proyecto de Investigación Arqueológica Zaña Valley (PIAZ), Peru, that moves beyond these limitations. The ultimate incorporation of data collected using tablet devices demonstrates the potential for this tool in archaeological research, along with the pitfalls for projects that rely heavily on GIS. Significant findings regarding the advantages, as well as the limitations, of e-data collection, transfer, and storage are discussed.

Often understudied by archaeologists, ground stone tools (GST) were ubiquitous in the ancient Maya world. Their applications ranged from household tools to ceremonial equipment and beyond. Little attention has been focused on chemically sourcing the raw stone material used in GST production, largely because these tools were fashioned out of igneous or sedimentary rock, which can present characterization challenges. And, although portable X-ray fluorescence (pXRF) has been applied widely to source obsidian, the utility of pXRF for geochemically sourcing other kinds of stone remains underexplored. We present a small-scale application of pXRF for determining granite provenance within a section of the Middle Belize Valley in Belize, Central America. Belize is an ideal location to test chemical sourcing studies of granite because there are only three tightly restricted and chemically distinct sources of granite in the country, from which the overwhelming majority of granite for ancient tool production derived. The method described here demonstrates that successful and accurate geological characterizations can be made on granite GST. This cutting-edge sourcing technique has the potential to be more widely applied in other regions to reveal deeper connections between the sources of GST production and sites of consumption across space and through time.

During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, arsenic was used as an embalming agent in the United States. In 1996, Konefes and McGee brought the potential danger of arsenic poisoning during excavation to the attention of archaeologists. They developed methodology that was later refined by the present authors. This article discusses the history of arsenic as an embalming agent, explores socioeconomic and demographic factors that might suggest the presence of arsenic in certain burials, and presents methods for testing arsenic in archaeological contexts. We also discuss environmental impact mitigation considerations and review examples of arsenic testing in archaeological contexts.

Various descendant and community groups have long been involved in aspects of the discovery, investigation, preservation, and interpretation of archaeological remains and associated heritage. No longer content with merely being bystanders and even consultants, many have insisted on fully collaborating, co-creating, and controlling the archaeological and heritage management process. Despite the potential shared interests among archaeologists, local residents, and descendant communities, differences in ontologies, epistemologies, and deep-seated ethical values often pose challenges for an authentic collaborative archaeology that serves the needs and interests of multiple groups. In this article, I examine public participation in archaeology and heritage management, identify some of the gaps between prescription and practice, and suggest that we must adopt transformative values if we are to fulfill the promise of authentic collaboration.

Recent years have seen the rapid expansion of airborne and spaceborne remote-sensing products adopted by archaeologists for interpreting ancient landscapes and managing heritage resources. A growing and increasingly specialized literature attests to the promise and availability of commercial and publicly funded satellite imagery, as well as UAV-mounted sensors across a range of resolutions and price points. In the South Caucasus (including the countries of Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia), a growing commitment to landscape approaches in archaeology is stimulating the adoption of satellite remote sensing as an important new tool for identifying and managing archaeological resources while tracing the impact of historic land-use alterations in survey areas. Nevertheless, budgetary challenges and a lack of training opportunities among international partners and heritage organizations outside of the funding streams of large academic institutions can lead to widening technological gulfs in the discipline that reinforce colonial relationships. Building on recent technical articles covering specific imagery datasets, this article aims to address this by providing a general review of free or low-cost remotely sensed datasets available to archaeologists, with the aim of broadening awareness of these important tools and their vocabularies, and illustrating them with recent published examples from the South Caucasus.

A quick search on antonyms for “creative” yields obvious results such as “uncreative,” “unimaginative,” and “uninspired,” but also terms such as “dull,” “derivative,” and “stodgy.” In the world of cultural resources and mitigation of adverse effects, “creative” is most often opposed to “standard.” That sounds like a good thing, right? Good old, reliable, dependable, predictable standard mitigation. But as we will see from the articles in this special issue, remarkable things can happen when those designing mitigation programs replace or augment “standard” approaches. What is it about a mitigation measure or program that leads us to term it “creative”? How can we expand those defining qualities of creative mitigation measures and programs to enhance the quality of standard mitigation approaches? How can we make the standard approaches, if not creative, at least not stodgy?

There is a lack of broad representation in archaeology generally, and in a specialized field such as underwater archaeology, this issue is only exacerbated. Underwater archaeological sites are often “out of sight, out of mind,“” creating a general lack of awareness of underwater cultural heritage and career prospects in many communities. Coupled with a lack of education and the additional demands of working in a submerged environment (e.g., scuba diving), there is a striking lack of diversity in underwater archaeology. Overall, underwater archaeologists are a largely homogeneous group, particularly along the lines of race and wealth—categories that often overlap. In the context of asking broader questions such as “Why are there so few underwater archaeologists of color?” and “How can we do better?” this article outlines the barriers to inclusivity writ large in underwater archaeology and provides solutions for increasing diversity and accessibility in the field, including specific opportunities and resources for underrepresented groups to “get their feet wet.”

A consistent challenge in community and collaborative archaeologies has been the appropriate identification and understanding of project constituencies. A key step in stakeholder analysis is understanding and harmonizing the goals of archaeological work to the social role of the institutions for which we work. To illustrate the value of such a stance, we examine on-campus archaeology programs at colleges and universities, arguing that treating students as vital stakeholders is an important ethical obligation for both researchers and administrators. Including students as stakeholders in campus archaeology provides pedagogical benefits and a meaningful way to instill an appreciation of archaeology in an important constituency of potential voters and future decision-makers. We present a case study from Santa Clara University (SCU), reporting results of an online survey of undergraduates that was intended to gauge community interests in campus archaeology and heritage. We also detail activities undertaken by SCU's Community Heritage Lab in response to survey findings in order to raise the profile of the archaeological and other heritage resources on our campus.

YouTube is now a common public face for archaeology and history. Professionals and amateurs alike make videos, whether it be for monetary gain, outreach, or a combination of the two. The YouTube channel Ghost Town Living is no exception. It features the town's current owner, Brent Underwood, modifying the “abandoned” mining town of Cerro Gordo into a tourist destination. During this process, as is documented in his videos, it becomes clear that Underwood is not only conserving the town but also transforming it into an amalgam of California's mining history. In doing so and by presenting it on YouTube, Underwood is sharing the heritage of Cerro Gordo with the public. Although Underwood is not an archaeologist and is not pretending to be one, some of the methods employed are far from “best practice.” Despite this, I argue that perhaps the overall goals and processes of Underwood should be encouraged to some degree, and in this case, that they do more good than harm for the “preservation” of Cerro Gordo.

This introductory article foregrounds the articles in this special issue, “Professional–Collector Collaboration: Global Challenges and Solutions,” complementing the special issue “Professional–Collector Collaboration Moving beyond Debate to Best Practice,” also published in Advances in Archaeological Practice. The articles that we introduce here cover examples and case studies from European settings such as Norway, the Czech Republic, England, Wales, Finland, and Belgium—places that have been exploring how to respond to the challenge of working meaningfully with collectors and finders of archaeological artifacts, especially metal detectorists. These are joined by examples from Australia, Mexico, Uruguay, and even the United States, in the context of handling—at first glance—problematic collections originating from elsewhere. The articles are diverse in their settings and the challenges they describe, but they point to the need for participatory and democratic approaches to archaeological heritage and the different publics that engage with it.

The three authors research surface archaeological records dominated by low-density scatters and isolated artifacts, archaeological phenomena frequently encountered during cultural resource management (CRM) projects in areas of the United States and Australia. We each began researching surface artifact scatters for different reasons but converged on approaches that emphasize the formation of these forms of archaeological deposits. Through a variety of projects, we asked a common set of questions about the processes that both buried and exposed these materials, the methods needed to obtain a chronology in different regions, and the ways we might interpret artifacts found together in different densities. Answering these questions led to the collection and analyses of datasets in innovative ways and the questioning of a number of archaeological categories often thought of as fundamental for archaeological research. Here, we review examples of our respective research and consider the implications for CRM projects dealing with surface lithics.

The identification of earthen house floors or living surfaces during archaeological field investigations can be hampered by the scale of excavation, variable fieldworker experiences, and any number of site formation processes. Furthermore, although time- and context-sensitive sampling protocols (e.g., those required of macrobotanical and microartifact data collection) rely on in-the-moment identifications of floors, strong empirical evidence for the presence of house floors often comes well after the field season has concluded. Pocket penetrometers—inexpensive instruments that measure the compaction strength of soil—can lend empirical support to decisions about sampling procedures during onsite investigations. In this study, we present findings from the analysis of 4,463 penetrometer readings recorded during the excavation of residential and non-residential architecture at Welqámex, a Stó:lō-Coast Salish settlement in southwestern British Columbia. We show how pocket penetrometer data reveal quantifiable differences in the compaction of floors and other cultural deposits. We argue that compaction measurements can provide an additional line of data (ratio scale) to affirm or challenge onsite interpretations of stratigraphy based on other tactile and observational data, particularly as such interpretations pertain to surfaces expected to have been exposed to recurrent foot traffic

After the anonymous 2011 return of a long-missing Pilling Fremont figurine, a multi-disciplinary research team conducted “fingerprint” analyses in an effort to match it to 10 mates with intact provenance. The Pilling figurines, crafted 1,000 years ago and cached in a remote sandstone niche in eastern Utah, are the most significant find of Fremont portable art ever documented because they occurred in situ and are unparalleled in detail and completeness. Most of the other 400-plus known Fremont figurines derive from secondary contexts, limiting inferences archaeologists might otherwise draw in domains ranging from Fremont exchange to inter- and intra-cultural ideology. Basketry-imprint analysis, scanning electron microscopy, and portable X-ray fluorescence suggest that the returned specimen is the original Pilling. After a 40-year absence, it is now permanently curated with the rest of the collection at the Prehistoric Museum, USU Eastern, in Price, Utah, and can contribute to research of a rare artifact class. The techniques reported can also be applied to finds of fragmentary Fremont figurines in secondary contexts to assess relationships among specimens and sites. Most broadly, the successful application of nondestructive pXRF may inspire confidence in scientists studying rare and delicate specimens traditionally profiled using destructive methods such as INAA.

Documents from Oaxaca, Mexico, in archives and museums in Mexico, the United States, and former European colonial powers are stimulating archaeological projects and other research in the areas where they originated. The Teozacoalco Archaeological Project was inspired by colonial-period documents housed in the Nettie Lee Benson Latin American Library at the University of Texas at Austin. Chiyo Cahnu, a Mixtec kingdom better known as Teozacoalco, was the scene of Aztec and Spanish colonial incursions. The archiving in Texas of the famous Mapa de Teozacoalco and associated documents pertaining to the kingdom/municipality, as well as other documents related to Teozacoalco, neighboring Mixtec kingdoms, and other indigenous Oaxacan communities housed in libraries, archives, and museums distant from those communities, invites us to consider some important issues: how and why they left their original homes and arrived in their present locations and legal and ethical ramifications of housing them outside of their homeland. Included in the latter topic are questions about decolonizing documents, whether documents should be repatriated, and best practices for archaeologists whose projects are inspired by them.

In the mid-1980s, the Anthropology Division of the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH) began the creation of digital resources as a means of collections access. Much of the database work was a secondary component of projects funded by outside grants and driven by new accountability mandates. The ongoing upgrading process was sporadic in its progress, but it still accomplished the primary goals of improved housing for collections and an exhaustive database. This paper discusses how the historical complications of the data, the scale of the database, its irregular schedule of funding, and deadline-driven projects resulted in inconsistency in data and difficulty in use. Although the examples provided will be specific to the AMNH Anthropology database, the circumstances and issues are common to many databases and the approaches presented broadly applicable. The discussion includes the practices used to mitigate the negative impact of these problems and the way the Division is positioning itself for the future, even as the database continues to provide unprecedented public and institutional access to and utility for the AMNH Anthropology collections.

In this article, the ways in which hobby metal detectorists searching for protected objects in the ploughsoil and archaeologists in Norway have collaborated and communicated throughout the public history of metal detecting in the country is outlined and problematized. Due to the opinions of individual archaeologists working in key positions and the autonomy of the country's local and regional management institutions, there are huge variations in both attitudes and practices toward metal detecting and its practitioners. In some areas, metal detectorists are allowed to search more or less freely, whereas in others, entire fields are protected after a few finds, making continued detecting without formal approval from the authorities illegal. Because of this, and the extreme difference in the activity level of individual detectorists, the number of recorded detecting finds varies immensely across county and regional borders. I suggest that channels for collaboration and communication be formalized and that a national and therefore uniform public reporting system be realized—given that it is, for the time being, largely up to individual archaeologists whether some of the country's most active citizen scientists are equally treated by the archaeological heritage management system in Norway.

For historic property types such as archaeological sites and historic buildings, data recovery is often the main part of mitigation plans offered by federal agencies with undertakings that will destroy part or all of a cultural resource. In theory, by extracting important information before destruction, we recover some part of a historic resource's cultural value. In some situations, however, data recovery is impossible or otherwise undesirable, and “creative” or off-site mitigation measures are necessary to mitigate adverse effects. In such circumstances, the Washington State Department of Archaeology and Historic Preservation has accepted funding from federal agencies to create, implement, and enhance an online digital information system for cultural resources. This article describes the Washington Information System for Architectural and Archaeological Records Data (WISAARD) and provides an example of a federal agency funding WISAARD development as creative mitigation for the transfer of archaeological sites out of federal ownership. We discuss the benefits of such systems and address how their development meets preservation goals established by the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation.

Over the past few years, the lead author has had the opportunity to excavate multiple large sites in California, working on behalf of developers to keep their projects in compliance with their permits. She also worked in conjunction with local tribes to resolve burial issues with each excavation. During these excavations, she observed the challenges that the tribes encountered when dealing with fast-paced cultural resource management (CRM) projects where burial retrieval and a shortage of resources were the norm. For many years, archaeologists have viewed CRM as only dealing with the material culture of the past; however, archaeologists also consult and work with living cultures. This article will address the endemic problem in CRM that stems from a lack of planning, preparation, resources, and training and how it affects the burial excavations that archaeologists and tribes encounter in the CRM setting. It will also look for solutions to remedy a long-broken system that continues to ignore existing laws set in place to protect resources, as well as the relationships between the Native American community, agencies, researchers, and land developers.