The Legacy of Dispossession: A History of Loss and Resilience

In the battle for Puvungna in California, centuries of cultural erasure and environmental harm highlight the ongoing disregard for Indigenous sovereignty

In 2019, the California State University of Long Beach (CSULB) dumped over 6400 cubic yards of construction dirt and debris onto Puvungna, a sacred ceremonial site of the Gabrielino-Tongva and Acjachemen nations. The lawsuit was settled in 2021, establishing a ban on any university or any other landowner from developing the land, and ensuring the right of Indigenous groups to use the land for ceremonial and cultural purposes. Yet three years after the settlement was reached, the university has yet to return the stewardship.

After long centuries of atrocities, the fight for Indigenous tribal nations and their sacred environments can no longer be buried behind broken promises —instead, institutions need to take accountability for destroying the physical and cultural significance tied to Indigenous lands.

Such injustice is nothing new — California tribal nations, particularly the Acjachemen Nation, have faced blatant disrespect from U.S. institutions for decades. In 2018, for example, Southern California Edison, a utility company, dumped over three million pounds of nuclear waste on the San Onofre State Beach, a site glaringly close to the Acjachemen territory. This atrocious act is a clear violation of California Assembly Bill 52, as SCE did not consult local Native American tribes before conducting the development project. Such examples are overt infringements on the sovereignty Indigenous nations, and reflected loopholes in federal protections that companies use to degrade the political and legal status of Indigenous tribes. 

Indeed, the clear disrespect and blatant subversions of Indigenous sovereignty have manifested in the ways the companies handled the accusations. Following the controversy with nuclear waste disposal, SCE excluded tribal governments from its Community Engagement Panel (CEP) despite its stated commitment to “bringing together diverse stakeholders from the community.” 

Even when Native communities are included in the decision-making process, land reclamation and recovery still prove to be nearly impossible. In the Puvungna case, the 2021 settlement promised for the land to be handed over to an appropriate steward within two years. But when Friends of Puvungna — an Indigenous-led nonprofit created to protect and restore Puvungna — submitted a proposal for stewardship of the site, CSULB denied their request for no other reason but “conflict of interest.” Their refusal to award stewardship to an Indigenous organization is yet another attempt to disregard Native sovereignty, an evasion of accountability for a promise they should have fulfilled a year ago.

Without a proper steward to tend to its land, Puvungna risks further environmental damage to its already weakened state. Previous testing of the soil revealed high levels of arsenic that are hazardous to surrounding communities. In 2023, CSULB attempted to remediate this issue through a “soil treatment plan,” a system created yet again without the consent of the tribal governments. Evidenced by the lack of a supplementary environmental impact report, the university neglected potential consequences on the plants, animals, and residents of the site. As argued by Friends of Puvungna, the treatment plan would make it even more difficult to restore the soil long-term by damaging the ecosystem further. It’s clear that Indigenous lands should be taken care of by Indigenous communities to whom they rightfully belong—not profit-driven institutions that have no knowledge about the sacred practices necessary for proper environmental conservation. 

CSULB has the opportunity to set a positive precedent for other institutions by taking complete accountability for their actions—including the return of Puvungna back to the Gabrielino-Tongva and Acjachemen nations. A half-hearted apology on social media will achieve no part of the compensation legally indebted to these nations. Actions, ultimately, speak louder than words — a concept that must be drilled into these institutions in order to break the cycle. 

Gina Zhao