Alameda Native History Project

Tag: alameda ohlone

  • Growing Up on the The Alameda Shellmound

    An old sunlit room with peeling walls and dusty floorboards, a faint human silhouette visible through a fogged window. Overlaid text reads “Growing Up on the Alameda Shellmound” with the URL nativehistoryproject.org at the bottom.

    Ohlone people buried their loved ones in mounds long before any of us ever came here.

    They’re called shellmounds.

    The “Ancient Indian Burial Mounds” of Ohlone people–ancestors of the present-day Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area.

    They were built long before any of this was here.

    Long before some old dead white dudes squatted on what was then a peninsula. Before it got dredged into an Island and eventually called “Alameda.”

    Long before this place was called la Bolsa de Encinal to Mexicans, land grant parcels on the extension of former Mission Lands that stretched north from San Jose de Guadalupe, to the Carquinez Strait.

    Long before Ohlone were called Costanoan, when Portola came through in who-cares-when. Before the missions were founded in 1776[–which is the same time a meddlesome group of colonists declared their independence from England on the East Coast of this continent.]

    Even longer before: when this area was just a valley with a little river in it…..

    THIS PLACE HAS BEEN OHLONE TERRITORY SINCE TIME IMMEMORIAL

    10,000+ years of habitation meant those shellmounds were real, and big.

    There were thousands of shellmounds all over the San Francisco Bay Area. Some of the biggest recorded shellmounds were in Emeryville.

    At least 4 shellmounds were right here, in Alameda.

    And while many may not exist above ground.

    Ohlone Ancestors still lie in wait below.

    To be discovered during foundation upgrades, trenching, and in-ground pool installations.

    The Shellmounds of Alameda

    I grew up in a pre-victorian house on Court Street, about a block away from my grandparent’s house, which was firmly on the edge of the Mound Street Shellmound, around Santa Clara and Mound Street.

    Being an Indian kid, adopted out of his tribe from birth, raised on an island that’s just as well known for its racism as it is the former naval air station, things were tough. And, I’ll be honest, I only ever wanted to go home.

    So, maybe it was my spirit calling that influenced what I saw as a child. Because my white adopted parents’ money paid for all the psychological and physical testing that proved I wasn’t suffering from some psychosis or more serious condition. [Laying down in a dark room with electrodes attached to my head was an interesting experience.]

    I never really got a lot of peace in that house when I was alone. From an early age, I learned not to go too far into the basement by myself. Not necessarily because it was dangerous; but because other things lived there.

    The House on Court Street

    The Bad Dream Light

    Before my sister came to live with us, (she’s adopted, too; and came home in 1989,) I slept in the room which would become hers.

    It was a small, narrow room, with popcorn ceiling, and walls; with access to the attic through a panel in the ceiling of the closet.

    Next to the was an old “ancient” light fixture which had probably been there since the house was electrified. [It was also moved from the corner of Benton & Santa Clara to the place on the 1300 block of Court Street where this all occurs.]

    My dad remembers that I called that the “Bad Dream Light”. He doesn’t remember why specifically. But, he told me, when it came time to pick which room I would sleep in once my sister arrived, I picked the room at the front of the house–not the one with the light.

    This is only a footnote about myself that was told to me. And it shrouds the next story in even more mystery because it makes me wonder if it came from the attic.

    Ruby In the Attic

    My earliest memory of something being a little off seems somewhat inconsequential. It’s more of a passing note.

    But, at some point, I remember finding some jewelry in my mom’s jewelry box and somehow knowing that it was the kind of jewelry that Ruby used to wear.

    I never met someone named Ruby; and I have no idea how I could know that. But I remember telling my dad that Ruby was the woman who lived in the attic.

    Of course, nobody could live in the attic; it was just a crawl space.

    This whole thing was forgotten until many years later, into my adulthood, when I remembered this, and asked my Dad who Ruby was. [In fact, I asked both my parents, and my birth mother.]

    It turns out: Ruby is the name of my father’s great aunt.

    The Procession in the Hallway

    I don’t like talking about this. Because, out of all my experiences, this is the one that legitimately makes me seem crazy. Despite the confidence of having had a total psychological and physical work up, and knowing this wasn’t the product of some kind of illness: it’s still something that bothers me to this day.

    Have you ever had a light shined in your eyes that you could see even after you closed them? Like a silvery, shadowy afterimage burned into your retinas? Some people call them “eidetic images”, mental images with unusual vividness–an exceptional ability that only children between 6 and 12 are able to possess.

    Now, imagine you’re a 6 year old who can’t sleep; so you went into the living room, and are watching late-night/early-morning television on the big recliner in front of the T.V.

    At some point, you become aware of something moving out of the corner of your eye. So you look. And what you see is the outline, a silvery shadowy outline of a person. And it’s walking down the hallway.

    You watch, as it walks down the hallway, behind the living room wall…. And then appears in the other living room entryway, at the same pace, in the same manner. Just minding its own business.

    It can’t be real. Because it looks just like the afterimage of a bright light shined in your face. And you know no one’s there, because it’s too late, it’s night time, and there’s no one there.

    But it is.

    Except, it’s not minding its business. It has noticed you. So it’s stopped, and turned to face you directly, staring back. With no face, no details, just this weird shadowy figure.

    You will the thing to go away, to leave you alone. But it does not disappear when you close your eyes and open them again. It turns back and walks down the hall on its own time.

    In the beginning it was just one figure watching me from the hallway. Then it was two or three.

    If I kept my eyes on the TV and pretended like I didn’t notice them, they would keep going, only occasionally stopping to look at me.

    It terrified me to see them. But my room was also terrifying on its own, too. Sometimes the bed would move, vibrate, or I would … feel like there was something waiting to pour forth from my closet the whole time.

    But it wasn’t as simple as just ignoring them.

    They never came into the living room. Never approached me. Never made a sound.

    But there were so many that the hallway seemed crowded.

    Something changed that made it stop. I can’t remember what.

    But it’s worth noting that from the time I was born and lived in that house, the neighboring block, the former site of Lincoln School, had been razed and was being developed into the south-west inspired houses that sit there now. [From 1986 to 1991 at least.]

    Considering how many burials are still being unearthed in 2025: Who knows how many burials were hiding just below the surface of the former high school grounds.

    Is it possible that I saw Ohlone ancestors wandering through my house, searching for their way back home? Or were they the figment of an overactive imagination?

    The Basement Double

    Because the house had been moved from its original lot at Benton Street and Santa Clara Avenue, it never had a real foundation. At some point, my dad had paid for a foundation to be built underneath the half that held our bedrooms, but the rest of the “foundation” was a collection of 4×4 posts sitting on piles of bricks.

    This meant the “basement”–the ground floor of the house–was mostly dirt, covered by plywood.

    The basement was always spooky. Not because it was dark, or dangerous. But because I could tell something else lived there. And that I was an interloper. It’s a feeling that never left me, no matter how well let, or how cozy it ever became.

    When it was still mostly unfinished, the two most recognizable rooms were the laundry room, and the workshop. Early on, my dad spent a lot of time in both. Mostly doing laundry, and sometimes tinkering in the workshop. If he couldn’t be found upstairs, he was downstairs doing either.

    To get to the “basement”, you would go out a side door in the back of the house, and walk down a staircase that wrapped around to the exterior door–which was padlocked shut when no one was in there.

    Usually, I could be left to my own devices. I would entertain myself or play games, read books. But at this point in the day, I got bored and went looking for my dad.

    I checked the bedrooms, the kitchen, and the bathroom. No one was around. So, I figured he was probably downstairs.

    When I poked my head out of the side door, I saw the back of him turn the corner at the bottom landing.

    I shouted, “Dad!”

    And jumped down the stars a landing at a time. Reaching the bottom and turning just in time to see him disappear into the basement.

    At this point I’m thinking he’s playing a game. So I rushed into the basement calling out for him.

    But the basement was dark. There was no sign my dad was down there. The washing machine wasn’t running. There were no lights on anywhere, not in the workshop. Not in the garage.

    I realized very quickly that I was alone.

    That, maybe, this was a trap.

    And with these realizations, things started to feel like they were closing in on me. I felt exposed. Viscerally. Almost … in danger.

    Even though I knew I should probably run, I felt frozen.

    It wasn’t until I heard the toilet flush upstairs that I was able to gather my wits, and zoom out the door.

    I caught my dad just as he was coming out of the bathroom door.

    Not wanting to let on about the terrifying experience I just escaped, I cried, “Oh, there you are!”

    The Vertebra

    I found a bone in the dirt in this little room in the back of the basement. The room itself was squared off by walls, and it had a large step of poured concrete, much like a bulk-head–but very much unlike every other part of the basement. This looked like the most built up part of the whole house to be honest. Even though it lacked real walls, and a real floor.

    I was messing around in the dirt in the back there, because it was so powdery and light. It was just dust, I liked running my hands through it because of its smooth, silky texture.

    And that’s when I found it.

    A bone, pale, pitted, but whole. With no obvious cuts or missing pieces: I could tell it was a vertebra. [Because reference books were my only friends.]

    When I showed my mom, she told me it was a dog.

    Or a cow, when I pushed back. But I knew.

    I kept that bone for years. The last time I saw it was in my room, on my bookshelf. But I can’t tell you where it is today. It’s probably somewhere in storage, waiting to be re-discovered.

    Living on a Haunted Island

    My house wasn’t the only place where I experienced things. Most of Alameda is haunted by its own past. The Shellmounds of Alameda had long been used as overspread, the bones of Muwekma ancestors used for fertilizing rose bushes … and paving Bay Farm Road.

    But even its more contemporary history echoed in the abandoned halls of buildings long forgotten.

    My personal history of exploring the abandoned buildings on the former Alameda naval air station as a teenager is extensive.

    And some of the most heart-pounding experiences I have ever shared with my friends have taken place in buildings that no longer even stand today.

    This is not to introduce a story so far away from home as it is to introduce the fact that I have had experiences which have been shared and witnessed with other people.

    The Swaying Woman in the Closet

    At some point during my teenage years, I had removed the door from my closet. My childhood fears of what lurked inside had been abandoned.

    In that version of my bedroom layout, my bed was positioned directly across from the closet.

    One night, a friend was sleeping over. The lights were off. We were getting ready to go to sleep. I was just starting to relax when I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye.

    In the doorway of the closet, there was the outline or shadow of a woman with long hair.

    She was standing there. Her feet were planted. But she was swaying side to side–moving left to right unnaturally fast. Ping-ponging in place between the door jambs.

    No human could move that way. And no one else was in the room besides us. This woman wasn’t really there. Even though I could see her, and feel her angry, unsettled energy.

    I saw it. But, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to scare my friend.

    After a moment, they asked, “Do you see that?”

    Which meant they saw it too.

    I just replied, “Go to sleep,”

    And pulled the blanket over their head.

    Rosa in the Den

    Rosa was a rescue dog from Guatemala. A collie type dog with calico colors and spots.

    At this point, I was in my 20’s. The house had been renovated almost a decade ago, so there was a den in the basement now, with a real locking door to the rest of the still-unfinished basement.

    My sister’s dog had recently passed. He was a miniature Dachshund who succumbed to old age. This happened not long after.

    Rosa and I would sit downstairs on the couch in the den and watch TV together. (She had actually started watching it with me, commenting in her own way on what was happening on the screen. Which was … almost more fun to watch than TV.)

    Tonight was no different.

    Except, Rosa suddenly cued up on something.

    She started, and looked at the recliner across from us. Then she seemed to watch something go from the recliner to the floor. And continued to track something as it went under the coffee table directly in front of us.

    Then she let out a whimper. And covered her eyes with her paws.

    I couldn’t ask her what she saw. But it seemed like it was small, almost like another animal. I still wonder about it to this day.

    The Bureau Shadow

    Sometimes it was hard to tell if I was just imagining things. If something was really there. Or if I were somehow picking up on the echoes of the past.

    Upstairs, on the main floor, the renovations to the house saw an addition of a bathroom in my parents’ room, as well as the removal of the walls separating the living room from the hallway and the dining room. We now had an open floor plan, and stairs leading down into the den from the dining room.

    Other changes had been made. For instance, the front door now had a frosted glass oval window in the center, and another window frame on top. This allowed the porch light to illuminate the whole space with a gentle glow.

    I could basically walk in a diagonal line from my room to the bathroom. I guess that’s not really a big deal now that I think of it. But I wonder why I didn’t just take that route one night when I saw a shadow in the hallway.

    It wasn’t one of the things I used to see walking through the hall when I was younger. This was different.

    In the hallway, along the wall between my sister’s bedroom door–the narrow bedroom between my parents’ and mine … was a bureau of draws, about waist height, with a mirror mounted lengthwise on top.

    It was long, sturdy. And it used to belong to my mom’s parents. My grandmother used it, and it used to have a picture of me and her wedged in the frame. But that was long ago.

    Now it was in the hallway. And it held linen and place settings for the dining room table.

    But there was something else there tonight.

    A shadow of a person. Standing in front of the bureau, its hands flat on the table top, gazing into the mirror.

    I could have walked around it, like I said. I probably should have. But, for some reason, I didn’t. I thought, like all of the other strange things, it would just disappear as soon as I came too close to it.

    I was wrong.

    It only became more solid the closer I got.

    Until I was standing next to it.

    Realizing that it was blocking the light.

    And that I could sense its presence like you can sense someone standing next to you.

    I didn’t walk through it. I didn’t touch it. In fact, I moved around it, and said, “Excuse me”, as I passed.

    Then I went into my room. Locked the door. And didn’t leave for the rest of the night.

    The Grandparents’ House on the Shellmound

    My dad’s parents lived three blocks away from us. At about Santa Clara Avenue, and Mound Street. Well within the bounds of the shellmound on Mound Street.

    I never felt alone in that house. And I never really felt at ease. It always seemed like I was just one corner away from seeing something I was really prepared for. Whatever that thing would be. I felt it lurking in the walls, behind every door, and inside every cabinet.

    The place vibrated with a strong, unsettling feeling. Even outside, I felt like everything inside was watching me through the windows. Was waiting for me behind the trees. Even in the open space of the backyard, the detached shed–which was actually a nice, newer, single room building–had that vibe to it.

    Something not necessarily foreboding, but just not entirely welcoming or at-ease.

    I was the most scared of the dorm room on the third floor my dad and his three brothers (my uncles) shared growing up. But the basement–real basement–with my grandpa’s den and the cellar were a very close second. However, I felt like I could stay there for a little longer without feeling too creeped out.

    Up on the third floor, I became paranoid that things were happening on the floors below me, just out of sight. But down in the den, I didn’t want to turn my back on anything.

    My fear of the house was so strong that I never wanted to stay the night. Ever. And I don’t think I ever stayed more than one night at any time.

    The last time I slept there, I slept in the living room on the couch because I didn’t want to go any deeper into the house.

    My dad’s cousin said he and my uncles used to dig up arrowheads in the cellar. I never ventured onto the dirt over there. Even after both my grandparents had passed, it was my job to pack up the house. My partner at the time was there, working with me.

    Our workflow was to pick up stuff, wrap it in packing paper, then put it in a box, label the box, seal it up, and transfer it to storage.

    One of the first things I did was teach myself how to use the security system, and assign myself and all my family members separate pins for the alarm. It seemed important because I wanted to make sure the house was secure since no one was living inside it anymore. It was a basic system that chimed and announced when a door or window was opened.

    So my partner and I had managed to make really good progress on packing everything up, and had managed to work our way down to the den.

    At some point, we ran out of some packing supplies. My partner stayed working in the den as I locked the door and left to get more.

    When I came back, he was visibly shaken. And he wanted to know if I had come back earlier.

    When I asked him why, he told me that he heard someone come into the house, and walk all the way to the back room, where my grandparents used to sit and watch TV all the time.

    No one else was in the house. The alarm would have announced an open door. But there was no record of any event other than my return.

    Maybe I never saw anything in the house because I never wanted to. Because I was scared enough just being there that I didn’t need to.

    I still dream about both my childhood house, and my grandparents’ house. They’re usually nightmares about growing up on the burial mound.

    It wasn’t until I started doing local research that I learned about the other shellmounds in Alameda.

    I know I’m not the only one who’s had these experiences.

    Hopefully this gives other people the courage to reach out and share theirs.

    Thank you for reading this.

  • I Found Bones In My Backyard, What Do I do?

    You are on Native Land.

    Alameda is hallowed ground.

    The site of no less than four “Ancient Indian Burial Mounds.” (We call them Shellmounds now.) The resting place of Ohlone ancestors.

    It sounds so distant when people use the word “ancestors”. Because it’s so safe; and sterilized by a false sense of temporal distance.

    Even though those shellmounds contained the Great-Great-Grandparents of Muwekma (the word for “Ohlone People“, in their language, Chochenyo) who are alive and well today.

    But the bodies didn’t stay buried.

    Bones from shellmounds were used to fertilize the fields, gardens, and flower beds which became iconic as soon as Mark Twain called Alameda the “Garden of California”.

    The remains of hundreds of Native Americans were used to pave Bay Farm Road. Twice.

    The bodies of thousands of Ohlone people were crushed, and pulverized, to make concrete for sidewalks, and foundations for houses. Their graves pushed over to fill marshland, and level out the numerous railways running through the island we now call “Alameda”.

    So it’s no wonder you found someone in your backyard.

    Native American Graves are being Still Being Uncovered in Alameda Today

    The story goes: a contractor working on a new deck, or a foundation crew digging around the cribs will find some bones. Human bones.

    You’re supposed to stop work, supposed to call the Police Department and report the discover of a burial. Because it could a crime scene. Or it could be a Native American Grave.

    If the bones look old enough, some contractors will turn a blind eye, and toss them back into the ground for some other guy to dig up.

    But that’s not how you should do it.

    Here are the 5 Steps to Honoring Native American Graves on the Stolen Land You Now Occupy

    Step 1:

    Don’t call the Museum!

    If you find bones in Alameda while digging, do not call the Alameda Museum.

    The Alameda Museum has no one on staff, or on call, who is qualified to identify or store Native American artifacts.

    Since 1948 the Alameda Museum had mis-identified Ohlone people as “Miwok”, instead of “Costanoan” which is what Ohlone people in the Bay Area were known as until about the 1970’s. This mis-identification ended abruptly when the Alameda Native History Project interceded in the miss-identification of the First Alamedans (Muwekma) and mis-attribution of their stolen property.

    So don’t call them. They don’t know what they’re doing.

    Step 2:

    Let the ancestors rest!

    Stop work.

    Don’t touch a damn thing.

    🤬 around and catch a curse. Or a case.

    [CA HSC §7050.5(a) : Every person who knowingly mutilates or disinters, wantonly disturbs, or willfully removes any human remains in or from any location other than a dedicated cemetery without authority of law is guilty of a misdemeanor….]

    I know it sucks: but pay the crew for the rest of the day and send them home.

    You’re done for the day.

    Step 3:

    Report the discovery to the police!

    Who honestly knows if this is an ancient burial? Your contractor isn’t an expert either. It doesn’t matter what they say.

    Stop work and call the police immediately.

    The sooner you call, the sooner this gets settled.

    [Also, this is not a real skeleton. All of these images were made with AI because using real skeletons would be disrespectful.]

    Step 4:

    Wait for the Coroner

    While you’re waiting, check out California Health and Safety Code Section 7050.5

    The Coroner is the only person who has the authority to identify whether or not the remains are Native American.

    “[I]f the coroner recognizes the human remains to be those of a Native American, or has reason to believe that they are those of a Native American” he or she will contact the Native American Heritage Commission (NAHC) within 24 hours.

    NAHC will send for a Tribal Consultant from the Tribal Groups affiliated with the area where the discovery was made, and whomever NAHC also determines is the Most Likely Descendant.

    Step 5:

    Step back. Tribal Consultants will handle the rest.

    Consultation is private. Anyone who isn’t directly involved, won’t be.

    At the end of consultation, you will generally be presented with two options:

    1. Re-Inter (or Re-Bury) the ancestor(s) in a place on the property where they will not be disturbed again.
    2. Tribal Consultants will remove their ancestor(s) and repatriate them at their Tribal Cemetery.

    That’s it!

    You just helped protect Native American Graves, and reunited someone’s ancestor with their family!

    Encourage your neighbors to do the same.

    Encourage the Alameda Museum to do the right thing, and give their collection of stolen artifacts back to the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area.

    Email the Alameda Museum here.

  • Muwekma Ohlone Tribe Marches on California Capitol

    August 8, 2024 – Sacramento, California

    It’s morning at the Muwekma horse camp in West Sacramento, on the other side of the river from the California Capitol Building.

    Riders are beginning to saddle up.

    Charlene Nijmeh, Chairwoman of the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area, looks pensively at her phone, while her husband, Kennedy, checks in with everyone, as we prepare to march on the California State Capitol.

    Miwok Nation, and La Raza, brought their low-riders to escort Muwekma to the Capitol Building.

    The night before, the Muwekma Tribe had been invited to take part in a bear dance and blessing for Muwekma’s protection and strength, as they travel on the Trail of Truth, to Washington, D.C..

    The Miwok tribe has been a great ally to Muwekma. And an integral part of Muwekma’s efforts to re-awaken and breathe life into their language and traditions.

    Today, [August 8th, 2024,] the tribe plans to march to the steps of the California Capitol Building, to make an address; and then head a block away, to California Governor Gavin Newsom’s office, to deliver Muwekma’s list of demands.

    The California Highway Patrol; West Sacramento, and Sacramento Police Departments would shut down the streets, as the tribe marched over the Tower Bridge, and down Capitol Mall, to the California State Capitol Building.

    See the livestream of the march on our Instagram account, @AlamedaNativeHistoryProject, below:

    The Muwekma Chairwoman speaks on the steps of the California State Capitol

    On the steps of the Capitol Building, in 100 degree (Fahrenheit) heat, Chairwoman Nijmeh, and tribal member (and culture bearer) Joey Torres, spoke to a crowd of supporters, tourists, on-lookers; while the horses, and many others listened from under the shade of the trees.

    Chairwoman Nijmeh spoke about the impacts of being a formerly recognized tribe, asking other tribes for permission to bury their own ancestors and relatives–because Muwekma no longer has the standing (federal recognition) required to receive the bodies of their own ancestors.

    About how the University of California system won’t return the bodies of thousands of Ohlone people University archaeologists stolen from Native American Graves because Muwekma is no longer federally recognized.

    The Chairwoman told us how tribal members of the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe are missing out on healthcare, and a college education, because the federal government won’t recognize its trust responsibility to the tribe. Which is made up of all the known surviving Ohlone lineages in the Bay Area, according to the government’s own records.

    Joey Torres spoke about the solidarity of so many many tribal members and nations, like the Miwok Nation, Oglala Nation, and Calpulli Tonalehqueh and the spiritual and historic journey Muwekma is on: the Trail of Truth.

    See an excerpt of the speeches given by the Muwekma Ohone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area, on the steps of the California State Capitol:

    After a short break to hydrate and regroup, the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area, followed by their supporters in person and online, began their march to Governor Gavin Newsom’s office, to deliver the tribe’s list of demands.

    Muwekma Ohlone Tribal Chairwoman Charlene Nijmeh leads the procession to the California State Governor’s Office.

    California Governor Gavin Newsom did not meet with Muwekma;

    Instead a representative of the governor’s office came to meet the crowd at the door.

    Chairwoman Nijmeh read the tribe’s statement and personally served Gavin Newsom’s representative with a copy of the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe’s Demand for Tribal Rights.

    The Chairwoman told the man that the tribe expects a response. That silence on the matter of the tribal rights–not just of Muwekma, but all the California Tribes who were erroneously removed from the Tribal Rolls–would no longer stand.

    “We’re going to be loud!” Chairwoman Nijmeh vowed, “And we’re not going to go away.”

    August 8, 2024 was the first time a Native American Tribe marched to the California State Capitol to demand their rights and support for federal recognition. It was a monumentally historic day for all California Natives, and for members of unrecognized tribes everywhere.

    Stay tuned for more about the Trail of Truth, and more about this issue.

    Follow the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area on their Trail of Truth at Muwekma.org, and on their various social media accounts.

  • Alameda Shellmound Map Re-Released

    More detailed Alameda historical ecology.

    All four Alameda Shellmounds.

    Featuring Alameda’s Ancient Live Oak Forest, Historic Shoreline, and Bay Area Historic Wetlands layers.

    All juxtaposed against the modern day landscape to provide accurate scale and positioning.

    Available in several sizes.

    Preview the new Alameda Shellmound Map V.2. Available in 3 sizes. Get it now!

    More Detailed Historic Geography

    Because of the juxtaposition of the historic peninsula with it’s present day silhouette, it is much easier to see which parts of Alameda were physically connected and formed the peninsula more recently known as the “Encinal”.

    Both Alameda and Oakland are in a region referred to as Xučyun (also known as “Huchiun”.) Xučyun is part of the ancestral homeland of the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area. Muwekma have lived in the Bay Area for over 10,000 years.

    Includes All Four Alameda Shellmounds

    For the first time, all four of the Alameda Shellmounds have been put onto one map. Most people only know about the shellmound on Mound Street. But there are more shellmounds, in Alameda. There were over 425 shellmounds in the Bay Area. Including Alameda’s largest shellmound, at the foot Chestnut.

    Why is this important?

    • The existence of the three other Alameda Shellmounds was overlooked by all of Alameda’s previous historians*, including long-time (since retired) curator of the Alameda Museum: George Gunn.
    • From 1948, to 2020: the Alameda Museum falsely identified the First Alamedans as “a branch of Miwok”, instead of “Costanoan” or Ohlone.
    • The Alameda Native History Project is responsible for stepping forward and correcting the record, and educating the public about the real Alameda Native History.

    This map proves that Alameda History is more than Victorian houses.

    See also: Shellmounds – What Are Shellmounds?

    Features:

    Alameda’s Ancient Live Oak Forest

    This place we call Alameda was once called “La Bolsa de Encinal”. Meaning, “the Encinal forest”. Because the peninsula was host to a verdant, “ancient”, Live Oak forest. (The forest still exists. It just looks different.)

    Many of the first accounts of the historic peninsula use rather idyllic, and paradisaic language to describe the rich pre-contact ecosystem that thrived here.

    Alameda was once referred to as a “Garden City”. This is the place where the Loganberry was supposedly born.

    Historic Shoreline

    tl;dr : Everyone wants to know where the landfill is. [There! I said it, okay?] They don’t even really care where Alameda used to be connected to Oakland. Or about the ancient whirl pool in la bahia de san leandro. But, whatever.

    Look closer, and you can see the footprints of present day buildings. That’s the landfill.

    For real though, I made this layer using pre-1900 shoreline vector data I compiled for the Bay Area region, and stitched together.

    Bay Area Historic Wetlands layers

    In Version 1, I made a kind of sloppy polygon with historical shoreline vectors, and painted it green. It was a good placeholder for the historic marshes and wetlands of the Bay Area.

    Version 2 features the finely detailed historic wetlands layer created for the Bay Area Shellmounds Maps. It features very precise cut-outs for historic creeks, channels and waterways; and features full-coverage of the Bay Area region.

    If you want some actual historical eco-data, check out the San Francisco Estuary Institute. They have some brilliant historical ecology GIS you would probably love, if you’ve read this far.

    The Alameda Shellmound Map, Version 2, is ground-breaking in its completeness and exquisite detail.

    Available Now!

    Printed in vivid color, on premium paper. Purchase through the Alameda Shellmounds Map square payment link. 10% of all proceeds from Alameda Shellmounds Map sales go to the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area.

    Get the Alameda Shellmounds Map

    [Footnote: Imelda Merlin mentioned numerous shellmounds in her Geology Master Thesis, but none of her assertions were backed up with any relevant citations. And geology is not archaeology, ethnology, or anthropology, the areas of study that normally concern themselves with Tribal Cultural Resources like shellmounds.

    Furthermore, the famous “Imelda Merlin Shellmound Map” was actually a map of Live Oak trees present in Alameda at the time Merlin wrote her thesis (in 1977).

    The “Map of Whitcher’s Survey of ‘The Encinal’ in 1853. In Alameda City Hall.”, cited on page 104 of Merlin’s thesis, has never been found by Alameda City Hall, the Alameda Free Library, or the Alameda Museum.

    Certainly this means Imelda Merlin has failed to meet the burden of proof required for institutions like Alameda Museum to take reliance upon her claims re: Whitcher’s Survey, and locations of any mounds. Yet, somehow, Merlin’s geology thesis was Alameda Museum’s sole reference regarding shellmounds. (For years Imelda Merlin’s geology thesis was viewed as the authoritative source of information about Alameda shellmounds.)]

    Decolonize History

    One of the ways Alameda Native History Project decolonizes history is by interrogating the record. This means tracking down and reading citations. Critically evaluating reports and studies for bias. And calling out poor research, and prejudiced conclusions for what they are.

    We decolonize history by updating the maps and diagrams of our past. Producing accurate, fact-based educational and reference materials to replace the biased and inaccurate educational products–which are still misinforming our schoolchildren and the greater public today.

    By providing a more nuanced and comprehensive perspective; and doing away with the old, over-copied handouts from decades past: we are able to shed the misinformed, and racist, stereotypes and quackery that typify generations which brought us things like: “kill the indian, save the man”, Jim Crow, and “Separate But Equal”.

    We vigorously challenge the cognitive dissonance of so many California Historians, asking “Where did all the Indians go?”, at a time when the entire United States had declared war on Native Americans. … Including the first Governor of California, who called for “war of extermination” against California Native Americans.

    These ideas, stereotypes, attitudes, and beliefs have managed to propagate themselves time and time again in the textbooks and lesson plans used to “educate” countless generations of Americans.

    Isn’t it time to set the record straight?

    👉🏼 Your purchase of the Alameda Shellmound Map supports our mission of decolonizing history. 🙌🏼

  • 99% of Alameda Museum’s Ohlone Artifacts Were Stolen from Native American Graves

    We’ve found a pattern of reckless and careless treatment of 100% of those stolen artifacts.

    The Alameda Museum has roughly 186 Native American Artifacts. All of those artifacts were found in connection with Native American Graves, except for 2.

    So, we can’t say ALL of the artifacts are grave goods. But we can say:

    99.93% of Alameda Museum’s Indigenous Artifacts are Stolen Burial Goods from Native American Graves all over the place we now call “Alameda.”

    Shellmounds are cemeteries, ancient structures, sacred sites, historical resources, and ancient structures built by the first inhabitants of this area, Ohlone people.

    Shellmounds are made rows of burials stacked vertically and alternately; covered with the shell-laden soil found along the San Francisco Bay Region’s shorelines.

    There were several excavations of the shellmounds of Alameda.

    Artifacts saved from excavations attended by professional and amateur anthropologists/archeologists were donated to both the Alameda Library, and the U.C. Berkeley Museum. [Some artifacts were notably kept by a City Engineer by the name of I.N. Chapman.]

    Alameda Free Library existed long before the historical Alameda Historical Society, or the Alameda Museum were ever founded.

    The Two Alameda Historical Societies

    To be clear about the two Alameda Historical Societies: one of these societies existed in the early 1900’s, and is mentioned in newspaper articles, as being interested in the early Alameda Free Library’s “Museum” in the Carnegie Library.

    The second iteration of the Alameda Historical Society started in the 1940’s, and was instrumental in moving the Museum from the basement of the Alameda Free Library, into the old Alameda High School Auto Shop in the 1980’s. And then, into the storefront of the Masonic Building, on Alameda Avenue–where it remains [“lies in state”?] today.

    Transfer of Artifacts & Records from Alameda Free Library to Alameda Museum

    All of these artifacts taken from the mounds were transferred from the Alameda Library to the Alameda Museum when the Museum moved into the old Alameda High School Auto Shop.

    Those artifacts weren’t the only things transferred to the Alameda Museum.

    At it’s inception, the Alameda Museum was designated as the Official City Repository for City Records, and the Records of the City of Alameda’s Departments, including (but not limited to,) Alameda’s Fire and Police Departments.

    I know this isn’t incredibly relevant, but it’s important to know this background information, especially when the Alameda Museum claims they don’t have stolen artifacts, or that the artifacts the museum displays aren’t Native American Grave Goods. You’ll know that 99.93% of artifacts in the Alameda Museum’s possession are Grave Goods because they were taken from the Alameda “mounds”, which are Native American Graves.

    Out of the approximately 186 Ohlone Artifacts in the possession of Alameda Museum, only two of them are unrelated to Native American Graves.

    The other 184 artifacts are directly attributed to the shellmounds of Alameda.

    What’s more: the Alameda Museum’s pattern of wanton “inattention”, and reckless disregard for these burial goods are clearly stated in the museum’s own records:

    History:

    Stone mortar and pestle found in one of Alameda’s mounds. The information on the pestle can be connected to a donation documented in the museum records: Subject: One Indian Mortar and Pestle. Date received: April 1954. Unfortunately, as a result of earlier inattention there is no further description, and as a result of later inattention during moves and minor catastrophes, it is not certain the mortar and pestles are together anymore, and the connection has been lost. Part of a collection of objects found in the largest Shellmound, also known as Sather’s Mound in Alameda, or smaller mounds. The excavations at Sather’s Mound were carried out in 1908 by Captain Clark, an amateur anthropologist. The items were donated to the Alameda Free Library, and passed on to the museum when the museum moved to a separate location. Date: April 1954 Mortar Acquired from: unknown Date: before 1991

    Condition:

    Notes: 6/30/2020 MvL: The label has suffered water damage when a pipe in the museum burst. Any accession numbering of the mortars and pestles was lost and has been redone.

    The above excerpt of an artifact’s description establishes the Alameda Museum’s pattern of careless disregard, and reckless neglect of Native American artifacts.

    Grave goods belong in graves; not museums.

    Mismanagement of Ohlone Artifacts by Alameda Museum:

    • Misidentified the tribe associated with these stolen Ohlone artifacts;
    • Mixed up mortars and pestles, (among other things) so they no longer match;
    • Lost records and identifying information about the stolen burial goods;
    • Carelessly and recklessly stored, handled, and moved Ohlone grave goods.

    This mismanagement, and noncompliance with their Service Provider Agreement with the City of Alameda; with the standards and practice of commensurate professionals and institutions engaged in the conservation and preservation of historical records and artifacts; and the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA); has resulted in damage to these priceless, irreplacable artifacts, which the Alameda Museum possesses without permission, or right of ownership.

    This evidence of unreported and unclaimed, loss/damage to Ohlone grave goods; and the established pattern of careless and reckless neglect of Ohlone artifacts…

    Should be reason enough for the Alameda Museum to concede it cannot adequately care for any of the 186 Ohlone artifacts it possesses; and return them to the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area in the most expeditious way possible.

  • What about the East Bay Ohlone of Oakland, Emeryville, Alameda?

    Someone recently responded to the article “Who are the Lisjan Ohlone? What does Chochenyo mean?” with some questions of their own.

    What about the East Bay Ohlone of Oakland, Emeryville, Alameda? [The] Muwekma are not the only Lisjan in the area.

    B. Richman

    I publicly responded:

    [B.] Richman this article seeks to educate people like you about Ohlone people in the east bay. So you stop calling them “chochenyo ohlone”, “Lisjan Ohlone”, and other misnomers.

    Alameda Native History Project

    But, I wanted to address the confusion and misinformation about Indigenous People, being perpetuated by non-indigenous people.

    So I sent this message directly to that person, which I wanted to elaborate on, and share with you. What follows is based on that message, illustrated with pictures and relevant links.

    “What about the East Bay Ohlone of Oakland, Emeryville, Alameda? [The] Muwekma are not the only Lisjan in the area.”

    Questions like this are problematic because they show how much the person asking really doesn’t know about the indigenous history of their area.

    [Everyone is aware of the hype behind the Sogorea Te Land Trust, a corporation fronted by Corrina Gould, an indigenous woman who claims to be a chairwoman of an Ohlone Tribe–a corporation called the Confederated Villages of Lisjan Nation, Incorporated. A corporation formed by Corrina Gould, and her daughters; which is less than two years old.]

    Take a look at Corrina Gould and ask yourself why the pictures of her and her “tribe” only ever show about five people.

    Oakland, CA
    Alameda, CA
    Albany, CA

    Seriously… ask yourself why the members of the other Confederated Villages never appear in the pictures.

    If you take a step back, you’ll realize that Corrina Gould’s support is not from Ohlone people.

    It’s from non-indigenous people, and native people who aren’t even Ohlone.

    The truth is: Corrina Gould appointed herself as a “chairwoman”; she doesn’t represent Ohlone people beyond herself and her immediately family.

    The Muwekma Tribe has hundreds of members.

    Coyote Hills Regional Park
    Muwekma Group Picture 001
    Muwekma Group Picture 003
    Why Federal Recognition is Important
    Muwekma Tabling at Event

    Muwekma are actually the people who called themselves “Lisjanes” (Lisjanikma), who were called the Verona Band of Alameda County. The Muwekma Tribe is actually composed of the descendants of those who survived the missions, attempted genocide and cultural erasure.

    More pictures of the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area can be found on their website: Muwekma.org

    The present-day Muwekma Ohlone Tribe is comprised of all of the known surviving American Indian lineages aboriginal to the San Francisco Bay region who trace their ancestry through the Missions Dolores, Santa Clara, and San Jose; and who were also members of the historic Federally Recognized Verona Band of Alameda County.

    Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area

    If you take away anything from this, it should be that:

    You need to know the difference between Tribe, and a corporation run by a convicted fraud whose main activities consist of fundraising for her own personal benefit, and that of her immediate family.

    In truth, Shuumi does not help Ohlone people.

    It’s a distraction created by someone who’s done this kind of stuff before.

    Take a second to stand back and see that Corrina Gould’s narrative is a washed down version of the real history of Muwekma.

    Corrina Gould is a recognized descendant of the Muwekma Tribe; and she betrayed her own tribe by weaponizing their own language and history against them.

    I thought her story was compelling too, until I did the research, and followed the facts.

    Once I learned to truth, I had to publicly withdraw my support. It was kind of embarrassing, and a mistake to support a group without doing my research first.

    But it’s a mistake I want you to avoid, too.

    This isn’t some nebulous grey zone. There are peer-reviewed articles and genetic studies establishing these facts. All you need to do is look at Muwekma’s petition to the BIA to learn way more than you ever needed to know about this subject.

    You should do your own research, and educate others.

    This confusion and misinformation is detrimental to the sovereignty of real, bona fide tribes.

    The Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area is trying regain their Federal Recognition, and restore their homeland. Find out how you can help Ohlone people (for real) by going to Muwekma.org

    You can also learn more Ohlone History, and see more pictures of the Muwekma Tribe, as well as read a selection of academic articles, interviews, and watch Chairwoman Charlene Nijmeh at TEDXBerkeley.