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I had two very different conversations yesterday. Almost opposites. One was with a young woman who is now curator of indigenous collection of a local prominent museum. And her daily struggle sifting thru crates and crates of unindexed material and bodily remains that belong to a tribe. She is Pueblo de Isleta and the days are heavy. There are toys taken from the still warm hands of children trampled by US Cavalry. Someone’s great grandmother’s bones in a box. There is no equivalent to how badly remains of indigenous have been treated by the United States of America.