Sahra Sulaiman

"Por favor..." vendor Belén Ortiz implored the councilmembers, "Queremos salir de la sombra." (Please, we want to come out of the shadows.)

Last week, in response to the problem of homelessness among youth in the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD), the school board approved a resolution directing Superintendent Austin Beutner to "explore innovative solutions to provide permanent and or interim housing for homeless students and their families," advocate for the expansion of Section 8 voucher program, and lobby for more federal funds to be allocated toward programming for homeless students.

Within a few weeks of buying the building located a block from Mariachi Plaza in Boyle Heights at the end of 2016, Frank "B.J." Turner had raised rents on a handful of long-term tenants by between 60 and 80 percent. He had also created a website for the building, re-christened “Mariachi Crossing,” targeting those that wanted a taste of a “vibrant” neighborhood and a Metro station within walking distance that could take them to experience the excitement found Downtown. [The website has since been removed. The Craigslist ad with many of the same images and text is here.]

Given the role public investment can have in reshaping marginalized communities, what responsibilities does Metro have as an entity that seeks to tell stories about the places it moves people through?

For black stakeholders eager to shed the despised "Death Alley" label and address the damage rooted in segregationist policies, the stakes feel especially high

Last Thurday, the Metro Board of Directors approved a 14-month Exclusive Negotiation Agreement (ENA) with developer WIP-A, LLC, (a subsidiary of Watt Companies), allowing the project planned for the Metro- and County-owned lots at the Expo/Crenshaw station to take the next step forward.

“Wait, did they just deport the vendor?”

Leasing applications are generally treated with more care than concert tickets that go to the first ten callers that happen to be listening in. Not this time.

Before the connection cuts, I hear the plea underlying the panic that pushed him to this point: "Officer, I don't have nowhere else to go."

Construction begins in earnest in January, as do closures between 103rd St and downtown Long Beach