In rural places like West Marin, where vast landscapes and small populations shape daily life, communities depend on informal networks. And when disruption ripples through — as it is now amid a mounting housing crisis — there is little to catch people when things go wrong.

Here, that disruption is tied to the end of cattle grazing in Point Reyes National Seashore. Protecting the ecosystem by removing cattle has come at a cost, including the effective eviction of dozens of working families.

Our latest Rural Funders’ Working Group webinar focused on this situation, and on how funders — alongside land trusts and other community partners — are stepping in to help provide a safety net. The conversation featured Valeria Brabata of the West Marin Fund, Cassandra Benjamin of the Marin Community Foundation, and Jarrod Russell of the Community Land Trust Association of West Marin (CLAM).

Protected land, precarious housing

Just across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco, West Marin is a rural landscape of working farmland and coastline, home to seven small towns. Alongside tourists, second-home owners, and long-time residents are Latino families who serve as much of the region’s essential workforce.

Many have lived in the area for generations and are integral to local schools, businesses, and daily life, even as they remain largely absent from official census counts.

Marin is one of the wealthiest counties in California, yet housing is scarce and expensive. For decades, ranches and farms have filled that gap by providing housing the workforce can afford, although often in substandard conditions.

Now that system is coming apart. A recent legal settlement involving the National Parks Service has triggered the closure of a dozen of of Point Reyes’ 14 ranches. Ranch operators agreed to give up their leases in exchange for nearly $30 million in buyouts; $2.5 million was set aside for resident relocation, according to the Point Reyes Light.

Funders filling gaps

While the settlement resolved long-running disputes over grazing on public lands, workers were not represented in the negotiations.

“Some ranch owners provided meaningful severance to longtime employees,” Benjamin said. “Others provided little, and in several cases, none at all.”

What quickly became clear was how unevenly prepared local systems were for the scale of need. Organizations accustomed to supporting a handful of households were suddenly facing dozens of families at once. With no single institution positioned to respond across housing, labor, and social services, The West Marin Fund and the Marin Community Foundation worked closely with CLAM to convene a cross-sector working group connecting housing providers, case management organizations, legal services, health providers, employment support organizations, and county partners. The group functioned as a shared hub where information could move, gaps could surface, and decisions could be made.

Russell likened the centralizing role funders played to that of a town hall in a place without one.

Seeing the problem 

The extent of housing insecurity in West Marin was not a surprise. The Marin Community Foundation, in partnership with Marin County, had already supported a comprehensive housing study, Growing Together. It showed that informal, ranch-based housing was not a short-term workaround, but a decades-long way people have lived in the region — often in overcrowded or substandard units. The study also showed that when people lose housing, it affects not just families, but the restaurants, farms, schools, and local services that depend on their work. By showing what was actually happening on the ground, beyond what census data captures, it clarified what was at stake.

When the closures were eventually announced, those findings allowed the community to move faster. 

Scaling under pressure 

Meanwhile, the most likely provider of new affordable housing was CLAM — but the need far exceeded anything the organization had taken on before. Over two decades, the land trust had developed fewer than 30 homes. It was now being asked to deliver roughly that many in a much shorter window.

That kind of acceleration was only conceivable if funders and the county moved quickly. 

“The only reason that a small nonprofit is even able to step up to this is because we’re not doing it alone,” said CLAM executive director Russell, pointing to early commitments from the West Marin Fund, the Marin Community Foundation, and Marin County that made it possible to shift from incremental development to large-scale response.

Flexible, multi-year philanthropic funding — including unusually large donor-advised fund gifts — allowed CLAM to move quickly on properties, cover predevelopment and operating costs, and pursue solutions before public funding could realistically come online. At the same time, Marin County adopted a temporary emergency shelter declaration that allowed projects to move faster through permitting in a region where zoning, septic limits, and coastal regulations typically slow housing development.

Together, those moves changed what was possible. “Crisis turned us into more of an enabling environment,” Benjamin said.

With no single site able to absorb the need quickly, CLAM pursued a scattered-site approach across West Marin — acquiring small, relatively turnkey properties, negotiating master leases, and developing interim housing such as tiny homes on wheels. One site alone is expected to host 14 interim homes, while other acquisitions have already allowed six families — about 30 people — to move into stable housing, many just  before the holidays. Additional sites are in development or negotiation, creating a path to stabilize all displaced households while permanent housing is planned and financed.

Beyond philanthropy

Even with coordinated funder and county action, not every consequence of the transition could be addressed through formal channels.

“There was a lot of anger, and a lot of mistrust. Families were feeling really hurt and left out — angry at institutions, at the county, at everything. Organizing became essential to respond to that,” Brabata said.

Through groups including Familias Afectadas por el Rancho (FAR), farmworkers and their families organized mutual aid, raising more than $160,000 to support eight workers and families who received no severance. FAR also helped turn lived experience into public action. Displaced ranch families showed up to testify before the Marin County Board of Supervisors in support of CLAM’s housing projects — often taking time off work, traveling over the hill to San Rafael, and speaking publicly despite real personal risk. Their presence helped secure approvals for interim housing and ensured decisions reflected the realities families were living.

Learning together

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