Community

Cob Structures House Kitchen, Clinic, Shower, in West Oakland Homeless Community

Published

5 years ago

April 29, 2021

A community kitchen, clinic, toilet and shower made out of cob and wood sit under the 880 Freeway within a homeless community west of Wood Street in West Oakland on April 18.

Members of three organizations – Artists Building Communities, Essential Food and Medicine, and Living Earth Structures – have built a kitchen, clinic, free store, stage, toilet, oven, and shower with and for a homeless community near Wood Street in West Oakland.

Made out of wood covered in brown cob, the structures that house these facilities seem almost as natural extensions of the earth upon which they sit. Empty wine bottles serve as windows, and old discarded clothes serve as insulation. Sculpted images of trees decorate the structures’ surfaces and succulent plants sprout along the perimeters of their roofs.

Winding stone pathways connect the structures and are bordered by little gardens of herbs, greens, and flowers. The kitchen has a stove, sink with running water, shelving full of bread, and a refrigerator full of food. Herbs and emergency medical supplies fill the clinic. The shower’s water runs hot.

The project is called Cob on Wood. It sits on land owned by, west of Wood Street, and under the 880 freeway.

A community of homeless residents lives near Cob on Wood, surrounding the site. Advocates and some residents estimate the population of that community to be about 100 people. The area west of Wood Street in West Oakland that the community lives in does not receive regular sanitation service from the City of Oakland, and much of it is densely packed with abandoned vehicles and garbage.

With regular maintenance by those living inside and outside of the homeless community, the Cob on Wood site looks different from its surroundings, like a rose that grows out of a crack in the concrete.

“This was built through relationships with the community and came out of requests from the community,” said Xochitl Bernadette Moreno, co-founder of Essential Food and Medicine (EFAM).

EFAM started building relationships with Wood Street residents early in the COVID-19 pandemic by giving them juice, soups, and natural medicines made from local produce. Artists Building Community (ABC) also started early in the pandemic, when Annemarie Bustamante and some of her neighbors living in The Vulcan Loft apartments in East Oakland started building small wooden homes for homeless Oakland residents.

ABC has expanded now to include volunteers throughout the area, and they have built several of their homes in the Wood Street community. But the structures at Cob on Wood-look different from ABC’s homes.

ABC and EFAM came together to contract with Miguel Elliot of Living Earth Structures to guide the building of Cob on Wood structures using cob. The group benefited from Elliot’s experience of building cob structures for over 25 years in a variety of settings and locations, including parts of Central and South America, Africa, and Asia.

While the groups have followed Elliot’s construction guidance, they also followed nearby homeless residents’ service requests, whose first request was a kitchen. Elliot’s cob construction made the kitchen safe from catching fire, as the cob is fireproof.

Such precautions were necessary. Oakland’s fire department responded to almost 1,000 fires in homeless communities during fiscal years 2018-19 and 2019-20.

LeaJay Harper, who has lived in the Wood Street community for over seven years, now restocks the kitchen every few days and also cooks for herself and other residents.

“It’s been a challenge trying to keep food in the kitchen because people are definitely using it,” said Harper. “It’s made it so that folks who didn’t have the facilities at their own space to cook can have hot food every single day. A lot of people are gaining weight, which is a good thing.”

Harper works and meets closely with ABC and EFAM to plan food pickups. Other homeless residents have taken on roles in the community as well. A resident named Lydia, who lives in an RV near the community and is knowledgeable about medicinal uses of herbs, is the community clinic liaison. She helps spread information about ways residents can use the clinic’s herbs.

Raquel, a teenager who lives with her family in the Wood Street community, helps with outreach to inform other residents about Cob on Wood services and events. Another teenager, Sequoia, who used to live on Wood Street, is also part of Cob on Wood’s outreach team.

“I think being part of [Cob on Wood] is really amazing,” Sequoia said. “Most of my life I was homeless and being able to give back to the community now that I’m not on the streets means a lot to me.”

The idea for the community started in September of last year, and construction started in December. The project has been growing. These days, Moreno says about 50 people meet online on Wednesdays to formally plan and maintain the project.

On Sundays, the group meets more informally on site for construction, site maintenance, a pizza party, and an open mic. The vast majority of people involved with the project still live outside of the Wood Street community, but the word is spreading.

Cob on Wood volunteers go into the Wood Street community and hand out flyers about the project. On Sunday, April 18, they hosted an Earth Day celebration called “What’s Your Medicine?” with food, DJs, dance, and musical performances.

At least 100 people showed up to the event. One Wood Street resident who lives in a self-made home said he had never heard of Cob on Wood before but followed the sound of the music and found it.

Ashel Seasunz Eldridge, who co-founded EFAM, and performed at the Earth Day celebration with his band, Dogon Lights, said that Cob on Wood seeks to build on work that Wood St residents already are doing. During the Earth Day celebration, when Cob on Wood had a Town Hall to discuss how the project could sustain itself and better serve the community, five Wood Street residents took the lead, speaking to each other and the crowd through a PA system.

Those residents have been meeting weekly in another part of the Wood Street community.

“We were inspired by the meetings people were already having,” said Eldridge. “We thought, why not bring that to the town hall.”

One topic Wood Street residents spoke about was defending themselves and other people experiencing homelessness from displacement. It was something Cob on Wood organizers found pertinent, as they worry that the site, which sits on CalTrans owned land, could face displacement from that state agency.

A recent article in the San Francisco Chronicle cites CalTrans spokesperson RocQuel Johnson as claiming the agency plans to clear “abandoned vehicles and liter” from CalTrans land near Wood Street in May and June, claiming similar actions were executed on April 12 and April13.

ABC founder Annmarie Bustamante was at the Wood Street homeless community on those days and claims CalTrans forced people to move themselves and their homes from the location they lived to an area more out of sight of a nearby street.

Abandoned vehicles, Bustamante claims, were not removed from the Wood Street homeless community but were moved to a separate area still within that community. She said the operation did not remove trash but displaced people.

Although this reporter asked CalTrans about the April 12 and 13 operations, the agency did not respond. But Johnson told the SF Chronicle that “[Cob on Wood] structures were placed on state right of way without a permit or without safety inspections,” and added that “CalTrans is currently evaluating the best course of action and has no immediate plans to remove the structures.”

Cob on Wood organizers is unclear about whether CalTrans will remove their structures. The state agency cleared homeless people off their land in Oakland on Sept. 21 last year and late January this year. During the January operation, a group of advocates, 10 of whom carried colorful shields, defended the self-made home of two Oakland residents living on the land bordering Mosswood Park and the 580 Freeway.

While nearly 20 of their neighbors cleared themselves from the CalTrans-owned land they were living on, the two residents never left the area, and their home was not dismantled.

Bustamante, who was at the January CalTrans operation supporting eviction defense, is also prepared to defend Cob on Wood if necessary. Defending space through direct action is a topic of steady conversation among those involved with Cob on Wood.

“If CalTrans does try to displace us at Wood Street without allowing for other adequate resources, there’s gonna be a fight,” said Bustamante.

Cob on Wood wants to expand to include a sauna and small huts for homeless residents. They are seeking funds to help their project, to help pay for construction costs, materials and stipends for homeless residents who help with the project.

Readers can donate to their gofundme campaign.

Mia Lane

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OP-ED: Proposition 44 Would Put a Price on Trust

The danger in Proposition 44 is not only its 90 percent figure. It is that the meaning of “qualifying” spending will be worked out later. A clinic preparing a budget today may not know whether a navigator, health educator, transportation program, outreach worker, technology upgrade, or other patient-support service will be counted the way it expects. Yet the financial consequence of getting it wrong could be immediate.

Published

5 hours ago

October 6, 2026

Post News Group

Oakland’s public conversation about health care must begin with a simple truth: a doctor’s appointment is not the same thing as access to care.

For a mother juggling work and child care, access may mean a text-message reminder, a bus pass, an evening appointment, or someone who can explain what Medi-Cal covers. For an older patient managing diabetes, it may mean help scheduling a specialist visit and understanding new medications. For a family that has been dismissed or misunderstood in medical settings, access may begin with meeting a community health worker who knows the neighborhood, speaks their language, and treats their concerns with respect.

Community health clinics make that kind of care possible. They are part medical provider, part navigator, part educator, and part trusted local institution. Proposition 44 threatens to narrow the definition of what counts as patient care in a way that could undermine the very supports that allow patients to receive it.

The statewide measure would require covered nonprofit community clinics to spend at least 90 percent of their annual revenue on health care or qualifying program services. The ballot measure directs the Attorney General to establish more detailed guidance on what expenses qualify. Clinics that do not meet the threshold could face penalties for the difference. The Legislative Analyst’s Office reports that affected clinics currently spend an average of about 80 percent of revenue on health care services.

A percentage may look like a clean measure of accountability. But health care is not cleanly divided between what happens inside an examination room and everything that enables a patient to enter one.

Consider the work that happens before and after a visit. Clinic staff maintain confidential patient records. They follow up after missed appointments. They keep information systems secure. They recruit and train employees in an expensive and competitive health care labor market. They coordinate referrals, process claims, purchase supplies, maintain buildings, and make certain that patients are not lost somewhere between diagnosis and treatment.

Oakland families should not be asked to accept the fiction that these functions are unrelated to care.

The Legislative Analyst’s Office says clinics falling short of the requirement could be required to pay the shortfall amount to the state and could seek to recover the money only if they show compliance within five years. The same analysis estimates state enforcement costs in the low tens of millions of dollars annually, supported by fees.

That is a troubling arrangement for organizations that are expected to provide care to people with the fewest alternatives.

Oakland has learned that trust is not built through slogans. It is built when a patient is listened to, when a parent can secure an appointment for a child, when a clinic returns a call, and when a person receives help without being shamed for their income, insurance, language, immigration history, or prior experience with the system.

For Black residents in particular, trustworthy care is not an abstract goal. Persistent inequities in health outcomes and patient treatment are real. Community-centered clinics can help bridge the gap with culturally responsive staff, patient navigators, behavioral-health programs, and partnerships that understand the conditions shaping health outside the clinic door.

Proposition 44 could pressure providers to treat those supports as expendable because they do not fit neatly into a state-enforced formula. That would be a mistake.

Accountability is necessary. Clinics that receive public resources should be transparent, well governed, and focused on their mission. But good oversight asks whether patients are being served well, whether money is managed responsibly, and whether communities can obtain needed care. It should not rely on a rigid ratio that may punish clinics for doing the hard work of reaching people who need more than a brief medical encounter.

A broad coalition of providers and community organizations opposes Proposition 44, including the California Primary Care Association, the California Medical Association, the California Hospital Association, Planned Parenthood Affiliates of California, and the California Teachers Association.

Oakland needs health policy that expands the circle of care. Proposition 44 risks drawing that circle smaller.

The Oakland Post editorial board urges a No vote on Proposition 44.

Post News Group

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Black History

Listening as a Lifeline: A Doula’s Witness to Black Maternal Health

OAKLAND POST — Maternal mortality and pregnancy-related mortality use different time frames and methods and are not interchangeable. Finalized 2024 CDC data recorded 649 maternal deaths nationally. The overall rate was 17.9 deaths per 100,000 live births, but for non-Hispanic Black women it was 44.8, compared with 14.2 for White women and 12.1 for Hispanic women.

Published

2 days ago

October 4, 2026

Post News Group

By Antoinette Stewart-Eneh, Special to California Black Media Partners

Word Count: 1058

Note: Client A, B & C, names are withheld for privacy; these accounts reflect my recollections as their Doula.

Client A rocked her hips on a birthing ball, surrounded by pale wood and warm textiles in a softly lit Scandinavian-style office. I was her doula through a Southern California maternal health company combining nurse-led care, technology, and wraparound support.

She was a healthy Black woman in her thirties. Her baby girl was doing well; her partner took notes as we discussed labor and advocacy.

Then we turned to their chosen hospital. I knew it well—and remembered a phrase from another client’s experience: “Policy of Sovereignty.”

Client B had been told she needed a repeat cesarean as a precaution, though the reasoning was unclear. Her obstetrician, who performed her first cesarean two years earlier, had assured her throughout pregnancy that she was healthy, healed, and ready for a vaginal birth. We asked staff to review her chart, consult her obstetrician, and reconsider immediate surgery. Instead, they invoked the “Policy of Sovereignty.”

The physician on duty, we were told, had final authority, regardless of her established care plan. I asked whether an ultrasound or reassessing the baby’s position could offer clarity. Cesareans can be lifesaving. But were Client B’s history, informed consent, and circumstances guiding this decision—or was routine overriding individualized care? We kept asking for her obstetrician. Beneath every request was a deeper question: Was she being heard?

The Numbers Behind the Stories

Statistics arrive in clean columns. The experiences behind them do not.

Maternal mortality and pregnancy-related mortality use different time frames and methods and are not interchangeable. Finalized 2024 CDC data recorded 649 maternal deaths nationally. The overall rate was 17.9 deaths per 100,000 live births, but for non-Hispanic Black women it was 44.8, compared with 14.2 for White women and 12.1 for Hispanic women.

In California, Black birthing people experienced 56.5 pregnancy-related deaths per 100,000 live births during 2020–2022—3.8 times the White rate and four times the Asian rate.

As a doula serving Los Angeles and San Bernardino Counties, I see faces behind those numbers. I remember concerns raised softly, then firmly, then desperately. I am tired of watching Black families enter spaces meant to protect them, only to discover they must defend themselves while laboring, bleeding, trembling, or recovering.

Returning to Client A

Client A’s labor stretched nearly 48 hours. As her condition worsened, she, her partner, and I asked whether a cesarean should happen sooner. A provider questioned my place as a doula, then said she was next.

Six more hours passed.

She entered surgery visibly ill with a serious uterine infection, her baby malpositioned and stuck. Her partner later recalled the provider saying, “This baby would never have made it through the birth canal.”

Those words landed like a blow. Our urgency had been treated as ignorance. With Client B, we questioned why surgery was inevitable. With Client A, why it was delayed. Doula advocacy is not about one kind of birth. It is about informed consent, individualized care, and timely action. Hospital routine should never outweigh the person carrying the risk.

Survival Cannot Be the Standard

The Black maternal health crisis includes unequal care, untreated conditions, racial bias, delayed referrals, poor communication, and inadequate postpartum support. It is about birth plans respected only until a hospital becomes less busy and postpartum care that asks whether a mother survived, not whether she has what she needs to recover.

Survival cannot be the standard. Technology can support care, but it cannot replace human connection. An algorithm cannot detect fear in a patient’s eyes, and a mission statement alone cannot ensure adequate staffing or culturally responsive care.

The Story of Client C

Before I arrived, I heard the chaos through Client C’s phone. Staff struggled to locate her baby’s heartbeat on an external monitor as her fear and blood pressure rose. I pleaded for an internal electrode before surgery.

“There’s not enough time,” a nurse said.

“I would like to wait for my doula,” Client C called out.

But she was medicated, hurried through consent, and wheeled away while I listened.

In the operating room, after a shift change, another nurse placed an internal electrode and said, “The previous monitor wasn’t working.”

No one responded.

According to her father, the obstetrician avoided eye contact: “We need to move forward.”

Surgery may still have been necessary; that was not mine to determine. But if faulty equipment helped create the emergency, the family deserved acknowledgment and explanation—not silence. No family should have to wonder whether major surgery followed an unavoidable crisis or a machine failure no one recognized in time.

From Prevention to Accountability

After supporting nearly 100 families, I have learned that danger often begins before admission. I have urged clients to seek care—and heard why they feared returning: dismissed pain, harsh words, shame for asking questions.

Care cannot be holistic where Black families do not feel safe enough to speak or return. Representation matters, but providers of color cannot repair inequity alone. They need adequate staffing, mentorship, culturally responsive training, reliable equipment, and colleagues that are reflective of all the aforementioned. It’s not the Black providers job to care for just the Black patients, everyone should have the same goal.

The Momnibus Act, California’s Medi-Cal doula benefit, the Transforming Maternal Health Model and the Perinatal Equity Initiative require more than promises; they need sustained funding, reliable reimbursement and accountable implementation.

Birth should be sacred. Yet too many Black birthing people arrive carrying the burden of proving their pain is real. A doula can listen, educate, comfort, and advocate—but cannot repair a system that refuses to listen. The true measure of progress is what happens when a Black birthing person says, “Something is wrong.”

Are they believed? When equipment fails, is that failure acknowledged? Do families leave not merely alive, but safe, respected, supported, and whole?

Until those answers are consistently yes, California’s maternal health success story remains unfinished.

About the Author

Antoinette Stewart-Eneh is a mother of two, holistic maternal wellness advocate, and birth and postpartum doula who has supported families since 2019. She serves as program operations coordinator for Frontline Doulas, a volunteer client coordinator with the Joy in Birthing Foundation and a childbirth educator in South Los Angeles. She is studying to become a midwife and lactation educator.

Post News Group

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Commentary

‘We Don’t Talk Trash — We Pick Up Trash!’

OAKLAND POST — Following the cleanup, Jones talked with Richard Johnson, CEO of Formerly Incarcerated Giving Back (FIGB). Johnson said he wanted to bring formerly incarcerated nonprofits together not only to help clean up the city, but also to bring youth with them to mentor the next generation.

Published

2 days ago

October 4, 2026

Post News Group

High Street Coalition volunteers pick up trash on Sept. 26. Left to right are: Jo Ann, Ruben, JoJo, Jess, Jonathan ‘Fitness’ Jones and Linda in front. Photo courtesy of Linda.

By Dr. Maritony Jones, Special to The Post

When community activist Jonathan “Fitness” Jones heard concerns from senior residents in East Oakland about illegal dumping, recurring trash issues and the health hazards they created, he decided that watching the problem was not enough.

Jones, a member of the African American Sports and Entertainment Group (AASEG) and an Oakland Private Industry Council board member, learned that seniors were frustrated by the recurrence of illegal dumping even when trash has been cleared. Recurring trash can contribute to unsanitary conditions, attract rodents and leave residents feeling that their neighborhoods are being overlooked.

On Saturday, Sept. 26, Mr. Jones joined High Street Coalition volunteers at Dick’s Donuts near High Street and Quigley Street, spending the morning picking up trash and helping beautify the surrounding neighborhood.

High Street Coalition volunteers organize community cleanups on the second and fourth Saturdays of each month.

Following the cleanup, Jones talked with Richard Johnson, CEO of Formerly Incarcerated Giving Back (FIGB). Johnson said he wanted to bring formerly incarcerated nonprofits together not only to help clean up the city, but also to bring youth with them to mentor the next generation.

Jones and Johnson discussed developing a community model that brings formerly incarcerated individuals, Oakland youth and nonprofit organizations together to clean and beautify the city.

The vision is to create opportunities for formerly incarcerated adults to take leadership roles while mentoring young people through hands-on community service. The program could also provide youth with opportunities to develop leadership skills, learn teamwork and responsibility, and potentially gain employment experience.

The goal is bigger than removing trash from the streets. It is about restoring neighborhoods while building relationships between generations and creating opportunities for people with lived experience to give back to their communities.

Jones believes the message is simple:

“We don’t talk trash, we pick up trash.”

The proposed collaboration seeks to bring Oakland nonprofits, formerly incarcerated leaders, youth, residents, businesses and community organizations together around a shared purpose — cleaning the town, beautifying Oakland and building a stronger community together.