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150,000 People Live in Unincorporated Alameda County. What Does That Mean for Them?

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Keith Barros, a longtime San Lorenzo resident and community advocate, stands outside the historic Lorenzo Theatre in the unincorporated area of Alameda County on July 16, 2025. Alameda County’s unincorporated areas, like Ashland and Cherryland, recently received rental protections their neighbors have long enjoyed.  (Beth LaBerge/KQED)

View the full episode transcript.

There’s a fire station in the East Bay, on Meekland Avenue, with a mosaic depicting big homes in a pastoral landscape. It evokes a time long ago when this area, the stretch of the East Bay flats sandwiched between San Leandro and Hayward, was known for its orchards. A local artist named David Burke created the mosaic.

When the artist’s friend, Sam Hopkins, learned about the project at the Cherryland Fire Station, he remembered slogging through traffic on the 238 connector between I-580 and I-880 and seeing somewhat mystifying signs that said “entering Cherryland” and “entering Ashland.” He thought to himself, “Where’s Cherryland?” When Hopkins finally stopped by to see his friend’s work at the single-engine fire station, he noticed something. “It says Alameda County Fire Department,” he said.

When he looked it up, he realized that sprinkled throughout the densely residential East Bay flats are several unincorporated areas, two of which are called Ashland and Cherryland. Hopkins hadn’t even realized they were there.

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He wondered: “What is the history behind Ashland and Cherryland, two unincorporated communities in the East Bay? What defines an ‘unincorporated’ community?”

Named for the cherry orchards and ash trees that used to grow in this area in the early 1900s, these places wedged between San Leandro and Hayward are urban now and they deal with some of the same issues as other Bay Area communities, but also come with consequences for residents’ ability to access political representation, housing protections and a sense of community identity.

Welcome to unincorporated Alameda County

About 10% of Alameda County’s population lives on unincorporated land. That means they aren’t part of any of the county’s cities and don’t have city departments for public services like fire, police or public works. And, they often pay lower property taxes because of this setup.

Instead, the roughly 150,000 people who live in unincorporated Alameda County depend on the county for those things, which often confuses new residents to the area.

Keith Barros, a longtime San Lorenzo resident and community advocate, walks through a neighborhood in the unincorporated area of Alameda County on July 16, 2025. (Beth LaBerge/KQED)

“I live in San Leandro, so I’m gonna call the San Leandro police department,” said Keith Barros, a longtime resident of Ashland, giving an example of a mixup. “[But if] you call the San Leandro Police Department, it’s like, ‘I’m sorry, you’re not in our jurisdiction. You need to call the Alameda County Sheriff.’”

East Bay residents who live in cities like Oakland or Hayward don’t have this problem because police and fire are among the many services provided by their city governments, funded by local taxes.

One big issue Barros, a former UPS driver, has been fighting for is formal recognition of their community identity on legal mail. Until recently, unincorporated residents had to list the nearest city as their official addresses.

So, for example, Ashland residents would list their addresses with San Leandro, even though they aren’t part of the city. Earlier this year, the county successfully petitioned the U.S. Postal Service to allow it to list the community, like Cherryland or Ashland, as its official address.

The Ashland Youth Center in an unincorporated area of Alameda County on July 16, 2025. (Beth LaBerge/KQED)

And there have been other wins as well. Barros advocated for building the REACH Ashland Youth Center on a once-blighted property.

“This area has needed something like this. The youth of this area, for a long time, just didn’t have a place to go,” Barros said. “It gives them a sense of community, a sense of identity.”

The youth center feels like a victory on a lot of fronts because one of the most difficult aspects of being unincorporated is that there’s no hyperlocal government to reach out to for help. Instead, residents like Barros have to go to the county board of supervisors, where they’ve had limited success.

“Ashland and Cherryland, in particular, there’s more of a transient population that lives here,” Barros said. “A lot of renters, they’ve been kind of disenfranchised from the political process, because they haven’t really had any representation of any kind. There’s no city council, nothing like that.”

A sign for Cherryland, an unincorporated area of Alameda County, on July 16, 2025. (Beth LaBerge/KQED)

Barros said even though Alameda County supervisors are their elected representatives, they have bigger, countywide issues on their plates. Unincorporated residents said it has been hard to get them to pay attention to their local needs.

“I really don’t like injustice,” Barros said. “I don’t like it when things are not fair.”

Barros spent years organizing his neighbors to push for their own advisory council that would advocate for Ashland and Cherryland to the county board. In 2020, they formed the Eden Area Municipal Advisory Council. The Eden Area is the collective term for a 25-square-mile section of unincorporated area that includes Ashland, Cherryland, Castro Valley, Fairview, and San Lorenzo.

“Their voices are being heard, and they’re there,” Barros said. “Their opinions are making their way up to where they need to, at the [County] Board of Supervisors, because that’s our governing body.”

Organizing to protect tenants

One of the first issues the council worked on was renter protections.

“The thing about representing the unincorporated area, when we looked at it, it had no community power,” said Claudia Albano, deputy chief of staff for Alameda County Supervisor Nate Miley, who represents most of the urban unincorporated areas. “The only people who had community power were the landlords, the real estate industry.”

A home under construction in Cherryland, an unincorporated area of Alameda County, on July 16, 2025. (Beth LaBerge/KQED)

It has been Albano’s job over the past eight years to bring different community groups together and help them advocate for themselves. And one of the biggest issues is that renters in unincorporated areas aren’t protected by rental laws that individual cities pass. They are more vulnerable to eviction in a power imbalance favoring landlords.

“It has been terrible,” said Elena Torres, a low-income renter in the area. “Like in my case, I have a two-year battle with my landlord.”

Torres said she asked her landlord to get rid of a roach infestation and to fix things like a broken furnace and water heater. Instead, he evicted her from the one-bedroom apartment she shared with her husband and daughter.

“They have no real cause for eviction, but they decide only because you are asking [for it] to be fixed, you are out,” Torres said. “Eviction is a business practice for them, in order to not take the responsibilities. And it’s not fair.”

The experience prompted Torres to get involved with a social justice group called My Eden Voice.

Two years ago, the organization issued a report that found many residents in unincorporated areas are forced to live in housing that would normally be considered uninhabitable, endure verbal abuse from landlords, and live in fear of eviction, all while having no clear avenues to get help.

“If you go and make a complaint that he’s harassing you, if you call the sheriff, the sheriff can’t do anything because it’s his property,” Torres said. “So you have to go to the actual court and go through the process.”

Despite winning in court, Torres said her landlord was set on evicting her one way or another. She pleaded to her representatives on the county board of supervisors for help.

“I even sent them letters. I tell them the situation. I tell them the issues that the tenants are having and they didn’t do anything,” she said.

Elena Torres, evicted from her previous home in an unincorporated area of Alameda County, holds a drawing her daughter made during their housing struggle at their new home in Hayward on July 16, 2025. (Beth LaBerge/KQED)

Torres didn’t want to move to a nearby city with stricter rental protections already in place because her daughter is thriving at her current school.

“It’s not that simple because my daughter has been an honor student for eight years in a row,” she said. “The only thing I can give my daughter is education. That’s a legacy.”

After Torres and her family were forced out of their apartment in January of this year, she and her daughter moved in with a friend — who was also facing eviction — while her husband lived in their only car.

Torres kept reaching out to the county for help, but she was frustrated at their response and the slow pace of change.

Elena Torres stands outside her new home in Hayward on July 16, 2025, after being displaced from her previous home in an unincorporated area — a change that led her to get involved with My Eden Voice, where she now advocates for housing justice. (Beth LaBerge/KQED)

“We are the ones dealing with landlords,” she said. “They are not the ones losing everything. I lose everything.”

After five years of discussion, Alameda County supervisors passed just cause protections in February, which included protecting families from being evicted during the school year and ending retaliatory evictions after tenants attempt to assert their rights.

These “just cause” protections are rights that tenants in other Bay Area cities have long enjoyed. Renting in an unincorporated community just got a little bit easier. After six months living separately in makeshift accommodations, Torres recently found her family a new place to live together under one roof.

Episode Transcript

Katrina Schwartz: On the east side of the bay, towns fan out across the flatlands, sandwiched between the East Bay hills and the water. Oakland is the biggest, of course, but drive south from there and you’re soon in San Leandro, Hayward, Union City and Fremont. But there are some far less well-known communities hidden in that same stretch.

Rachel Osajima: Thank you for being here for the Ashland-Cherryland community identifier ribbon cutting ceremony. (sounds of crowd cheering)

Katrina Schwartz: Ashland and Cherryland are two unincorporated communities wedged between San Leandro and Hayward.

Bill Ouirk: They want to be recognized as communities. As Ashland, as Cherryland.

Katrina Schwartz: The thing is, it’s really easy to miss these places. That’s why the county commissioned a muralist to paint an overpass on East 14th Street. One side reads Ashland and the other Cherryland.

Barisha Spriggs: We’re very proud of this accomplishment. That this will be a lasting memento to all of our unincorporated communities for years to come.

Katrina Schwartz: Bay Curious listener, Sam Hopkins, was one of the many people who hadn’t thought much…if ever… about these places until recently. His friend was asked to work on a mosaic at a fire station in Cherryland. When Sam heard that, he thought to himself: Where’s Cherryland? And when he saw on the map that both Ashland and Cherryland are smack in the middle of the East Bay, he got curious.

Sam Hopkins: What is the history behind Ashland and Cherryland, two unincorporated communities in the East Bay? What defines an “unincorporated” community?

Katrina Schwartz: Named for the cherry orchards and ash trees that used to grow in this area in the early 1900s, these places are definitely urban now, and they deal with some of the same issues as other Bay Area communities. Today on the show, we’ll explain what it means for an area to be “unincorporated.” It turns out living in one of these communities has big consequences for residents’ ability to access political representation and housing protections. I’m Katrina Schwartz, stay with us.

Alameda is the second most populous county in the Bay Area…after Santa Clara. Oakland is the biggest city, but the county stretches all the way out to Livermore in the East and Fremont in the South. It’s a big swath of land, and about half of it is “unincorporated,” including two areas known as Cherryland and Ashland. KQED reporter Brian Krans set out to discover more about the day-to-day realities of living in an unincorporated area.

Brian Krans: About 10% of Alameda County’s population lives on unincorporated land.

That means they aren’t part of any of the county’s cities and don’t have city departments for public services like fire, police or public works.

Instead, people who live in unincorporated communities like Cherryland and Ashland depend on the county for those things.

Keith Barros: This is 94578, which is a San Leandro zip code. But it’s not, it’s not the city of San Leandro.

Brian Krans: Keith Barros knows all about the headaches that come with being unincorporated.

He says a lot of times, residents themselves don’t know that where they live is unincorporated, leading to mistakes like this one.

Keith Barros: So, okay, I live in San Leandro, so I’m gonna call the San Leandro police department. You call the San Leandro Police Department. It’s like, I’m sorry, you’re not in our jurisdiction. You need to call the Alameda County Sheriff.

Brian Krans: East Bay residents who live in cities don’t have this problem. If they need to call the police or fire department, it’s a city service. But for the roughly 150,000 people who live in unincorporated Alameda County, it’s not that simple. They depend on county-level services, like the sheriff or county fire department, in an emergency. And as so often happens, that adversity has made residents even more invested in their community.

Keith Barros: Because I think those of us here, number one, we want to hold on to our own identity.

Brian Krans: Keith is proud that he’s from unincorporated Alameda County and has worked to gain recognition for the community.

Keith Barros: Where we happen to be standing right now, this used to be a blighted property.

Brian Krans: Take the Ashland REACH center where we’re standing. Keith advocated hard to get this youth center built.

Keith Barros: This area has needed something like this. The youth of this area, for a long time, just didn’t have a place to go. It gives them a sense of community, a sense of identity.

Brian Krans: The youth center feels like a victory on a lot of fronts because one of the most difficult aspects of being unincorporated is that there’s no city council to complain to when things need doing. Instead, residents like Keith have to go to the county board of supervisors. And it’s been tough to get folks organized.

Keith Barros: Ashland and Cherryland, in particular, are more there’s more of a transient population that lives here. A lot of renters, and they’ve been, they’re kind of disenfranchised from the political process, because they haven’t really had any representation of any kind. There’s no city council, nothing like that.

Brian Krans: Keith says even though the Alameda County supervisors are their elected representatives, they have big countywide issues on their plates. It’s hard to get them to pay attention to local needs.

Keith Barros: I really don’t like injustice. I don’t like it when things are not fair.

Brian Krans: He spent years organizing his neighbors to push for their own advisory council that would advocate for Ashland and Cherryland to the county board. They finally formed the Eden Area Municipal Advisory Council in 2020. “Eden Area” is the collective name for Ashland and Cherryland and several other nearby unincorporated areas together.

Keith Barros: They’re being heard. Their voices are being heard, and they’re there. Their opinions are, you know, are making their way up to where they need to, at the Board of Supervisors, because that’s our governing body.

Brian Krans: One of the first issues the council worked on was renter protections.

Claudia Albano: The thing about representing the unincorporated area, when we looked at it, it had no community power.

Brian Krans: Claudia Albano is the Deputy Chief of Staff for Alameda County Supervisor Nate Miley … who represents most of the urban unincorporated areas.

Claudia Albano: The only people who had community power were the small the landlords, the real estate industry.

Brian Krans: It has been Claudia’s job over the past eight years to bring together different community groups and help them advocate for themselves. And one of the biggest issues is that renters in unincorporated areas aren’t protected by rental laws that individual cities pass, making them more vulnerable to eviction. That’s left an imbalance of power in communities like Ashland and Cherryland.

Low-income renters like Elena Torres have paid the price.

Elena Torres: It has been terrible. Like in my case, I have a two-years battle with my landlord.

Brian Krans: She says she asked her landlord to get rid of a roach infestation and to fix things like a broken furnace and water heater. Instead, he evicted her from the one-bedroom apartment she shared with her husband and daughter.

Elena Torres: They have no real cause for eviction, but they decide only because you are asking to be fixed, to have any reparation. You are out. Eviction is a business practice for them, in order to not take the responsibilities. And it’s not fair.

Brian Krans: The experience prompted Elena to get involved with a social justice group called My Eden Voice. Two years ago, the organization issued a report that found many residents in unincorporated areas are forced to live in housing that would normally be considered uninhabitable, endure verbal abuse from landlords, and live in fear of eviction. And they don’t have clear avenues to get help.

Elena Torres: If you go and make a complaint, he’s harassing you, if you call the sheriff, the sheriff can’t do anything, because it’s his property. So you have to go to the court, to the actual court, and go through the process.

Brian Krans: Despite winning in court, Elena said her landlord was set on evicting her one way or another. She pleaded to her representatives on the county board of supervisors for help.

Elena Torres: I even sent them letters. I tell them the situation. I tell them the issues that the tenants are having, and they didn’t do anything.

Brian Krans: Elena and her family were forced out of their apartment in January of this year. She and her daughter moved in with a friend who was also facing eviction, while her husband lived in their only car. Elena kept reaching out to the county for help, but was frustrated at their response and the slow pace of change.

Elena Torres: We are the ones dealing with landlords. They are not the ones losing everything. I lose everything.

Brian Krans: Elena didn’t want to move to a nearby city with stricter rental protections already in place because her daughter is thriving at her current school.

Elena Torres: It’s not that simple because my daughter has been an honor student for eight years in a row. The only thing I can give my daughter is education. That’s a legacy.

Brian Krans: After five years of discussion, Alameda County supervisors passed just cause protections in February, which included protecting families from being evicted during the school year and ending retaliatory evictions after tenants attempt to assert their rights.

These “just cause” protections are rights that tenants in other Bay Area cities have long enjoyed. Living in an unincorporated community just got a little bit easier. Especially now that Elena recently found a new place for her family and they’re celebrating being under one roof together — a first in six months.

Katrina Schwartz: That was KQED reporter Brian Krans.

Thanks to our question-asker, Sam Hopkins. His question won a Bay Curious voting round. You can vote on what we cover next, by heading to kqed.org slash baycurious. And while you’re there, consider making a donation to KQED. As you may have heard, this is a perilous time for public media and every little bit helps to support the shows you love. Thank you so much.

Bay Curious is produced in San Francisco at member-supported KQED. Our show is made by Gabriela Glueck, Christopher Beale and me, Katrina Schwartz. With extra support from Maha Sanad, Katie Springer, Jen Chien and everyone on team KQED.

Some members of the KQED podcast team are represented by the Screen Actors Guild, American Federation of Television and Radio Artists. San Francisco Northern California Local.

Have a great week.

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