Shared by The Sogorea Te Land Trust: an urban Indigenous women-led community organization that facilitates the return of Chochenyo and Karkin Ohlone lands in the San Francisco Bay Area to Indigenous stewardship.


“All of these things that the United States tries to do to squash us have not worked. It’s failed. We still know who we are. We still know how to pray in our own way. We still know where our sacred sites are. And we know how to bring back our language.”
—Corrina Gould, Chochenyo/Karkin Ohlone

Activist Corrina Gould, (Chochenyo/Karkin Ohlone) addresses a crowd.

Surviving through two centuries of persecution and genocidal policies during the Spanish, Mexican and American eras, Ohlone people continue to inhabit their ancestral homeland, the San Francisco Bay and Monterey Bay areas.

From the establishment of Mission San Carlos in 1769 up to the present day, the Ohlone have been denied the right to exist as Indigenous peoples. Officially “unrecognized” by the US federal government as tribes, contemporary Ohlone communities have no reservations or protected land bases and receive none of the rights, benefits, compensations or protections afforded to Indian tribes under US laws.

Despite concerted efforts to erase Ohlone history and identity, Ohlone people continue to form a diverse and vibrant constellation of tribes and families. Utilizing a wide array of survival strategies to navigate a gravely altered 21st century world, Ohlone people continue to carry forward and revitalize cultural practices and uphold their responsibilities to protect and care for their ancestral lands.

Loosely united by related languages and histories, the Ohlone (also known as Costanoan) people have never constituted a single political or cultural entity. Organized in roughly 50 documented villages and extended family groups before European invasion, Ohlone peoples spoke at least 8 distinct language dialects. Today’s diverse spectrum of culturally and politically active Ohlone families and tribes is reflective of this historic pattern.

Revitalizing language and culture

“My mother believed, and I too believe, that when the ceremonies, songs and dances stop, so does the Earth.”
—Ann Marie Sayers, Mutsun Ohlone

After the reign of terror inflicted by Franciscan Missionaries who sought to convert all Indians into Catholic subjects of Spain, survivors faced extermination policies of the United States that aimed to eliminate California Indians entirely. In a local climate of virulent racial discrimination and state-sponsored vigilante killings, most Ohlone families survived by isolating themselves and concealing their identities. Cultural and spiritual traditions were forced into dormancy or secrecy, and much knowledge perished with the passing of generations.

Rumsien Ohlone basketmaker Linda Yamane

Today, many Ohlone descendants devote themselves to the revitalization and continuation of the rich cultural and spiritual traditions of their ancestors. For decades, tribal members have spearheaded numerous initiatives to breathe new life into Ohlone languages as well as songs, dances, ceremonies, basketry traditions, tools, stories and games.

Long-term programs and apprenticeships are underway to revive three different Ohlone dialects, Chochenyo, Mutsun, and Rumsen,as spoken languages. Dedicated linguists are assisting tribal members in reintroducing the languages in households and tribal meetings, and curricula are being designed to accelerate learning. Comprehensive dictionaries have been compiled based on field notes, interviews and recordings produced by early ethnographers such as J.P. Harrington.

Drawing from wax cylinder recordings, ethnographic notes, as well as intact family traditions, Ohlone cultural practitioners have brought many once-dormant songs and dance forms of their ancestors back to their communities. Multiple Ohlone dance societies such as Amah-Ka-Tura and the Humaya Dancers are active today, in the ceremonial life of the tribes as well as in public gatherings and festivals. Some Ohlone singers write contemporary songs in Ohlone languages, often in keeping with traditional style.

Ohlone and other Native American ceremonies are held frequently in the Gabilan Mountains near Hollister, on tribal land maintained by the Indian Canyon Band of Costanoan Mutsun Indians. A protected refuge and ceremonial ground, Indian Canyon contains a traditional dance arbor and sweat lodges, including a traditional Mutsun underground lodge. Other Ohlone groups have revived ceremonies such as the Bear Dance, a 10-day ceremony the Costanoan Rumsen Carmel Tribe has held annually since 1994.

Young dancers in traditional regalia (photo: Costanoan Rumsen Carmel Tribe)

The lack of access to traditional ceremonial grounds and to land appropriate for multi-day ceremonies is a troubling challenge faced by Ohlone people today, since the tribes remain landless (with the exception of Indian Canyon). A cornerstone of the Sogorea Te Land Trust’s vision is the construction of a traditional Ohlone roundhouse in the East Bay area that would welcome all Ohlone families and bands, acting as a space for healing and spiritual renewal.

Federal Recognition: A modern strategy of extinguishing tribes

“The federal government does not recognize us as human beings. We have to fight those who see us as a special interest group but not as American Indians who have homelands here.”
-Corrina Gould

Although there are thousands of Ohlone people alive today, not a single Ohlone person or tribe is acknowledged by the federal government as being Indian. Thus, along with dozens of other unrecognized tribes in California, the Ohlone are denied virtually all of the rights, services, and protections established through treaties and centuries of federal Indian law. That means Ohlone people have no reservations or land base, no access to Indian Health Care services, no access to federal scholarships or housing grants, and grossly inadequate protections of cultural, burial, and sacred sites.

Ohlone languages and approximate geographical boundaries.

Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) policy requires unrecognized tribes to undergo an exhaustive and very costly “Federal Acknowledgment Process” by submitting thousands of pages of evidence to prove who they are, at the expense of the tribe. The BIA criteria for recognition requires tribes to demonstrate an unbroken continuity of leadership, tribal culture and organization— woefully ironic, since historically, US Indian policy deliberately sought to dismantle that very continuity. The requirements of this process are so onerous that achieving recognition is virtually impossible, especially for tribes whose ancestors were enslaved in the California Missions. Of eight petitions submitted by Ohlone tribes since 1988, not one has led to approval.

Even worse, the process pits groups of tribal descendants against each other by its very design, creating an environment of competition for the mantle of legitimacy. The BIA recognition standards require a level of centralized political organization that has never historically existed within Ohlone communities, denying the historical and present day complexities of Ohlone tribal structure. As a result of these foreign definitions of tribal territories and governing structures, groups applying for recognition are compelled to demonstrate that they are the “only real tribe,” which tragically results in a denial of the identity of tribal relatives in adjoining groups.

Faced with the colossal failure of a federal recognition apparatus which only further disenfranchises tribes, Ohlone community leaders have used varying strategies to take matters into their own hands. The Muwekma Ohlone Tribe sued the BIA in 1999 over the recognition process and continues to fight for recognition. Unique stewardship agreements have been established by the Amah Mutsun Tribal Band with the National Park Service, Bureau of Land Management, and other entities that allow utilization and management of portions of their homeland for certain purposes. And most recently, the model of a tribal land trust has emerged as a means of reclaiming ancestral lands utilizing private capital.

“For me, it does not matter whether or not this government that was imposed on us recognizes us,” Sogorea Te Land Trust founder Corrina Gould recently stated at a ceremonial gathering. “My ancestors recognize who I am, and who we are supposed to be right now. And so, this work is for them.”

Sacred Places

“It is imperative that our remaining cultural sites stay intact. The Ohlone know that all people are strengthened when our environments and sacred places are honored and protected.” 
—Charlene Sul, Rumsen Ohlone

Sacred places are integral to the cultural survival of Ohlone people, and to their ability to fulfill their responsibilities to their ancestors. They are places of ceremony, of prayer, and of connection with ancestral spirits and memory— places to be held with the utmost respect, in accordance with traditional protocols.

Tragically, the vast majority of cultural sites, burial sites, and village sites within the coastal zone of the Bay Area have been bulldozed, plundered, and paved over in a process of settler colonialism and profit-driven development that continues to this day. Those sacred places which remain are continually under threat from one form of development or another, and the law does not empower Ohlone people to preserve them or halt development projects.

Further from the city, in rural areas, some cultural sites remain largely intact. However, these sites are found on private property or within properties managed by agencies such as the East Bay Regional Parks district. Ohlone people are in most cases not permitted access to these cultural sites, and not offered a seat at the decision-making table when the fate of these sites is in question. An example of Ohlone intervention in Parks District mismanagement of one of their most sacred places, Brushy Peak, is chronicled in the 2012 film Buried Voices. In September 2016, East Bay Regional Parks District’s board of directors voted unanimously to build a 300-space parking lot over a documented Ohlone cultural site at Mission Peak in Fremont, despite the strong objections of numerous Ohlone descendants.

The Shellmound Peace Walk

“Every single time I go to a shellmound, it eats a little bit away from who I am just because I see that there’s absolutely no respect for who we are as Ohlone people or who our ancestors were or anything that happened on this land prior to America being created.” 
—Corrina Gould

Shellmounds are sacred funerary monuments of Ohlone and Coast Miwok peoples. They are considered by Ohlone people to be living cemeteries, places of prayer, veneration and connection with the ancestors. “Shellmounds are places where we laid our ancestors to rest,” Corrina Gould explains. “We actually buried them in the soil and then covered them with shell and then more soil. As the years and centuries went by, these mounds grew larger and larger. They became monuments to the people that lived here in the Bay Area.”

As settlers flooded into the San Francisco area during the Gold Rush, the leveling and desecration of shellmounds began, clearing the way for development. Noticing the rate at which the mounds were vanishing, an archeologist from UC Berkeley named Nels Nelson worked to create a map in 1909 of those which remained. His map identified 425 distinct shellmound sites ringing the San Francisco Bay. Today, only a handful of those remain in a natural state. Most lie buried beneath parking lots and buildings.

Overwhelmed by the ongoing desecration of shellmounds by developers and the striking lack of public awareness about Ohlone people and their sacred sites, Indian activists Johnella LaRose and Corrina Gould came up with a vision that became known as the Shellmound Peace Walk. With the aid of Nels Nelson’s 1909 map, they set out to pinpoint the locations of the shellmounds and create a route by which they could walk as a group to each site, to pray with their ancestors in an act of spiritual pilgrimage.

2005 Shellmound Peace Walk

In 2005, the first Shellmound Peace Walk threaded its way through the Bay Area, starting in Vallejo at Sogorea Te, proceeding south to San Jose, and then up the western shore of the Bay to San Francisco— a 280-mile journey that took three weeks to accomplish. The walkers were joined by Nipponzan Myohoji Buddhist monks from Japan and supporters from the local community and as far away as Australia, Nova Scotia and the Cape Verde Islands.

“It was an incredible journey,” Corrina Gould recounts, “trying to figure out where my ancestors were, trying to figure out how we were supposed to protect them, and trying to figure out: how do we educate the Bay Area about what’s right here underneath them?” Each day, in addition to the act of walking and praying at each site, the walk would bring many people together over food and conversation. “We talked about our inherent responsibility to do what is right on behalf of the ancestors and those to come,” Gould explains, “really feeling like we are that bridge between the past and the future.”

The Shellmound Peace Walk continued for a total of four consecutive years, each time covering new territory and visiting additional monument sites. The collective act of walking and praying with the ancestors at each location was both healing and transformative, and each year it created a larger and larger network of people who were ready to advocate and fight on behalf of the Ohlone and their ancestral places. In this way, it laid a groundwork for protective actions to come.

Direct Action to Protect the Ancestors

“We understood that we might lose our lives defending our religious rights, our culture, our people. When day break came, we faced a sea of law enforcement and weaponry.”
—Patrick Orozco, Pajaro Valley Ohlone Indian Council

Spiritual re-occupation of the Karkin Ohlone village of Sogorea Te (Glen Cove), 2011

Denied their indigenous rights, silenced by the law, and dismissed by developers and governing authorities, Ohlone people have often been forced to take matters into their own hands through outspoken community organizing and, at times, direct action. Although larger moments of controversy and confrontation are well documented, countless other stories of Ohlone people protecting their ancestral grounds are remembered only through oral tradition and family recollections, if at all.

Ohlone struggles to protect sacred places and burial grounds have often catalyzed cultural and political resurgences, at times bringing together otherwise dispersed Ohlone family groups. These struggles provide a visible illustration of present-day Ohlone resistance to colonialism, while demonstrating and affirming the strong connections that Ohlone people maintain with their ancestors and traditions.

1975 newspaper clipping from the Lee Road standoff in Watsonville, CA

In the wake of the Indian takeover of Alcatraz in the 1970s, Ohlone people joined forces with American Indian Movement activists and other Indigenous people to stand against the desecration of Ohlone burial grounds. In the little-known 1975 standoff on Lee Road in Watsonville, CA, locally known as “Wounded Lee,” dozens of Indian activists established an armed camp within a halfway-bulldozed Ohlone cemetery where a warehouse was to be built. They successfully negotiated to permanently preserve the half of the cemetery that had not yet been destroyed.

In 1977, during excavation for a Holiday Inn parking garage in San Jose, an Ohlone cemetery was unearthed, leading to protests and a protracted fight as Ohlone tribal members, American Indian Movement activists and sympathetic archaeologists intervened.

In the 1990s, Ohlone community leaders collaborated with the environmental group San Bruno Mountain Watch to achieve protection of an ancient, intact shellmound burial ground on San Bruno Mountain in South San Francisco, known as the Sipliskin Mound. After a protracted struggle with housing developer SunChase, years of community outreach, and an effective lawsuit, a settlement was reached with SunChase allowing the Trust for Public Land to purchase the shellmound property.

Morning Star Gali, Wounded Knee DeOcampo & Corrina Gould

With the victory at San Bruno Mountain behind them, Ohlone leaders, shellmound advocates and sympathetic archeologists soon began collaborating in the East Bay to address a new crisis that had emerged in 1997: hundreds of ancestors remains were being unearthed at the Emeryville Shellmound, and plans for building a giant new shopping mall had been advanced. Located on the shore of San Francisco Bay at the mouth of Temescal Creek, this ancient shellmound was once the largest of all, standing 60 feet high at over 350 feet in diameter.

Although the Emeryville site had previously been bulldozed and desecrated, countless ancestors remained interred in the soil— some intact and others gravely disturbed. The site had been occupied for 70 years by industrial facilities including a paint factory, a cannery and an insecticide plant, which leached toxic wastes into the soil. In the midst of a redevelopment boom, the City of Emeryville had received funding to clean up the property, which was deemed a contaminated brownfield. In the gruesome scene that unfolded, untold numbers of ancestors’ remains that had been saturated with toxins were disposed of via incineration at hazardous waste facilities, and many more were collected and piled in a mass grave on site.

“Emeryville broke my heart,” Ohlone community leader Corrina Gould recalls. Ohlone people, concerned archeologists and other community advocates vehemently campaigned for the preservation and restoration of the site in a manner that would honor its immense cultural significance and recognize the ancestors buried there. Siding with developers and the promise of increased tax revenues, the Emeryville City Council eventually voted for paving over the entire 19-acre site to construct the Bay Street Mall. Every “Black Friday,” the busiest shopping day of the year, the local native community holds a protest at the mall, educating shoppers and asking them to take their business elsewhere.

Although the Emeryville fight was a traumatic and painful period for Ohlone people, it was also a galvanizing experience in which many new relationships were formed between local activists and tribal members, strengthening the overall movement to protect Ohlone sacred places. Meanwhile, up in Vallejo, a campaign had been brewing since 1999 regarding the fate of Sogorea Te, a 3,500 year old Karkin Ohlone village and burial site located at Glen Cove. A Miwok elder named Wounded Knee DeOcampo was organizing with the local Native American community to halt the City of Vallejo’s plans to redevelop the grounds of Sogorea Te into a recreational public park.

Wounded Knee DeOcampo, Tuolumne Miwok elder

Corrina Gould, Johnella LaRose, and their newly formed organization Indian People Organizing for Change began collaborating with DeOcampo and supporting the ongoing effort to protect Sogorea Te. For twelve years, Native American organizers attended city council meetings, met with recreation district officials, held demonstrations and prayer walks, submitted their objections during the environmental review process for the proposed park. Dismissing the requests of the native community, the city pressed forward with their plans.

After learning that the City of Vallejo’s grading permits would finally become valid on April 14th, 2011, Gould, LaRose, DeOcampo and other community organizers realized they’d run out of options for protecting the ancestors. After consulting with elders, a decision emerged clearly: the time had come to make a stand. On the morning of April 14th, over a hundred people gathered at Sogorea Te— an elder lit a sacred fire and an altar was established. The spiritual encampment to protect Sogorea Te began, as a community of protectors stood vigil together, tending the sacred fire continuously for 109 days and nights.

“They want to desecrate the site. They say they went through the legal process and it’s been done correctly. We’re saying, no, it’s not good enough. We’re standing up for our ancestors. We’re not going to allow them to continue to do this. We’re not going to allow them to continue to unbury our ancestors and put them wherever they feel like it, in lockers, in storage places. That’s not how it’s gonna be anymore.” 
—Corrina Gould, Chochenyo Ohlone

Traditional dancers at Sogorea Te

The village of Sogorea Te was, in a sense, reawakened. Thousands of people visited the spiritual encampment to pay their respects, to bring supplies and support, to offer songs, stories, dances and ceremonies, and lay their prayers on the fire. Many stayed for weeks or months. The amount of support the camp received from other California tribes and from indigenous people internationally was breathtaking.

For many urban Indians from the Bay Area who took part, this was their first experience of living directly on the land—camped together within a village and community bound by a common spiritual purpose. Every person had a valuable role to play. The space that was created was deeply healing and the ancestors voices were listened to. “We went to save the land at Sogorea Te, but really, the land saved us,” camp organizer Johnella LaRose reflected. “We didn’t truly understand we needed the land so much until then.”

The spiritual encampment ended after a cultural easement and memorandum was signed between federally recognized Patwin/Wintu tribes, the City of Vallejo and the Greater Vallejo Park District, which promised to ensure the protection of the site. Though Sogorea Te is Karkin Ohlone territory, Ohlone people are not federally recognized and could not themselves be a party to the easement. Appallingly, in 2012, promises were vacated and agreements violated, as the recreation district proceeded to build a parking lot and grade a section of the land that likely contained cremated remains. Patwin/Wintu tribal monitors were complicit in allowing this to occur. A large ceremonial gathering was subsequently held at the site in mourning and protest.

The courageous example of the warriors and elders at Sogorea Te sent out ripples of empowerment and inspiration across Ohlone territory, and out to Indigenous people all across North America. Only two months after the end of the Sogorea Te occupation, a new front line in the struggle to protect Ohlone burial grounds emerged in the City of Santa Cruz.

When housing developer KB Home was excavating for a new tract of luxury homes in Santa Cruz in August of 2011, within a known 6,000 year old village site, the remains of a small child were unearthed atop a knoll. Their project fully permitted and green-lighted, KB Home indicated their intention to press ahead with development plans, defying the request of designated “Most Likely Descendant” Ann Marie Sayers (Mutsun Ohlone) to halt construction activities and permanently preserve the area surrounding the burial ground.

“Save the Knoll” march arrives at Santa Cruz City Hall, 2011

Inspired by the success at Sogorea Te, native and non-native community members formed the “Save the Knoll Coalition” and began an intensive campaign demanding that KB Home comply with the requests of Ohlone people and preserve the Knoll. Organizing a series of well-attended marches to the site, KB Home’s local headquarters, and City Hall, and building public support through petitions, letters, and media coverage, the coalition sharply increased pressure on KB Home and city officials, while simultaneously planning for a full-scale occupation of the site if such an action became necessary.

Members of the Ohlone Elders Circle making a site visit to the Knoll, 2011

Ann Marie Sayers reached out to the broader Ohlone community, forming an Ohlone Elders Circle to oversee decisions regarding the Knoll, and Santa Cruz lawyer Daniel Sheehan provided pro-bono legal representation. With tensions nearing a boiling point, at a September 19 meeting between elders and company representatives, KB Home elected to cancel building plans on the portion of the site containing known human burials and agreed to establish an easement protecting the burial area in perpetuity, with provisions to allow Ohlone tribal members to access the grounds for ceremony.

Two years later, in Fall of 2013, the City of Santa Clara was discussing a proposal to build a soccer complex at the Ulistac Natural Area, the location of an ancient Tamien Ohlone village known as Ulistac. City planners abandoned this ill-conceived project thanks to the advocacy of Ohlone families from at least four tribal bands, in concert with local environmental activists.

Charlene Sul and Corrina Gould, 2013

In a defining moment of the fight for Ulistac, Charlene Sul of the Confederation of Ohlone Peoples partnered with Chochenyo community leader Corrina Gould in October of 2013 to carry out a 5-mile Save Ulistac prayer walk from Mission Santa Clara to Ulistac, where a large rally and ceremony was held. Speakers at the rally included American Indian Movement veterans Dennis Banks and Wounded Knee DeOcampo, and a special message was read aloud from Muwekma Ohlone chairwoman Rosemary Cambra.

West Berkeley Shellmound: A battle in progress

The West Berkeley Shellmound, at 5,800 years old, is among the most ancient of the Bay Area shellmound funerary monuments. Located along Strawberry Creek, which now runs through a culvert underground, the shellmound remains a place of prayer for Ohlone people, despite being covered by buildings, asphalt, and a railroad. In March and April of 2016, while trenching for a new retail development—one Ohlone leaders had repeatedly spoken out against—the remains of ancestors were unearthed.

“Protect Ohlone Lisjan Sacred Sites” mural, at the site of the West Berkeley Shellmound— painted by community as an act of resistance. (Photo: Scott Braley)

Ohlone leaders and community members are calling for a halt to the proposed development, so that a process of consultation can be undertaken, and alternative visions for the sacred site can be discussed. Ohlone people held a prayer vigil at the shellmound on April 10, 2016, attended by about 50 native and non-native people.

“We’re saying, enough. Stop,” Corrina Gould said to the crowd that was gathered. “The permit should be revoked immediately and the City of Berkeley should honor the commitment made in January to adopt the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People, which means free, prior and informed consent regarding our traditional village sites.”

“This is not just cement,” Gould said, gesturing at the pavement. “This is a place that was intended by our ancestors’ ancestors to be here for us for all eternity, to put down those prayers.”

Conclusion: Indigenous sovereignty in the 21st century

Photo by Alex Darocy

In an ongoing process of recovery from the impacts of Spanish and American policies of slavery, extermination and forced assimilation, Ohlone descendants have acted effectively in the modern era to reclaim their Indigenous nationhood and self determination. Ohlone people today continue to build resilience through cultural and spiritual revitalization, while exploring new ways to reclaim and assert their sovereignty in a shifting political climate.

Although there are many valuable ways to support Ohlone people in their struggles and restorative efforts, one issue stands out as paramount: the need for land to be returned to the stewardship of Ohlone people. To this day, Ohlone people have never been compensated for the taking of their lands and the destruction of their environmental and cultural heritage.

There is an urgent and profound need for today’s Ohlone communities to regain land bases within their traditional territories—land that can form a foundation for continued healing and restoration. The Sogorea Te Land Trust was created as a means to realize this restorative vision in the East Bay, on Chochenyo and Karkin Ohlone territory.

“My ancestors have always been here. That’s my blessing, my grandchildren’s blessing, that they were born on the land that their ancestors have always been on. And maybe my great grandchildren will be born here, too. Our umbilical cords are buried in this land. Our ancestors’ DNA is in this land. And we continue to stand our ground.”
—Corrina Gould

Resources for further reading

Books and publications:

  • Ohlone/Costanoan Indians of the San Francisco Peninsula and their Neighbors, Yesterday and Today— by Randall Milliken, Laurence H. Shoup, and Beverly R. Ortiz. National Park Service, 2009. Full PDF of publication | Individual chapter PDFs on NPS website
  • The Ohlone Past and Present: Native Americans of the San Francisco Bay Region— edited by Lowell John Bean. Ballena Press, 1994. Order from publisher | Amazon link | Excerpted chapter PDF download: The Ohlone: Back from Extinction
  • A Gathering of Voices The Native Peoples of the Central California Coast— edited by Linda Yamane (Rumsien Ohlone). Santa Cruz County History Journal, 2002. Order from publisher | Amazon link | Book review by David G. Sweet
  • “No Somos Animales”: Indigenous Resistance and Perseverance in Nineteenth Century Santa Cruz— by Martin Adam Rizzo. Unpublished dissertation, September 2006. PDF download (5 mb)
  • Ohlone Curriculum: “Aligns with Third Grade History-Social Science Content and Common Core Standards”— edited by Beverly R. Ortiz, Ph.D. and published by East Bay Regional Parks. The current (2005) edition of this curriculum contains 8 teaching units and was created in consultation with Ohlone descendants. It is available for free download in PDF format: Download page
  • A Time of Little Choice: The Disintegration of Tribal Culture in the San Francisco Bay Area 1769-1810—by Randall Milliken. Malki-Ballena Press, 1995/2009. Order from publisher | Amazon link
  • When the World Ended, How Hummingbird Got Fire, How People Were Made: Rumsien Ohlone Stories— by Linda Yamane. Oyate, 1995. Order from publisher | Amazon link — See also: The Snake That Lived in the Santa Cruz Mountains & Other Ohlone Stories— by Linda Yamane. Oyate, 1998. Order from publisher | Amazon link
  • Bad Indians: A Tribal Memoir— by Deborah A. Miranda. Heyday Press, 2013. Order from publisher | Amazon link

Ohlone tribal websites

Films and video clips

Ohlone Sacred Sites Protection

Language Revitalization