New York
After 120 Years Stored in a Museum, an Indigenous Shrine Returns Home
In the early 1900s, Franz Boas, who is considered one of the founders of American anthropology, became fascinated by a large shrine associated with Indigenous whaling rituals off the coast of British Columbia.
He had been sent a photograph of the shrine, which belonged to members of an Indigenous group called the Mowachaht. It showed a wooden structure on a small island, surrounded by a tangle of cedar and spruce, that sheltered 88 carved wooden human figures, four carved whale figures and 16 human skulls.
Boas decided to acquire it for the American Museum of Natural History in New York, where he was a curator. He was driven by a concept known as “salvage anthropology,” in which researchers saw collecting Native cultural possessions as a way to safeguard them from destruction as Indigenous populations plummeted.
Even at the time, the acquisition was controversial. A researcher named George Hunt traveled to Yuquot, a village near the shrine, to try to purchase it for the museum. According to letters between him and Boas that were published in “The Yuquot Whalers’ Shrine,” Aldona Jonaitis’s 1999 book on the subject, a chief agreed to sell it for $500, only to return the money the next day following objections from his community.
Hunt wrote that he eventually convinced two chiefs to split $500 in exchange for the shrine. But he added that the chiefs made him agree not to take the shrine until much of the community had left the island for the Bering Sea, where they often went seal hunting.
In 1905, the same year that the full collection arrived in New York, Boas left the museum. The museum ultimately decided not to exhibit the large shrine in its entirety. For the next 120 years, it sometimes displayed or lent out some of the carvings, and it created a small model that was on view from the early 1940s to around 2019. Mostly, the shrine was kept in storage.
Its loss was keenly felt by the community it came from, now known as the Mowachaht/Muchalaht First Nation. For decades, there have been calls to repatriate the shrine, and talks over its fate, but those plans never came to fruition.
Until now.
On Thursday, a truck containing the many pieces that make up the shrine began its long journey to Vancouver Island, off the southwest coast of Canada, in one of the most significant international repatriations in the museum’s history.
“We’re ready for it to come home,” said Marsha Maquinna, who is eight generations removed from the Mowachaht chief who presided over the shrine in the early 1900s. “We, as a community, have lots to heal.”
The story of the shrine’s return can be attributed in large part to the museum’s changing approach to its Native collections and the human remains it holds. And it involved an unlikely pair of facilitators: a father and son from California who only recently discovered their connection to the First Nation through Ancestry.com.
Like other major American institutions, the museum had long been criticized for its history of slow progress on repatriation and outdated Native exhibitions.
Efforts to address those criticisms have been going on for years, but the museum’s new president, Sean Decatur, sent a signal that he took them very seriously last year when he closed down two major halls exhibiting Native American objects. He cited a “growing urgency” for museums to change their relationships to Indigenous cultures.
When it comes to Native human remains, funerary objects and other cultural items recovered in the United States, a law passed in 1990 set up a protocol for museums and other institutions to repatriate the holdings in consultation with tribes and descendants. New federal rules that strengthened aspects of the protocol took effect last year. But the law does not apply to international Native groups.
Of the human remains that the museum still holds, more than half of the 12,000 individuals represented are from outside the U.S. In 2023, the museum overhauled its stewardship of the human remains in its collection, emphasizing its commitment to working with communities internationally on repatriation.
Last year, talks to repatriate the shrine — known to some as the Whalers’ Shrine and to others as the Whalers’ Washing House because of its association with purification rituals — took on new urgency.
They had been going on for decades. In the 1990s, representatives from the Mowachaht/Muchalaht First Nation visited the museum to view the collection. Amid a surge of activism around Native repatriation, calls to return the shrine grew louder.
A 1994 documentary about the First Nation, called “The Washing of Tears,” captured the view that the repatriation of the shrine would be a source of spiritual healing for a community trying to save its culture and ways of life.
“It represented our strength,” Jerry Jack, a hereditary chief, said in the documentary. He referred to the shrine by a traditional name: cheesum.
“I think that when that cheesum was taken away from us it was a real shocker for our people,” he said. “It took away our spirituality.”
In the years that followed there were waves of efforts to complete the repatriation, but plans kept stalling.
At times there were disagreements among members of the First Nation over how to carry out the return. And museum officials did not put forward many solutions.
Then, a few years ago, Albert Lara, a retiree living near Sacramento, Calif., began digging into his genealogy. Lara’s grandfather had told him stories as a child about his Indigenous heritage, but Lara, 75, was not aware of his connection to the Pacific Northwest until he sent a cheek swab to Ancestry.com. The results suggested a connection to members of the Mowachaht/Muchalaht First Nation.
Lara reached out to First Nation officials and got in touch with Margaretta James, who was president of a local cultural society and had been involved in the repatriation efforts for more than 30 years.
His son, Alex Lara, remembers himself and his father asking James, “Is there anything we can help you with?”
James replied, “Well, as a matter of fact, there is.”
Both of the Laras had worked with Native American tribes in California during their careers — Albert with Native veterans as part of the state employment development agency — and James saw them as genuine in their desires to help.
Last April, the Laras began communicating with the museum about the shrine. A letter from the First Nation’s chief executive made them authorized representatives for the group.
In the ensuing months, a plan was put together for the most logistically complicated part of the repatriation: transporting the large shrine back to Yuquot. The First Nation decided that a delegation of its members would see it off on its more than 3,000-mile journey from New York.
On Tuesday, in a room off the natural history museum’s Northwest Coast Hall, more than two dozen First Nation members stood among the boxes and crates containing the pieces of one of their most prized cultural treasures.
They had come from a 200-person reserve near the village of Gold River, ranging in age from elders to grade school children. Many remembered how their parents and grandparents spoke about the lost shrine.
“Listening to what my dad said, anything we have doesn’t belong in a place like this,” said Jerry Jack, whose father — who has since died — called for the return of the shrine in the 1994 documentary.
Museum officials signed over ownership of the shrine to the First Nation. Decatur, the museum president, told the delegation that the shrine had been held “far too long here in New York City in this museum, far away from its true home.”
The First Nation representatives offered a series of gifts, including carved wooden masks by local artists. They sang a victory song in their language of Nuu-chah-nulth. A group of men and boys brushed the packages containing the shrine with cedar boughs as part of a cleansing ritual before their departure.
The Laras flew in from California, with Alex Lara overseeing the logistics of the shrine’s shipment. (The transport and the delegation’s trip is being paid for by the Canadian government, which recognized the shrine as a national historic site in the 1980s.)
A century ago, it took months for the shrine to travel from Vancouver Island to New York City. Now, it’ll take less than a week to make its return.
Unwilling to put their ancestors’ remains on a cross-country drive, the 16 skulls were securely placed in reinforced carry-ons that First Nation members took back with them on their flight home, accompanied by documentation to get them through security.
The shipment by truck includes six large cardboard boxes, four wooden crates — the heaviest of which is nearly 400 pounds — and the wooden structure that housed the shrine, which includes several towering poles as tall as 23.5 feet.
Those packages are scheduled to travel west by truck, and then by ferry to Yuquot. From there, according to the current plan, a helicopter service will airlift the pieces to a church, where they will be kept until the community decides on a more permanent resting place.
“It’s been generally known that it’s going to go back to the island from whence it came,” James said. “But it needs to be protected.”
Kirsten Noyes contributed research.
New York
How a Parks Worker Lives on $37,500 in Tompkinsville, Staten Island
How can people possibly afford to live in one of the most expensive cities on the planet? It’s a question New Yorkers hear a lot, often delivered with a mix of awe, pity and confusion.
We surveyed hundreds of New Yorkers about how they spend, splurge and save. We found that many people — rich, poor or somewhere in between — live life as a series of small calculations that add up to one big question: What makes living in New York worth it?
Sara Robinson boarded a Greyhound bus from Oregon to New York City to attend Hunter College in the early 2000s, bright-eyed and eager to pick up odd jobs to fuel her dream of living there.
For a long time, she made it work. But recently, that has been more challenging than ever.
Right around her 40th birthday, Ms. Robinson began to feel financially squeezed in Brooklyn, where she had lived for years. Ms. Robinson (no relation to this reporter) was also feeling too grown to live with roommates.
“As a child,” she said, “you don’t think you’re going to have a roommate at 40.” She decided to move into a place of her own: a one-bedroom apartment in the Tompkinsville neighborhood of Staten Island.
After she moved, the preschool where she’d worked for over a decade closed. Now, she works two jobs. She is a seasonal employee for the state Office of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation, working from Tuesday to Saturday. And on Monday nights, she sells concessions at the West Village movie theater Film Forum, which pays $25 an hour plus tips.
Ms. Robinson, now 45, loves her job as an environmental educator at a state park on Staten Island. Her team runs the park’s social media accounts and comes up with event programming, like a recent project tapping maple trees to make syrup.
But the role is temporary. Her last stint was from June 2024 to January 2025. Then she was unemployed until August 2025. Ms. Robinson’s current contract will be up in April, unless she gets an extension or a different parks job opens up.
Ms. Robinson’s biweekly pay stubs from the parks department amount to about $1,300 before taxes. She barely felt a difference, she said, while she was out of work and pocketing around $880 every two weeks from her unemployment checks. (Her previous parks gig paid $1,100 a check.)
Living in New York’s Greenest Borough
“It used to be, ‘There’s no way I’m moving to Staten Island,’” Ms. Robinson said. “But the place is close to the water. I’m three minutes from the ferry. The rest is history.” She lives on the third floor of a multifamily house, above an art studio and another tenant. Her rent is $1,600 a month, plus $125 in utilities, including her phone bill.
“If my situation changes, I don’t know if I could find something similar,” she said. “So much of my New York life has been feeling trapped to an apartment. You get a place for a good price, and you’re like, ‘I can’t leave now.’”
Staten Island is convenient for Ms. Robinson’s parks job, but it’s become harder to justify living in a borough where she knows few people. It takes more than an hour to get to friends in Brooklyn, an especially hard trek during the winter. After four years of living on Staten Island, Ms. Robinson feels somewhat isolated.
“All my friends on Staten Island are senior citizens,” she said. “It’s great. I love it. But I do want friends closer to my age.”
One of Ms. Robinson’s friends, Ray, took her on nature walks and taught her about tree identification, sparking an interest in mycology, the study of mushrooms. This led to a productive — and free — fungi foraging hobby during unemployment. She has found all sorts of mushrooms, including, after a month of searching, the elusive morel.
The Budgeting Game
Ms. Robinson doesn’t update her furniture often, but when she does, she shops stoop sales in Park Slope or other parts of Brooklyn.
“It’s like a treasure hunt,” she said. “You could make a whole apartment off the street, off the stuff that people throw away.”
She also makes a game out of grocery shopping, biking to Sunset Park in Brooklyn or Manhattan’s Chinatown to go to stores where there are better deals. She budgets about $300 for groceries each month.
Ms. Robinson bikes almost everywhere, sometimes traveling a little farther to enter the Staten Island Railway at one of the stations that don’t charge a fare. She spends $80 a month on subway and ferry fares, and $5 a month for a discounted Citi Bike membership she gets through a credit union, though she usually uses her own bike. She is handy and does repairs herself.
There are certain splurges — Ms. Robinson drops $400 once or twice a year on round-trip airfare to Seattle, where her family lives. She also spent $100 last year to see a concert at Forest Hills Stadium in Queens.
She said she has many financial saving graces. She has no student loans and no car to make payments on. She doesn’t get health insurance from her jobs, but she qualifies for Medicaid.
She mostly eats at home, though sometimes friends will treat her to dinner. She repays them with tickets to Film Forum movies.
Nothing Beats the Twinkling Lights
Ms. Robinson’s friends often talk about leaving the city — and the country.
Two friends have their eyes set on Sweden, where they hope to get the affordable child care and social safety net they are struggling to access in New York.
Ms. Robinson can’t see herself moving elsewhere in the United States, but she is entertaining the idea of an international move if she can’t hack it on Staten Island.
Yet the pull of the city is hard for her to resist.
“I just get a rush when I’m riding the Staten Island Ferry across the bay,” she said. “You see all the little twinkling lights. It’s this feeling of, ‘everything is possible here.’”
That feeling, plus the many friendly faces Ms. Robinson sees every day — the ferry operators, the conductors on the Staten Island Railway, her co-workers at Film Forum — are what tie her to New York.
“My savings are not increasing, so there’s that,” she said. “But I’ve been OK so far. I think I’m going to figure it out.”
New York
How the Editor in Chief of Marie Claire Gets Styled for a Trip to Italy
Nikki Ogunnaike, the editor in chief of Marie Claire magazine, did not grow up the scion of an Anna Wintour or a Marc Jacobs.
But, she said, “my mom and dad are both very stylish people.”
They got dressed up to go to church every week in her hometown Springfield, Va. Her mother managed a Staples; her father, a CVS. “Presentation is important to them,” she said.
Since landing her first internship with Glamour magazine in college, Ms. Ogunnaike, 40, has held editorial roles there and at Elle magazine and GQ. She has been in the top post at Marie Claire since 2023.
She recently spent a Saturday with The New York Times as she prepared for Milan Fashion Week.
New York
How a Physical Therapist and a Retiree Live on $208,000 in Harlem
How can people possibly afford to live in one of the most expensive cities on the planet? It’s a question New Yorkers hear a lot, often delivered with a mix of awe, pity and confusion.
We surveyed hundreds of New Yorkers about how they spend, splurge and save. We found that many people — rich, poor or somewhere in between — live life as a series of small calculations that add up to one big question: What makes living in New York worth it?
It has never really occurred to Marian or Charles Wade to live anywhere but the city where they were born and where they raised their children.
New York is in their bones. “We have our roots here, and our families enjoyed life here before us,” Ms. Wade said.
And they feel lucky. Between Mr. Wade’s pension, earned after more than 40 years as an analyst at the Manhattan district attorney’s office, and his Social Security benefits, along with Ms. Wade’s work as a physical therapist at a psychiatric center, they bring in about $208,000 a year.
Still, it’s hard for the couple not to notice how much the city has changed as it has become wealthier.
About 10 years ago, Ms. Wade, 65, and Mr. Wade, 69, sold the Morningside Heights apartment they had lived in for decades. The Manhattan neighborhood had become more affluent, and tensions over how their building should be managed and how much residents should be expected to pay for upkeep boiled over between people who had lived there for years and newer neighbors.
They found a new home in Harlem, large enough to fit their two children, who are now adults struggling to afford the city’s housing market.
All in the Family
Ms. Wade knew it was time to leave Morningside Heights when she spotted her husband hiding behind a bush outside their building, hoping to avoid an unpleasant new neighbor. They had bought their apartment in 1994 for $206,000, using some money they had inherited from their families, and sold it in 2015 for $1.13 million.
The couple found a new apartment in the Sugar Hill section of Harlem for $811,000, and put most of the money down upfront. They took out a loan with a good rate for the remaining cost, and had a $947 monthly payment. They recently finished paying off the mortgage, but they have monthly maintenance payments of $1,555, as well as two temporary assessments to help improve the building, totaling $415 a month.
Their two children each moved home shortly after graduating from college.
The couple’s son, Jacob Wade, 28, split an apartment with three roommates nearby for a while, but spent down his savings and moved back in with his parents. He is searching for an affordable one bedroom nearby and plans to move out later in the year. Their daughter, Elka Wade, 27, came home after college but recently moved to an apartment in Astoria, Queens, with roommates.
Until their daughter moved out a few weeks ago, she and her brother each took a bedroom, and Mr. and Ms. Wade slept in the dining room, which they had converted into their bedroom with the help of a Murphy bed and a new set of curtains for privacy.
There is very little storage space. A piano occupies an entire closet in their son’s bedroom, because the family has no other place to fit it.
The setup is cramped, but close quarters have their benefits: When their daughter, a classically trained cellist, was living there, she often practiced at home in the evenings. “I love listening to her play,” Ms. Wade said.
Three Foodtowns and a Thrift Shop
The Wades do what they can to keep their costs low. They’ve decided against installing new, better insulated windows in their drafty apartment. They don’t go on vacations, instead visiting their small weekend home in rural upstate New York. And they’ve pulled back on takeout food and retail shopping.
Instead, Mr. Wade surveys the three Foodtown supermarkets near their home for the best deals, preferring one for produce and another for meat. The weekly grocery bill has been around $500 with both kids living at home, and the family usually orders delivery twice a week, rotating between Chinese and Indian food, which typically costs $70, including leftovers.
For an occasional splurge, they love Pisticci, a nearby restaurant where the penne with homemade mozzarella costs $21.
The couple owns a car, which they park on the street for free. But they often use public transportation to avoid paying the $9 congestion pricing fee to drive downtown, or when they have a good parking spot they don’t want to give up. They have a senior discount for their transit cards, which allows them to pay $1.50 per subway or bus ride, rather than $3.
Ms. Wade stopped shopping at the stores she used to frequent, like Eileen Fisher and Banana Republic, years ago. Instead, she visits a thrift store called Unique Boutique on the Upper West Side. She was browsing the aisles a few months ago, before a big Thanksgiving dinner, and spotted the perfect dress for the occasion for just $20.
But she has one nonnegotiable weekly expense: a private yoga lesson in an instructor’s apartment nearby, for $150 a session.
Swapping Mortgage Payments for Singing Lessons
For every member of the Wade family, life in New York is all about the arts.
The children each attended the Special Music School, a public school focused on the arts. Their son, an actor, teacher and director, works part time at the Metropolitan Opera and the Kaufman Music Center, a performing arts complex in Manhattan. His sister works in administration at the Kaufman Center.
Mr. Wade is still close with friends from high school who are now professional musicians, and the couple often goes to see them play at venues like the Bitter End in Greenwich Village, where shows typically have a $12 cover and a two-drink minimum.
The couple has cut back on going to expensive concerts — they used to try to see Elvis Costello every time he came to New York, for example — but have timeworn strategies for getting affordable theater tickets.
They recently splurged on tickets to “Oedipus” on Broadway for themselves and their daughter, who they treated to a ticket as a birthday gift. The seats were in the nosebleed section, but still cost $80 apiece.
The couple has a $75 annual membership to the Film Forum, which gives them reduced price tickets to movies. They occasionally get discounted tickets to the opera through their son’s work, and when they don’t, they pay for family circle passes, which are usually $47 a head, plus a $10 fee.
Ms. Wade, who grew up commuting from Flushing, Queens, to Manhattan to take dance lessons, sometimes takes $20 drop-in ballet classes during the week at the Dance Theater of Harlem, just a few blocks away from the apartment.
Recently, when the couple paid off their mortgage, Ms. Wade celebrated by giving herself a treat: weekly private singing lessons, for $125 a session.
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