The Brief

Tai Harris breathes and lives music. The Van Nuys resident worked in the business side of that industry for many years, but said she became "jaded" several years back. So she made a big career change seemingly out of left field — by diving headlong into working with Los Angeles' unhoused population at a local nonprofit.

"I saw the position either on Craigslist or Indeed, and I was like, 'Wow, that sounds interesting,' you know, helping homeless individuals obtain resources," Harris said.

In four short years, Harris climbed the ranks, becoming an associate director focused on housing the unhoused.

But this year, she decided to go back to school to supplement the hands-on experience she's gained working in the sector. Harris is one of 20 students in a pilot certificate program — the first of its kind in the state — launched this year by Santa Monica College to train a workforce that is integral to solving this vexing challenge.

"There's education around social work, there's education around music, but to have something specific to homeless service work, it was like, 'Whoa, I definitely want to know more about this and be involved,'" Harris said.

Help wanted: Homeless service work

There are some 1,300 jobs in the homeless services sector in L.A. County that have remained unfilled, according to SMC and others working in the sector. These jobs cut across a variety of roles, particularly entry-level positions on the frontlines.

The passage of Measure H in 2017 helped fund the creation of these jobs — something that Measure A, which voters approved this November, will continue to do.

"What's often overlooked is all the heroes that work behind-the-scenes and on the frontlines and work as case managers or work in outreach," said Steven Sedky, associate dean for career education at SMC. "But there's not enough of them to do the work."

The Homeless Service Work program was created to fix that need — a model the college hopes will be replicated throughout California.

"We have close ties to our local communities, we have close ties to industry leaders," Sedky said. "Community colleges are well positioned to do this work."

A program years in the making

The concept to create a pipeline was brought to the school in 2019 by a trustee, Nancy Greenstein, who was holding a series of conversations among residents in the Westside and those working in the sector on finding solutions to the crisis. An issue quickly came to the fore: staffing.

"One is burnout," said Patricia Ramos, dean of academic affairs at SMC. "The work is really hard."

Another reason is the mismatch in skill sets.

"They seem to be getting a lot of students out of social work school and other places, and the education felt like it needed to be more hands on and more kind of helping students to become more resilient in all of the, you know, trauma that they were going to be facing in the job," Ramos said.

The pandemic hit, but eventually these discussions regained steam, tapping into a bigger network with a more fleshed out vision that led to a partnership between the college and Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority (LAHSA), which provides funding to offset costs like faculty salaries, student laptops, counseling and other student services under the certificate program.

"We were, as a college, prepared to help scale and develop this workforce development system. And LAHSA came to us because they do training themselves and they are not able to develop and scale an academic program," Ramos said.

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Michael Owen Baker

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Courtesy LAHSA

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A curriculum designed for students to hit the ground running

In turn, industry leaders led the design of the four-course certificate curriculum that includes an internship to get on-the-ground experience — all combined to give students the training they need to engage and work with individuals while navigating a complex bureaucracy of services and government entities.

"We really relied on the experts in the field who have decades of experience on what the skills, knowledge, and abilities needed to put into the curriculum," Sedky said. "Then one step further in the curriculum development process is thinking about how those fit into classes, what those classes are, and what that sequence is."

The program has also brought in sector veterans to teach classes, including Leepi Shimkhada with L.A. County Department of Health Services, who is leading a course in health equity.

"A lot of times in homeless case management we find people who have various degrees, which is great, right? It brings people from multiple disciplines together, but rarely do we have that person who has had formal training in what it means to be a case manager in homeless services, because it's really a complex space to be in," Shimkhada said.

Often, she added, challenges facing unhoused people are often multifold, including health, mental health and substance abuse disorder.

"There are funds for outreach teams, for interim housing programs, to provide ongoing supportive services when somebody moves into permanent housing, to do benefits advocacy, but we just need this workforce that's ready and willing and able to come in and do the work very quickly," Shimkhada said.

Tai Harris, a student in the new Santa Monica College certificate program on homeless service work.

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Courtesy Tai Harris

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Cultivating the next generation of leaders

The program has drawn students from all walks of life, said Sedky at SMC. They include high school graduates and mid-career people who are considering a career change after having volunteered in the space.

"We have a Ukrainian refugee. We have a bus driver who drives through Skid Row and wants to do more," Sedky added. "We have a few people that are already working in the sector and they want to move up in the sector."

Harris from Van Nuys would fall into that category. She said the program has opened access to a wealth of knowledge from those who've worked in the industry for decades.

"For me, it was to be able to learn more about policies and, you know, to have my pulse even more so on things that are going on and things that are coming in the future," Harris said.

But it's also about being in a cohort of like-minded people — committed to the cause — who the program hopes will become next generation of leaders in the sector. Because the work is hard, burnout is real. The pay scale for entry level jobs, said Harris, is typically between $20 to $25 per hour.

"It takes a certain type of individual to work in this field. No two days are the same. No two seconds, honestly, are the same," Harris said. "You have to be someone that really has a passion for this work. It's a great thing that this program has come about to be able to help get those next groups of people into this field."

Think of pretty much any country, and you can likely find its cuisine in Los Angeles. But when we saw that Belgium was lined up to play Iran on Sunday, June 21, at SoFi Stadium, it gave us pause. Is there a Belgian restaurant in L.A.?

It turns out the answer is complicated. Liège waffles — the dense, caramelized, pearl-sugar version of the Belgian classic — have a real foothold here, with spots like Belgium Waffle Haus in the San Fernando Valley. There's also FRitēS-FReaK, an Orange County food truck devoted entirely to Belgian-style double-fried fries, piled high with toppings like fried egg and bacon.

But a full Belgian dining experience, the kind with mussels and frites and a wall of Trappist beers, is harder to come by. For that, you'll need to drive about 40 miles south down the coast, where Brussels Bistro — with locations in San Clemente and Laguna Beach — pays homage to the cuisine of the distinct but tiny country that's the size of Maryland.

Walk into the San Clemente location, and a marquee above the bar spells out a kind of Belgian shorthand — WE ♥ BELGIUM, CROQUETTES, WAFFLE, FRITES — more mood than menu. Near the entrance, a replica of the Manneken-Pis — one of Belgium's best-known symbols, the naked young boy happily urinating into a basin — sits on a shelf dressed in the Belgian national team jersey, an American flag planted beside him.

Chef-owner Thomas Crijns came from Ottignies, outside Brussels, in the early 2000s to consult on the Laguna Beach location — and never left. He runs the restaurant alongside his wife Carol, who is French-born with Persian heritage, a combination that will make the June 21 match particularly interesting in their household. When asked to describe the food of his home country, Crijns quickly quips: "Belgian cuisine is like French cuisine but with less pretension."

A World Cup match plays above the bar at Brussels Bistro, alongside a deep list of Belgian beers including Chimay, Duvel and Kasteel.

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Gab Chabrán

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LAist

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The menu reads like a love letter to Belgian culinary tradition — mussels, waffles, and carbonnade à la flamande, a Flemish stew made with beer and mustard — alongside a draft list that includes Chimay, Duvel, Rochefort and Delirium Tremens.

But the dish Crijns is most proud of is one most Americans have never heard of. The shrimp croquette is a staple of Belgian brasserie culture, made here with North Sea shrimp — what he calls "the caviar of the North Sea" — flown in every Thursday from a Dutch supplier.

Four golden, breaded croquettes arranged on a white plate over a bed of fried parsley, with a lemon wedge and a dollop of sauce on top of one croquette.

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Gab Chabrán

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LAist

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The croquettes arrived four to a plate, golden and perfectly formed, the exterior giving way to a creamy molten interior where the tiny shrimp created a texture unlike anything I'd had before — something close to squid, but more delicate. The kind of dish that makes more sense with a Belgian beer in hand and a side of frites within reach. The match, though, is a more complicated proposition in the Crijns household.

A taste of Belgium, one tap at a time, at Brussels Bistro in San Clemente.

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Gab Chabrán

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Carol would know better than most. Her uncle runs a Persian restaurant in Irvine, part of an Orange County Iranian community of nearly 37,000 — a concentration that rivals many a concentration that rivals many larger cities

On June 21, she expects fans from both sides to fill the restaurant.

"I'm gonna do everything I can to bring as many family members," she said. "To tease my husband as much as I can."

"I'm grateful that the tournament allows us to put aside our differences and bring people together."

Coming from almost anyone else, that might sound like a talking point. Coming from a French-Persian woman married to a Belgian chef, watching Iran play Belgium at their own restaurant — it sounds like something she's earned the right to say.

For the Iranian diaspora in Los Angeles, the feelings around Iran's World Cup participation have been complicated. Monday's game between Iran and New Zealand ended in a 2-2 draw at SoFi Stadium. Now, Iran prepares to face Belgium at the same stadium on Sunday in a match that continues to carry weight well beyond the scoreline.

For Sahar Shomali, who owns Kouzeh, an Iranian bakery located in the Miracle Mile neighborhood, those feelings live somewhere between the oven and the morning news.

Kouzeh takes its name from the Farsi word for a clay jar. A small row of them sits on the bakery case that greets customers when they walk in. On the wall above, a laminated National Geographic map of Iran hangs alongside a small illustration featuring an Iranian saying: "What comes out of the vessel is whatever's inside it."

Sahar Shomali didn't plan for the name and the saying to connect. She just liked the way Kouzeh sounded.

Barbari is one of Iran's most beloved breads — a long, oval flatbread with a golden, slightly crisp crust and a soft, chewy interior. It’s as common in Tehran as a baguette is in Paris. And for Shomali, it was the one thing she couldn't stop thinking about after she left and arrived in the U.S.

A selection of breads at Kouzeh, including barbari (far left), kelaneh (the folded triangle), and several sweet breads tied to specific Iranian provinces.

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Gab Chabrán

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Growing up, she lived a 10-minute walk from a barbari bakery, and her father would go every morning before breakfast, coming home with two pieces still hot from the oven. There is a running understanding among Iranians, she said, that you never make it home with the bread whole. Someone always tears off a piece on the walk back.

Kouzeh, an Iranian bakery on Wilshire Boulevard in Mid-Wilshire, opened earlier this year.

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"I really missed that," she said. "Especially the barbari. That was my thing."

When she got to Los Angeles, she went looking for a replacement— and found Persian bakeries making barbari that were, to her, not the real thing. So she did what she calls the opposite: went to culinary school, and spent years moving as far from Iranian cuisine as possible, taking every Californian and French restaurant job she could find.

"So that I could just learn everything that I didn't know," she said.

It worked. In 2018 she left her last pastry chef job and applied everything she'd learned to make barbari. Once she felt she’d cracked it, Kouzeh followed.

Shomali doesn't just stick to barbari. She offers 25 very different breads, some sweet, some savory, each tied to a specific Iranian province. Standouts include kelaneh, a savory Kurdish flatbread with an herb filling — scallion, parsley, cilantro — pillowy soft with a slight char, somewhere between a flour tortilla and a scallion pancake. The kakouli bakhtiyari, made with grape molasses and flavored with fennel and fenugreek seeds, walks the line between sweet and savory. And eashly koukah, a festive bread from Tabriz filled with ginger and turmeric paste, rounds out a case that spans nearly the full breadth of the country.

The bakery case at Kouzeh, where each bread and pastry is labeled with its city or province of origin.

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Gab Chabrán

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LAist

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None of the breads come from family recipes — Shomali built each one through research, conversations with friends, a single bread book her cousin sent from Iran, and a culinary background that lets her reverse-engineer a recipe from a description alone. The shelves lining the walls tell a similar story: Saba Jams, small-batch preserves made by a childhood friend now based in San Francisco; torshi from Nicole's Kitchen; goods from ZoZo Baking — all Iranian women food makers in California that Shomali sought out personally.

"I called them all up," she said. "I said, I have shelves, and I want Persian goods on those shelves."

While having little interest in sports or the World Cup, Shomali's heart lies with her home country. Every morning, before the bread goes in, she checks the news from Iran — a ritual her customers share.

Even mid-rush, Sahar Shomali makes time for the regulars who keep coming back.

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Gab Chabrán

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LAist

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"We stress about it together, we grieve about it together. But people still show up and buy bread."

It's not lost on her, the duality of how she and her community feel torn between the country they adopted and the one they came from.

"Both of my countries are at war," she said. "I can't take sides in either one."

The Los Angeles City Council has approved a ballot proposal for November that would allow non-citizens to vote in council and school board elections.

The proposal, if approved by voters, could lay the groundwork for dramatically changing the electorate in Los Angeles. There are approximately 1.3 million to 1.4 million non-citizen residents living in the city, according to Data USA, making up nearly 36% of the city's population.

Councilmember Hugo Soto-Martinez championed the proposal, saying non-citizen residents have just as much of a stake in L.A. as citizens do.

“These are people who live here, they pay their taxes here, they raise their families here. And they are directly affected by the decisions we make every single day,” Soto-Martinez told the council. “They deserve to have a voice.”

The City Council voted 10-5 on Wednesday to place the charter change on the Nov. 3 ballot.

Councilmember John Lee voted no, expressing concerns about the cost of having non-citizens vote and the logistics of determining who is eligible. For example, how long would someone have to have lived in L.A. to vote?

“Those decisions will inevitably be viewed by some as benefitting allies or harming opponents even if that was not the actual intent,” Lee said. “The perception alone can undermine public confidence in our elections.”

Councilmember Imelda Padilla said she had another concern: “I am very nervous this could potentially create a disincentive to become a legal citizen.”

Soto-Martinez assured his colleague that the details of any plan to have non-citizens vote would be worked out in ordinances later. For now, he said, he wanted to send a message.

“I want this to be a way to show the world that Los Angeles is going the opposite direction of the federal government,” Soto-Martinez said. “While they are trying to take away people’s rights, we’re expanding it.”

The measure was one of several charter changes approved for the ballot.

The council is also placing before voters a plan to dramatically increase funding for the city’s beleaguered Department of Recreation and Parks. For years, the department has faced deep staffing cuts and struggled with aging facilities.

Under the proposal, parks funding would double over the next decade.

A coalition of parks advocates had sought the increase and many spoke to the council Wednesday.

“We need more green space and parks to have family gatherings,” said Ana Nieves of the Los Angeles Neighborhood Land Trust.

Councilmember Bob Blumenfield was the lone no vote on the measure. He said mandating an increase in funding for parks means there’ll have to be cuts elsewhere in the budget in the future.

“So don’t pat yourselves when you have an easy vote because it's out of context,” Blumenfield told his colleagues.

Voters in November will also be asked to expand the power of the City Council over the police department, including the ability to direct policy. Right now, a five-member civilian police commission appointed by the mayor has sole responsibility for setting policy.

Councilmember Eunisses Hernandez said the measure is needed because the commission has failed to reign in the police department on issues like pretextual stops. That’s when an officer uses a minor traffic violation as the reason to stop — and sometimes harass — a person.

“In some neighborhoods, policing is still like the 1990s,” Hernandez said. “It might not be happening like that in all parts of the city, but I can point to where it's happening in my district.”

Under the proposal, the council would be prohibited from getting involved in individual investigations or discipline.

Still, Lee warned the measure would lead to City Council meddling in the police department.

“Colleagues, I warn you against doing this,” he said. “Citizens oversight was put in place exactly to keep us out of politicizing the LAPD.”

The council approved a series of other proposed charter changes for the November ballot, ranging from increasing fines for ethics violations to establishing a director of public works.

The council rejected a number of other proposed charter changes, referring them instead to a City Council committee. They included a proposal to expand the City Council from 15 to 25 members and one to switch elections to ranked choice voting, saying the ideas needed more study.

The story first appeared on The LA Local.

Inglewood and L.A. Metro released a statement Wednesday after at least two videos went viral this week showing locals being blocked from their neighborhoods because of the World Cup events at SoFi Stadium.

One TikTok video, which received 1.4 million views and more than 92,000 likes, appears to show an officer telling a group of people in a car they cannot park on the street near their home. In an Instagram reel which received 221,000 likes, another officer tells drivers to turn around despite them heading home. 

“The City wants residents to know that denying access to homes has never been and will never be part of Inglewood’s traffic management plan for FIFA World Cup matches or any other event,” read the traffic update from Inglewood Mayor James Butts, which was posted on Instagram.

“Ensuring residents can safely access their homes and maintain a high quality of life during major events remains a top priority,” the statement read. 

In the same post, Metro L.A. released a statement explaining that they requested assistance from the L.A. County Sheriff’s Department to support bus movement out of the area, but did not call for “complete street closures.” Metro and Inglewood are coordinating a plan to better mitigate traffic around the stadium, according to the statement.  

This comes as hundreds of thousands of people descend upon Inglewood and L.A. for the World Cup. Traffic and parking remain a concern for locals, especially in light of other upcoming mega-events like the Super Bowl in 2027 and 2028 Olympics. 

Both videos caused widespread outrage because of officers’ treatment of locals. 

In the TikTok video, an officer told the group he doesn’t care that they live close — despite one person in the group saying one of the passengers has mobility issues — and that they have two options: Find parking on the street and get their car later or wait in their car until the event ends. Text over the video mentions that the traffic is due to “the FIFA event at the SoFi Stadium.” 

The officers also say they’ll leave during the video, however the passenger wrote that the officers were in front of their home from 7 to 10 p.m.  

Several comments are calling for the drivers to file a complaint with the Inglewood officials. 

In the Instagram reel, the person filming from the backseat repeatedly tells the officers that they live in the building across the street, however the officers shuts them down. 

Text over the video also explains that this occurred during the World Cup at SoFi.  

Like the comments under the TikTok post, viewers are calling for the drivers to sue Inglewood. 

Two comments under each of the videos mentions how other cities with stadium events give residents alternative parking options and routes to take home.