How Do You Write Land Acknowledgements On Websites?
You’re probably here because you’ve thought about adding a land acknowledgment to your website—but you’re wondering if it’s performative. Maybe you’ve already written one and still feel uneasy, asking yourself, “Is this enough?”
I’ve been there.
When I first added a land acknowledgment to my website, I felt conflicted. Was it the “right” thing to do, or just a box to check? And what else could I do beyond naming the land I’m on?
While researching, I came across a powerful article, “Eight Calls to Action in Place of Land Acknowledgment” by Ecotrust. They stated:
“Recently, land acknowledgments have come under criticism in many corners of the Indigenous world, calling them performative, token gestures, and therefore largely meaningless.”
This made me pause. If land acknowledgments alone aren’t enough, what actions actually matter?
Here are three ideas I’ve learned over time—from conversations with Indigenous people and Indigenous-led organizations—that can move a land acknowledgment into real action
Give Land Back
Land acknowledgments are important—but real action means returning land to Indigenous stewardship whenever possible.
Ecotrust’s article includes seven more action steps from Indigenous leaders on how to support land rematriation efforts.
(Source: Ecotrust)
Keeping it past tense is a tool of colonialism.
Dispossession isn’t just history—it’s happening now. If we only acknowledge Indigenous people in the past, we erase their continued presence and rights.
(Source: Nahanee Creative, CBC Canada)
Reflect on Your Relationship with the Land
A land acknowledgment isn’t just about naming the land—it’s about deepening your connection to it. When I started, I only had this. While admittedly it did feel performative, I also felt like it was what I could do for that time.
“I live on Catawba and Sugeree lands, now known as Charlotte, North Carolina.”
Over time, I rewrote it to something more personal, something that recognizes Indigenous presence today and my own relationship with the land:
“I live and work in Charlotte, NC, about a 10-minute walk from the center of the city. For thousands of years, two main Indian routes led to the Catawba River—where I often kayak. When I do, I choose to remember the people of the River, the Catawba, whose families played, fished, and lived here long before this place was called Charlotte. It reminds me of my own ancestors, the Bugis people, a seafaring society that recognized five genders. So today, I pause and reflect on how much they’ve loved and tended to the land I now get to love and fight for.”
And now, as I continue to commit, it is now in my footer as:
“Works worldwide from the traditional lands of the Mánu: Yį Įsuwą,meanin”g “Land of the River People” in the Catawba language. Honoring their stewardship means moving with care. whether in design, community, or impact.