Houstonia’s The Must List tells you about something going on in Houston that you absolutely cannot miss.

In the first essay published in the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston’s catalogue for Grounded in Clay: The Spirit of Pueblo Pottery, “Asserting the Indigenous Intellect Into the Collection,” archaeologist, anthropologist, and tribal history preservationist Dr. Joseph Aguilar writes that the Pueblo peoples of what’s now the American Southwest “have one of the more ubiquitous and resilient forms of our material culture—pottery.” The figures, vessels, and utensils in the exhibition bridge Pueblo history with the Pueblo present, offering visitors a chance to witness the shared creative and practical throughlines between centuries.

Running until January 12, Grounded in Clay brings the MFAH together with Santa Fe’s School for Advanced Research (SAR), the Indian Arts Research Center (IARC), the Pueblo Pottery Collective, and the Vilcek Foundation to showcase over 100 works from their collections. Community curators representing all 19 of the Pueblo tribes selected the pieces for display and wrote their reactions to their choices. Some penned essays, others poetry.

“Different people from different roads were asked to just feel their way into finding a relationship with a different vessel. I think [that’s] very special, because each of the people from the Pueblo Pottery Collective, they vibe to a certain vessel for different reasons,” says Tara Gatewood, a Shirr’whip Tai’nin (Isleta Pueblo)/Diné journalist and radio host who took part in Grounded in Clay. “You have some that were family members; others, there was something symbolic or either something that they felt reflected their communities, as well as people who saw this as a road to connect to their ancestors.”

One of Gatewood’s contributions is a jar from the Mogollon Tribe, dated to sometime between the eleventh and fourteenth centuries—one of the oldest pieces in the exhibition. She speaks to it, and the viewer, through a series of questions blending her journalistic prowess with her knack for poetry. She muses on who the creator may have been as a person, what chiles they may have preferred eating, where their life may have intersected with hers over the millennium, and why they decided to include six swirls in the final design.

Gatewood’s other selection is labeled as an Isleta jar, and estimated to have been created between 1880 and 1920, about 200 years following the Pueblo Revolt. These dates coincide with the life of her great grandmother Na-na Nar’beh’she Pai’ee’s childhood. She would grow up to become a potter herself, handcrafting jars similar to the one on display. To Gatewood, the piece also serves as a piquant metaphor.

“We are constantly going through trials and tribulations in life where we truly feel like we are walking through fire, but we make it through stronger and more fortified, and the scars are the reminders, much like we see the fire scars on the pottery: a reminder of a journey that we’ve been through,” she says. “And I think for my pieces, one of the ones that I chose, you can see some of those fire scars. It doesn’t have any designs printed on it or painted on it. And I think that’s what really attracted me to that. This was just the beauty of the journey of this vessel.”

The curators and institutions began planning Grounded in Clay in late 2019, just as the COVID-19 pandemic began, making it one of the “fires” that forged both the exhibition and the people involved. All of the Pueblos closed their borders in accordance with health and safety protocols, with community gatherings and planning sessions taking place over Zoom. There, the curators shared their proposed responses with one another and gathered feedback. Some would even craft their own clay works on camera while socializing.

“For me, this project provided a lot of strength and a reminder of the resilience of the people who I descend from, because they too went through a pandemic, and so perhaps some of these pieces were created during that time period as well,” Gatewood says. “So there’s a lot of parallels, but I think the takeaway was being able to have that reminder of just how strong we are.”

The majority of the collection’s symbols of strength are pots and jars, though figures of storytellers, singers, women, and gods are also showcased. One such work is a brightly painted Tesuque muna (rain god) chosen by educator and artist Marita Hinds of the Tesuque Pueblo. She writes that the “humorous yet simplistic” piece, crafted by an unknown artist sometime in or before the 1990s, reminds her of the vibrant munas her aunt Dominga Abeyta sculpted. A sculptor herself, Hinds describes the act of making munas from clay as “a dying art,” and issues a call to keep the “vital part of our culture and traditions” alive.

Bringing Grounded in Clay to the MFAH ensures that visitors learn about Indigenous culture directly from Indigenous peoples themselves, told within the context of their lived experiences. Gatewood points out that many of the oldest pieces in the collection look near identical to those still being crafted for home use today. To the Pueblo tribes represented in the showcase, the history isn’t really much of a history at all—it’s here. It’s now.

SAR established guidelines for museums presenting Indigenous stories and material culture to general audiences. These are intended to protect the dignity and autonomy of participating tribes, placing their customs and culture at the forefront rather than forcing them into institutional molds or, worse, riddling the exhibition with misinformation. Grounded in Clay fits all the organization’s criteria.

Such a move sets a precedent for museums everywhere working to bring Indigenous stories to their communities. One hopes that future shows here in Houston will follow the lead of both MFAH and the Heritage Society, which partnered with the Karankawas for an exhibition on display until March. Prioritizing tribal needs over museum wants leads to stronger, more truthful stories.

“I think this is an inspiration to all institutions of the kind of beauty that can manifest when you call upon the people who are still living and thriving,” Gatewood says.