The Brief

Sixteen-year-old AB Hernandez is a natural athlete.

On a recent blustery afternoon, she stood at the edge of Jurupa Valley High School’s athletic field, waiting for her event at a track and field meet to be called. As a voice announced over the loudspeaker, “Girls Triple Jump!,” she ran to take her place. On her turn, she broke into a measured, high stride, arms swinging in time with her legs. She quickened her pace and hurtled towards a sand pit. As she reached her mark, she flung herself high into the air and forwards several meters. She quickly pointed her toes and reached her arms forward as she descended, finally splashing down into the sand. Cheers erupted from the stands while she rolled onto her stomach, stood and ran to her friends, smiling.

Hernandez is the transgender athlete who was thrown into the national spotlight after the president of a nearby school board doxxed her — revealing her name, her high school and the fact that she is trans. Since then, Hernandez has been seen her name in Newsweek and The Washington Post. She has been smeared on right-wing podcasts and harassed online; some of her antagonists have even shown up at her track meets.

A small faction of adults have made AB Hernandez the face of a campaign to rewrite California law that has allowed transgender children to play on their school’s sports teams for over a decade. None of them has children enrolled in the Jurupa Valley Unified School District; several homeschool their kids.

“This is all child abuse,” Nereyda Hernandez, AB’s mother, told Capital & Main in an exclusive interview. “They just need to leave my baby alone.”

The Hernandez family has lived in Jurupa Valley, an equestrian, mostly Latino city of about 106,000, for nearly 30 years. AB grew up, the youngest of four sisters, like many other local kids: on a ranch surrounded by family. Her grandparents immigrated to the United States from Mexico and El Salvador, and instilled a strong sense of faith and tradition into the family. Nereyda, who became a widow in her early 20s, raised her children regularly attending a Catholic church.

Nereyda did not know her daughter was trans until AB was in the eighth grade.

“I was accidentally asked about her. I just said, ‘I’m just letting her be her,’ but I really didn’t know,” she recalled. Nereyda said she did not always understand her daughter’s experience, but made a point to educate herself. “As long as in your household, your child has that support, you stand behind your child, then they’re gonna be OK. I’m gonna stand behind her 120%. That’s my job as a mom.”

In 2013, then-California Gov. Jerry Brown signed the School Success and Opportunity Act into law, ensuring that transgender youth can fully participate in all school activities, sports teams, programs, and facilities that match their gender identity. This past February, President Donald Trump banned transgender women and girls from college women’s and high school girls’ sports teams. The California Interscholastic Federation (CIF) stated in response to Trump’s action that it would allow trans athletes to compete under existing California law. Shortly afterwards, the U.S. Department of Education announced a Title IX investigation into CIF for its policy allowing transgender high school athletes to play girls’ sports. Title IX is a federal law aimed at preventing gender discrimination in education.

“There is the threat from the federal government to withhold funding. [And] there’s threats from the state government to withhold funding if we violate laws,” Superintendent Trenton Hansen said at the Jurupa Unified School District Board of Education’s March meeting. “Unfortunately, school districts are placed in the middle of this tug of war. All the information we’ve received from legal counsel … is that we follow the laws here in California, that [Trump’s] executive orders do not carry the weight of the force of law, and that these issues will need to be figured out in the court system.”

Many residents of Jurupa Valley, which Trump won by two points in November, have united in support of AB.

“Our community is in 100% support of our neighbors,” said Armando Carmona, a member of Jurupa Valley’s City Council. “I’ve extended 100% support to our young athlete, who’s competing at the highest level in high school, because they’re competing within the current rules. In this community we can talk about federal issues, we talk about state or even global issues. But at the end of the day, we all realize we’re neighbors first.”

City Council Member Armando Carmona stands outside Jurupa Valley City Hall.

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Five parents of children enrolled in JUSD schools who spoke with Capital & Main said they fully support AB competing.

“It’s not about the divide of the topic, it’s about the well-being of a child, that all she wants to do is play sports,” said Veronica Hurtado, whose son attends a local high school. “As a mom, I can assure you there’s not a mother in this community that wouldn’t agree with me when they say you’re worried about her safety and her mental health.”

Hurtado says she can relate to Nereyda Hernandez. When Hurtado’s daughter, Molly Ramirez, came out a lesbian, she says she was pressured by an administrator to stay in the closet. Hurtado promptly moved her daughter to a different school. Today, her daughter runs the family’s feed store, and says she feels accepted by the community.

“I have a lot of younger people generations younger than me that are coming out. And my goal is to make them comfortable,” Ramirez said. “I feel like that’s what our community is about.”

Molly Ramirez tends to one of her family’s horses.

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AB has been athletic her entire life. She has done tumbling, hip-hop dance, cheerleading, soccer, baseball and volleyball. Her mother says that sports has helped AB navigate difficult circumstances in the past, like the sudden death of Nereyda’s parents in 2021 from COVID-19 complications, and becoming the subject of a national debate.

“I think that [sports] is her way of coping with things. This is, in a sense, therapy,” she said. “’Cause at the beginning, I was worried about suicidal thoughts. I’ve always been scared of people hurting her.”

The onslaught against AB has been led by a former teacher and nearby school board president. Jessica Tapia, a former gym teacher at Jurupa Valley High School, was fired in January 2023 after stating she would not respect trans and nonbinary students’ pronouns — a violation of district policy. She began posting about AB on her social media pages in October 2024. Tapia was joined by five others at the Jurupa Unified School District Board of Education’s March meeting, where they misgendered AB repeatedly and demanded the board stop AB from competing.

“We know deep down in our heart this isn’t normal and it isn’t right,” Tapia said in an interview. “Any time that I have an opportunity to speak into an issue, especially a tip of the spear, hot topic issue, I take it as God calling me to use my voice, my experience, my platform, my influence to speak the truth.”

Sonja Shaw, president of the Chino Valley Unified School District and candidate for California Superintendent of Schools, began collaborating with Tapia’s Instagram posts about AB in February. One of those posts included the 16-year-old’s full name, and the name of her high school. Nereyda Hernandez subsequently sent a cease-and-desist to Tapia and Shaw, which Shaw tore up at a Board of Education meeting while deliberately misgendering AB.

“I stand with parents, athletes, and coaches who demand real fairness in sports and privacy protections for all students,” Shaw said in a statement to Capital & Main. “We will not be silenced, and we will not stop fighting until girls receive the respect, opportunities, and safety they deserve. Enough is enough.”

California Gov. Gavin Newsom recently spoke to right-wing influencer Charlie Kirk about AB on the debut episode of his podcast “This Is Gavin Newsom.”

“It is an issue of fairness — it’s deeply unfair,” Newsom told Kirk. “I am not wrestling with the fairness issue. I totally agree with you.”

AB Hernandez is currently ranked third in the United States for triple jump behind two girls from high schools in Texas and Arizona, two states that have banned gender-affirming care for trans children.

Nereyda Hernandez said she wished the governor had stopped the conversation when her daughter was mentioned. Jurupa Valley City Councilmember Carmona agreed.

“Bringing in a minor, a minor of color into this worldwide debate or discussion … is a major challenge and it’s problematic,” Carmona said. “We have a family that’s been harassed and attacked by extremists on one side targeting a child.”

Newsom’s office did not respond to multiple requests for comment about the Hernandez family’s concerns.

During a Friday afternoon visit to her church, Nereyda spoke to her priest about her daughter becoming the target of a hate campaign. He encouraged her to love her daughter, and to have her confirmed in the church.

In May, AB will compete at the CIF California State Track and Field Championships in Clovis, California. Nereyda says she and her daughter are looking forward to it.

“I hope that it has a positive impact, not just for my child, but for the future, for the future athletes,” Nereyda said. “And I tell my baby, ‘I really think and I really hope you open doors for other kids to be able to come out and live happy, because I see my baby’s happy being herself.’”

All photos by Jeremy Lindenfeld.

Copyright Capital & Main 2025

In Los Angeles, the soundtrack is familiar. Car horns, the whine of leaf blowers.

But in the middle of Chinatown, another sound cuts through the din: the rhythmic hum of washers and dryers from a trailer parked outside the Alpine Recreation Center.

Chinatown hasn’t had a laundromat for as long as anyone around can remember. This mobile setup – run by the nonprofit The Laundry Truck LA – has become the neighborhood’s de facto laundromat, offering the service for free to locals, twice a week.

For 70-year-old Sam Ma, it’s been a relief.

Ma, a retired construction worker, picked up freshly-laundered items — two pairs of pants, a hat, and some socks, bundled in a white garbage bag for the bus ride home.

He usually washes his clothes by hand. But about two weeks ago, he was hit by a car. Bruises and cuts cover his hands, making it difficult to scrub heavier items.

“The things I can wash, I wash,” he said in Mandarin. “But these are too thick. It’s too hard.”

Rebel Fox of The Laundry Truck L.A. hands a garbage bag filled with newly-laundered sheets to a local.

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Nearby, Laundry Truck employee Rebel Fox checked him out with a clipboard after handing him his load.

“We help a lot of seniors out here,” Fox said. “And we offer folding services, too. It really helps people who don’t have the dexterity in their hands.”

The Laundry Truck started out in 2019 providing laundry services to people experiencing homelessness across Los Angeles and has expanded to high-need communities, like Eaton Fire survivors.

In February, the nonprofit started operating in Chinatown under a year-long contract with Council District 1, showing up every Wednesday and Thursday at 9 a.m.

A sink or bathtub

Chinatown advocates say the lack of a laundromat is especially hard on low-income tenants living in older, neglected buildings.

“These landlords aren’t doing much to keep it updated,” said Sissy Trinh, executive director of the Southeast Asian Community Alliance.

Maintaining laundry rooms may require major plumbing upgrades and hookups that many landlords avoid.

Newly-constructed residential buildings are typically being constructed with in-unit laundry.

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Advocates say in buildings that do have shared coin-operated machines, they may be broken or in constant use. Many residents decide to launder clothes by hand — in sinks or bathtubs.

“In one building, the sinks were so small, people had to cut their sheets in half just to wash them,” Trinh said. “They’d wash one half, then the other.”

A reversal of access

Those who could benefit from a laundromat include seniors on fixed incomes, and workers living paycheck to paycheck, including garment workers and home health aides.

“You’re talking about low-income, financially-stressed households,” Paul Ong said.

Ong, who studies urban inequality at UCLA, says Chinatown reflects a broader pattern: as neighborhoods change, basic services can disappear.

Each pile of dirty clothes is labeled with customers' names.

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The neighborhood’s last full-service grocery store closed in 2019 after the property was sold to a developer. Meanwhile, new market-rate housing has gone up, catering to higher-income residents with amenities like parking and in-unit laundry.

“The irony is that historically, laundry was bread and butter for the Chinese community,” Ong said.

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Chinese immigrants built livelihoods around laundry work — one of the few industries open to them at the time.

Nowadays, laundry options have become hard to come by.

Seeking a lasting fix

Residents without access to machines have to leave the neighborhood entirely to find a laundromat in Lincoln Heights or Echo Park, which has seen its own laundromats disappear.

Laundry can be spotted drying on balconies across Chinatown.

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“The long-term, permanent solution is that a laundry service opens up,” in the neighborhood, said Council member Eunisses Hernandez, who represents Chinatown.

Hernandez says constituents have asked for a laundromat from the time she was knocking on doors as a City Council candidate.

Hernandez, who is up for re-election this year, says the neighborhood could benefit from a community-run laundromat offering affordable services.

“If private industry is not making that investment in Chinatown then perhaps it’s up to the city – and the people of that neighborhood – to build something for them,” she said.

In the meantime, Hernandez has directed about $250,000 from her district — using TFAR payments from developers building larger projects — to cover a year of mobile laundry services.

The contract with the Laundry Truck runs through next February.

After that?

“We’ll keep filling the gap until we get to a permanent solution,” Hernandez said.

Could that solution be combined with housing?

Some community advisors to a new affordable housing project being developed on the northwestern edge of Chinatown have been pushing for a self-service laundry that would be open to other neighborhood residents, says Eugene Moy who sits on the advisory board of New High Village.

But any fix will take time. That project, Moy said, could be two years out from even breaking ground.

Taking a load off 

Back at the truck, the machines continue to spin. By mid-afternoon, nearly 18 loads of laundry are done.

The trailer for the LA Laundry Truck is set up outside the Alpine Recreation Center, across from Castelar Elementary School.

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Two months in, there are kinks to work out. How to get more residents to take advantage of the unit's capacity? Its machines can churn out 40 loads per shift.

There is also the question of whether some seniors are physically able to transport their laundry even a few blocks.

But the service is starting to get regulars. One woman on her second visit stood by the trailer, cradling just-washed clothes in her arms while clutching her daughter's teddy bear, now a sparkling white.

"If it keeps going, I'll keep coming," said the woman who gave her last name as Mo. "It's very convenient."

Her apartment building doesn’t have a laundry room. Sometimes she asks a friend next door if she can use theirs. With three children, the cost adds up quickly.

Thinking aloud, she calculated how much she saved that day.

About $8, she estimated — money she said could now spend on her kids.

At Cesar Chavez Park in Pomona, a mural depicts the now-disgraced farm worker leader from the waist-up, in a serene, almost Buddha-like pose. To his left, a lady justice figure holds the scales of justice and on the right, there are images of farm workers toiling in a field. Chavez looks like a saint.

One of five murals at Cesar Chavez Park in Pomona, painted by Paul Botello.

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“And that's what people thought he was,” said Pomona Mayor Tim Sandoval as he stood in front of the mural.

But after several women stepped forward accusing the late labor icon of sexual assault, that view has radically changed. Now there are calls to remove his image from public spaces, widely impacting Southern California, which has a large concentration of murals, plaques, street names, and statues dedicated to him.

But do the entire murals have to be removed, or can there be a more nuanced approach to the re-evaluation of Chavez’s legacy — a re-evaluation that doesn’t throw the baby out with the bathwater?

This week, the artist Paul Botello, Pomona Mayor Sandoval, and Pitzer College Emeritus Professor José Calderón, a former activist who was involved in getting the murals painted, met up at the park, in the shadow of the busy 57 freeway, to discuss how to go forward.

The story behind the murals

In the early 2000s violence between Black and Latino gang members gripped Pomona.

“When a young Latino was killed, we actually did a march all the way from City Hall to what is now this park,” said Calderón.

Calderon helped organize that march. He said activists were inspired by something Chavez liked to say, that when you get angry, don’t take it out on others — organize.

So they lobbied for the park, which was filled with trash and syringes, to be cleaned up and made family friendly. And because they used his quote, it was named Cesar Chavez Park.

Cesar Chavez Park in Pomona was dedicated after activists lobbied the City of Pomona to help curb gang violence.

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Muralist Paul Botello was chosen to create five murals at the park that depicted Chavez from youth, through his service in the U.S. Navy during World War Two, to key moments during his farm worker activism.

Today, while he feels betrayed by Chavez, he’s also keen to preserve parts of the murals which tell the bigger story of the exploitation of farm workers and the fight to improve their conditions.

While California state law says an artist must be consulted if there are any proposed changes to a mural, the ultimate decision will be made by Pomona City Council.

Sandoval said he has not received calls or emails at City Hall. But people in his various social and civic circles have told him, he says, that Chavez’s images should be removed.

Paul Botello holds mock-ups of changes he'd like to make to his murals of Cesar Chavez at a park in Pomona.

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Botello had brought mock-ups of the alterations he’d like to make to each mural. For the mural which depicts Chavez in a Buddha-like pose, for example, he wants to replace his face with the face of a farmworker wearing a hat.

He also wants to keep much of another mural, which depicts Chavez as a teenager in a suit surrounded by boys and girls sitting on rows of tilled soil. His one change is to turn the image of Chavez into a Zoot Suiter, a rebellious Mexican American youth from the mid 20th century.

A mural by Paul Botello depicts Cesar Chavez and children on a farm.

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“ 95 percent is going to be there because it just represents all the youth who also toil in the field to help their parents,” he said.

Calderon agrees with these more targeted changes. He fears painting over the murals entirely would erase the neighborhood activism that led to the creation of this park.

He’s also concerned their removal would give fuel to people who oppose Latino activism and the growing movement in public education to require the teaching of Latino history.

“The right and the white supremacists are already using it to say, ‘see this is what we told you about Cesar being anti-immigrant’”, he said. “But now they're going a little bit further and they want to wipe out ethnic studies”.

A mural at Cesar Chavez Park in Pomona.

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While Botello wants to keep the mural of Chavez serving in the U.S. Navy, because he believes it's important to show that Latinos have contributed to this country's military, he’s keen to make a change in the fifth mural.

It depicts a young man and woman above the phrase “Sí se puede,” the famous farmworker slogan, “yes, we can.”

The young man is clearly Chavez. Botello says he wants to replace it with the face of Dolores Huerta, the woman who led the United Farm Workers with Chavez and has accused Chavez of rape.

Mayor Sandoval says he plans to bring up Botello’s proposals at the next city council meeting.

There’s a fair amount of recreational activities Angelenos can do in and around the Los Angeles River like biking, walking, even kayaking, but did you know you can also dance in the dry river bed of a Los Angeles icon?

Adam Weiss, founder of the Gratitude Group leans over and DJs a set at his Los Angeles River dance party.

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Dancing in the sun

Adam Weiss is the founder of the Gratitude Group, a club that hosts various events across Los Angeles like dance parties at the River, a screen-free reading club at the Central Library and meditative sound baths at Elysian Park. That’s just this weekend alone.

Weiss has been hosting the free dance parties for about two years now. The locations vary. Previously he’s held them at the Elysian Park helipad.

“Everybody wants to dance, they're just waiting to be invited to dance, and then if you're a good DJ, you just keep the floor packed,” said Weiss, who also deejays these events. Lately it's been a lot of disco, funk and soul. Weiss also likes to keep the gatherings dry, meaning no drugs or alcohol. He thinks it makes people engage with each other more.

“So the focus really is on connection and dancing,” Weiss said.

Attendees of the Los Angeles River dance party move to the music.

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Ariana Valencia lives in Burbank and attended last month's dance party, also at the L.A. River. She says dancing in the middle of the concrete riverbed made the city feel like a playground that she could explore.

“I’d never been to the L.A. River prior to that. You think it’s just a little swampy little pond, but it was actually really full,” said Valencia. “I would have never thought that was in the middle of the city.”

Uniquely Los Angeles

Weiss says part of the appeal is not just getting people outside but to get them to experience Los Angeles differently.

At the last event, people walking or biking along the river path joined on a whim — some even brought their kids. Weiss says that’s exactly the kind of reaction he hopes for.

“ I want it to be family friendly. I want it to feel welcoming. I want it to be inclusive,” Weiss said. “My main thing is I just want people to actually dance. I think it feels good to dance.”

A woman and two children join in on the dance party.

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For Valencia that inclusiveness is part of the draw. She says she’ll be joining again this Sunday.

“Even though it wasn’t advertised as a dry event I think the fact that it was a family friendly kind of thing was appealing to me,” said Valencia.

Join the party

After the last dance party went viral, Weiss says more than 1,500 people have RSVP-ed for tomorrow's event. This compelled him to close reservations.

Weiss plans to hold the event every other week this Spring and Summer — taking place either at the River or the Elysian Field Helipad with its amazing view of the city.

Weiss wants to start branching out too, and is eyeing the Culver City Stairs as a possible location.

“ I just wanna bring people to cool interesting places to dance,” Weiss said.

The immigration detention center closest to Los Angeles has placed dozens of people in solitary confinement each month since June, according to the most recent data from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

In May 2025, the Adelanto ICE Processing Center had 14 people in isolation. When the Trump administration’s mass deportation effort revved up in June 2025, the number of detainees in solitary confinement there more than tripled. By July, it was 73; by August, 105.

The most recent data available shows that number went down slightly in January, to 74 people.

Ranked by percentage of the detainee population in “segregation,” as it is called at immigrant detention centers, Adelanto is among the U.S.’s top 10 facilities as of January, according to an LAist analysis of the most recent ICE data.

The data shows that of 229 ICE facilities that reported holding people since October 2024, between 50 and 60 usually reported putting at least one person in segregation in a given month. Out of the facilities that did place people in solitary confinement, Adelanto tended to do so less often than others until June 2025. (The facility held just a few people from October 2024 into January 2025.) When ICE’s presence increased in L.A. in June, the number of people sent to isolation in the facility also shot up — three to five times as many people have been isolated in Adelanto compared to the average facility that used any solitary confinement.

Since June, only two facilities have sent people to solitary confinement more times than Adelanto: one southwest of San Antonio, the other in central Pennsylvania.

Both of those facilities held twice the number of detainees as Adelanto on average from October 2024 through September 2025; but the number of people held in Adelanto since then has tripled, growing larger than either of the other facilities to hold an average of 1,800 people a day since October.

More on solitary confinement  

According to ICE, detainees may be placed in segregation for “disciplinary reasons,” or because of:

• “Serious mental or medical illness.”
• Conducting a hunger strike.
• Suicide watch.

The agency also says it might place detainees “who may be susceptible to harm [if left among the] general population due in part to how others interpret or assume their sexual orientation, or sexual presentation or expression.”

Not only is ICE holding more people in solitary confinement, but the agency's data also shows that detainees across the country are being isolated for longer periods of time. Detainees ICE considers part of the "vulnerable & special population" spent an average of about two weeks in solitary confinement each time they were isolated in 2022, when ICE first made the data available. By the end of 2025, the average stay in isolation had risen to more than seven weeks straight.

The GEO Group Inc., a private company that operates the Adelanto ICE Processing Center, has not responded to requests for comment.

How isolation can affect immigrant detainees  

UN human rights experts consider solitary confinement placements that last 15 days or more to be torture, though the U.S. Supreme Court has held that isolation doesn’t violate the Constitution.

The UN also maintains that solitary confinement should be prohibited for people “with mental or physical disabilities when their conditions would be exacerbated by such measures.”

In January, a coalition of immigrant rights groups filed a federal lawsuit on behalf of current detainees, calling for conditions at Adelanto to be improved. In addition to an unsanitary environment and a lack of healthy food and clean drinking water, detainees say solitary confinement is frequently used to punish those who speak out about conditions at the facility.

People held in immigrant detention centers are technically in “civil detention,” meaning that they are being detained to ensure their presence at hearings and compliance with immigration orders — not to serve criminal sentences.

According to the immigrant rights groups’ complaint, one detainee was placed in solitary confinement after complaining about the showers being broken. Another detainee said that, after asking a guard to “use more respectful language toward him, he was ridiculed, written up and given the middle finger by a guard who shouted, ‘Who the f--- do you think you are?’” Then, the detainee was placed in solitary confinement for 25 days.

Alvaro Huerta, the director of litigation and advocacy at the Immigrant Defenders Law Center who is representing detainees at Adelanto, told LAist that when people are placed in isolation at the facility, they’re typically in the same cell for 23 hours per day, unable to receive visits from their families.

For clients who are experiencing mental health challenges — especially those with suicidal thoughts — being placed in solitary confinement “can really exacerbate their condition,” he added.

In multiple statements to the media, ICE has said that the agency “is committed to ensuring that all those in custody reside in safe, secure and humane environments.” The agency has also said that detainees receive “comprehensive medical care” and that all detainees “receive medical, dental, and mental health intake screenings within 12 hours of arriving at each detention facility.”

Huerta called that “laughable.”

“We have countless examples of people who have said that this is not true, that they're not getting the medication that they're requesting, that they're not being seen for chronic conditions and emergency conditions,” he added. “And we know it's not true because 14 people have died in ICE custody this year alone.”