Joseph Lee, a member of the Wampanoag Tribe of Gay Head (Aquinnah), has long navigated his roots in the tribal community on Martha’s Vineyard. As a journalist living in New York City, Lee’s work is informed by both his own experiences and years of reporting on environmental and cultural issues affecting Native communities across the country. His connection to the Island continues to shape his perspective and storytelling. In his debut memoir, Nothing More of This Land: Community, Power, and the Search for Indigenous Identity (Atria, July 15, 2025), Lee blends personal history with investigative journalism to explore the complexities of Indigenous identity, displacement, and resilience. This August, he will speak on these topics during the Martha’s Vineyard Book Festival and at the Aquinnah Town Hall.
Martha’s Vineyard Magazine caught up with Lee to discuss his journey as a writer, the significance of land and community, and the evolving role of Indigenous journalism. An edited transcript follows.
Martha’s Vineyard Magazine: What was your childhood like growing up in the Aquinnah Wampanoag community?
Joseph Lee: I grew up primarily off-Island [in Newton, Massachusetts]…and would come back to Aquinnah every summer, every school vacation, and long weekends as a kid.... My brother and I would go to the tribal summer camp, [the Summer Turtle Program,] and would hang out there with all our cousins. Then in the afternoons we would run around town…catch snakes or go to the beach with family, hang out at the [Gay Head Cliffs]…. I feel really lucky to have been able to have had family on-Island and be a part of the tribal community through the camp and other events.
MVM: Your memoir addresses the complex reality of the Aquinnah Wampanoag people being priced out of their ancestral land, as well as stories of challenges facing other Indigenous communities around the world. What personal experiences or observations led to writing this book?
JL: Growing up in Massachusetts…visiting Martha’s Vineyard and growing up in American schools, obviously you don’t learn a lot about Native people – and what you do learn is very narrow and limited. I think, especially being Wampanoag, we learn about the Mayflower and the first Thanksgiving…and you don’t hear that much about us after that.
But I knew that wasn’t the end of the story, because here I was going to tribal camp…. I wanted to learn more about how the Tribe came to be, how our tribal government formed, how that was impacted by changes on Martha’s Vineyard, how that was impacted by big national challenges on policy – whether that’s land policy or citizenship policy. Those were some of the big questions at the beginning of thinking about the book and, as I started researching, it raised more questions.
MVM: Nothing More of This Land touches on the broader question of what it means to be Indigenous today. Did your own understanding of identity evolve through the writing process?
JL: I think so, yeah. One of the things I write about is that – and this is true with many identities, but certainly with Indigenous identity – we are constantly told by outsiders what that’s supposed to look like or what that’s supposed to be: what it means to be Indigenous, to look a certain way, be a certain way. I always knew that wasn’t true, that I could still be Indigenous and I could still be Wampanoag without aligning with some stereotype….
One of the best parts of writing this book was meeting so many different people and having so many different conversations about what being Indigenous means to them, how they embody their Indigenous identity, how they practice their culture, how they build community, what they think all that means…. In that way, writing the book was a great way for me to open up what being Indigenous means. Hopefully some of that will translate to readers.
MVM: About three-quarters of Aquinnah Wampanoag tribal members now live off-Island. Has this shift impacted community cohesion? Do you feel it affects the passing down of cultural traditions?
JL: That’s one of the key aspects of what it means to be Aquinnah Wampanoag today – so many of us don’t live in Aquinnah or on Martha’s Vineyard. That’s just the reality of our situation, and it’s been that way for a long time….
In writing the book, I think I came to see it more as part of who we are...as seafaring people. Wampanoag people are always moving around and have always been traveling. That doesn’t take away from the relationship we have with our home, but it complicates it; that’s one of the things I’ve come to embrace. My great-grandfather [Charles Sr.] left and came back, my grandfather [Charles Jr.] left and came back, my mother [Martha left and came back]. That’s always been the story of the Tribe, and my family specifically. The more we can embrace that and see that as an important part of who we are, the more we can use that as a strength.
MVM: What does the Island represent to you now, both as a physical place and as a symbol of your Tribe’s future and history?
JL: For the Tribe, it’s our home and it always will be our home. But what that means and looks like is always evolving…. Our government is there, our traditions are there, we have gatherings there. For me, personally, it’s where my family is. My parents are there right now – they have a shop up at the cliffs [Hatmarcha Gifts]. One of the other things I write about in the book is that Indigenous land can sometimes feel like this abstract ideal – or at least it did to me. But what is important is the relationship you build with the land and the people and the community. The memories I have of going to summer camp, exploring with my brother, or, recently, going to tribal council meetings or working at the store, that’s how I think about it now.
MVM: What role does Indigenous journalism play in pushing back against erasure or inaccurate narratives?
JL: We need more Indigenous journalists. For hundreds of years there’s been a dominant narrative of this country and its history. Indigenous journalism is a means of questioning that, and pushing back against that, and telling alternate points of view that have been often overlooked or actively silenced. It’s not just something that’s going to benefit Indigenous people; it benefits all of us to understand what our history is. If we really do want to find some way to make things better going forward, then it’s going to take that kind of honest reflection.
MVM: Your writing blends the personal with the political. How do you decide when a story demands both your voice and your lived experience versus a more traditional journalistic lens?
JL: Most of the work I do day-to-day is pure journalism. Objective. Factual. There’s no first-person aspect to it, and I think that’s important. But for the book, I wanted something that was personal and from my perspective, because I hope that readers identify with that in some way. I want to bring them along with me.... I’m not a historian and I’m not a tribal leader.... I wanted to share my perspective.
MVM: Let’s shift back to your time on the Vineyard. Are there any places you feel drawn to? Any traditions or activities that feel especially grounding?
JL: Beyond our family home or family land, the cliffs would have to be the first place. That’s where my family has a store, my cousins have stores, and I’ve spent so much time there. When I think of the Island, that is one of the first places I think about. To answer the other part of the question, one of my favorite things to do…is clamming. I’ve been clamming for most of my life.
MVM: What has changed the most each time you return to the Vineyard?
JL: I think it’s hard to notice changes. It’s the kind of place where a little change can feel like a big change, like a traffic light, for example (laughs), or the grocery store renovation. These kind of things can feel like a very big change in a place like Martha’s Vineyard. But beyond these things, the biggest thing that has changed has been my personal relationship with the Island and the way I think about it and visit it and the things I do there.
MVM: What has remained the same?
JL: Physically the place is, and I think always will be, a very beautiful place. The beaches, the waters, the woods, the cliffs – Martha’s Vineyard is just an incredibly beautiful place. That’s why so many people are drawn to it. It’s very peaceful. Beyond all that, the people and the feeling of home and community has always been there. Some people have passed away, some have moved away, but there’s always tribal family there for me to see. I can’t see that ever changing.
