Is It Worth Visiting Museums with Controversial Histories?

While exploring the British Museum’s Ethiopia and Coptic Egypt gallery in 2013, I questioned my decision: was it right to pay for the chance to see artifacts that their countries of origin claimed were obtained unlawfully? Celebrating my birthday in a navy sequined dress, I felt proud of my appearance, but my smile faltered as my mother snapped a photo beside a statue of Pharaoh Senusret III.

The criticisms that would lead to a contemporary crisis in the museum world were already compelling back then. Numerous items displayed in prestigious museums worldwide were taken from their native lands—looted and trafficked—often under the guise of imperialism or scientific exploration.

Since 1983, Greece has officially requested the return of Parthenon pieces, claiming they rightfully belong to the nation. In 2022, Pope Francis consented to return three artifacts from the Vatican Museums; however, the British Museum, which houses 247 feet of the original frieze, has yet to return anything. Egypt has asked the Louvre to return four archaeological reliefs taken from a noble's tomb in the 1980s, and after their request was denied, the country cut ties with the museum in 2009. For nearly a century, the more than 150 institutions holding Benin Bronzes—thousands of artifacts seized by British forces in 1897 from what is now Nigeria—have faced persistent demands for repatriation, but progress has been sluggish.

Even though nearly ten years have passed since my visit to the British Museum, I continue to engage with cultural institutions. In the last year alone, I’ve explored over 40 museums. Many are vast and impressive, supported by influential benefactors. However, I’m increasingly aware of my role in how I interact with these places. I approach them with a more active mindset—before, during, and after my visits.

To gauge what kind of museum experience awaits me, I review their website for clues: If the museum bears a family name, does it honestly disclose how that family accumulated their wealth and contributed to its establishment? When examining exhibit descriptions, do I encounter terms like 'primitive,' 'native,' or 'discovered'?

As I navigate the galleries, I reflect, 'What voices are absent? Whose stories are overlooked?' When a piece resonates with me, I make a note of its details to investigate further later. I seek to understand its background, the political climate during its creation, and the current conditions in its country of origin. If guided tours are available, I participate, knowing they offer narratives about the artifacts that extend beyond the placard information. These tours also provide insights into the institution’s own history, methods of acquisition, and current practices.

Whenever possible, I prefer to explore smaller regional museums, which often place greater emphasis on the original inhabitants of the area. For instance, while working on a project about Mount Rushmore in 2016, I chose to bypass museums that glorified the presidents immortalized in stone and the white supremacist sculptor behind their creation. Instead, I visited the Journey Museum & Learning Center in Rapid City, South Dakota, which highlights the history of the Indigenous peoples of the Black Hills, their customs, and the sacred significance of the landscape to these communities. When friends ask for recommendations on museums in places I’ve visited, I direct them toward those I feel are making a meaningful impact.

Beyond traditional museums, social media serves as an invaluable gathering space. I engage in virtual discussions and guided workshops with artists, historians, and curators, while my Instagram feed is filled with art enthusiasts who showcase the beauty of what they encounter, using captions and voice-overs to delve into relevant historical, social, and cultural topics beyond the visuals. Vibrant conversations unfold in the comments, and following these discussions helps me gain a deeper understanding of the complexities surrounding art appreciation and museum ethics.

Today, we have a wealth of resources at our fingertips to explore parts of the world we may never visit. While we can't rewrite the history of how an artifact came to be where it is now, we can change how we interact with these objects in the present—by asking questions and continuing to seek understanding.