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The Brief

The most important stories for you to know today
  • After a semester, LAUSD sees some change
    A hand places a phone into a box with slits for the phones to fit into them.
    A Venice High School staff member stores a student’s phone as they arrive to campus on Wednesday, Feb. 19, 2025.

    Topline:

    Four months after the Los Angeles Unified School District banned cellphones in its schools, the general consensus among students, teachers and administrators is that there are fewer visible phones during the school day and more interaction between students.

    The backstory: LAUSD enacted a full-day cellphone ban on Feb. 18. The policy also applies to smartwatches and earbuds. Board members cited rising concerns about the effect of phones and social media on youth mental health, bullying and distraction from classroom instruction when they approved the ban in June 2024.

    A new challenge: Venice High School math teacher Jessica Quindel said she noticed an immediate change in her students on the day the ban started in February. “It was almost like you had given them a sugar high; they were bouncing off the walls,” Quindel said. She offered stress balls and other fidget toys to occupy students' hands. “It's a challenge, but it's a good one because it means that kids are not looking at their phones, and instead they're trying to learn,” Quindel said.

    The student perspective: “ People still bring their phones to school, they just don't get caught,” said Sophia, a Venice High sophomore. “The more rules you enforce, the sneakier people get. The more you imply that you don't trust students, the more they give you a reason not to trust them.”

    Go deeper: Listen to the latest episode of Imperfect Paradise on Spotify and Apple Podcasts.

    Read on ... to hear more from students and parents.

    Four months after the Los Angeles Unified School District banned cellphones in its schools, the general consensus among students, teachers and administrators is that there are fewer visible phones during the school day and more interaction between students.

    Venice High School math teacher Jessica Quindel said she noticed an immediate change in her students on the day the ban started in February.

    “It was almost like you had given them a sugar high, they were bouncing off the walls,” Quindel said.

    She offered stress balls and other fidget toys to occupy students' hands and used grant funding to purchase “flexible seating.” Students can choose to sit on a bouncy medicine ball on wheels, a couch, or an intentionally wobbly stool instead of a traditional desk chair.

    “It's a challenge, but it's a good one because it means that kids are not looking at their phones, and instead they're trying to learn,” Quindel said.

    At the same time, students and educators say students aren’t necessarily following the rules as they were originally laid out.

    “ People still bring their phones to school, they just don't get caught,” said Sophia, a Venice High sophomore. “The more rules you enforce, the sneakier people get. The more you imply that you don't trust students, the more they give you a reason not to trust them.”

    Listen 46:11
    On February 18th, 2025, the Los Angeles Unified School District, the second largest public school district in the country, implemented an all-day cell phone ban for its students. Now that it’s the end of the school year, we head to Venice High School to see how the ban actually went.

    On February 18th, 2025, the Los Angeles Unified School District, the second largest public school district in the country, implemented an all-day cell phone ban for its students. Now that it’s the end of the school year, we head to Venice High School to see how the ban actually went.

    The backstory of LAUSD’s cellphone ban 

    The LAUSD Board voted in June 2024 to expand the district’s existing phone ban to include lunch and passing periods (“bell to bell”). The policy also applies to smartwatches and earbuds.

    Board members cited rising concerns about the effect of phones and social media on youth mental health, bullying and distraction from classroom instruction.

    Two months later, Gov. Gavin Newsom signed a bill that requires districts state-wide to adopt similar policies by July 2026. California is one of at least 24 states, as well as D.C., that require school districts to ban or restrict the use of phones in schools.

    LAUSD offered schools different ways to implement the ban and set aside $7 million for lockers, pouches and other devices to separate students from their phones. A district spokesperson said in a statement that about half of schools chose to rely instead on the “honor system” and require students to keep their phones turned off and in their backpacks.

    It’s unclear how much of the money was spent. LAist requested invoices related to the policy’s implementation in April through California’s public records law, but has yet to receive them.

    From the community

    For the last year, LAist’s reporting on LAUSD’s cellphone ban has been shaped by the experiences of families, educators and students. Our survey is still open if you want to weigh in.

    ‘It’s a challenge, but it’s a good one’

    Venice High School’s 2,300 students were supposed to stow phones in a portable lockers stored in their sixth-period classes.

    Sophia was one of a few students in her class who relinquished their phones initially, but she said she stopped after about two weeks.

    “ I don't use it throughout the day — I really don't,” Sophia said. “But I just, I feel safer knowing that my property is like, in my bag.”

    She said the phone ban has been more of an inconvenience than anything. She’s in multiple extracurriculars, including the school newspaper.

    “ I want to give respect to my teacher, and I'm there to learn. I understand that,” Sophia said. “But during my free time, during lunch and nutrition, when I have the perfect opportunity to send out communications to get stuff that I need to be done, done, there is no reason for me to still have my phone locked in a box.”

    Sophia’s average screen time is the same as it was before the ban, about four hours a day.

    Parents struggle to control phone use at home

    Sun Valley parent Norma Chávez said her seventh-grade daughter chose to leave her phone at home rather than lock it in the pouch provided by her school.

    “ She doesn't use it throughout the day, but now it's like she's starving from phone use when she gets home,” Chávez said. She said she catches her daughter hiding a second screen playing cartoons or YouTube while she’s supposed to be doing her homework.

    “I'm trying to get her more involved with activities where she has to be outside the house and she can't have the phone,” Chávez said. For example, next year she’s signed up for the Los Angeles Police Department’s cadet program.

    But other students reported the ban did change their behavior at school.

    Venice junior Chris said that although he didn’t put his phone in the locker, he also wasn’t using it during the school day, for example to play video games during lunch.

     ”I was afraid to get it taken away by my teachers because there was still punishments that you would get if you got caught with it too many times,” Chris said.

    Instead, he spent more time talking with his friends and noticed his peers doing the same.

    But he has noticed another change: In February, he said his screentime averaged five hours a day. By the end of the school year his phone use had crept up to eight hours a day.

    Most of that time is spent on TikTok, but Chris also spends hours in the photos app.

    “ I just like to reminisce on memories I've taken with my phone,” he said. Among the nearly 10,000 pictures he’s taken since 2020 are images of his recent birthday party at his grandmother’s home and trips to Brazil to visit family.

    Compliance ranges, but teachers report positive results

    Sadia Aziz, a teacher at Daniel Pearl Magnet High School, says the ban seems to work. “Kids used cellphones blatantly before the ban, now they are sneaking them here and there. You don't see a lot of phones in the classrooms. Students are definitely more engaged when the distractions of [the] phone went away."

    “Cell phones are almost a non-issue on campus now,” said Mike, a Berendo teacher who shared his first name in an LAist survey. “Most students follow the rule to the letter (no phones at all for the whole day, including lunch and recess). Some don't lock the pouch, but they're not taking them out in class and teachers aren't having to police it and that's really all that matters.”

    Math teacher Quindel said the support of a district-wide policy has helped her feel less like the “phone police” in her individual classroom, but lunch, nutrition and passing periods remain a challenge, especially given the other responsibilities teachers have.

    Two hands hold a gray rectangular pouch with green words that read 'YONDR."
    A Walter Reed Middle School student holds the pouch where she is required to store her phone during the school day as part of LAUSD's cell phone policy.
    (
    Zaydee Sanchez
    /
    LAist
    )

    “ We have thousands of kids here, and there's not that many adults to be able to intervene,” Quindel said.

    Quindel said discussions are underway at Venice as to whether the school will continue trying to require students to store phones at the beginning of the day, or switch to a different strategy.

    Students have reportedly found ways to circumvent the phone policy at other schools, for example by storing a dummy phone in the pouch or breaking the locks.

    It’s not yet clear on a classroom or district-wide level whether the policy is helping students learn more.

    “ I teach data science, so I have a very hard time saying that I have any kind of controlled experiment to say that there's a link between their grades and the cellphone policy,” Quindel said.

    But she did mention a few individual cases where students told her that the phone ban helped them focus in class.

    A new attempt next school year

    “The students were all issued pouches, but in practice they are not used and teachers/admin [are] not enforcing the ban at all,” wrote Eagle Rock High School parent Carrie Hansen. “They say they will start [with a] clean slate next year.”

    LAist requested an interview with anyone at LAUSD who might be able to speak to how the policy has been implemented district-wide and received a statement from a spokesperson.

    “While the district has not completed a formal assessment since initializing our implementation of a variety of phone-free policies this semester, our school sites are reporting improved socialization and engagement during the school days and minimal to no disruption,” the spokesperson wrote.

    Listen 23:18
    LAUSD banned cell phones in February. So how’s that going?
    Mariana Dale joins AirTalk to discuss implementation of Los Angeles Unified's cellphone policy.

    Nick Melvoin, an LAUSD board member and major supporter of the ban, said faculty interested in studying how LAUSD schools are implementing the phone ban have contacted his office.

    Researchers, including several at Stanford, have launched a national survey to try to better understand how phone bans are being implemented throughout the country and expect to share initial findings before the start of next school year.

    “We want the world to see that this is a really important policy,” Melvoin said. “I think we will all, as educators and educational leaders, look back in a few years and be like, how did we ever let cellphones in schools?”

    Listen 46:11
    On February 18th, 2025, the Los Angeles Unified School District, the second largest public school district in the country, implemented an all-day cell phone ban for its students. Now that it’s the end of the school year, we head to Venice High School to see how the ban actually went.

    On February 18th, 2025, the Los Angeles Unified School District, the second largest public school district in the country, implemented an all-day cell phone ban for its students. Now that it’s the end of the school year, we head to Venice High School to see how the ban actually went.

  • Rolex was discovered in the Palisades Fire rubble
    A gloved hand holding a burnt out, discolored watch.
    What's left of the Rolex Deepsea after the Palisades Fire. The watch was found in the rubble.

    Topline:

    A Rolex watch was found in the rubble of the Palisades Fire, burnt almost beyond recognition.

    What happened next: The timepiece was sent to a YouTuber who operates a popular channel on watch resurrection. He spent months bringing the Rolex back to life.

    Read on … to learn the painstaking process and to look at photos of the watch before and after.

    A Rolex Deepsea diver's watch can withstand water pressure at depths of more than 12,000 feet.

    "Basically, the most bulletproof, toughest watch that Rolex makes," says Marshall Sutcliffe, who runs a popular YouTube channel on watch restoration.

    But what about fire?

    About seven months ago, Sutcliffe received an intriguing request from a viewer and his father to restore a Rolex that was recovered in the rubble of the Palisades Fire.

    The watch's owner had lost everything, the two said, save for a husk of that 2015 Deepsea wristwatch.

    " The idea of these fires, even though it was very much in my mind, was distant," said Sutcliffe, who lives in Seattle. "Getting something that came out of one of those fires and having it sitting in front of me was an emotional experience."

    'It was annihilated'

    A close up of what looks to be the disfigured, burnt remains of a wristwatch.
    A viewer of Marshall Sutcliffe's YouTube channel asked if he could fix a Rolex recovered in the rubble of the Palisades Fire.
    (
    Courtesy Marshall Sutcliffe
    )

    Even for Sutcliffe, the state of the timepiece was a shock.

     "It was annihilated  to a level that even I couldn't have imagined until I opened up the watch," he said.

    The outside structure, despite having been cooked for weeks, was surprisingly intact. The case and the metal bracelet, discolored and ashen, were still there. The dial, too, had survived but was unreadable. Gone were the crystal, as well as the bezel with numbers that go around the exterior.

    " My assumption is that [they] popped off because of the extreme heat," Sutcliffe said.

    Then he went in.

    A close up of a extremely rusted surface.
    The movement of the Rolex was all but unrecognizable.
    (
    Courtesy Marshall Sutcliffe
    )

    " I had a little bit of my brain thinking that maybe part of the movement inside would've survived," he said. "I don't know why I thought that."

    Some of the metal had melted into other parts, morphing into one big rusty gunk.

    "There's basically no moving parts anymore left," he said.

    One of Sutcliffe’s biggest challenges in the restoration was to get the movement itself out of the case.

    "I  tried to undo a screw on it," Sutcliffe said. "It turned into a pile of dust."

    Finally, he had to just dig into it, using the biggest screwdriver in his toolbox of tiny watch repair instruments.

    "Piece by piece," Sutcliffe said. " They just flaked off."

    After that, the rest of the work was relatively straightforward, but no less painstaking. Sutcliffe took a movement from a similar Rolex and replaced it wholesale. The other parts, he tried to retain as much as possible.

    What is original?

    But that led to a philosophical question.

    "You know, what makes a thing a thing, right?” he asked. “If you replace a bunch of parts on it, what does that end up being? What I decided to do was I kept every part that I could."

    And there's one part he kept that carries special meaning.

    In the middle of the restoration, an idea hit Sutcliffe to keep an inner ring of the Deepsea — a detail you can see but something that most people probably wouldn’t notice.

    A gloved hand holding a brand new-looking Rolex watch
    During restoration, Sutcliffe had the idea to retain a burnt, darkened inner ring from the original watch.
    (
    Courtesy Marshall Sutcliffe
    )

    Normally, that part is bright silver with black letters on it. The one on the damaged Rolex was charred to a dark brown, verging on black.

    Sutcliffe contacted the owner.

    "I asked him if I could leave that in there so that it could kind of be a subtle symbol to him," he said. "That he made it and it made it, and he's going to continue on.”

    The owner agreed.

    After the video of the restoration was posted, Sutcliffe got an email.

    The owner thanked the watch repairer, telling him that seeing the Deepsea, a gift that was given to him, being slowly put back together was emotional.

    Sutcliffe feels it, too. He still remembers first holding the watch with the marks of incredible destruction in his hand. After the monthslong process, he is struck by what it has now become — "functional again, beautiful again... ready to live a long life."

  • Sponsored message
  • They exist — they're just confused
    A pink orange sunset sky is behind a large elegant building and trees with wintry leaves
    The glorious contradictions of an L.A. winter

    Topline:

    LAist senior editor Suzanne Levy explores the glorious contradictions of an L.A. winter. Is it time for an iced latte or a hot chocolate? To buy wood for a fireplace or more suntan lotion? Fleece or flipflops (or maybe both?) There are seasons here, she argues, they're just..... confused.

    Why it matters: The sight of Angenenos in puffy coats when it's 50 degrees leaves visitors perplexed. But it's a sign that you've acclimatized when you complain of being cold all the time and a slight winter breeze and overcast sky sends you inside for a pair of gloves and a bobble hat.

    Why now: Because it's winter, people. Can't you tell by the blazing hot sun and outdoor dining? OK, look out for the lit-up reindeer on palm trees to give you a time check.

    They say there are no seasons in L.A. That’s just wrong. There are, it’s just they don’t make any sense. In the U.K., where I’m from, the seasons are pretty predictable. A period of lots of rain (winter), then a little less rain (spring), rain when you don’t want it (summer) and back to lots of rain (autumn). And yes, as far as I’m concerned, it’s autumn. Not fall. Fall is a verb, not a noun.

    But here in L.A., as I look up at a tree with maroon leaves next to a palm tree, it’s like someone picked up all the seasons and threw them up in the air and let them fall as they will. (See what I did there?)

    So yes, in winter the air is cold, but the sun is hot. There’s hot chocolate and iced latte, sometimes at the same time. There’s woodfire smoke in the evening and lunchtime outdoor dining. Sit inside or out? Um, can we do both? Like my top half is in the sun, but my bottom half is in the shade, and then I flip like a burger?

    Palm trees are seen against a red and yellow wall.
    A palm tree in downtown L.A.
    (
    Julia Wick
    /
    LAist
    )

    Newcomer confusion

    It’s certainly confusing for new arrivals. We got here in January some years ago, leaving a cold rainy East Coast behind. I spent the first Sunday sitting at a beachfront cafe as the sun shone gorgeously down from the heavens.

    But as we went down to the ocean, my then-5-year-old daughter looked about, panicking, and said, “Mommy, we mustn’t be here, there’s nobody here!”

    I looked about and realized she was right. There was no one on the beach, even though it was pretty warm. Definitely as warm as I remember summer vacations being in the U.K., where you’d put up wind breaks on the sand and huddle next to them as the North wind blew across the beach and the sun apathetically glanced down every now and then.

    “No,” I said soundlng like the love child of Mary Popppins and Steven Fry. “Come on! I’d have given anything to be on a beach like this as a kid! Lovely weather!”

    So we walked along on the deserted sand as I shook my head at the waste of it all. These wide, wide beaches...and no one on them? These Californians need to build character. Make them go on beach walks when it’s below 70 degrees! It’s a shame, I said, shame.

    Lying thermostats

    Now I’ve been here over a decade and have acclimatized. I think going to the beach past November is the mark of a mad person, and I feel the cold in my bones. Not from the swirling snow outside, or from the freezing winds hurtling down a city block, but in my home. Yes .... it’s often colder inside than out. At least it feels that way. The thermostat cheerfully tells me it’s 71 degrees and I want to yell at it: “You’re lying! How is this 71 degrees when my feet at my desk are iceblocks and I’m burrowing my nose in the scarf that apparently I’m wearing indoors even though it’s blazing sunshine outside?”

    Sometimes I need to sit in my puffer coat on top of a heater just to keep my body temperature higher than a reptile.

    Look, I know it’s because they didn’t put insulation in most L.A. houses last century, and my feet are resting on a few inches of wooden floor and then nothing — just a massive hole in the ground — but it just seems odd. I go outside to warm up in the middle of the day, and turn my face up to the sky to absorb the liquid gold, and all is good .... until I go inside again and scream at the thermostat.

    But a confused California winter season is still better than most other places. The air doesn’t attack you when you’re outside, like New York or Chicago. And snow is for mountains only. There’s no scraping ice off windshields, only a mild condensation. It doesn’t take 30 minutes to dress your kids when you’re about to go out, and you can get wonderfully sweet strawberries, freshly picked, at the farmers market. Or a persimmon. Or a plum. In December.

    So as I head out in a fleece, shorts and flip flops to get wood for my fireplace while picking up more sun tan lotion, let’s hear it for SoCal’s crazy seasons, confused as hell and making it up as they go along — like most of us.

  • An art piece atop a garage sign in Pershing Square
    Pigeons perch on top of stools umbrellas and open space on the Pershing Square parking garage sign on Fifth and Hill street. The taller part of the sign is yellow. The shorter part is purple. There are 11 pigeons in the 'Cafe'.
    Pigeons sitting on and around "Spike Cafe" in Pershing Square.

    Topline:

    In a city like L.A., art is everywhere, even when you least expect it. One such work can be found atop a garage sign in Pershing Square.

    What is it? The piece, called "Spike Cafe," is by street artist S.C. Mero, who built a tiny little cafe with stools, umbrellas and plastic finger food ... for piegeons.

    The backstory: The art was meant to flip the idea of deterrence spikes on its head, but it was soon taken over by the real birds.

    Los Angeles has plenty of world-renowned art museums, but you often don't have to stray far from the street to see interesting work.

    One of them is housed on top of the parking garage sign at the intersection of 5th and Hill streets near Pershing Square. It’s been there since last Spring, situated right next to the familiar sight of deterrence spikes.

    The big draw? It’s a restaurant for pigeons.

    The Pershing Square Garage sign housing 'Spike Cafe' is seen from the side facing the street. A blue and a yellow umbrella can be seen on the sign. Fake fruit and sandwiches sit on top of fake spikes. Six pigeons occupy the cafe.
    Six pigeons sit at the "Spike Cafe" on top of the Pershing Square Garage sign.
    (
    S.C. Mero
    /
    S.C. Mero
    )

    You can’t perch here

    “ The project came about because I was messing with these deterrents,” said S.C. Mero, the artist behind “Spike Cafe”. “Some of the deterrents are human deterrents in downtown, to keep the unhoused population from sleeping in certain areas. It's essentially hostile architecture.”

    Mero is a guerilla street artist based in Los Angeles. She uses the found environment of the city for whimsical storytelling, juxtaposing social issues with smile-inducing imagery.

    In other pieces of the series, she put things like fake marshmallows, cheese and olives on the bird spikes around L.A, which led to the idea of "Spike Cafe."

    “I’d just sort of had an idea like, wouldn't it be interesting, since they're supposed to deter the pigeons, if the pigeons instead had just set up right next to them and they were using the deterrents as a place to dine,” Mero said.

    So Mero installed two fake pigeons: One with a top hat and the other with a hat made of straw. She fastened them to a strip of plastic deterrence spikes, then put that on top of the garage sign. She even fit the spikes with a fake feast of finger sandwiches and shrimp cocktails.

    “These pigeons took something that was supposed to be, putting them down or keeping them away, and they flipped it and used it for something that was good.” Mero said.

    High noon at the Spike Cafe

    Mero considered the installation complete, but a couple weeks later while walking through Pershing Square she noticed one of her fake pigeons lying on its side. Her first thought was she hadn’t secured the sculpture properly.

    But that wasn’t it. Mero eventually found out that real pigeons were landing on her sculpture. “They were dining at the Spike Cafe, but they were using my pigeons as stools,” Mero said.

    Mero liked that real birds were appreciating her art, but she wasn’t thrilled they were damaging it. So she put spikes on her fake pigeons — which also didn't deter the birds.

    “The pigeons just continued to land. They found a different little spot, like the head of the pigeon to land on. And I just kind of conceded,” Mero said. “I might as well just embrace it.”

    Consider the birds

    Mero took down her fictional birds. She added stools for the real ones, umbrellas for shade, and plastic strawberries and watermelon pieces for her diners.

    Two pigeons sit on stools and one sits on an umbrella added to the Pershing Square sign. One pigeon is seen in the background taking flight.
    Three pigeons at the "Spike Cafe" look down onto Pershing square from their resting places.
    (
    S.C. Mero
    /
    S.C. Mero
    )

    “It ended up being a very fun installation because I realized that it's even better when it's the actual pigeons,” Mero said.

    So the next time you find yourself in Pershing Square, pull up a seat right next to a feathered friend at Spike Cafe.

    Pigeons are seen sitting at the 'Spike Cafe' while other pigeons in the background are seen on street poles. Six pigeons are seen on the sign. A few of them face the camera while others face away.
    Pigeons at the "Spike Cafe" pose for a picture while sunbathing.
    (
    S.C. Mero
    /
    S.C. Mero
    )

  • Leaders refuse to comply with White House orders
    A large building with big glass windows and a sign that says "Japanese American National Museum."
    The Japanese American National Museum's Pavilion building in Los Angeles.

    Topline:

    Two weeks after the Smithsonian shuttered its DEI office and stripped its websites of DEI-related language, Japanese American National Museum's leaders announced that they would not waver from their commitment to DEI or their mission of telling the full truth about the Japanese American experience, World War II incarceration camps and all.

    Background: Days after starting his second term, President Donald Trump issued a series of executive orders that targeted DEI programs and policies for elimination, decrying them as illegal and immoral. Museums across the country scrambled to react — and in many cases, comply. Within days, Washington’s National Gallery of Art announced it would close its office of belonging and inclusion and remove the words “diversity, equity, access and inclusion” from its list of values on its website. Five days later, the Smithsonian followed suit.

    Read on ... for more detail on why it was so important for the Japanese American National Museum leaders to stand up to the administration.

    Days after starting his second term, President Donald Trump issued a series of executive orders that targeted DEI programs and policies for elimination, decrying them as illegal and immoral. Museums across the country scrambled to react — and in many cases, comply. Within days, Washington’s National Gallery of Art announced it would close its office of belonging and inclusion and remove the words “diversity, equity, access and inclusion” from its list of values on its website. Five days later, the Smithsonian followed suit.

    But the Japanese American National Museum, a relatively small institution in downtown Los Angeles, chose a different path. Founded in 1992 at the site of a historic Buddhist temple in L.A.’s Little Tokyo, the museum took a stand against Trump and his anti-DEI edicts while other museums acquiesced. Two weeks after the Smithsonian shuttered its DEI office and stripped its websites of DEI-related language, JANM’s leaders announced that they would not waver from their commitment to DEI or their mission of telling the full truth about the Japanese American experience, World War II incarceration camps and all. We will scrub nothing, JANM announced, in what would become a slogan for the museum’s defiance. That stance came with significant risks: At stake were millions in federal grants from institutions like the National Endowment for the Humanities and the Institute of Museum and Library Services.

    “You can’t put a price tag on your community’s integrity and your institution’s integrity,” said William T. Fujioka, chair of JANM’s board of trustees and the former chief executive officer of L.A. County.

    To date, JANM, which has an operating budget of around $13 million, has lost $660,000 in federal funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities, said Sherrill Ingalls, JANM’s director of marketing and communications. In October, the museum was also turned down for a Japanese American Confinement Sites grant from the National Park Service that funds projects about the Japanese American incarceration camps — a story central to the museum’s existence since it was founded.

    “We always got money for this grant,” Fujioka said. This year: nothing.

    “I don’t think we can draw conclusions,” said Ann Burroughs, JANM’s President and CEO. “I think it’s important that you quote that: We can’t draw conclusions.”

    “But one hears things anecdotally,” she added.

    “We don’t know for a fact why we didn’t get it,” Fujioka said. “But it’s probably grounded on the very vocal and strong position we’ve taken.”

    Sticking to your principles in defiance of a vindictive president and your own financial interests is never easy. But as many prominent museums — institutions whose primary mission is to inform the public about our collective histories — bend to Trump’s will, it’s become a stand few museums other than JANM have been willing to take.

    “If you find some, let me know, because I haven’t seen it,” said Lori Fogarty, the director of the Oakland Museum of California. “And I’ve been actively looking to see what other museums might take the stance of bravery that JANM has taken.”


    JANM’s decision to take a stand came at a board of trustees meeting last February. “We started to hear that other nonprofits, particularly other museums, were starting to scrub their websites of any references to DEI because they were afraid they were going to lose funding,” Fujioka said.

    “The executive orders were coming fast and furious, and there was this pervasive fear of, ‘What the hell does this mean?’” Burroughs said. The trustees considered what might be lost by opposing the executive orders — both in terms of funding, but also by placing a very visible target on their backs. “We talked about the importance of standing up and being vocal,” Fujioka said.

    In the end, the board voted unanimously to push back against Trump’s attacks on DEI, approving a strongly worded statement that called out the administration’s “attempt at erasure” and affirmed the museum’s commitment “to stand up for the truth about history” to fight discrimination and hate “and to ensure that no community is ever again subjected to the injustices that Japanese Americans faced.” “There were no dissenting voices,” Burroughs said.

    “Nobody stood up for Japanese Americans in 1942, other than the Quakers and perhaps one chapter of the ACLU,” said Burroughs, who was jailed as a young activist in her native South Africa for her opposition to apartheid, and is also the chair of the board of directors of Amnesty International USA. “I think our trustees, the children of camp survivors, felt that weight of history enormously. Now was the time to stand up for other people and other communities that were under attack.”

    JANM’s statement was as thorough as it was bold, as the board decried the “erosion of civil rights” and the resurfacing of “racism, xenophobia, and authoritarianism” under the second Trump administration. It denounced Trump’s directive to build a migrant detention center at Guantanamo Bay; his invoking of the Alien Enemies Act to carry out mass deportations without due process (as was done to Japanese Americans during World War II); the administration’s attacks on birthright citizenship, among other actions.

    “I was impressed,” Fogarty said of the statement, which was released Feb. 11. “But it totally made sense to me, knowing JANM’s history.”

    It’s the kind of stance that JANM has been taking for years. After 9/11, the museum’s leaders declared their solidarity with Muslim Americans, noting the similarities between the hysteria and hateful political climates of 2001 and 1942. “The Japanese American community came to Michigan to hold one of their conventions and to support the Arab American community here,” said Devon Akmon, former director of the Arab American National Museum in Dearborn, Michigan. “JANM was very instrumental throughout our early years.”

    In 2017, JANM was among the first museums in the country to see its leaders speak out against Trump’s anti-Muslim travel bans, as the museum drew hundreds of people to a series of marches, vigils and rallies in support of the Muslim community. Over the years, the museum has held programs about everything from implicit bias to antisemitism at its National Center for the Preservation of Democracy.

    The issue came to a head in April, when JANM learned that the Department of Government Efficiency had terminated a National Endowment for the Humanities grant that was to fund an annual program that brings teachers from across the U.S. to Little Tokyo to learn about the history of the incarceration camps. The central goal of the program was to prevent history from repeating itself by educating teachers about the camps who would then pass along that knowledge to their students.

    The museum responded with a rebuke of the executive order Trump issued in March, “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History.” “The order,” the museum said in an April 3 statement, “aims to replace nonpartisan, research-based, and comprehensive history of the US with a grandiose and simplistic narrative that omits the nation’s injustices, mistakes, and dark chapters.”

    “The attack on DEI was anathema to us, because our mission is absolutely centered in a celebration of the ethnic and cultural diversity of the U.S.,” Burroughs said.


    Word of JANM’s stand spread through museum publications, on social media and via arts blogs, local news outlets and the Japanese American ethnic press. And when Gov. Gavin Newsom was looking for an appropriate place to hold a press conference about Proposition 50 and congressional redistricting in August, he chose the museum’s National Center for the Preservation of Democracy. The spot is steps from the site where, in 1942, Japanese Americans assembled to board buses bound for American detention centers and incarceration camps. As Newsom made his remarks, dozens of masked and armed Border Patrol agents roamed around the center’s plaza, ostensibly to conduct an immigration raid. At the press conference, Newsom called those actions “sick and pathetic.”

    Since then, some other museums have also opposed Trump’s executive orders, though in quieter ways. A few, like JANM, are also choosing to “scrub nothing,” a message that JANM placed on t-shirts to raise money to replace lost federal funds. For JANM, scrubbing was never really a choice. What would a JANM exhibit or website look like without DEI? “It would be blank,” Burroughs said.

    “Right now, a lot of museums are still trying to figure out how to navigate this very carefully and deliberately,” Akmon said. “I’ve had conversations with people who are very, very nervous about making public statements because of concerns like, ‘How do I shield my staff? How do we not get obliterated?’”

    “I think it’s really important to acknowledge that not all museums have the same latitude to be as bold as JANM,” Akmon added. “There are factors like governance structures, funding, political environments, community pressures. But I do think that courage looks different in different contexts. For some it might be public statements and very forward-facing initiatives. For others, it could be quietly sustaining inclusive practices despite external pressure.”

    Although San Diego’s Museum of Us isn’t taking a formal stance on DEI like JANM did, its current exhibit, which opened this November, is about as aggressively DEI in nature and name as one gets. Titled “Race: Power, Resistance & Change,” the exhibit “tells the truth about racial oppression and white supremacy in the Californias, and how indigenous and other communities of color have resisted that oppression,” said Micah Parzen, the museum’s CEO.

    The exhibit was in the works years before Trump’s election to a second term, so it is “not a reaction [to the executive orders] by any stretch of the imagination,” he said. “We’re just continuing to do what we believe museums should be doing.”

    At JANM, the museum is expanding the reach of its message beyond its Los Angeles walls with JANM on the Go, an ambitious outreach project undertaken this year while the museum’s main exhibit space is undergoing major renovations. The program is partnering with other museums and art institutions to present shows about Japanese American female artists in Philadelphia and Monterey, Calif.; exhibits about the incarceration camps in Chicago and Seattle; a showcase of Japanese American car culture in Pasadena; and film screenings of JANM-produced documentaries in theaters from Santa Monica to Nagoya, Japan. Burroughs can’t say how much of this collaboration with other museums has been driven by their stance on DEI. “But certainly there is more interest in our work,” she said.

    Still others are simply choosing not to accept or apply for federal grants. Last October, the executive committee of the Oakland Museum of California, which focuses on the arts, history and culture, turned down a major grant administered by the Department of Interior after the department told the Oakland Museum executive committee that accepting the award would essentially affirm that the museum would abide by Trump’s executive orders against DEI. The museum also decided to stop pursuing federal grants in the future. “We wouldn’t be able to accept federal funding in good conscience with those strings attached,” Fogarty said.

    Parzen isn’t applying for any new federal grants either. “We know, just from a practical perspective, we’re not going to get them,” he said. “Because the mandate is to not fund the so-called ‘woke’ museums.”

    Parzen said the administration’s anti-DEI stance has completely upended what the grants were originally intended to do — and nearly guaranteed that places like JANM won’t get the sorts of grants they did in the past, like the National Park Service one they lost. “One of the key criteria they used to use to evaluate these grants was: Does it support a community of color that typically hasn’t been represented in museums?” Parzen said. “Whereas now, all of a sudden, it’s: Does the grant support the administration and celebrate patriotism and all the wonderful things about what it means to be American?”

    Since the beginning of the year, the National Endowment for the Humanities has canceled at least 1,200 grants — an estimated 85% of its existing grants. It’s hard to quantify how much has been lost to federal cuts, both in terms of research and public-facing programs, but it’s a lot, say museum directors like Fogarty. “Those grants are really important because they are peer reviewed and so competitive that in order to receive one, it really has to be a model project,” she said. “So these grants would really jump-start very important projects.”


    This March, Burroughs will be attending the California Association of Museums annual conference being held in Los Angeles in 2026. With museum leaders and administrators in attendance from across the state, Burroughs will likely field questions about JANM’s ongoing stance against the Trump administration — how it came to make it, and what it has cost them.

    Why was JANM able to take such a strong stance against DEI, for instance, when so many others could not, or would not? A major factor was its board, which was the driving force behind JANM’s position, Fujioka said.

    “There was no politics in that discussion,” Fujioka said. “What we talked about was our heritage, and our responsibility to the Issei and Nisei [first and second Japanese American] generations, who lost so much.”

    For many museums, this is not typical. “Boards in particular are getting skittish and nervous and saying, ‘Maybe we need to change this a little bit,’” Parzen said. “‘We wouldn’t want to be on the radar and subject to an investigation or an audit.’”

    JANM also has the advantage of being a culturally specific museum whose very existence is rooted in community activism. The museum was established because other museums across the country were not telling the history of Japanese Americans, and was funded, in large part, by individual Japanese American community members and groups. “I think a museum like the Japanese American National Museum, or even the Arab American National Museum, a lot of these culturally specific museums have a lot of clarity on why they exist,” Akmon said. “I mean, a deep, deep purpose. Being a museum is almost secondary. It’s like, we’re a museum because of this. That is a powerful proposition.”

    “And sometimes, in some of the darkest hours,” he continued, “being bold, for these types of institutions, actually galvanizes their community.”

    Ironically, JANM is, in many ways, in the same position as other museums that scrubbed their websites or canceled exhibits or chose not to take a stand. Even after the Smithsonian scrubbed its site, Trump announced an extensive review of the museum to ensure that it “reflect(s) the unity, progress and enduring values that define the American story”; similarly, in May, Trump called for the removal of Kim Sajet, the director of the National Portrait Gallery, because of her support of DEI, even after the gallery removed the DEI messaging from its website (she resigned the following month).

    “A lot of museums chose not to speak out because they were afraid of funding getting cut,” Burroughs said. “Well, it’s been cut. It’s gone.”

    For Burroughs, museums are at a critical crossroads where they must make tough decisions about how to stand up for their principles. “I just don’t believe for a second that museums can be neutral,” she said. “Museums can’t be neutral, whether you’re a science museum or an art museum or a cultural history museum. Especially at a time like this, when truth is under attack, when truth and history and science and art and culture is under attack, I think that we have a responsibility to stay firm.”

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