One area of the paranormal where I see this difference illuminated is in the study of “haunted” objects, or as my ancestors would say, objects with apparent spiritual attachment. As of late, stories of “haunted” objects are everywhere in pop culture. We see it in big box office horror movies like the Annabelle film series. Supposedly based on real life events, Annabelle, Annabelle: Creation, and Annabelle Comes Home highlight the story of a possessed doll that terrorizes everyone it comes into contact with, until paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren contain its evil. 

Zak Bagans, an internationally known paranormal investigator and host of the long-running reality television series Ghost Adventures, started a Haunted Museum based in Las Vegas, Nevada, that features intriguing, occasionally terrifying “haunted” objects such as Dr. Jack Kevorkian’s death van, the robe Charles Manson was wearing when he died, and a Dybbuk Box that is said to be the most “haunted” object in the world. 

Our Indigenous ancestors did not see everything in black or white, good vs. evil—including “haunted” objects. Nonetheless, I do plan on visiting Zak’s Museum someday. 

There are ripples of change in the paranormal community at-large as well. Greg and Dana Newkirk, who have their own collection of “haunted” objects and feature them on their popular podcast, seem to be sharing a less colonial outlook on these kinds of enigmatic pieces. While they are eager to explore the eerie events that surround these objects, they are more comfortable sitting with the mystery they hold, and less likely to define them as seeds of the devil. Perhaps their unique perspective is rooted in Greg’s questioning of his Baptist upbringing, or in Dana being a self-described Hedge Witch, who runs an up-and-coming Magic of the Month Club. They would likely tell you their views have changed over time due to their own research and in-depth study of the paranormal.  

Either way, as a Native woman who practices Oceti Sakowin spirituality, I consider their analyses to be a much needed breath of fresh air. They’ve  put out a few documentaries: Hellier (2012), and most recently, The Unbinding (2023). While I won’t divulge the details, the latter tells a spellbinding story of an alleged “haunted” object. And despite Newkirk’s focus on curiosity rather than fear, have no doubt that either project delivers seriously creepy viewing that will have you questioning everything you thought you knew about the spirit world and the unknown.

My family and I have had our own experiences with “haunted” objects.

My paternal grandmother, a Sisseton-Wahpeton Dakota woman, was once tasked with eliminating spiritually-infested masks and various other objects taken from war dead when one of her adopted sons brought them back to the Reservation from southeast Asia. He had been stationed there during World War II. He bought the masks from vendors who were selling them along the street. The masks were brightly colored and depicted ancient entities worshiped by local Tribespeople. He was captivated by them, and thought they would be interesting souvenirs to show the folks back home. Besides the masks, he had collected items from enemy Japanese soldiers on the fields of battle. For the Oceti Sakowin, taking articles from enemy war dead after battle was a long held, commonly-practiced custom. 

Like most Indigenous groups, extended families lived together. Grandparents, parents, children, grandchildren, and even aunts and uncles and their children would stay under one roof. This was the case when my uncle-cousin came back from his tour of duty. When he arrived home, according to my father, everyone was excited. He was welcomed with open arms. They ate a big meal together, and as he got settled in and unpacked, he revealed his treasures to the family. My grandmother Mabel, who became a Christian but remained spiritually sensitive and was learned in Oceti Sakowin spirituality as well as traditional medicine, was immediately suspicious of the objects. They felt “wrong” to her. She asked where he got them from, and he responded honestly. He was proud of how he obtained them: through acts of valor committed in defense of his people and lands. 

That very night, baffling disturbances began to occur within the house. Family members heard voices and saw the shadows of invisible strangers. The very foundation of their cabin would shake, especially in the corner where the masks and other objects were being displayed. These ostensibly spiritual manifestations escalated fast. It became apparent to everyone that the objects my uncle-cousin brought home with him were accompanied by visitors from overseas. Spirits were attached to them, and these spirits did not know what far away land they now found themselves in. They were not at rest, and needless to say, they were not happy about it.  

My grandmother knew just what to do. She carefully and thoughtfully collected the objects. These objects could not be taken back to their place of origin, but she could release the spirits that they held, and conduct a ritual that would keep them from harassing and annoying her family. No one witnessed the ceremony my grandmother performed in absent company, but once she was finished, we knew that she had buried them in a suitable place. The objects were never seen again, and the spirits that accompanied the objects never made their presence felt in the house after that night.

As an adult, I came into contact with an antique that appeared to hold more than just memories.