2021 Structural Engineering Fellowship
Decolonizing Urban Landscapes: Reclaiming an Indigenous Right to the City through Structural Design

Structures are not neutral, timeless, or placeless; they are manifestations of our contemporary values. They can act as conduits to either reinforce legacies of colonialism or to shift the narrative of our built environment. As built environment practitioners, we have a professional, ethical, and moral obligation to design environments that are inclusive, socially equitable, and environmentally responsible.

As former University of British Columbia President Santa J. Ono said in a speech, borrowing from a concept in former Chancellor Aaron Lazare’s book On Apology, we are not guilty for actions in which we did not participate. However, just as we take pride in our family, nations, sports teams, and institutions for achievements which we did not personally accomplish, we must also share in accountability for their failures. This accountability is essential for a sense of collective identity and belonging.[1]

Accountability begins with a recognition of the truth. The places that we call home, in which we eat, play, grow, work, and live, have been cared for by Indigenous people for hundreds and often thousands of years. A majority of the Indigenous people in the United States, Canada, Australia, and Aotearoa New Zealand live in urban areas, but cities frequently lack a substantial connection to Indigenous culture.[2] Urban settings predominantly reflect Western values and colonial histories, thereby eroding Indigenous agency.

In recent years, acknowledgement of the significance of Indigenous values and the need for Indigenous cultural expression in the city has grown. However, there persists a view that Indigenous expression belongs solely in rural spaces or only in resource management consultation. As urban spaces continue to prioritize Western values, the legitimacy of urban Indigeneity remains contested, reinforcing the need for built environment professionals to address past injustices and recognize cities as Indigenous places.

What does it mean to have an urban landscape that is truly reflective of our shared histories? How can we make our cities more inclusive, welcoming, and safe places for all of us? This report considers how engineering, architecture, and planning can help decolonize our built environments. It is meant for engineers, architects, planners, policy makers, researchers, educators, students, and all those who play a role in designing our urban landscapes. My hope is that this will foster dialogue, encourage exploration of case study projects, and connect people to other works on decolonization in the built environment fields.

The report is based on recordings and writings of scholars, design practitioners, policy makers, and Indigenous elders; archival project materials; my conversations with Indigenous design practitioners and non-Indigenous practitioners who have worked closely with Indigenous communities; and my field observations in three countries that I visited from 2022 to 2023 as part of the SOM Foundation Structural Engineering Fellowship. While I hope that this text is useful to others, it is important to note that my experience of these conversations, places, and structures is highly subjective and limited by my understanding as an early-career structural engineer. Not only do I come to these encounters with my biases, but also my experience can vary depending on the time of day, week, season, or year.

This research is inevitably influenced by my position as a Chinese American settler woman in the United States. My upbringing within western society, especially within the western postsecondary education system, has given me immense privilege. In writing this report, I aimed to follow filmmaker and scholar Trinh T. Minh-ha’s concept of “speaking nearby”: rather than trying to “speak about” a subject or culture from an authoritative perspective, Minh-ha specifies that “you’re committed to not speaking on their behalf, in their place, or on top of them. You can only speak nearby, in proximity.”[3] In writing this report, I see my position as that of a listener, researcher, and reporter, not an expert or insider. Where possible, I have pulled from multiple sources and included direct quotes from the people involved in each case study project.

Indigenous knowledge is passed down through generations. It is complex and diverse, and many principles can vary between tribes. This report is not meant to be a substitute for meaningful dialogue and learning directly from Indigenous knowledge keepers. Nor is it a universal representation of all Indigenous cultures and peoples. As Sarem Nejad and Ryan Walker wrote in their book chapter “Contemporary Urban Indigenous Placemaking in Canada,” “each [Indigenous community] keeps knowledge in their own way, using their own experts, and the best we can do…is share what we learned, not what they ultimately know.”[4]

The twenty-five structures highlighted in this report are selected case studies from urban settings in Canada, Australia, and Aotearoa New Zealand. Along with the United States, as the only four countries that voted against adopting the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) in 2007, they share similar histories, social dynamics, and political systems. Each of the case study projects has attempted to include Indigenous representation and/or Indigenous cultural values in its design. Some of the case studies are universally regarded as exemplary projects while others have been controversial, but all of them hold meaningful lessons from which we can learn. They offer insights into how collaboration and multiple ways of thinking can contribute to a better environment for us all.

Grounding

In recent years, the term “decolonization” has made its way through academia, popular culture, and the corporate workplace, often used as a synonym for social justice. However, in their essay “Decolonization is not a Metaphor,” Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang challenge the usage of decolonization as a blanket term for social justice or critical methodologies.[5] Rather, decolonization is a tangible, specific political project that refers to the repatriation of Indigenous land and life.

Decolonization is the process of undoing the effects of colonialism and colonial ideologies. There is no decolonization without self-reflection to recognize the colonial frameworks of one’s own institution. Colonialism refers to the establishment, maintenance, acquisition, and expansion of colonies in one territory by people from another territory. Settler colonialism in particular involves the settlement of people from a colonial power on Indigenous land, leading to the displacement, subjugation, and marginalization of Indigenous peoples. Settler colonial projects often seek to erase or assimilate Indigenous cultures, languages, and identities while asserting dominance over the land, its resources, and its people.

Land is central to settler colonialism because it represents not just a physical space but also a symbolic and ideological one. The control and ownership of land are often used to justify settler colonial claims and legitimize settler presence, while Indigenous land rights are frequently denied or disregarded. Land is also significant in settler colonial contexts because it serves as a site for the imposition of colonial architecture and infrastructure that reflect and reinforce colonial power dynamics.

Land shapes our identity and cultural practices. It nourishes us. It serves as a place where memories and traditions can be anchored. Often, the notion of home is rooted in place, and place is significantly shaped by the built environment. As such, the built environment is inseparable from the values that we hold. The ability to create and shape spaces to influence our experience of culture and society is a key basis of the concept of placemaking.

While place has always influenced our experience of culture and society, placemaking as a formal concept has only gained prominence in recent history. In the 1960s and 1970s, placemaking was associated with movements advocating for more human-centered and community-oriented approaches to urban development. Today, placemaking is defined as “both an overarching idea and a hands-on approach for improving a neighborhood, city, or region” that “inspires people to collectively reimagine and reinvent public spaces as the heart of every community.”[6] It focuses on transforming spaces into meaningful places that reflect the unique character and needs of the community, tapping into the community as experts.

Fundamentally, placemaking promotes community engagement and well-being. However, as Professors Janet McGaw, Anoma Pieris, and Emily Potter note, placemaking is “markedly future-oriented, focused on the community to come at the expense of the community that already gathers.”[7] Professors Janice Barry and Julian Agyeman add, “urban planners are generally more focused on what cities can become, on possible futures, than who belongs in them.”[8] Without a conscious focus on the existing and historic communities of a place, we risk perpetuating the marginalization of those communities. This is particularly true for Indigenous people in the city, many of whom have been dispossessed of their connection to place.

Today, prevailing placemaking practices continue to marginalize Indigenous people in urban areas. At the same time, Indigenous resurgence is on the rise in some cities: for example, the Squamish First Nation is engaging as property developers on Seʼnakw, an ongoing mega development in central Vancouver;[9] Te Rūnanga o Ngāi Tahu was a statutory partner in the Canterbury earthquake recovery, on the same footing as other bodies of government in Ōtautahi Christchurch;[10] and in Seattle, the Indigenous Advisory Council is guiding the mayor, city council, and city departments on how to better serve Indigenous people.[11] Additionally, policies and legal guidelines are being established to protect and promote Indigenous knowledge. For example, the National Standard of Competency for Architects (NSCA) in Australia requires that registered architects demonstrate cultural competency and respect Country. Country is a worldview shared by Indigenous peoples in Australia which encompasses all living things, as well as their spiritual and cultural connections.[12] In Aotearoa New Zealand, Waka Kotahi NZ Transport Agency has published Te Ara Kotahi and Hononga ki te Iwi, a Māori strategic plan and engagement framework, respectively. The two documents provide guidance on Māori engagement, which is required for all of the government agency’s projects across the country.[13]

Indigenous placemaking is the process of creating and maintaining spaces that reflect Indigenous values, knowledge, and ways of life. It is driven by Indigenous communities and seeks to create spaces that not only serve practical functions but also contribute to the spiritual, cultural, and social well-being of Indigenous communities, helping to strengthen their identity, resilience, and connection to the land.

Indigenous placemaking is deeply rooted in Indigenous worldviews. While there are hundreds of Indigenous groups on Turtle Island (North America), Australia, and Aotearoa New Zealand, each with their own distinct perspectives, many of them share similar values. Indigenous views of land stewardship are often based on a deep spiritual and cultural connection to the land, which is a living entity that must be respected and used sustainably. Land is not a commodity to be owned or developed for profit. For example, in the Māori worldview, all living things are interconnected ancestrally; the people, fish, rivers, and trees all form one family and must care for one another.[14]

Our relationship with the land is a reciprocal relationship. Rather than mindlessly extracting from the land, we have a responsibility to give back to it in a way that benefits all living beings. As Mohawk architect Matthew Hickey describes, this philosophy “removes us humans from having domination over the land and places us in an equal partnership with the world around us…taking humans off the top of the pyramid and placing them as an equal part of a circle.”[15] Reciprocity also extends to social relationships within communities, where sharing resources, supporting one another, and maintaining harmony and balance are key. This places the emphasis on the collective over the individual.

These relationships not only exist between contemporaneous living beings, but also extend across generations. The seventh-generation principle, common among many native nations on Turtle Island and based on the Great Law of the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois), teaches that our decisions today should consider the impacts on those who will come seven generations into the future.[16] Similarly, the Māori concept of whakapapa (often translated as genealogy) stresses our relationships with all living beings, past, present, and future, all of which comprise our family. As Hana Burgess and Te Kahuratai Moko- Painting describe, “any conversation about the future, is inherently a conversation about whakapapa. With this, any conversation about the future is inherently about our relationships with our mokopuna [grandchildren]. Here, the future is not something unknown and separate from us, but something that we are intimately related to all the time.”[17]

The concept of “two-eyed seeing” is a framework for viewing the world that incorporates both Indigenous and western knowledge. First introduced by Mi’kmaq Elders Dr. Albert and Dr. Murdena Marshall from Eskasoni First Nation, alongside Cape Breton University (CBU) professor Cheryl Bartlett, the approach involves viewing the world “from one eye with the strengths of Indigenous ways of knowing, and to see from the other eye with the strengths of western ways of knowing, and to use both of these eyes together.”[18] It recognizes that both knowledge systems have valuable insights to offer; by working together, they can address complex challenges and create more inclusive and sustainable solutions. The weaving of the two systems is key: it moves beyond the common notion of integrating or assimilating Indigenous knowledge into dominant western systems, instead emphasizing the importance of equal coexistence.

Similar frameworks have been developed by multiple distinct Indigenous cultures throughout the past few centuries. For example, the Kaswentha (Two Row Wampum) is a treaty belt that symbolized a commitment to peaceful coexistence and mutual respect between the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Confederacy and European settlers in the seventeenth century.[19] It consists of two parallel rows of purple wampum beads, representing Indigenous and European vessels traveling down the river of life together, side by side, neither interfering with the other’s path. The He Awa Whiria (braided river) concept promoted by Professor Angus Hikairo Macfarlane similarly describes the weaving together of diverse knowledge systems.[20] So how can we apply these frameworks and practice these values in our built environment projects? The report introduces a collection of case study projects from Canada, Australia, and Aotearoa New Zealand, all of which attempt a culturally responsive approach to built environment projects.

Personal Reflections

The inclusion of Indigenous values and traditions in urban environments is integral to the long-term social sustainability of a place and the well-being of its inhabitants. There is no single step-by-step approach that can be applied to every built environment project, and it is not my place as a non-Indigenous Chinese American to define the exact vision and implementation of a decolonized and Indigenized urban landscape. Instead, I would like to offer my personal reflections from my experience learning about decolonizing urban landscapes.

• Early and open consultation is critical.

Engaging meaningfully with Indigenous authorities and with local communities early in the project process is crucial to identifying key considerations and concerns. It offers an opportunity to understand others’ perspectives and refine the project brief while it is still malleable. Engagement should involve more than a “for-information-only” presentation on an already established, immovable design.

As part of this engagement, the establishment of roles is important. Communication between Indigenous and Western governance at equal levels gives appropriate weight to and recognition of each authority. Similarly, positioning cultural consultants as internal project team members rather than external stakeholders can lead to more meaningful design solutions.

• Listening is key to the process.

Embrace the role of designer as listener and designer as mediator—helping manifest solutions based on community needs and input. Designers are not the only experts in the room. The local community’s expertise of lived experience should be valued. Not only does learning from the community benefit the project itself, but also it improves the cultural competency of the designer.

Engagement with stakeholders can be time consuming and complex. As designers, we spend significant energy on our work, and it can be difficult to embrace feedback that critiques our original ideas or assumptions. But ultimately, many of us entered our professions with an intent to serve communities, so we should set realistic expectations and account for the time required for meaningful engagement in our project schedules. We should be humble and open rather than dismissive about critical feedback and suggested alternatives, as doing so can lead to better outcomes for the generations to come.

• Indigenous design is not a visual style. It is a process.

Indigenous design is not a short-lived trend or style. It is about building relationships, understanding histories and traumas, and recognizing different ways of thinking and producing. An Indigenous design process is a collective effort that is centered around Indigenous values such as community, reciprocity, and harmony with nature. Process should be prioritized over prescriptive aesthetics.

Mainstream architecture often emphasizes the visual elements of design, whereas Indigenous design places greater emphasis on the underlying process and the narrative communicated through design elements. Without a values-based design process, a generic interpretation of culture—such as applying stereotypical motifs without proper understanding of their meaning, or using an Indigenous reference out of context—lacks authenticity and risks veering into cultural appropriation.

• Seemingly small steps are meaningful and contribute to larger collective impacts.

“Decorative” panels and artwork surrounding a building can be just as important as the building’s structural components. They can define the character of the building, structuring it in another sense. While they are perhaps literally on the surface level, they can still be embedded with layers of meaning and are often the most noticeable things that a visitor sees.

Culture is lived day-to-day and developed over time. Similarly, each project contributes to a larger narrative, weaving a tapestry of culture throughout the city. While each individual case study project is beautiful on its own, it is only when viewed as part of the larger whole that one can appreciate the full impact of the work.

• Designing through a multicultural lens leads to more impactful outcomes.

Understanding and integrating both Indigenous and western perspectives enhances the depth of design outcomes. Not only does this enrich projects and the communities that they serve, but also it improves the competency of all the designers.

Design that is imbued with cultural narratives is educational. Each exposure to a cultural narrative enhances our knowledge base, shaping the way that we experience future exposures. It is through these experiences that we can learn cultural values and develop the knowledge needed to read the physical landscape. Once we begin to recognize how a place is organized to sustain or suppress certain values, we can intentionally work towards a more inclusive world.

• Formalizing obligations through the project procurement process can help foster change.

Any move towards decolonizing built environments must ultimately benefit Indigenous people, and the remaking of Indigenous place must be Indigenous led. Without this, the use of Indigenous cultural knowledge in built environment projects becomes a commodification of culture. Formal project requirements set during the procurement process can help ensure that Indigenous people are at the forefront.

For example, agencies, developers, and organizations can contractually require Indigenous consultation throughout the project, in a manner that allows for Indigenous agency rather than simply providing “for your information”-type documentation. Owners can also support economic opportunities for Indigenous businesses and apportion project work packages that are suitable for smaller firms. For example, Auckland Transport’s procurement policy involves setting targets for their spending with Māori businesses.[21]

The social sustainability movement shares some similarities with the environmental sustainability movement. As Indigenous designer Alison Page noted, architects can engage with Indigenous peoples similarly to how they currently engage with sustainability experts: “when the green movement came in, architects were suddenly required to look at sustainability within their development. In the same way, connecting with Country should be mandated in all future designs.”[22] For example, social sustainability can be an aspect of proposal evaluation score cards, similar to how environmental impacts are currently considered.

• We are not starting from scratch.

Much of the groundwork has already been laid. Every Indigenous design practitioner that I met as part of this fellowship was doing much more work than what their day job required of them: participating on panels, consulting on committees, writing articles, creating podcast episodes, and lecturing at universities, all on top of delivering projects for clients within tight schedules and budgets. All of them carried the role of being not just a design practitioner, but an Indigenous design practitioner.

Many of their writings, recordings, and web pages on Indigenous design practices are publicly available for reference. For example, the International Indigenous Design Charter was created to help ensure accurate and respectful representation of Indigenous knowledge in design and media. Written by four leaders of Indigenous design in Australia and workshopped with many Indigenous design practitioners and communities from around the world, it guides designers and clients by outlining ten best practice protocols and concrete actions related to each protocol.[23]

Several models and practical frameworks for co-production between Indigenous and Western governments, designers, and communities have been established. While the models and frameworks are specific to their individual contexts and may not be perfect, they provide useful starting points for others seeking to establish similar plans. One example is the Washington State Department of Transportation’s (WSDOT) tribal planning partnerships and Tribal Consultation Best Practices Guide.[24] The bibliography of this report includes only a small sampling of the available relevant literature.

In our journey towards decolonization, it is crucial to listen to the requests of Indigenous leaders and communities, and to do so without expecting congratulations for it. As built environment professionals, we are each responsible for designing in a manner that is socially and environmentally sustainable.

Designing with and for Indigenous communities offers a genuine opportunity to improve our societies for both Indigenous and non- Indigenous people. Decolonizing urban landscapes does not call for the erasure of western buildings and infrastructure, but rather focuses on acknowledging the role of the built environment disciplines in defining culture, repairing past injustices, and equalizing the field both within our project teams and in greater society.

The urban transformations illustrated by the case studies in this report show the potential of the built environment to contribute positively to social healing. Design is a powerful tool for embedding the millennia of Indigenous knowledge and presence into our everyday experiences in the city and for empowering Indigenous communities to express their culture openly. It is only through decolonizing our urban landscapes that we will arrive at cities that truly represent our cultures and histories.

Notes

[1] Santa Ono, “Statement of Apology | Office of the President,” April 9, 2018, https://indigenous.ubc.ca/indigenous-engagement/apology/.

[2] “American Indian/Alaska Native Health,” Office of Minority Health, accessed March 12, 2024, https://minorityhealth.hhs.gov/american-indianalaska-native-health; “Aboriginal Peoples in Canada: Key Results from the 2016 Census,” Statistics Canada, October 25, 2017, https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/daily-quotidien/171025/dq171025a-eng.htm; “Census of Population and Housing - Counts of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians,” Australian Bureau of Statistics, August 31, 2022, https://www.abs.gov.au/statistics/people/aboriginal-and-torres-strait-islander-peoples/census-population-and-housing-counts-aboriginal-and-torres-strait-islander-australians/latest-release; “Urban-Rural Profile,” Environmental Health Intelligence New Zealand, accessed March 12, 2024, https://www.ehinz.ac.nz/indicators/population-vulnerability/urbanrural-profile/.

[3] Trinh T. Minh-Ha in Erika Balsom, “‘There Is No Such Thing as Documentary’: An Interview with Trinh T. Minh-Ha,” Frieze, November 1, 2018, https://www.frieze.com/article/there-no-such-thing-documentary-interview-trinh-t-minh-ha.

[4] Sarem Nejad and Ryan Walker, “Contemporary Urban Indigenous Placemaking in Canada,” in The Handbook of Contemporary Indigenous Architecture (Springer Nature Singapore, 2018), 224.

[5] Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang, “Decolonization Is Not a Metaphor,” Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society 1, no. 1 (September 8, 2012): 1–40.

[6] “What Is Placemaking?,” Project for Public Spaces, 2007, https://www.pps.org/article/what-is-placemaking.

[7] Janet McGaw, Anoma Pieris, and Emily Potter, “Indigenous Place-Making in the City: Dispossessions, Occupations and Implications for Cultural Architecture,” Architectural Theory Review 16, no. 3 (2011): 296–311, https://doi.org/10.1080/13264826.2011.621544.

[8] Janice Barry and Julian Agyeman, “On Belonging and Becoming in the Settler-Colonial City: Co- Produced Futurities, Placemaking, and Urban Planning in the United States,” Journal of Race, Ethnicity and the City 1, no. 1–2 (2020): 22–41, https://doi.org/10.1080/26884674.2020.1793703.

[9] “Seʼnakw,” Seʼnakw, accessed March 12, 2024, https://senakw.com/.

[10] Michelle Thompson-Fawcett, Alex Kitson, and Janice Barry, “Enhancing Cultural Aspirations in Urban Design: The Gradual Transformation by Indigenous Innovation,” Urban Design International 24, no. 4 (November 12, 2019): 271–79, https://doi.org/10.1057/s41289-018-0075-y.

[11] “Indigenous Advisory Council,” Seattle Department of Neighborhoods, accessed April 12, 2024, https://seattle.gov/neighborhoods/public-participation/boards-and-commissions/indigenous-advisory-council.

[12] “National Standard of Competency for Architects 2021” (Architects Accreditation Council of Australia, 2021), https://aaca.org.au/national-standard-of-competency-for-architects/performance-criteria/.

[13] “Te Ara Kotahi - Our Māori Strategy” (Waka Kotahi NZ Transport Agency, August 2020), https://www.nzta.govt.nz/about-us/about-nz-transport-agency-waka-kotahi/maori-and-waka-kotahi-nz-transport-agency/; “Hononga Ki Te Iwi – Our Māori Engagement Framework” (Waka Kotahi NZ Transport Agency), accessed March 22, 2024, https://www.nzta.govt.nz/resources/hononga-ki-te-iwi-our-maori-engagement-framework/.

[14] Garth R Harmsworth and Shaun Awatere, “Indigenous Māori Knowledge and Perspectives of Ecosystems,” Ecosystem Services in New Zealand – Conditions and Trends, 2013, 274–86.

[15] Matthew Hickey, “Decolonizing Design: The Case for Universal Inclusivity,” Safe in Public Space, October 2014, https://www.safeinpublicspace.com/content/inclusivity-through-decolonizing-the-design-process.

[16] Building an Indigenized Future: Seventh Generation Philosophy, accessed April 12, 2024, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGia5Gsv6l4&ab_channel=NativeGovernanceCenter; Terri Hansen, “How the Iroquois Great Law of Peace Shaped U.S. Democracy,” Native America | PBS (blog), December 13, 2018, https://www.pbs.org/native-america/blog/how-the-iroquois-great-law-of-peace-shaped-us-democracy; “Values,” Haudenosaunee Confederacy, accessed April 12, 2024, https://www.haudenosauneeconfederacy.com/values/.

[17] Hana Burgess and Te Kahuratai Moko-Painting, “Onamata, Anamata: A Whakapapa Perspective of Māori Futurisms,” in Whose Futures? (Economic and Social Research Aotearoa, 2020), 207–33, https://researchspace.auckland.ac.nz/handle/2292/63910.

[18] Cheryl Bartlett, Murdena Marshall, and Albert Marshall, “Two-Eyed Seeing and Other Lessons Learned within a Co-Learning Journey of Bringing Together Indigenous and Mainstream Knowledges and Ways of Knowing,” Journal of Environmental Studies and Sciences 2, no. 4 (November 1, 2012): 331–40, https://doi.org/10.1007/s13412-012-0086-8.

[19] James W Ransom and Kreg T Ettenger, “‘Polishing the Kaswentha’: A Haudenosaunee View of Environmental Cooperation,” Environmental Science & Policy 4, no. 4–5 (August 2001): 219–28, https:// doi.org/10.1016/S1462-9011(01)00027-2.

[20] Angus Hikairo Macfarlane and Sonja Macfarlane, “Toitū Te Mātauranga: Valuing Culturally Inclusive Research in Contemporary Times,” Psychology Aotearoa 10, no. 2 (2018): 71–76.

[21] “Procurement Policy” (Auckland Transport, June 2023), https://at.govt.nz/media/1992597/171-at-procurement-policy.pdf.

[22] Elisa Scarton, “‘Indigenous Architecture Is Not a Style, but a Culturally Appropriate Process’ - Alison Page,” Australian Design Review, May 17, 2021, https://www.australiandesignreview.com/architecture/indigenous-architecture-is-not-a-style-but-a-culturally-appropriate-process-alison-page/.

[23] Russell Kennedy et al., “International Indigenous Design Charter” (Deakin University, 2018), https://www.theicod.org/en/resources/international-indigenous-design-charter.

[24] “WSDOT Model Comprehensive Tribal Consultation Process for the National Environmental Policy Act” (Washington State Department of Transportation, July 1, 2008), https://wsdot.wa.gov/engineering-standards/all-manuals-and-standards/manuals/wsdot-model-comprehensive-tribal-consultation-process-national-environmental-policy-act.

Recommended Reading and Resources

It is essential that when discussing decolonization, we engage in conversation with Indigenous people. The following works are suggested reading and listening materials created by Indigenous architects, engineers, professors, scholars, and designers (listed alphabetically by author).

• The Handbook of Contemporary Indigenous Architecture

Elizabeth Grant, Kelly Greenop, Albert L. Refiti, and Daniel J. Glenn, (eds.), The Handbook of Contemporary Indigenous Architecture (Springer Nature Singapore, 2018.)

This 1026-page tome provides a comprehensive overview of contemporary Indigenous architecture in Australia, Aotearoa New Zealand, the Pacific Islands, Canada, USA and other countries. With chapters written by over forty Indigenous and non-Indigenous scholars, it includes history and background, discourse, case studies, and further references.

• Imagining Decolonisation

Rebecca Kiddle, Bianca Elkington, Moana Jackson, Ocean Ripeka Mercier, Mike Ross, Jennie Smeaton, and Amanda Thomas, Imagining Decolonisation (1st edition) (Bridget Williams Books, 2020).

Imagining Decolonisation is a short, approachable text that offers an introduction to decolonization. The authors use practical examples to discuss the importance of decolonization and how to approach such a transformation.

• Indigenous Urbanism Podcast

Jade Kake. Indigenous Urbanism. Podcast audio.
https://indigenousurbanism.simplecast.com.

This 2018 podcast features stories and dialogue “about the spaces we inhabit, and the community drivers and practitioners who are shaping these environments and decolonizing through design” (Kake, https://indigenousurbanism.simplecast.com). Host Jade Kake seamlessly weaves together her site visits, interviews, and narration in each episode.

• Māori in Engineering Podcast

Alyce Lysaght. Māori in Engineering. Podcast audio.
https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/alyce-lysaght.

Hosted by Alyce Lysaght, a water engineer in Aotearoa New Zealand, this podcast includes interviews with Māori engineers who share their experiences, projects, personal and professional challenges, and thoughts about the profession. Their stories are complex, and both literally and figuratively hearing their voices is inspiring.

• Our Voices: Indigeneity and Architecture

Rebecca Kiddle, luugigyoo patrick stewart, and Kevin O’Brien (eds.), Our Voices: Indigeneity and Architecture (Novato, California: ORO Editions, 2018).

The first volume in a set of books about Indigenous identity and architecture, this book features chapters written by Indigenous authors from Australia, Aotearoa New Zealand, and Turtle Island (Canada and the United States). They provide a wide range of perspectives on what it means to combine Indigeneity and architecture.

United States and Canada

Australia and New Zealand