The Second Annual Acorn Harvest begins in August. This year, we will be gathering Acorns outside of the City of Alameda, into Alameda County, and beyond.
The reason for this is two-fold.
The first, almost all of the Oak trees in the City of Alameda are exclusively Coast Live Oak. These trees are in the Red Oak family.
The second, is that we have new partnerships and collaborations sprouting throughout the San Francisco Bay Area.
Red Oak Family? Why does this even matter?
Red Oak Trees have a two year acorn cycle. Meaning, the acorns take two years to grow and mature. In the context of the Acorn Harvest, this means no mature acorns will be available in Alameda until 2026–two years from our first harvest in 2024.
Oh… So which Oak Trees are going to have acorns, then?
This is actually great as far as the harvest goes. Because we’ll be hunting some of the most tasty acorns available. White Oak Acorns have relatively low tannic content compared to the Coast Live Oak acorns we had in abundance last year.
If you attended any of our Acorn Processing Workshops, Acorn Flour Production Days, or any of our Acorns! Culinary Series events, then you had the opportunity to taste these acorns in their various states of processing.
As an aside: One of our long-term goal is to produce blends of acorn flour for both taste and function. So being able to introduce you to these different varieties of Acorns, to harvest, taste, and cook with, is big plus in and of itself.
How do you find these White Oak trees?
We’re using a mix of GIS Analysis and In-Person Verification. Using Open Source Data we found through the California Oaks website, we were able to access several raster layers of relevant data, and then convert them into vector form we could overlay onto our own custom made maps to accurately target areas were would could find the oak trees we need.
Our next step was to find, identify, and surveil these trees in our area of interest; and to keep a running log of acorn ripeness to help time acorn harvest dates that we (hopefully) can communicate to our dedicate harvest volunteers with advance notice.
That’s all great; but how can I help?
We’re so glad you asked!
We want to find property owners/land managers who have oak trees that currently have ripening acorns.
We can describe this to you more in depth, but tl;dr the acorns need to be big, and not tiny little buds.
We want to find people who are willing to surveil the acorns in their area.
We need to start building teams, and training people to harvest acorns.
We’re looking for donations of LARGE BACKPACKS, HUGE RUCKSACKS, BACKPACKING BAGS, etc.
We’re also looking to raise the funds to properly hydrate and ensure the safety of our Harvest Teams.
In June 2025, I was invited by Courtney Cummings, a Northern Cheyenne, Arikara, and Muscogee Creek woman who serves as the lead organizer of the Richmond Powwow, to support the 15th Annual Richmond California Powwow. We met at an event I was co-organizing and became friends. Courtney asked me to help with Powwow planning, and I agreed. I set up her Instagram Powwow account, attended multiple events with her, and designed the official Powwow flyer.
This was an important year. It marked the fifteenth anniversary of the Richmond Powwow, and the event was scheduled to be held at the Richmond Civic Center in the Memorial Auditorium. That venue is a major upgrade from previous years. Courtney told me it had been difficult to keep the Powwow going in recent years because it was hard to find a space. She was proud to have secured the venue and excited for the event. I supported it because I believed in what it could represent.
The Powwow was originally described to me as a way to honor local Native history. My first flyer concept was designed around the Santa Fe Indian Village in Richmond, a historic shoreline community where Native families lived in converted boxcars. That history is rarely acknowledged, and I wanted to center it. When I showed Courtney the design, she said the boxcars looked too “sad” and asked for something more cheerful. She said she wanted a “Native flower design,” like the floral beadwork we often see, with a style similar to traditional Mexican flower motifs. I revised the flyer based on that feedback and created a second version, which became the final one.
Courtney also offered me the $150 Powwow Planning stipend, and I told her to use it for the Powwow instead. She said it should go toward sponsoring a special, so I chose a Sneakup Special. I was not doing this for compensation. I knew there was a good chance I would be doing more than just donating graphic design services. I would probably also end up spending my own money, and possibly some of ANHP’s money as well. I believed in the purpose of the event and showed up in good faith.
I even took time off work to help Courtney move out of an unsafe space. That wasn’t part of any agreement. I did it because I thought we had a friendship and a shared commitment to the community. That makes what happened next harder to excuse.
Even though this was the fifteenth anniversary of the Richmond Powwow, and it was being held at the Richmond Civic Center, Courtney had no serious plan to include Muwekma. What she offered instead was a wishy-washy, noncommittal idea about maybe having them do a tule boat demonstration or giving them a table. No one had asked for that. It was tokenism. There was no plan to honor them, no invitation to speak, and no effort to recognize their authority or presence on the land where the event was taking place.
Richmond, Huchiun-Aguasto, is Muwekma Territory. It has been for over 10,000 years. Not including Muwekma is more than an oversight. It is an act of erasure. It disrespects the real, traceable roots of the Tribe and the 600-plus enrolled Muwekma people who descend from this place.
Courtney also asked me to speak at a youth education event hosted by the Point Molate Alliance on July 1. The official invitation was sent on June 18, 2025, by Pam Stello, Co-Chair of the Point Molate Alliance, which is a project of the Blue Frontier Campaign. I accepted the invitation on June 24. Pam acknowledged my acceptance and said she would follow up with additional program details, but she did not send those details until June 29, less than 48 hours before the event.
The session was initially presented to me as an opportunity to speak about the local Native history of Huchiun-Aguasto, the Point Molate shoreline, and Ohlone history more broadly. I assumed this was the kind of Native history and Ohlone history they wanted, because it should have been obvious that I advocate for the actual Ohlone Tribe. Courtney knew this. We had already had several conversations about the Sogorea Te’ Land Trust, Corrina Gould, and the harm they have caused. I expected that my role would be to speak about the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area, the importance of tribal recognition, and the protection of sacred sites and tribal cultural resources.
But when Pam finally sent the program on June 29, it was the first time I saw that the session was titled “Ohlone History and Point Molate Hopes,” and that Courtney was listed as the Point Molate representative for the Confederated Villages of the Lisjan. I was never told any of this. Courtney never disclosed that she would be acting as an agent for the Confederated Villages of the Lisjan Nation, Inc. or Sogorea Te’ Land Trust. I use the word “agent” deliberately here because she was doing business on their behalf, representing them publicly, and promoting their agenda.
This was not a misunderstanding. It was a bait and switch. I was invited under one set of expectations, then set up to co-present with someone representing a fraudulent group that I had never agreed to support. Courtney had a duty to disclose that she would be representing the Confederated Villages of the Lisjan at this event. She did not. She knew who I was, what I stand for, and what the Alameda Native History Project represents. We had spoken directly about Sogorea Te’ Land Trust and Corrina Gould. She knew how important it was that Muwekma be acknowledged and respected. But instead of being honest, she withheld the truth and let me walk into a situation that would have compromised my integrity and betrayed the very Tribe I advocate for.
CVLN is not a tribe. It is a nonprofit organization created in 2018. It has no federal or state recognition, no tribal governance, no enrollment, no treaty history, and no documented continuity. The Muwekma Ohlone Tribe of the San Francisco Bay Area is the only federally recognized tribal successor to the Verona Band. Muwekma has a documented line of tribal governance and a legal and ancestral connection to Point Molate and the broader Huchiun-Aguasto area.
The Confederated Villages of the Lisjan Nation, Inc. (formerly, “Confederated Villages of the Lisjan, Inc.”) and the Sogorea Te’ Land Trust have been condemned by Muwekma in a public statement titled “Corina Gould’s Wide-Ranging Identity Fraud, the Sogorea Te’ Land Trust, and the So-Called ‘Lisjan Nation.‘” These two entities, along with their founder Corina Gould, have used nonprofit frameworks and cultural tokenism to erase Muwekma’s presence and position themselves as gatekeepers to land and visibility in the Bay Area.
Courtney never responded to the email. When I followed up by text, she laughed.
That moment did not hurt my feelings. It exposed everything. It showed she knew exactly what she was doing and that she did not care about accountability, respect, or the harm she was causing. She left the conversation completely and became singularly focused on getting the Powwow flyer. This was not just a lapse or miscommunication. It was intentional avoidance.
After I formally withdrew from the Point Molate event, cited the erasure of Muwekma, and sent the Tribe’s official statement, Courtney never once engaged with the core issues. She did not follow up about the statement, did not acknowledge my withdrawal, and made no effort to address the harm she helped facilitate. Her silence made it clear that she had no interest in truth, accountability, or sovereignty. She was only concerned with getting the Powwow flyer in hand, regardless of the serious concerns I had raised or the betrayal involved.
So I gave her the flyer, exactly as she requested. I added “HONORING MUWEKMA” on purpose, because it was clear she never intended to. That flyer was delivered without compensation, under a limited-use license, and in full alignment with the values of the Alameda Native History Project.
This is not about personal drama. This is about sovereignty. This is about refusing to participate in the erasure of the only Ohlone Tribe with federal recognition, historical continuity, and legal standing in the territory where this Powwow took place.
If you are unfamiliar with the details or want to understand the full context, read:
On June 14, 2024, Gabriel Duncan, founder of the Alameda Native History Project, delivered a speech at the Alameda No Kings Rally that challenged white progressives’ role in Gatekeeping, and Kingmaking.
But if we think “No Kings” only means no Trump, we’re missing something deeper. Kings don’t always wear crowns. Sometimes they wear progressive credentials. Sometimes they come wrapped in good intentions. Sometimes they’re lifted up—not because they earned it, but because people would rather believe a lie than sit with discomfort.
In a pointed speech, Gabriel Duncan made the difference between performative allies, and Accomplices clear:
You say you want to be allies. But performative allies want credit. Accomplices show up when it’s risky, when no one’s watching.
If you need to be thanked or centered or safe, you’re not in solidarity. You’re just performing.
He went on to draw the distinction between white allies who have the privilege to join the struggle, and BIPOC people who are forced to live it every day:
You weren’t born into this fight, but you can choose to join it. Not to be centered—but to be useful.
And then he went on to introduce the performance of a song called “Ain’t Nobody Gon’ Turn Us ‘Round”: a 1964 Civil Rights Era, Black Spiritual and Protest Song, written and sung by Black People in jails and churches, while Black People were facing police brutality, high pressure water hoses, police dogs, and police brutality, just for a crumb–for human rights.
This song was performed by “Paul Andrews [an old white man] and the Democracy Out Loud Band [a group of white singers enlisted days before the event]”, who would be singing this song at an even where no black voices were heard.
That was incorrect, Nika Kura, who sang in the beginning of the program, identifies as Black. And–after I had called out the organizers and Paul Andrews–a black mother and educator, named Katherine Castro (who you can hear saying “I’m trying!” in the recording), took the stage and spoke, and counted how many black people were even present in the audience.
We’re proud to have made this space for black voices–because it was the right thing to do. And we hope that this moment becomes a teachable moment for the organizers of this event, and our allies.
A Note About Paul Andrews, The Old White Man Who Grossly Appropriated A Black Civil Rights Song About Segregation:
We’re deeply disappointed that Paul Andrews thought it was appropriate to sing a Black Spiritual even though he is not black, and the song is about segregation. We’re even more disappointed that Paul Andrews attempted to defend his choice–and even go so far as to try and claim “Ain’t Nobody Gon’ Turn Us ‘Round” was not a Black Song; even though he himself admitted the song was created by Black People. It’s 2025, and this type of misappropriation of BIPOC identity, culture, and struggle is not not welcome in these spaces anymore.
We plan to interview the main organizer of this rally, Tina Davis, a volunteer with Indivisible. So stay tuned for that. We’ll also be releasing our interview with Mary Claire, of All Rise Alameda, soon.
If “No Kings” means anything, it has to mean the end of white progressives deciding who gets heard and who gets erased.
For the record: between 3,000 and 4,700 people were in attendance at the Alameda No Kings Rally on June 14, 2025.
This is the complete speech:
Text of the speech:
NO KINGS – 3-Minute Rally Speech (Condensed Version) “How the Pressure Is Working” Gabriel Duncan
We came here today because we know what’s wrong. Because we see injustice. Because we feel the weight of it. No one should have the power to strip rights, silence truth, or rule unchecked.
That’s why we say: No Kings.
But if we think “No Kings” only means no Trump, we’re missing something deeper.
Kings don’t always wear crowns. Sometimes they wear progressive credentials. Sometimes they come wrapped in good intentions. Sometimes they’re lifted up not because they earned it, but because people would rather believe a lie than sit with discomfort.
That’s not justice. That’s curation. That’s not solidarity. That’s theater.
Real change comes from those who risk something. And lately, more people are risking more breaking ranks, refusing comfort. That’s how we know: the pressure is working.
For too long, white progressives have been kingmakers. Choosing voices that made them feel good. Even when those voices weren’t real. That wasn’t solidarity. That was projection. That was control.
Crowning someone because they’re convenient is how white supremacy adapts. It cloaks itself in “progress,” selects leaders who keep critique shallow and power safe.
The danger of performative allyship isn’t just that it’s fake it’s that it props up lies that do real harm. Harm to truth. Harm to movements. Harm to us.
If “No Kings” means anything, it has to mean the end of white progressives deciding who gets heard and who gets erased.
You say you want to be allies. But performative allies want credit. Accomplices show up when it’s risky, when no one’s watching.
If you need to be thanked or centered or safe, you’re not in solidarity. You’re just performing. You can’t say “No Kings” while defending the figureheads you crowned just because they made you feel progressive.
Being an accomplice means you put yourself in the way of ICE, of cops, of injustice and say: “You’ll have to go through me first.”
That’s what pressure looks like. Truth without applause. Risk without reward.
You weren’t born into this fight, but you can choose to join it. Not to be centered—but to be useful.
So when we scream NO KINGS don’t just cheer. Don’t just post. Live it.
Say it with your whole chest. Say it in every space where your voice still carries more weight than ours.
No Kings. No Gatekeepers. No Masters. TOTAL LIBERATION.
Effective June 5, 2025, the Alameda Native History Project has permanently ended its affiliation with Bay Area MakerFarm. This decision follows MakerFarm’s failure to perform in response to an unresolved food safety hazard posed by its walk-in refrigerator unit that remains structurally unsound, unsanitary, and incapable of maintaining safe refrigeration temperatures.
The Alameda Native History Project initially suspended operations at MakerFarm on May 24, 2025, after repeated warnings were ignored. The organization issued a formal Notice of Suspension of Activities & Intent to Disclose, citing extensive documentation, including:
Over 400 pounds of rotting produce removed by ANHP from the walk-in on April 16
Temperature readings of 43°F–46°F, well above the USDA safe threshold of 40°F
Spoilage of fresh rabbit meat intended for a public event due to inadequate refrigeration
Manufacturer correspondence confirming the existing A/C unit was under-powered for the space
Despite these warnings and a clearly stated remediation deadline, Bay Area MakerFarm took no effective action. Instead of correcting the hazard, Bay Area MakerFarm minimized the danger,
re-framed documented concerns as interpersonal issues, and failed to uphold even basic standards of care or responsibility.
On June 5, 2025, ANHP issued a final Notice of Permanent Suspension of Activities and Withdrawal of Free Association. This notice cited failure to perform, breach of duty, disregard for public health, and misalignment with the standards of care required for Indigenous cultural work. MakerFarm was instructed to remove all references to ANHP from its website, signage, publications, and promotional materials.
This withdrawal is not about conflict. It is about care.
Food sovereignty requires food safety. Cultural work requires clean, safe environments. Community spaces must be accountable to the people they serve. We cannot, and will not, associate our work with conditions that put our community at risk.
To be clear: the negligence and unsanitary conditions at Bay Area MakerFarm have had no impact on the success of our programming. The Alameda Native History Project remains fully self-sustaining and independently organized. The ACORNS! Project Arc continues without interruption, and upcoming events will proceed as planned.
Our work is sacred and community-oriented. It cannot be shaken by a white-led organization that shrouds itself in the language of inclusion but, in practice, cultivates a hostile environment for BIPOC, non-binary individuals, and anyone whose dissent demands accountability.
Bay Area MakerFarm is structured around process idealism, not functional governance.
For BIPOC individuals entering these spaces, the dissonance is immediate. You’re told you’re welcome, but the minute you name harm or point out gaps in care, the tone shifts. Suddenly, you’re “too intense,” or you’re “not being collaborative.” Your lived experience is pathologized. Your insistence on accountability is framed as aggression. If you’ve ever felt isolated, second-guessed yourself, or wondered if you were overreacting, you weren’t. You were being gaslit by a structure that protects comfort over truth and feelings over safety.
What happened at Bay Area MakerFarm is not an anomaly. It is the default operating mode of too many white-led, self-proclaimed progressive collectives.
These are spaces built on white fragility, trustafarian politics, and a curated aesthetic of care that masks deep resistance to real accountability. They specialize in optics over outcomes, claiming to be inclusive while maintaining structures that ensure power remains concentrated and critique is punished.
These environments weaponize process to maintain the status quo, and perform emotional labor not to address harm, but to center themselves in it.
The ‘confusion’ and ‘hurt’ expressed by leadership are not genuine steps toward repair. They are tactics of delay and deflection. The endless talking circles, the forced emotional exposure, the vague invitations to ‘build understanding’—these are not accountability mechanisms. They are containment strategies designed to absorb dissent and protect those in power.
If you’ve been in these spaces and felt like you were being handled instead of heard, you were.
If you’ve been encouraged to participate in healing rituals while the root causes of harm were never addressed, you weren’t imagining things. This is the blueprint. And Bay Area MakerFarm followed it exactly, until we walked away.
When valid safety concerns, grounded in health codes, USDA guidelines, and food safety best practices, were dismissed as a “fancy A/C purchase,” it was an intentional act of gaslighting.
This re-framing didn’t just diminish the issue. It recast an urgent health risk as a personal whim, discrediting the messenger to avoid responsibility.
It sent a clear message: evidence doesn’t matter, what matters is preserving comfort and control.
This is not about collaboration; it’s about conformity to a structure that protects those in power while discrediting those who speak up. Your expertise, your warnings, your truth all become irrelevant the moment they challenge the dominant narrative.
When someone ripped the locking bracket off the door of a shared space with zero consequence, in spite of the fact we were all given the code to the dial lock, it signaled that even basic safety and boundary-setting could be violated without accountability, if you were the right person.
And when that same someone ripped carefully cultivated plants out of the soil, offering a hollow apology deflected by ‘I thought you said…,’ it underscored not only a disregard for labor, presence, and contributions, but a deeper refusal to recognize the agency and personhood of BIPOC participants.
This was not carelessness. It was a pattern: a way of diminishing harm by rewriting intent, shifting blame, and robbing people of the right to define what has happened to them.
The lack of regard, care, concern, or consequences, reinforced a message many BIPOC folks know too well: you’re only welcome for as long as we allow it. It’s not your consent, it’s ours. The moment you assert boundaries, ask for accountability, or disrupt the illusion of harmony, you become the problem.
Bay Area MakerFarm’s consent-based model is ideologically rigid and operationally brittle, built to neutralize dissent rather than incorporate accountability.
Its core principle, that a ‘No’ is an invitation to leave, is framed as a way to prevent obstruction and support momentum. But in practice, it punishes those who raise necessary concerns, especially BIPOC individuals who name harm.
The message becomes clear: if you cannot quietly consent to a flawed process, you must remove yourself. This doesn’t build consensus, it enforces silence. And it enables those in power to preserve their comfort while pushing out anyone who challenges it.
The organization’s reliance on free association, siloed committees, and performative inclusivity enables a culture where responsibility is diffused and no one is held accountable.
Committees operate without real oversight. Urgent concerns are reframed as procedural obstacles. Individuals with lived experience are pushed out when they raise inconvenient truths, especially when those truths reveal deep cultural or structural harm.
For BIPOC participants, this pattern is not a glitch, it’s a feature. Your concerns become disruptions. Your calls for care are labeled conflict. And your presence becomes untenable the moment it asks too much of a system designed to protect white comfort.
To white participants and leaders in these spaces: you may believe you are building collective power, but what you’re often building is a structure of exclusion.
When your systems require emotional neutrality to be heard, and protect the process more than the people, you’re not creating platforms of care, you are reinforcing structures which cause very real and tangible harm.
When you equate disagreement with obstruction, and disagreement from BIPOC people as hostility, what you’re really doing is preserving a hierarchy where safety and belonging are only available to those who never question the rules.
The result is a space that not only fails to uphold health and safety, but also betrays the very values it claims to uphold.
We believe in collaboration without compromise.
As stated in our Working With Us guidelines: “We do not believe in compromising our values to maintain partnerships. We believe that true collaboration is only possible with honesty, transparency, and accountability.“
Our partnerships are grounded in mutual respect, transparency, and accountability. We expect spaces that align with our values to center care, uphold safety, and take responsibility, not just in language, but in practice.
Our approach is rooted in Indigenous principles. We bring our full selves to the work, as Two-Spirit, BIPOC, and community-led organizers committed to food sovereignty, safety, and collective care.
We do not stay silent when harm is ignored, minimized, or redirected through performative process.
When we walk away, it is not to create drama. It is because staying would require us to betray the very responsibilities we carry.
We did not leave Bay Area MakerFarm because of a disagreement. We left because they refused to take accountability. And we will not allow their dysfunction to jeopardize the sacredness of our work.
The Alameda Native History Project has moved on.
To every BIPOC person who’s been silenced, gaslit, or pushed out of a space that claimed to value you… this is your reminder: you’re not imagining things.
You deserve spaces that meet you with integrity, not containment. And you don’t owe your labor to collectives that can’t hold themselves accountable.
For centuries, Native American communities have faced brutal suppression of our cultural heritage and spiritual practices. Our ancestors’ lands were stolen, our traditions criminalized, and our people forcibly relocated to urban areas.
Today, 87% of Native Americans live in cities, disconnected from our ancestral territories and the natural resources essential for our cultural survival.
Over 18,000 Native and Indigenous People reside In the San Francisco Bay Area – the majority of whom are from tribes in other areas; many of whom are the descendants of families relocated by the Indian Relocation Act of 1956.
The historical traumas persist as the ongoing persecution of “Indianness”:
Urban displacement separates us from nature, making it hard to maintain cultural heritage and traditional practices rooted in the land.
Privatization of land forces us to trespass or face fines for practicing our cultural ceremonies. (Even on Tribal Land, we are still harassed.)
Our cultural practices don’t end at reservation borders – we still need sage, berries, acorns, pine nuts, and traditional foods & materials for ceremonies, healing, and cultural survival.
Native American People are still criminalized for gathering the materials we need to practice our cultural and religious traditions.
But there is hope.
We have been blessed with an opportunity to reclaim our cultural heritage and decolonize a sacred space in the Bay Area.
The Indigenous Land Lab will be a thriving hub for:
Traditional medicine and herb garden
Restoration nursery for environmental healing
Safe sanctuary for Indigenous people and allies to decompress, honor the earth, and collaborate in decolonization efforts
We need your support to make this vision a reality.
Our immediate goals require funding for:
Seeds for our traditional medicine and herb garden
Fencing to secure our land, and protect this sacred space from damage by invasive wild boars
Greenhouse construction for year-round growth and education
Decolonization efforts to reclaim our cultural heritage and restore balance to the land
Every donation brings us closer to decolonizing our homeland and revitalizing our cultural practices.
Your contribution helps cultivate reciprocity – a mutual exchange of respect, resources, and restoration.
Reclaiming cultural heritage and sacred spaces is crucial for our survival. Collaborating to restore this land and realize our connection to it is how we move forward.
Decolonization starts with a single step – yours.
Donate today to support the Indigenous Land Lab and join a movement reclaiming heritage, land, and justice.
Be our Top Fundraiser and Win a Free *Premium* Indigenous Bay Hoodie!
Join our fundraising team and get rewarded for your hard work!
The top fundraiser will receive a Premium Indigenous Bay Hoodie as a thank you gift for helping us reach our fundraising goals through peer-to-peer fundraising!
Wear your land acknowledgment with pride knowing you’ve personally contributed to the decolonization of Indigenous Land.
Find out more by signing up using the “Fundraise” button on our Decolonize This Place! campaign page:
Shalom Bruhn opening remarks at the rally, on a cold windy, Monday afternoon in Alameda.
People gathered outside of Alameda City Hall on Monday, February 3, 2025, to show their unified resolve for Alameda’s Sanctuary City status.
I was honored to be among such speakers as Shalom Bruhn, Amos White, Rev. Michael Yoshi, Dr. Cindy Ackert, Kimi Sugioka, Rev. Vathanak Heang, Hiro Guida, and more people spoke during the open mic session.
Kimi Sugioka (left) holds a sign reading “Alameda Stands United Against Hate”; Amos White (right) speaking at the rally.
These are the remarks I delivered.
Remarks at the Alameda Display of Unity Rally
On February 3, 2025, in Alameda, California
“Hello, my name is Gabriel Duncan. I’m the founder of the Alameda Native History Project. I’m a mix of Paiute, and Mexican (Chichimeca). I’m Gay, Two-Spirit, and Queer. I’m also disabled; I have AIDS. I’m a mix of many things that are being targeted for deportation, defunding, and disenfranchisement.
“That’s why I want to talk about the fear of belonging to a group of people being targeted. Of the fear I felt when I first came out (just like now.) And how I did it, even though I was afraid.
“I came out not just for myself. But for my LGBTQ and Two-Spirit cousins who could not do it themselves–to stand up and advocate for the other members of my community who were isolated, targeted, and attacked because of who they are–to defend our humanity, and demand to be treated with dignity and respect. I stand up because my conviction and belief in justice and equality give me strength.
“Even now, even though I am afraid, I cannot let people I called my friends, my neighbors, even my family–I cannot let them go on terrorizing the innocent people who came here to escape violence and persecution, who came here looking for a better life, for a brighter future. We cannot allow them to continue demonizing our differences, chasing down our most vulnerable, and subjecting them to more violence, and more persecution.
“Because, the reality is, our diversity gives us strength.
“This is why sanctuaries exist. Sanctuaries exist to give refuge, to provide safety. To allow people to live, and thrive with liberty, justice and dignity. The pursuit of happiness, living in freedom. This is the promise of the American Dream. America is supposed to be a sanctuary.
“As we stand here today, to let out our cry for dignity, inclusivity, and respect, we do this as a diverse community of people who still believe that the American Dream is just as much ours as everyone else’s.
“I stand before you here to re-affirm my commitment to support, advocate, and fight for the inclusion of the people who built this city, this state, and this nation–and who this place was built upon!
“People who provide us with the food we eat, the care for our children, for our sick, and elderly, who do the jobs no one else will do–I will advocate for them because they belong here more than many of us.
“If you believe in liberty, equality, and justice; then it is your duty, too. It is your duty to create and protect a sanctuary as a group, as a collective, that we can share with our friends and neighbors–and even strangers–when they need it most.
“Let us make sure that Alameda is a Sanctuary City – NOW AND FOREVER!”
Special thanks to EB-FLOW (East Bay Fierce Loving Organized Women) for organizing this rally.
This is EB-FLOW organizer Shalom Bruhn reading her poem at the rally.
Update: After receiving the signed petition from Monday’s rally, during the Alameda City Council Meeting on Tuesday, the City of Alameda released the following statement on Wednesday.
“The City remains committed to the values of dignity, inclusivity, and respect for all individuals, regardless of ethnic or national origin, gender, race, religious affiliation, sexual orientation, or immigration status. We are committed to upholding the Constitution and ensuring a safe community for everyone, consistent with the City’s Sanctuary City policy.”
February 5, 2025 “Statement from the City of Alameda”
Native History Project Condemns White Supremacy and Threats to Native American Sovereignty
Alameda, California – Today, the Alameda Native History Project issued a strong statement affirming its values and condemning racist ideologies.
“Alameda Native History Project vehemently condemns white supremacy, racism, xenophobia, and fascist ideologies. We abhor Trump-era policies destroying civil rights gains, threatening Native American sovereignty, and deporting indigenous peoples from their ancestral lands. Our project stands unwaveringly against bigotry, discrimination, and hate – affirming equality, justice, and dignity for all.”
Contact:
Gabriel Duncan info@nativehistoryproject.org (510) 747-8423
So, I know the whole “plant thing” might not make sense to people who want to build bigger levees, and sea walls.
I’m trying to say we can’t manage with walls alone. Walls cost tons of money. We don’t know how tall to build them, or how fast. The earth is continuing to warm at a runaway pace. And we need to plan accordingly.
Currently, much of our shores are covered with riprap and sand that has been trucked into, and poured upon the surface of the shore. Sometimes the riprap is covered with a steel mesh, and cabled and bolted into place. But it doesn’t matter. Every time we get big waves, increasingly bigger pieces are being taken away from the shore.
Consider the fact that the pre-1900 [“alameda”] peninsula was encapsulated by lush, verdant, thriving wetlands; and that the south shores and bay farm coast were rich in oyster and clam beds.
Just like the rest of the earth, the Bay Area is a living, breathing, place. Our environmental systems sustain life in and around the bay. And floodwaters are supposed to be a regenerative force in the lifecycle of our ancient coastal blue carbon ecosystem.
The roots of fast growing estuarine and aquatic plants (like eelgrass, tule, etc.) stabilize shorelines by trapping sediment in their root systems and creating a buffer zone that absorbs floodwaters. The rising tide and sediment bury plants and form nutrient-rich (low-oxygen) soil which builds up the land mass, and gives rise to new fast-growing growing plants. The interring of carbon captured by the plants, which are buried in a low-oxygen environment, is the main mechanism behind what is now being referred to as coastal blue carbon habitats.
Restoring our ecosystems is the best chance we have to survive as a species. We need to learn how to terraform our own planet before we attempt to colonize another.
When it comes to foraging for acorns, we have a firm policy: we don’t accept those collected from the ground.
Here’s why:
Acorns can mold incredibly quickly once picked up; especially when stored improperly in bags, boxes, or environments with little to no air circulation. It is vitally important to prevent the spread of mold and mildew to other acorns in storage.
Moldy acorns are not just unappealing; they can pose serious health risks, like hantavirus.Hantavirus is a serious disease transmitted through contact with rodent droppings or urine. Ground-collected acorns are often more likely to be contaminated by mold and pathogens, which we want to avoid.
It’s important to note that 20% or less of the acorns gathered from the ground are fit enough for storage and consumption. Since we emphasize sourcing acorns for food, we have to apply a strict standard: if it’s not something you would personally eat, we don’t want it either.
By upholding these guidelines, we prioritize health and ensure that the acorns we collect and use are safe and of the best quality.
Let’s keep our foraging practices safe and sustainable!
Alameda Native History Project is proud to partner with our awesome and enthusiastic and diverse community for Alameda’s First Annual Acorn Harvest!
Acorn season is upon us!
The streets are filled with the sounds of foraging. The crunching and munching of squirrels chewing on acorns forms a surprisingly backtrack on a slow weekend morning.
This is Alameda’s present-day urban forest.
You may have never noticed it before. But Alameda is full of oak trees. It’s during acorn season that we’re reminded la bolsa de Encinal is still here.
Acorns have not been readily available as a food source for over 100 years.
The Alameda Native History Project seeks to reopen the local indigenous foodways of Alameda and the East Bay.
They will stay in the granary over winter. And we will process the acorns in spring.
Some of the Acorn Flour and Acorn Meal which we will produce will be used as the featured ingredient of our culinary series. Some will be offered to local Native American Organizations and Tribes. A limited amount Acorn Flour and Acorn Meal will be offered to the public for fundraising.
Harvest teams are forming now. You’re invited!
We’re excited to share this opportunity with you to be a part of our Acorn Harvest Team. Whether you’re looking for a fun outdoor activity, a chance to connect with nature, or a way to help revitalize a food pathway which hasn’t been readily available for over 100 years, we welcome you to join our team!
Here’s what we’re doing:
Sorting Acorns: Help us sort acorns by size and quality.
Harvesting Acorns: Collect acorns that have fallen from trees.
Scooping and Bagging Acorns: Help us scoop and bag acorns for storage.
Packing Acorn Granaries: Assist us in packing acorns into granaries for long-term storage.
We welcome volunteers of all abilities and will work to accommodate your needs. Whether you prefer to work from a seated position or are able to assist with physical tasks, we have opportunities for everyone to contribute.
Join us for a fun and rewarding experience that will connect you with your community and the natural world. Let us know which tasks you’re available for and any accommodations you may need.
Support the First Annual Acorn Harvest by donating to the Alameda Native History Project.
By supporting this project, you are helping to revive a forgotten food source and reconnect with the rich cultural heritage of our region. Together, we can reclaim the acorn as a symbol of community, sustainability, and cultural resilience. Join us in this effort to rebuild our local indigenous foodways and create a more equitable and sustainable food system for all.
Your contribution will directly support our acorn harvest and processing efforts, as well as our culinary series and partnerships with local Native American organizations, community organizations, and tribes. We are grateful for your trust in our work and your commitment to our community.
