The Brief

“You’re into lowriding, right?”

It’s a question multidisciplinary artist Jacqueline Valenzuela says she hears often. So often, in fact, it makes her laugh.

“It’s literally my life,” Valenzuela recently told How To LA host Brian De Los Santos. “I don't know how to better explain it. It's merged into my art practice. I have a car. My studio's in an auto body shop. Like, I can't escape it.”

The car is a 1975 Cadillac Eldorado that Valenzuela has named, “La Playgirl.”

Jacqueline Valenzuela with her lowrider "La Playgirl." Valenzuela highlights women and the LGBTQ+ community in lowriding culture through her artwork and the car club she helped found.

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“She’s hot pink, which I always think is funny because I hated pink growing up and now I have a hot pink car," Valenzuela said. "It’s very much playing on the idea of an alter ego, like a woman that’s in charge.”

Elevating women

One area in which Valenzuela has taken charge is highlighting other women like her in the lowrider community. Like her friend Ashley — a nail technician who does lowrider-inspired nails. Or another friend, Monique, who she’s painted three times and whose son now wants to pursue an arts degree, like Jacqueline did.

Jacqueline Valenzuela is a Chicana artist and founder of the Prophets Car Club.

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Valenzuela's workspace at her studio/auto shop (The Kolor Studio) in the City of Industry.

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“For so long women in the [lowrider] space were just looked at as eye candy or like models,” Valenzuela said. “And yeah, some women do own cars and model with their cars. That's amazing. [But] there's also women that don't model with their cars and sometimes they're not given that platform, so I strive to do that through my art practice.”

Her studio space in the city of Industry, which she shares with her fiancé Mark Hocutt, is also partly an auto shop. In the front is an office and a space for Jacqueline to paint on canvases, a panel for a hand-painted mural on a car, or to work on an installation. In the back is the auto shop, with classic cars that Mark — a custom car painter — is working on.

“Whenever I need inspiration I literally just walk back there and I’m like, Oh I can paint this,” Valenzuela said. “Sometimes it’ll be something as simple as seeing tires that are arranged a certain way and I’ll want to paint that.”

Her art, her car

She describes her style of art as “hybrid” with realistic depictions of people, cars, and places mixed in with more abstract elements — like the use of pixels and bold color choices.

A painting by Jaqueline Valenzuela.

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“If you look at my art, you see that I like almost an off putting amount of color, and that's what I like on cars too,” she said. “I want to see patterns that don't make sense together or that look weird together.”

And while the combination of her love of lowriders and fine art makes sense to her, it’s not always obvious to others.

“It’s funny that in the art world, sometimes I'm not taken seriously because of the lowrider aspect, but then in the lowrider world, sometimes I'm not taken seriously because of the fine art aspect,” she said.

While it used to bother her, Valenzuela said, it doesn’t anymore. And the people that know her know that she has real cred in both worlds.

She gained the confidence to pursue fine art as a career while getting her art degree at Cal State Long Beach, and her work is now in galleries and museums. (Currently, she has a solo show at Arts at Blue Roof in South L.A.)

She also grew up in Whittier, where she was around lowriders all the time. And she took a three-year hiatus from fine art to work in an auto shop painting lowriders.

Inclusion matters

Valenzuela and Hocutt both also co-founded — along with their friend Jesse Jaramillo — a car club called Prophets that welcomes women and people who identify as LGBTQ+.

Valenzuela helped found the Prophets Car Club which encourages women and LGBTQ+ membership.

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Samanta Helou Hernandez

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LAist

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Details from Valenzuela's lowrider "La Playgirl."

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Samanta Helou Hernandez

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“There's still lowrider car clubs that have laws and bylaws that don't allow women to even sit in on their car club meetings,” Valenzuela said. “There is still a lot of that point of view that, ‘Oh, you're queer? That's not normal.’”

“I feel like it's so embedded in [Chicano] culture that unfortunately it's gone into the lowrider community as well," Valenzuela added. "That's why we thought it was important to carve out a space for ourselves and make sure that people that we love and really care for feel safe in the space that we're like making for ourselves in the lowrider community.”

To see more of Jacqueline Valenzuela’s work, check out the recent special, all-female edition of Lowrider Magazine. 

She also has an exhibition open through June 1 at Arts at Blue Roof in South L.A. and this fall will have her first solo museum show at the Bakersfield Museum of Art.

More than two dozen state historic parks are free through the end of the year in honor of Juneteenth — and the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

Gov. Gavin Newsom announced the free “special edition Historian Passport,” which typically costs $50, as a rebuke to President Donald Trump’s attempts to “rewrite the past,” according to a news release by the governor’s office.

Since his inauguration, Trump has ordered staff working at all National Park Service locations to remove any content that casts Americans in a negative light from parks, monuments and memorials.

“California doesn’t hide from hard truths and uncomfortable history — in fact, we embrace it and learn from it,” Newsom wrote.

Until July 6, Californians can download the state historic park pass for free and use it as many times as they want through the end of 2026. The pass gives free entry to state historic parks for up to four people.

The Historian Passport grants entry to more than 30 state historic parks, including parks like Olompali and Malakoff Diggins which, rather than just providing outdoor recreation, also have an educational emphasis on the state’s history.

Jack London State Historic Park in Napa Valley, California.

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Many of these parks tell the story of the state’s cultural or indigenous history, from missions and museums to temples and the site that sparked the California Gold Rush.

Newsom made a similar move to make state parks free for Martin Luther King Jr. Day this year, in response to Trump’s decision to eliminate the holiday from the list of fee-free days at national parks across the country, replacing it with his birthday on Flag Day.

How to get your free Historian Passport for up to four people

You must make an account with the state’s reservation site ReserveCalifornia.com to obtain a Historian Pass. Then, visit the site’s Advance Passes page and select “Special Edition Historian Passport” from the dropdown menu, which will show as costing $0. No payment information is required.

After checking out, you’ll receive an email with an attached PDF version of your Historian Passport.

The state recommends you print off this PDF to present at any California state historic park for free entry, although you may just be able to show the image on your phone too.

Bear in mind that cellphone service may be poor at many state historic parks, so it’s worth screenshotting the PDF to save it as an image on your phone in case you’re unable to search your email.

Looking for free entry to other state parks that aren’t included in the Historian Passport? Consider checking out a parks pass from your local library, which provides these passes as part of the California State Library Parks Pass program.

KQED’s Carly Severn contributed to this report.

Nearly six months after an off-duty Immigration and Customs Enforcement officer shot and killed an armed man on New Year’s Eve in L.A., authorities have yet to finish their investigation into the incident.

Brian Palacios has been identified in court records as the officer who killed Keith Porter Jr., 43, at a Northridge apartment complex where both men lived. Those records are filed to a contentious custody case between Palacios’ girlfriend and her ex-husband, who told the court in a successful application for a restraining order that he feared for his safety and the safety of his children after Palacios harassed and threatened him.

Authorities previously have said Palacios is still employed by ICE, and court records responding to the restraining order show he has recently been placed on administrative duty. ICE officials did not respond to questions about his current status.

Stacie Halpern, an attorney representing Palacios, has not responded to calls or an emailed request to make her client available for an interview. Halpern has previously told news media her client shot Porter in self defense.

The context

Porter’s death came just over a week before ICE agents in Minnesota killed Renee Nicole Good, 37. Seventeen days later, ICE agents killed Alex Pretti, 37. The shootings of Good and Pretti, who were protesting ICE enforcement in their city, were captured on video, made international headlines and spurred Congressional inquiries.

The killing of Porter was not captured on video, did not take place during a protest and did not lead to the same level of outcry. Like with Good and Pretti, the initial law enforcement characterization of Porter’s shooting has come under scrutiny.

The Los Angeles Police Department opened an investigation shortly after the shooting. LAPD officials told the Board of Police Commissioners on June 2 they expected to finish their investigation and present findings to the Los Angeles District Attorney last week.

Instead, the district attorney’s office said the LAPD is still looking into the case.

"Our office has been briefed on this case and LAPD informed us there is further investigation to conduct before presenting a case to our office for filing consideration," Venusse D. Dunn, a spokesperson for L.A. County District Attorney Nathan Hochman, said Monday in an email responding to LAist asking about the status of the case.

Jamal Tooson, an attorney with the law firm Lessem, Newstat & Tooson, who is representing Porter’s family, called the delay “alarming, to say the least.”

Initial accounts of the shooting

Days after Keith Porter, Jr. was killed there, community members gather at a vigil organized by Black Lives Matter-LA outside the Northridge apartment complex where he lived.

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According to statements from federal officials, Palacios was off duty the night of the shooting. Federal officials and Palacios’ attorney have said he was acting in self defense when he shot and killed Porter. Police said a rifle was recovered at the scene.

In a statement released to the L.A. Times shortly after the shooting, a Department of Homeland Security spokesperson said Palacios, who was not named at the time, as having “bravely responded to an active shooter situation at his apartment complex” and was “forced to defensively use his weapon and exchanged gunfire with the shooter.”

Porter’s friends have said he was shooting a rifle into the air to celebrate the new year. The LAPD, which has worked for years to reduce gunfire on the holiday, calls the practice a “deadly New Year’s tradition in our city.”

“If it actually happened the way the officer said it did, it would have been an open and shut case,” Tooson said.

Tooson said he has witness testimony contradicting federal officials' version of events — specifically the claim that gunfire had been exchanged — and submitted a tort claim on May 11 to the federal government on behalf of the Porter family. The government has 45 days to respond, before the family can pursue further legal action.

Porter was born and raised in Compton, according to a neighbor, Jieun Ko, who wrote a remembrance on Substack. Ko called her friend “diligent and hardworking.” He had two daughters, aged 10 and 20, when he was killed.

Why Porter’s family has questioned that account

Franceola Armstrong, Keith Porter. Jr.'s mother, embraces her cousin Nakeda Phillips days after he son was shot and killed.

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The claim letter sent to the federal government says that Porter was “attempting to peacefully return to his residence” when he was killed. The letter claims Palacios did not personally observe Porter firing a weapon, and that he failed to use de-escalation tactics before opening fire. “The use of deadly force was unjustified, unreasonable and without legal cause,” the letter reads.

"Although Mr. Porter was armed," the letter said, "he never posed an imminent threat to Agent Palacios or the public."

Tooson told LAist he interviewed two witnesses shortly after the shooting whose description of the shooting differ from what Palacios’ attorney and federal officials have described.

According to Tooson, both witnesses to the interaction between Porter and Palacios said they did not hear Palacios identify himself as a member of law enforcement. They also said they heard just three gun shots.

The autopsy report from the L.A. County Medical Examiner says Porter was shot three times.

If the two had exchanged gunfire — as federal officials claim — Tooson said the witnesses would have heard more shots.

“It’s not possible. If he was shot three times, they’re going to hear more than three shots,” Tooson said.

The witnesses also told Tooson the shots sounded like they came from the same weapon.

Tooson said he first spoke to the witnesses when canvassing the apartment complex the day after the shooting and that one of the witnesses provided footage from a Ring camera to LAPD that captured audio of the shooting.

Representatives for LAPD, ICE and DHS have not responded to requests for comment.

At a news conference in January, Tooson, who said the shooting "could be race related, and certainly a hate crime," publicly called on Attorney General Rob Bonta to investigate Porter's killing.

Tooson told LAist he sent a letter and spoke to a representative at the Attorney General’s office but has not heard back.

Tooson said his main goal is to get transparency for Porter’s family. “They don’t have any other information other than the story that’s been shared, and it’s not adding up.”

Troubling allegations surface in custody dispute 

Palacios was first identified as the off-duty ICE agent who killed Porter by the Los Angeles Times in January based on court records filed in an unrelated custody dispute between Palacios’ girlfriend and her ex-husband.

That custody dispute has continued, with a judge granting a temporary restraining order against Palacios on May 22 that barred him from contacting his girlfriend’s ex-husband or their children. Omar Escorcia, the ex-husband, asked for the restraining order because, he told the court, Palacios threatened to send ICE agents to his home in a phone call on April 30.

Escorcia recorded the call and submitted that recording and transcripts to the court as evidence. Palacios separately recorded that conversation and a subsequent call, and also submitted it to the court.

According to the transcripts (LAist also reviewed the audio file), Palacios said during the conversation that he believed Escorcia leaked his name and involvement in the Porter shooting to activists.

“Because at this point, my agency’s going to go after you for conspiracy for what you did,” Palacios said, according to the transcript.

“Threats of violence and abuse of power were directed toward me and my family,” Escorcia wrote in the petition for the restraining order.

Escorcia added that Palacios “gives the impression that he is untouchable no matter who he hurts.”

In his petition, Escorcia states: “Palacios admitted to having murdered his neighbor on 12/31/2025 while telling me he would use his position as a federal agent to come after me at my home and to make criminal charges against me.”

Palacios has denied making any admission to Escorcia about the Porter shooting. He also denies making threats.

In February 2025, a court barred Palacios from contact with his girlfriend’s children, Escorcia wrote in the petition.

“The court was told about domestic violence by Palacios and his use of homophobic, racial, and abusive language,” Escorcia wrote. Palacios, in his response, said those allegations were investigated and not substantiated — and shared findings from social workers.

The 2025 orders are permanent, so Palacios violated them by threatening to send agents to his home, Escorcia wrote.

In the call Escorcia recorded, Palacios warns him that two agents are going to come to his home to interview Escorcia about his alleged sharing of Palacios' name, adding, "make sure no one's there that doesn't have papers, OK?"

Palacios denied Escorcia’s allegations

Palacios has denied Escorcia's allegations that he was threatening. He also denied the allegation that he admitted to killing anyone, in a response filed to the court on June 9.

In the response, Palacios wrote that Escorcia has “never liked that (Palacios) was in law enforcement.”

Palacios alleged that Escorcia has shared images on social media encouraging “vigilante justice” against him. He also wrote that he has had to move due to threats and harassment and said allegations of domestic violence and use of racist language were investigated back in 2025 and not substantiated by multiple agencies.

He wrote that the April 30th call was not a threat against Escorcia. “At that time I wanted him to understand that what he was threatening was a continuation of an ongoing investigation into his attempt to expose my location to the public,” Palacios wrote.

Palacios submitted another transcript of a follow-up call to the court, in which he specifically references Escorcia's mother. In his response to the restraining order, he states he held "no animosity toward [Escorcia] or those in his family, including his mother who has always been nice and polite to me... I was simply stating a fact as individuals need to be documented to be in the country."

Court records show Palacios surrendered six firearms on June 11 as part of the May 2026 restraining order.

According to records submitted to the court, ICE temporarily suspended Palacios’ authorization to carry a firearm on May 29, prompted by the May 22 restraining order. The letter states that Palacios will be reassigned to “work that is administrative in nature.” It also states that the restriction does not constitute a disciplinary action.

What's next

• After LAPD presents its findings, the district attorney may decide to pursue criminal charges against Palacios or to find the shooting was justified.
• Tooson said he expects the federal government to reject the Porter family's tort claim. At which point, the family will pursue a civil claim, Tooson said.

Clive Davis, the record company lawyer who became one of the music industry’s most powerful figures, launching or resurrecting the careers of such superstars as Janis Joplin, Whitney Houston, Carlos Santana and Alicia Keys, has died, his family confirmed. He was 94.

Earlier this year, Davis was hospitalized following an upper respiratory issue and was released a few days later. His death, in his Manhattan apartment, was confirmed by his publicist Aliza Rabinoff, who also shared a statement from his family.

“To the world, our father was the iconic music legend whose vision, instincts, and relentless pursuit of excellence shaped the soundtrack of countless lives. He discovered, mentored, and championed the greatest artists in modern music history, leaving an indelible mark on culture that will endure for generations,” the statement read.

Unlike other record moguls whose influence waned as they got older, Davis’ might only seemed to grow over his career, which spanned multiple genres and labels. Into his 80s, he was directing the careers of everyone from Barry Manilow to “American Idol” winners Carrie Underwood and Kelly Clarkson.

His success stories were staggering, with Houston a crowning achievement and devastating tragedy: Davis signed her to his Arista record label when she was just a teen and turned her into America’s reigning pop princess.

Houston racked up multiple No. 1 hits and became one of the top-selling artists in pop history before drug abuse hobbled her career. She died in a Los Angeles hotel room in 2012, just hours before she was to appear at the annual pre-Grammy Awards gala hosted by Davis, who had been convinced she was turning her life around.

“Maybe I should have been more skeptical,” Davis wrote in his 2013 memoir, “The Soundtrack of My Life,” “but I’ve always been optimistic, and I felt hopeful. It felt like old times.”

He also launched the career of multi-platinum, multiple-Grammy winner Keys — and was quick to note other talents he signed, including Joplin and Billy Joel, Blood Sweat & Tears and other “all-timers,” as he so often put it.

“I signed Patti Smith, the great Renaissance woman ... I signed Lou Reed ... I signed the Grateful Dead,” he proudly touted in an interview with The Associated Press in 1999.

But Davis didn’t simply have an eye for new talent — he also knew how to keep veterans relevant decades after their first hit. Aretha Franklin, whose legend was made at Atlantic Records, flourished in her later years at Arista, as did Luther Vandross, who made his last albums for another Davis label, J Records.

It was Davis who conceived of the 1999 album “Supernatural,” which paired guitar god Santana with some of the day’s hottest talents. The record won a record-tying eight Grammys and gave Santana more success than he had ever enjoyed in his decades-long career.

He had middle aged star Rod Stewart trade in his rock hits for standards from “The Great American Songbook.” The album, released in 2003, sold millions and was so successful it spawned four titles in all.

Davis didn’t always make the right choices; he turned down a chance to sign up Meatloaf. And he and his collaborators didn’t always agree. He and producer David Foster fought bitterly over the arrangement for Houston’s all-time hit, a cover of Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You.”

And Manilow strongly objected to recording “I Write the Songs,” noting that he didn’t even write the song, a Bruce Johnston ballad that became a signature hit for Manilow, who would have similar latter-day success mining the music of the 1950s, 60s and ‘70s.

“He’s just brilliant at picking ideas he thinks the public will connect,” raved Manilow, who had worked with Davis since he was a budding singer at Columbia Records.

Davis also had his struggles. Though he became president of Columbia Records in 1967 after joining the label in 1960 as a lawyer, by 1973 he was gone in a bitter fallout. The label accused him of mismanagement of funds and he was fired. Although Davis says he was later cleared, it wasn’t the end of his problems; he later was indicted on tax evasion charges, pleaded guilty to one count and had to pay a $10,000 fine.

However, Davis would declare victory: He says Columbia gave him the money to start Arista to resolve the dispute, and the label would become a huge success with artists like country superstars Brooks & Dunn, sassy R&B group TLC, Babyface, Houston, Franklin and others.

The label had huge success with a debut act — Milli Vanilli. But the male pop duo would become the embarrassment of the industry when, after winning a Grammy, it was revealed that they weren’t actually singing their songs (Davis blamed the debacle on the label’s European division, which he said signed them; the group was later stripped of its best new artist Grammy).

In 1999, as Arista was celebrating its 25th anniversary, Davis faced another crisis: The label’s then-parent company, BMG Entertainment, a division of German media conglomerate Bertelsmann, wanted him to retire; most of its executives were eased out by 60, and Davis was in his mid-60s.

In 2000, despite support from his superstar roster, the company ousted him in favor of producer and songwriter Antonio “L.A.” Reid, who would later become chairman of Island/Def Jam.

However, instead of severing its ties with Davis, BMG helped him launch J Records in what BMG has described as the largest record company startup ever created. Vandross was one of his initial artists, along with forgettable acts like the boy-band O-Town.

J Records was a success from the start, though, and only grew in stature with the arrival of a young singer named Keys, a piano-playing singer-songwriter with powerful pipes and dramatic R&B songs. Keys’ albums would go on to sell millions and win several Grammys.

His influence grew even more when Davis was tapped for BMG’s U.S. division.

He became a key backer of the careers of the winners of “American Idol,” guiding many albums to platinum status. The show’s link to Sony BMG came through a deal between Davis and 19 Recordings Unlimited, the label managed by “Idol” creator Simon Fuller.

In 2007, however, Davis disagreed with the direction of Clarkson’s “My December,” and she publicly criticized him. The album was a flop, and she later apologized.

In 2008, Sony BMG replaced Davis as chairman and chief executive officer of the BMG label group, giving him the title of chief creative officer.

Davis, who was born on April 4, 1932, had four children. In his memoir, he confirmed longtime rumors that he was bisexual and had been living with a man in recent years.

“Do I feel I could have been similarly attracted to a woman?” Davis wrote. “The answer is yes.”

His family shared a loving statement on Monday.

“Through every chapter of his remarkable life, family remained Clive’s greatest pride and deepest joy. Today, we celebrate not only a towering figure whose influence changed music forever, but the man who led our family with grace, generosity, and kindness. We will miss him greatly, cherish him always, and carry his love with us for the rest of our lives.”

Former AP writer Nekesa Mumbi Moody was the main writer of this obituary.

Across California, every incarcerated individual taking a college course now has a tool those of us on the outside take for granted: a laptop.

In the past three years, the prison system spent $23.2 million to distribute 30,000 laptops to all incarcerated students. Almost half of those went to the 13,000 inmates enrolled in community college, who are increasingly doing their coursework online.

The growth of online learning marks a shift away from correspondence courses, where inmates receive assignments in physical packets, fill them out, and mail them back to colleges, with limited feedback. While some community colleges still offer those types of courses, the laptops are starting to replace the packets.

Meanwhile, students and faculty alike debate whether online courses are as effective as in-person courses. Some teachers say online options reduce disruptions when students have to miss class due to court hearings or prison lockdowns. Some students say they prefer in-person courses because they can build invaluable connections. In either mode of learning, inmates say using laptops helps them prepare for life on the outside.

“The more we understand about today's world, the better we'll be equipped to get out into the workforce as things continue to change,” incarcerated student Richard Moye said in an interview. “We don’t want to get left behind. ... Tech literacy is of the utmost importance behind prison walls.”

Online courses could increase enrollment 

In 2024, the state Legislative Analyst’s Office recommended improving the California Community Colleges’ prison education program, called Rising Scholars. The Legislature’s spending and policy adviser recommended addressing limited classroom space by offering more online courses. The office also suggested Rising Scholars prioritize enrollment for students still pursuing their first degrees, to allow for greater student access.

Today, 104 of the 116 community colleges in the state partner with prisons to provide courses and degree programs. According to data tracked by the community colleges, over 21,000 courses took place in prisons during fall 2025. Twenty colleges offer courses in person, with a faculty member commuting to the prison to teach the course. The rest teach courses either online or, with diminishing frequency, via mail correspondence, according to the California Community Colleges Chancellor's Office.

The true number of online versus mail correspondence courses taken by incarcerated community college students is unknown. While community colleges have the option to track courses using the data labels “correspondence” or “text one-way,” there is no consistency as far as which ones they use, according to the Chancellor's Office.

In-person classes can be difficult to get into because of enrollment caps and limited classroom space. The average in-person course generally ranges from 18 to 40 students. Many colleges enroll students on a first-come, first-served basis, enabling people on their second or third degree to “crowd out” those on their first degree, according to Orlando Sanchez Zavala, a policy analyst for the Legislative Analyst’s Office.

The Project Rebound study room at Cal State Northridge on May 26, 2026.

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Sanchez Zavala said prioritizing enrollment for people pursuing their first degree would have the most impact on lowering recidivism rates.

Leaving prison with a degree can make parolees eligible for a wider range of jobs, and more prepared to enter the workforce, reducing their likelihood of reoffending. According to the prison system’s recidivism report, during the 2018-2019 fiscal year, those who earned an associate’s degree while incarcerated had a 8.5% conviction rate in the three years after getting out, compared to a 41.9% conviction rate for all individuals released that same year.

Sanchez Zavala also suggested utilizing correspondence and online classes to open more courses with lower enrollment caps, allowing more incarcerated people to access community college.

Incarcerated students face multiple barriers

For in-person courses, a major challenge is finding classroom space in prisons. Though prisons have classrooms, they are also used for other programming and group meetings. Sometimes, classes take place in gyms or dining areas.

Joseph Bruno Martinez, 40, said he struggled to get into classes when he was incarcerated at high-security facilities, where institution-wide lockdowns sometimes interrupted learning.

Formerly incarcerated student Garret Eiferman, 56, said he found that prison correctional officers were not always amenable to helping incarcerated students complete degrees. He had to build relationships with officers so he could use the classrooms past 7 p.m., and, at times, even convince officers to allow his classmates to leave their buildings to attend class.

Graduate student Garret Eiferman at Cal State Northridge campus on May 26, 2026.

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He cited other obstacles to his instruction as well, including out-of-date textbooks with the hard covers ripped off for safety reasons, little to no feedback on his correspondence coursework, and challenges balancing work and other prison programs with classes.

Though he didn’t take any online-only courses when he was in prison, Eiferman said he can see the benefits for students as they grapple with the obstacles he went through trying to take in-person courses.

Online courses improve tech literacy 

The new laptops offer much to the inmates: education, enrichment, and — for those who will go free one day — future employment.

For Moye, online education is important for technology literacy. Moye, 44, has been incarcerated for 16 years and takes courses online and in-person through Solano Community College at California Medical Facility in Vacaville.

Moye said a lack of emphasis on tech literacy in prisons is a “disservice to this community” as jobs on the outside require applicants to be skilled at using computers and other tech. Online learning is closing this gap for incarcerated people.

Students and teachers told CalMatters they now complete much of their coursework and grading through the online learning site Canvas, which is used across the state's higher education systems for assigning and submitting work, as well as messaging between students and instructors.

Isela Ocegueda is the vice president of instruction at Coastline College and teaches an online English course to incarcerated students. She says using Canvas streamlines an incarcerated student's transition from school on the inside to school on the outside. At her college, 80% of instruction is online.

Until 2023, Coastline College provided courses in prisons through mail-in correspondence. The college calls its new online format “Canvas-supported correspondence.”

Ocegueda says the online format allows instructors to offer more creative assignments and thorough feedback. Her first assignment to her English class last semester was a journal entry, in which she asked students to introduce themselves and tell her how she can help them throughout the class.

The class final is a research paper, on which Ocegueda can give instant feedback and edits to students who can turn in multiple drafts, which was nearly impossible through snail-mail correspondence.

“Imagine just trying to receive essays in the mail and then make your corrections and then send them back,” Ocegueda said. “That was really hard to do in the mail version of correspondence. ... Canvas-supported correspondence allows more for that writing process to actually happen.”

Obstacles to online instruction

While major improvements to Wi-Fi connectivity and research materials for inmate coursework have been made, there are still obstacles. Wi-Fi access varies from prison to prison, and it can often take up to a week for students to get reading materials approved by prison librarians for them to access.

Students at Pelican Bay State Prison in Del Norte County and California Institution for Women in San Bernardino County say they can’t access Canvas in their cells due to a lack of Wi-Fi, while students at Folsom State Prison and San Quentin Rehabilitation Center say they are able to complete coursework from their cells, where the Wi-Fi is strong. According to a state prison system spokesperson, inmates have Wi-Fi access in the housing units at all but four state prisons. All prisons have Wi-Fi in education areas and classrooms, though signal strength may vary, according to the spokesperson.

Some students pursuing bachelor’s degrees in prisons reported to CalMatters last year ongoing challenges with Wi-Fi and limited access to research materials, with some wishing they could do a simple Google search for information.

Solano College English professor Ben Brookeshire’s main teaching challenge is delay in students accessing what he calls the “information space.” Some documents his students might need to explore on digital research libraries require approval from prison librarians.

In-person courses boost engagement

Eiferman, now a Cal State Northridge graduate student, did most of his in-prison coursework via correspondence courses from Palo Verde and Coastline colleges from 2009 to 2019. Eiferman holds an associate in arts, an associate in science and a business certificate from his time incarcerated. He was also pursuing a U.S. history degree when he paroled in 2020.

“The bulk of my interaction with professors during the degree completion was very minimal. It's distance learning, so that means it's all done with an envelope and a stamp, and feedback was never a thing,” Eiferman said. “It was extremely challenging to transfer out here to the university, thinking that I knew stuff that I didn't or stuff that I knew that needed to be retaught and relearned correctly.”

Garret Eiferman, a graduate student, uses one of the computers inside the Project Rebound study room at Cal State Northridge on May 26, 2026.

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Jules Hotz

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CalMatters

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Eiferman took his first in-person course through Bakersfield College at Golden State Community Correctional Facility, a medium-security prison in the southern San Joaquin Valley. It was a math class, a subject he had always struggled with, but Eiferman said he had “aha moments” and was even able to help teach his fellow students. He said he took people “under his wings” to conduct “spirit building” and encourage them to stay in class.

Moye said in-person classes allow students to more clearly understand teachers’ expectations. They also offer group interaction, peer support, tutoring and collaboration on class assignments.

Data tracked by the community college system indicates a 77% success rate for internet-based and correspondence instruction, and an 85% success rate for in-person instruction, for incarcerated students in spring 2025. “Success” means the student earned a C or higher, or a “pass” in non-letter graded courses. Incarcerated students have a success rate 10% higher than community college students overall in in-person courses.

“I’m a fan of in-person learning,” Moye said. “That's my favorite style of learning, because to me, it resembles most what's going on in society. If we're trying to prepare incarcerated men and women for society, we have to have it look as much like society as possible.”

Brookeshire said he has seen his peers debate the merits of online versus in-person courses in the prisons. He said he knows online courses are inevitable, but he strictly teaches in person because it’s the best way for him to connect with students.

“I'm very passionate,” Brookshire said. “I really believe there's magic in a classroom, and I really believe that face-to-face instruction is irreplaceable.”

Joe Garcia contributed to this story.

Ella Carter-Klauschie is a contributor with the College Journalism Network, a collaboration between CalMatters and student journalists from across California. CalMatters higher education coverage is supported by a grant from the College Futures Foundation.

This article was originally published on CalMatters and was republished under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license.