The Brief

A bill to clarify how schools should spend California’s $1 billion annual investment in arts education is headed for Gov. Gavin Newsom’s desk after legislators reached a compromise with a champion of the original initiative.

“I’m delighted to come to an agreement that will further arts education for kids in California,” said Austin Beutner, former superintendent of Los Angeles Unified and chief architect behind Proposition 28, California’s ambitious vision for music, theater, drama and fine art in K-12 schools.

The bill, AB 2440, seeks to streamline and clarify some of the finer points of Prop. 28, which voters overwhelmingly passed in 2022. Prop. 28 requires schools to use their new arts funding to supplement – not replace – existing programs. But schools’ confusion over Prop. 28 rules had led dozens of districts to return their arts money to the state, for fear of spending it incorrectly and getting sued.

That was the case with Los Angeles Unified, which Beutner sued in 2025, claiming the district cut existing arts programs and replaced them using Prop. 28 money – an allegation the district denies. That case is pending in Los Angeles Superior Court.

Clarifying Prop. 28

AB 2440, by Assemblymember Al Muratsuchi, a Democrat from Torrance, aims to allay schools’ apprehension about spending their arts money. Among other things, the bill more closely aligns Prop. 28 with the state’s existing arts framework, so schools would have an exact definition of what constitutes an arts class.

The bill also makes clear that schools can pool their Prop. 28 money and share arts teachers and other resources. And it addresses murky issues such as whether arts funding from outside groups, such as band boosters or nonprofits, counts as part of schools’ existing arts budgets.

Beutner originally balked at the bill when he learned of it, saying it “gutted” the intent of Prop. 28 by giving schools too much leeway in how they spent their money. He feared that more districts would use Prop. 28 money to backfill cuts to existing programs, rather than add to the overall arts offerings.

His opposition threatened to derail the bill, but he and the bill’s supporters reached a compromise after news coverage in CalMatters and other outlets. The new version of the bill contains the line: “The local education agency shall certify that all provisions of (Proposition 28) have been implemented at each of its school sites.”

‘This will mean more art’

That amended language was enough to satisfy Beutner, who withdrew his opposition in mid-August.

“My hope is that this causes districts to further reflect on whether they’re in compliance with Prop. 28,” Beutner said. “I’m delighted we were able to collaborate on this.”

The bill passed unanimously.

Kyle Holmes, director of statewide arts initiatives for California County Superintendents, a prominent supporter of Muratsuchi’s bill, said he’s thrilled it appears headed for passage.

“For kids, this will mean more art,” Holmes said. “That’s the heart of this bill, making sure schools have better access to Prop. 28 funds, giving schools the clarity they need to get funding to students.”

Prop. 28 still has a few obstacles, though. A big one is finding arts teachers. Some districts have had arts teacher vacancies for six months or more, as the existing supply hasn’t met the demand. A recent Stanford Research Institute study found a shortfall of 5,000 arts teachers in California.

“We’re seeing more and more colleges offering credential programs for the arts,” Holmes said. “But more young people need to know that if you’re interested in teaching the arts there’s a clear pathway to a high-paying career.”

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

Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass has been called to testify before Congress for an investigation into “potential waste, fraud, and abuse” of federal homelessness funding.

The House of Representatives Subcommittee on Delivering on Government Efficiency sent a letter to Bass Wednesday about its concerns with the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority, specifically “reports of blatant corruption” in LAHSA’s contracting process and "potential misallocation" of federal dollars.

“Homelessness in California is a long-standing problem, most notoriously in the Skid Row area of downtown Los Angeles,” the letter signed by chairman Tim Burchett states. “The problem has grown worse during your tenure as mayor.”

LAHSA told LAist it consistently welcomes audits and external assessments to continually improve its work, and none of the reviews have ever found evidence of fraud or corruption.

"Both internal and independent audits have recommended operational enhancements, and LAHSA has delivered demonstrable progress," a spokesperson for the agency said in an email. "This improvement is reflected in key performance indicators across vital system components, including interim housing occupancy and permanent housing utilization rates."

Bass’ office didn’t immediately respond to LAist’s request for comment.

What does the letter say?

The mayor is being asked to testify Sept. 15 on Capitol Hill for a hearing called "Fixing Fraud and Failure in Federally Funded Homelessness Services.”

The subcommittee is also asking for years worth of documents, including specific communications between the mayor’s office, LAHSA and the L.A. County Board of Supervisors going back to 2020.

Two of LAist’s articles were cited in the letter, including last year’s reporting on LAHSA’s former top official Va Lecia Adams Kellum.

LAist discovered through public records requests that Adams Kellum signed a $2.1 million contract and two other contract amendments with Upward Bound House, the Santa Monica-based nonprofit where her husband worked in senior leadership. A LAHSA spokesperson told LAist at the time that the contracts had inadvertently ended up in front of Adams Kellum to sign.

The backstory

LAHSA and the Trump administration are in a legal battle over federal homelessness funding, after the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development suspended LAHSA from federal grant activity in June, citing alleged mismanagement by the agency.

A federal judge granted a preliminary injunction on the suspension last month, with HUD Secretary Scott Turner vowing on social media to “fight this legally.”

A trial is scheduled to start in February.

While Labor Day is meant to celebrate your hard-earned time off from work, many people mark it with a barbecue — which often means manning the grill while everyone else relaxes with a plate and a cold beverage.

This year, let someone else handle the shopping, the setup and the cleanup — but you still get to do the grilling. We found three spots around L.A. and Orange County where the whole point is cooking your own meat, no backyard or grocery shopping required.

Venice Room (Monterey Park)

The Venice Room's vintage neon sign has marked the Monterey Park dive bar and steakhouse since 1955.

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Courtesy The Venice Room

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If you're from the San Gabriel Valley/East L.A. area, there's a good chance you know The Venice Room. Open since 1955, it's an old-school Italian-themed dive bar/steakhouse. In other words, heaven on earth.

The move is to order an NY strip or ribeye, and they'll hand you raw-cut beef, plus a potato and garlic bread, which you grill yourself on one of the gas grills in the back. Don't forget the seasoning at the prep bar, 'cause no one wants a bland steak.

Vibe: Think dim lighting, warm leatherette red booths, weekend karaoke and plenty of regulars — ex-bikers and retired cops rubbing elbows — belting out their own versions of War's "Slippin’ Into Darkness”.

Price: $25-35 for a steak dinner; "for 2" special with house wine runs about $75-79

Thien An Bo 7 Mon (Garden Grove)

Thien An Bo 7 Mon has served Little Saigon's bò 7 món for over three decades.

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Courtesy Thien An Bò 7 Món

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The Little Saigon institution, Thien An Bo 7 Mon, has built a reputation around bò 7 món, the Vietnamese "seven courses of beef" tasting menu. While that kind of menu is common at similar restaurants, what makes the version at Thien An Bo 7 Mon unique are the two courses that call for a hands-on approach.

That starts with bò nhúng dấm, where you cook thin slices of beef yourself in a simmering vinegar hot pot, along with bò nướng sa tế, lemongrass-marinated beef that you grill tableside on a small cast-iron grill. Just make sure to leave room for the remaining five courses.

A spread from Thien An Bo 7 Mon's bò 7 món, the "seven courses of beef" tasting menu that's made the Little Saigon spot a Garden Grove institution.

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Ben Wishner

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Courtesy Thien An Bo 7 Mon'

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Vibe: Family-owned since 1989, the warm, lively dining room is great for big groups and feeding a crowd. Expect long tables, lots of family celebrations and friendly, helpful staff who will walk you through each course if it's your first time.

Price: The seven-course beef runs around $21.99 per person; expect a full bill closer to $30 a head once you add sides and drinks, or go the extra mile and order their famous baked catfish (which starts around $50 for a whole fish).

Dollar Hits (Historic Filipinotown and West Covina)

Be transported to a street party in Manila.

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Courtesy Dollar Hits

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The Filipino street-food-stall-meets-buffet, which has been running since 2013, is one of my favorite L.A. dining experiences. Where else can you enjoy $1.50 skewers you've grilled yourself in a parking lot while gazing up at the DTLA skyline, contemplating these moments of greatness as an Angeleno?

Choices include pork, chicken, offal cuts, and items such as kwek-kwek (deep-fried, hard-boiled eggs) and longaniza. The move: grab skewers from inside, pay and then head out to the charcoal grills set up in the parking lot to cook them yourself.

Customers grill their own skewers over open flame on the sidewalk outside Dollar Hits.

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Brandon Killman

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LAist

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Vibe: Long communal tables, red plastic stools, charcoal smoke drifting through the parking lot, families and big groups crowding in late — it can feel like you've been transported to a street party in Manila.

Price: Most skewers run $1.50 each; easy to eat well for $10-15 a person, though it adds up fast if you're loading up a table for a crowd. The L.A. location also offers cafeteria-style lunch combos under $12 before 2 p.m.

This story first appeared on The LA Local.

If you were stopped by an LAPD gang unit officer in 2023, officers may have searched you or your property without consent, photographed you without a clear legal reason or failed to record the encounter.

An inspector general audit found failures to follow department protocols during traffic stops and other interactions the unit had with the public, including rules designed to protect people’s constitutional rights. 

“The review identified several areas in which compliance was not consistent,” Inspector General for the Los Angeles Police Commission Matthew Barragan reported. “These include consent searches, activation of body-worn and digital in-car video, photographing detainees, and maintaining gang photo books.”

The findings were presented Tuesday to the Los Angeles Board of Police Commissioners, where commissioners and community advocates questioned how the department can address the failures and repair public trust. The questions are particularly important for the gang unit, which works directly with community members and other organizations.

Department representatives noted that training has improved and complaints have declined since the data was collected in 2023.

What LAPD policy requires and what the audit found

Pretextual stops: Officers generally cannot use a minor traffic violation as a reason to investigate a more serious crime. Traffic stops are to enforce the vehicle code and to protect public safety. Officers are required to collect detailed data about traffic stops.

• What the audit found: Officers reported 60 of 300 stops as pretextual. The inspector general found a legitimate reason for all but four. The report found officers may have incorrectly recorded some additional stops inaccurately. 

Consent to search: Officers generally must get permission to search a person, property or vehicle without a warrant and tell people that consent is voluntary.

• What the audit found: Officers did not get consent in about 20% of encounters and failed to inform people that interactions were voluntary in about 75% of encounters.

Body and dash camera: Officers must activate their body cameras when starting or stopping an investigation, with some exceptions. 

• What the audit found: Body cameras were not properly activated in about 28% of encounters. Dash cameras were not activated in 40% of encounters. 

Gang investigations photos: Officers cannot force people to be photographed if they are not arrested or legally detained.

• What the audit found: About 83% of photos violated policy: 14 people were handcuffed, eight were threatened and eight did not consent. 

Detaining people: Officers must accurately record information about when they detain someone.

• What the audit found: Officers failed to record 61 detentions and incorrectly labeled 35% of recorded detentions as “curbside” when they were not.

Business card identification: Officers are required to give business cards to people they detain. 

• What the audit found: Officers failed to offer business cards to 97% of people who had no other way to identify the officers after an encounter.

Commissioners press LAPD over report

Commissioner Heather Aubry acknowledged that the report “details significant and some troubling deviations from department policy” that need to be addressed for the community to retain trust in the police department. 

“Commitment to future meaningful progress is essential not just to maintain and strengthen community police relations in neighborhoods particularly affected by gang activity but to ensure compliance with critical department policies and procedures, accountability and constitutional policing,” Aubry said. 

Commissioner Jeffrey Skobin expressed frustration over why the audit, conducted in 2024 on stops made in 2023, has taken so long to reach the commission and be presented publicly.

“We’re sitting here in September now of 2026 and we really don’t know what things look like today,” Skobin said.

How the audit was conducted

The inspector general reviewed a sample of 300 documented traffic stops from 2023 to see whether they involved any policy or procedure violations. 

The team searched more than 10,000 body-cam and dash-cam videos and found six encounters where stops were not reported at all by officers, a violation of policy. 

It also interviewed current and former members of the unit to learn more about how it operates. 

Police are required by California’s Racial and Identity Profiling Act to report detailed information about stops and detentions. Some of the encounters reviewed for the study extended beyond the stop’s original legal basis and resulted in a search. Others did not result in a citation. In almost all cases, officers did not provide a business card when they were required to.

A captain from the LAPD’s internal affairs department also told the commissioners that in 2023, the study year, there were 28 sustained complaints against gang unit officers due to body-cam and search policy violations.

The inspector general also questioned the unit’s practice of photographing suspected gang members and how those records are stored and shared. In 2020, the department ordered officers to stop submitting such photos to a state database after the submissions were accompanied by false information and reports.

History of scrutiny 

The LAPD temporarily disbanded the gang unit at its 77th Street Division earlier this year while investigating allegations that some officers there and at another division had failed to activate body-worn cameras and properly report traffic stops, both required by policy. 

Hamid Khan, an advocate with the Stop LAPD Spying Coalition, emphasized that misconduct among the police department’s gang units has happened for decades. 

He referenced the Rampart scandal from the late 1990s and 2000s, in which officers were found to have planted evidence and used excessive force against members of the public, leading to more than 100 criminal convictions being overturned.

For Khan, audits and reports by the commission can’t undo the irreparable harm that misconduct has done to the community’s trust in the police. 

“Recommendations are recommendations, they’re on paper,” Khan said, adding, “we have to acknowledge that the department is flawed by design.” 

Grace Zhang, another advocate with the coalition, echoed that skepticism. 

“I think that ultimately the OIG does not actually have any power in changing the ways that LAPD fundamentally operates, which is to cause harm in our communities, to criminalize Black and Brown people, to target poor people, to stalk women,” Zhang said.

LA Documenter Martin Romero contributed reporting to this story.

LA Documenters trains and pays LA residents to take notes at local government meetings around Los Angeles. You can find meeting notes and audio at losangeles.documenters.org

"Who here loves Bikini Kill?" asked the feminist organizer Sonya Passi on-stage at Olivia Rodrigo's Daisy Chain Fields festival in Irvine, Calif., on Saturday. Under a merciless, 94-degree sun, the crowd roared.

Passi had just identified herself as the founder of FreeFrom, a non-profit working to end gender-based violence by providing survivors with material support. It's one of 10 organizations benefitting from the $20 million raised by the inaugural edition of Rodrigo's one-day, women-led concert, which brought together the likes of Chappell Roan, The Breeders, Stevie Nicks and Doechii for an intergenerational audience of about 45,000. "Bikini Kill helped teach an entire generation that you don't wait for permission to be loud about what matters," Passi said of the '90s feminist punk icons, who now faced thousands of girls for whom the band's galvanic anthems, like "Double Dare Ya" and "Rebel Girl," were designed.

Frontwoman Kathleen Hanna didn't waste a second cutting through to them. "A lot of us feel like this government f****** hates us and wants us dead," she said before Bikini Kill played a note. "They don't give a s*** about anybody's healthcare. They don't care if we die in parking lots of curable illnesses. They don't care if our rights are taken away. They're ripping people off the streets. It makes it hard for me in my body sometimes to have a good time 'cause it's hard to turn it off. And I was thinking on the way here, what a gift to be able to play for you. What a gift Olivia has given all of us to do this festival." Then Bikini Kill instigated its intervention of Revolution Girl Style Now! as young women in T-shirts proclaiming "Girls to the Front" and "F*** AI" screamed.

With proceeds going to organizations like Center for Reproductive Rights and National Women's Law Center, the first Daisy Chain was an extension of Rodrigo's consistent outspokenness about both abortion access and her musical heroes, who've influenced the pop star's emotional clarity and ripping sound. For the artist's Guts tour in 2024, Rodrigo donated ticket proceeds to abortion funds and advocacy groups passed out emergency contraceptive pills to concertgoers. On the Daisy Chain grounds, branches of a Yoko Ono "Wish Tree" were tagged by attendees with hopes for universal healthcare and a free Palestine; one tag simply read "Girlhood is healing." A concrete walkway was painted with quotes from Angela Davis, Audre Lorde and Maya Angelou, a literal path paved by the achievements of historic women.

Two stages — the rock-oriented "Marigold," where flower crowns, crochet and at least one mohawk swirled in gentle circle pits; and the bigger "Dandelion," which leaned pop — were both visually framed by giant buttons evoking the aesthetic of 1970s women's liberation, bearing slogans like "Bans Off Our Bodies" and "Reproductive Rights Are Human Rights." Tattooed mothers with pink-haired daughters sprawled on blankets. A shockingly long line formed for a sparkly Rodrigo-branded Taco Bell pop-up thing ("You Look Pretty Pink for a Baja Blast"). T-shirts abounded honoring the late Dolly Parton, patron saint Fiona Apple and the campaign for Dykes Against Deportation, not to mention Lilith Fair, the hugely successful, all-women touring fest of the late-'90s that served as an explicit inspiration to Daisy Chain. Over on Dandelion in the early afternoon, Santigold played her spiky 2008 classic "L.E.S. Artistes," then beamed: "I can't believe she pulled this s*** off!"

Two stages were both visually framed by giant buttons evoking the aesthetic of 1970s women's liberation, bearing slogans like "Bans Off Our Bodies" and "Reproductive Rights Are Human Rights."

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Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times via Getty Imag

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Los Angeles Times

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By mid-afternoon the $250-a-ticket festival began to feel perilously overcrowded, with unmanageable lines for food and a concerning lack of shade in extreme heat — that the collective electric mood seemed to prevail anyway was a testament to the sure-mindedness of this women-and-girl-dominated setting. I wondered too going into Daisy Chain whether its stated political mission would feel sidelined or effectually woven into the day, and I was moved to see the latter in action. Attendees could brave yet another long line to enter the expo of booths for the fest's benefiting nonprofits, earning free merch if they visited every table. Organizers took the stages between most sets. "Where a woman lives should never determine if she lives," stated a rep from women's health nonprofit Jhpiego before introducing pop-rock singer-songwriter Rachel Chinouriri. The executive director of Black Mamas Matter Alliance explained the org's mission to end maternal mortality before declaring, "everybody deserves healthcare and it is our human right," then joyfully proclaimed: "Now give it up for Doechii!" Daisy Chain's mission clearly incited artists to speak out onstage, too — the young, heavy rock band Die Spitz (its drummer in corpse paint) succinctly punctuated its set, growling, "Free Palestine, f*** ICE, thank you Olivia!"

During Bikini Kill's blazing set, Kathleen Hanna directly addressed the young people at Daisy Chain and told them to keep teaching the older people in their lives — "We have so much that we can learn from one another," she insisted — and to keep their diaries, which constitute their art, and which will create the world. A participatory spirit was stoked, too, by an exhibition, "Grrrl Germs: Punk feminism goes viral 1991-2026," curated by the artist Astria Suparak, presenting artifacts of DIY feminist punk with blown-up flyers, manifestos, zines, and listening stations (it also functioned as a desperately needed defacto cooling center). I spoke with two young women who were learning about riot grrrl's history for the first time and pointed out its relevance in an age of social media self-commodification and Ozempic. "Younger girls need to be exposed to this," said Claire Hendrick, 24. "You can read about empowerment, but it's so different when you're with people in community, actually doing it and being it."

When Lilith Fair founder Sarah McLachlan guested during Rodrigo's headlining set, it felt like a kind of act of historical justice, too — like a continuum strengthened. "Without Lilith Fair there would be no Daisy Chain," said Rodrigo, who was filmed for a 2025 Lilith documentary about a year before she began plotting to revive it in her own image. Rodrigo and McLachlan harmonized radiantly on "Building a Mystery" and "Angel," the latter of which McLachlan dedicated to Parton, who she called "the biggest philanthropist in the history of country music." Rodrigo reminded the crowd that McLachlan created Lilith during an era when the music industry insisted that two women could not co-headline a show or be played back-to-back on the radio; the tour's overwhelming success upended those bigoted notions.

During Bikini Kill's blazing set, Kathleen Hanna directly addressed the young people at Daisy Chain.

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Monica Schipper/Getty Images

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Getty Images North America

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Lilith was a festival that Sinead O'Connor called "very healing," that Emmylou Harris called "heaven," that Erykah Badu likened to a shared frequency changed. But after its run from 1997 to 1999, the misogynist backlash was instantaneous. Like Parton, Lilith Fair endured years in which its legacy was diminished to a punchline by some in the media (and maybe I would have written Lilith off as too mainstream in its day, too, when certain intellectual DIY bands would never have shared space at a festival with Starbucks-backed singer-songwriters). I personally came of age among a patriarchal, 2000s music industry that seemed hellbent on siphoning women's power. In hindsight, measuring the scale of the blowback to '90s cultural feminism feels like a reminder, in a sense, that equity for women at any level of our world, when not rigorously defended, risks disappearing.

Exiting the festival, I noticed the enormous number of girls carrying copies of the pink, stapled Daisy Chain Fields Zine. It was available at the merch stands for a suggested donation, filled with interviews, essays, and archival ephemera — a scan from Breeders bassist Josephine Wiggs' 1992 journal; a treatise from writer Rayne Fisher-Quann about female friendship that critiques pop-feminism and quotes Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci — plus instructions on how to create your own pocket-sized pamphlet. An intro letter from Rodrigo credits Hanna with inspiring the zine and thanks her for contributing all of the questions posed to the artists, like "What is your favorite protest song or song about women's power?" (Mitski wrote a whole list, including Malvina Reynolds' brilliant "It Isn't Nice") or, "What is something you like about yourself?" I liked imagining young people posing these questions back onto themselves, leaving with something tangible, with the manifold futures of this imperfect gateway and with power in their own hands.
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