The Brief

At the 30-minute mark of her weekly radio show, Kennia Camacho strings together a list of events that are triggering her anxiety and stress.

The teenage daughter of an immigrant made clear in a late January broadcast that the president’s executive order to end birthright citizenship, the tech billionaires front-and-center at the inauguration and talk of dismantling the United States Department of Education have made her feel terrified and confused. She feels powerless to prevent the possible deportation of family, shocked by the ease of TikTok’s disabling — and then its sudden return — and unsure if she will continue to receive financial aid to attend college. Sharing her feelings and those of others has become the hallmark of her show, Crisis Communicator.

Camacho then switches to her listeners’ concerns. She reads aloud their names and worries, or what she refers to as their multifaceted “crisis” — a broken phone, family drama and, literally, spilled milk. She laughs, but never dismisses what anyone shares. That’s the point.

Crisis Communicator has become a place for Los Angeles teens to share how they cope with anxiety, stress and depression. This hour-long broadcast is one way of helping California youth through what has been called a mental health crisis.

Young women, and Latinas in particular, more frequently experience anxiety, depression and stress than their male counterparts. In California, girls are 1.5 times more likely than boys to report feeling nervous, hopeless, restless, worthless, depressed or that everything feels like an effort, according to a UCLA study. Nationwide, in 2021, three in five girls felt persistent feelings of sadness and hopelessness — double the rate in boys, according to a 2023 CDC study. Adult Latinas are less likely to receive support for mental health needs than whites, according to research by private health providers and government agencies.

Teenagers in California have told mental health experts they want therapists in their neighborhoods and schools who look like — and understand — them. These young people want to empower friends to support one another. They also want an end to phone hotlines that lead to transferred calls instead of help. Sharing their feelings of anxiety, stress or depression with people who can offer solutions, guidance and help is also important to them.

That’s what Camacho’s show tries to offer.

The format of Crisis Communicator, which first aired in August 2023, is simple, Camacho explained. The show begins with a song or two. She prefers upbeat music — like Harry Styles’ “Late Night Talking” or “POV” by Arianna Grande — and avoids sad music. When the music concludes, Camacho talks about what’s been going on that week in her life. At the 30-minute mark, Camacho plays Brenda Lee’s “Emotions,” a downbeat, orchestral pop song released 46 years before the teenager was born. The lyrics underscore why Camacho wants to talk: “Emotions/What are you doin?/Oh don’t you know/don’t you know you’ll be my ruin.” The song signals the transition to talk about what Camacho calls this week’s crisis — what is triggering her anxiety, causing stress or even depression.

Camacho's guests include friends, family and radio station staffers, recently including Calista Piñeda, KQBH archivist and programming intern.

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Isabel Avila

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Capital & Main

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Crisis Communicator can be silly and irreverent, like when Camacho described her period feeling like her uterus was falling out. That she’s often giggling and laughing eases tension among guests and listeners, said Stephanie Monte, youth programming director at the Boyle Heights Arts Conservatory, a visual and media arts center that provides workforce development training. The Conservatory runs KQBH-FM (101.5), the low-power radio station home to Camacho’s show.

“There’s a joy that breaks up the sense of crisis, and it carries through with her and her guests being supportive,” said Julian Montenegro, program coordinator at the Conservatory.

Mental health experts highlight the value of young people having constructive conversations about anxiety, stress and depression to release some of those feelings. Monte, at the Conservatory, notes that “there’s tons of value in a one-hour expressive outlet. ... She’s using the tools we have and helping other people.”

Crisis Communicator didn’t begin as a tool for teen mental health. The show’s title is a confession — Camacho said she felt, at the time, that she was always in crisis. She also likes to talk. So Crisis Communicator seemed like a good radio handle. But after the show’s first transmission, Camacho discovered that airing her feelings of being overwhelmed was a good way to assuage them.

The night of her first show, Camacho’s grandmother Clara was hospitalized. She died the next day. The following Friday, Crisis Communicator became a tribute to Clara. The station signal reaches only about 10 miles, but episodes stream online too. Family members in Mexico City, where her grandmother is from, listened live. Amid their collective grief, it was cathartic, according to Camacho.

She often hosts guests, including friends, family and radio station staff. They talk about their week, gossip and laugh. In August, Camacho and three friends commiserated over high school classmates leaving town to attend college elsewhere. They comforted each other, noting that the friends who remained in Los Angeles are still together. When one casually mentioned feeling like a loser for not having friends at work, the others responded with a positive affirmation: “Look in the mirror and say, ‘I’m not a loser.’”

The same year Crisis Communicator debuted, a survey and report on youth mental health was commissioned by the California Health and Human Services Agency and the Children and Youth Behavioral Health Initiative, a one-time $4.6 billion investment to improve mental health services for young Californians. Youth at the Center is based on interviews conducted at nearly 50 meetings across the state. Young people in places like Los Angeles, Monterey, Oakland, San Diego, San Francisco, Santa Clara County and Central California suggested how adults and mental health professionals might help. Comments from meetings with more than 600 people were condensed, in the report, into 12 distinct calls to action. They include reducing stigmas around mental health, improving access to therapy and support for young people and their parents.

Three themes are presented in the report: shifting thinking around mental health, reimagining services and transforming mental health systems. Important elements include providing young people more choice in their own treatment, and doing so in their neighborhoods and communities. There is also an emphasis on doing this with people they can relate to, and in ways that avoid certain types of judgment — much like on Crisis Communicator.

Camacho's show, Crisis Communicator, broadcasts locally on KQBH-FM and is streamed live online.

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Isabel Avila

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Capital & Main

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Camacho said she went through a four-month bout with depression that ended in December. She tried to avoid feeling numb by focusing on her classes, work and staying out late — “constantly moving,” as she explained.

But Camacho grew exhausted from trying to avoid her feelings, and her mother, Erindida, told her she was increasing her stresses by running away from them. Since then, she has been resting at home when she’s not at school or work. Camacho climbs into bed by 6 p.m. and watches "Bridgerton," a Netflix soap opera with lots of teen characters and courtship drama that she calls her “telenovela,” even though it’s not a Spanish-language show.

On Friday, Jan. 24, Camacho reflected on her week instead of sharing about her recent bout with depression. Her aunt lived in an apartment less than one mile from the Eaton Fire and fled to a hotel to evacuate. Within a few days, Camacho’s tía returned to her apartment despite having no power or water, and the intense stench of smoke. The family spent a weekend cleaning, but they couldn’t get the smell out of the walls. She worried about her aunt’s health. Separately, immigration raids had begun across the country that week. She has family members who are undocumented. She’s afraid they’ll be deported.

Those stories and feelings are Camacho’s, but they also reflect the concerns of many young people across Los Angeles, California and the United States. Holding onto such feelings won’t help her or her family, so she’s glad she has a way to try to process them.

“For me, it’s been my outlet,” Camacho said.

For others, Crisis Communicator can be an outlet as well.

This article was produced as a project for the USC Annenberg Center for Health Journalism’s 2024 California Health Equity Fellowship.

Copyright 2025 Capital & Main

This story first appeared on The LA Local.

Since 1977, Richard Santillan has been to every Opening Day game at Dodger Stadium. 

“The tradition goes from my father, to me, to my children and grandchildren. Some of my best memories are with my father and children here at Dodger Stadium,” Santillan told The LA Local, smiling under the shade of palm trees near the entrance to the ballpark Wednesday morning. He was there to protest the team less than 24 hours before Opening Day.

Santillan, like countless other loyal Dodgers fans, is grappling with his fan identity over the team’s decision to accept an invitation to the White House and owner Mark Walter’s ties to ICE detention facilities.

More than 30 people joined Santillan on Wednesday morning for a press conference held near 1000 Vin Scully Drive to convey a message directly to the team. 

“We are demanding the Dodgers stop participating in funding of inhumane treatment of families and do not go to the White House to celebrate with the criminal in chief,” Evelyn Escatiola told the crowd. “Together, we have the power to make a change.”

Escatiola, a former dean of East Los Angeles College and longtime community organizer, urged fans to flex their economic power by “letting the Dodgers know that we do not support repression.”

Jorge “Coqui” Rodriguez, a lifelong Dodgers fan, spoke to the crowd and called on Dodgers ownership to divest from immigration detention centers owned and operated by GEO Group and CoreCivic.

Jorge Coqui H Rodriguez speaks at a press conference outside Dodger Stadium on March 25, 2026, to demand the Dodgers not to visit the White House following their 2025 World Series win.

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J.W. Hendricks

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The LA Local

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In a phone interview a day before the protest, Rodriguez told The LA Local he did not want the Dodgers using his “cheve” or beer money to fund detention centers. 

“They can’t take our parking money, our cacahuate money, our cheve money, our Dodger Dog money and invest those funds into corporations that are imprisoning people. It’s wrong,” Rodriguez said. 

Rodriguez considers the Dodgers one of the most racially diverse teams and said the players need to support fans at a time when heightened immigration enforcement has become more common across L.A.

The team’s 2025’s visit to the White House drew ire from the largely Latino fan base, citing the Trump administration’s ongoing attacks on immigrants. 

In June, the team came under further scrutiny when rumors swirled online that federal immigration agents were using the stadium’s parking, which immigration authorities later denied in statements posted on social media accounts.

The team again came under fire after not releasing a statement on the impacts of ICE raids on its mostly Latino fan base at the height of immigration enforcement last summer. The team later agreed to invest $1 million to support families affected by immigration enforcement.

When he learned the Dodgers were pledging only $1 million to families in need, Rodriguez called the amount a  “slap in the face.” 

“These guys just bought the Lakers for billions of dollars and they give a million dollars to fight for legal services? That’s a joke,” Rodriguez said. “They need to have a moral backbone and not be investing in those companies.”

According to reporting from the Los Angeles Times, former Dodgers pitcher Clayton Kershawsaid last week that he is looking forward to the trip.

“I went when President [Joe] Biden was in office. I’m going to go when President [Donald] Trump is in office,” Kershaw said. “To me, it’s just about getting to go to the White House. You don’t get that opportunity every day, so I’m excited to go.”

The Dodgers have yet to announce when their planned visit will take place. 

Santillan sometimes laments his decision to give up his season tickets in protest of the team. His connection to the stadium and the memories he has made there with family and friends will last a lifetime, he said. On Thursday, he will uphold his tradition and be there for the first pitch of the season, but with a heavy heart.

“It’s a family tradition, but the Dodgers have a lot of work to do,” he said.

A local favorite mom-and-pop bookshop in Eagle Rock is facing displacement due to a steep rent hike. The owners say theirs is just one of several small businesses along Eagle Rock Boulevard struggling to keep up with lease increases.

Over the past 19 years, many in the neighborhood have come to love READ Books for its eclectic collection of used titles and shop dog Florence.

Co-owner Jeremy Kaplan said it’s been a delight to grow with the community over the years.

“Like seeing kids come back in, who were in grade school and now they’re in college,” Kaplan said.

But the building where Kaplan and wife Debbie rent was recently sold, and the rent increased by more than 130% to $2,805 a month, Kaplan said. He told LAist it was an increase his small business simply could not absorb.

Kaplan said he originally was given 30 days notice of the rent increase. After some research, assistance from Councilmember Ysabel Jurado’s office and some pro-bono legal help, Kaplan said he pushed back and got the 90-day notice he’s afforded by state law.

California Senate Bill 1103 requires landlords to give businesses with five or less employees 90 days’ notice for rent increases exceeding 10%, among other protections.

Systems Real Estate, the property management company, did not immediately respond to LAist’s request for comment.

What can small businesses do? 

Nadia Segura, directing attorney of the Small Business Program at pro bono legal aid non-profit Bet Tzedek said California law does not currently allow for rent control for commercial tenancies.

Outside of the protections under SB 1103, Segura said small businesses like READ Books don’t have much other recourse. And even then, commercial landlords are not required to inform their tenants of their protections under the law.

“There’s still a lot of people that don’t know about SB 1103. And then it’s very sad that they tell them they have these rent increases and within a month they have to leave,” Segura said.

She said her group is seeing steep rent hikes like this for commercial tenants across the city.

“We are seeing this even more with the World Cup coming up, the Olympics coming up. And I will say it was very sad to see that also after the wildfires,” Segura said.

Part of Bet Tzedek’s ongoing work is to advocate for small businesses, working with landlords who are increasing rents to see if they are willing to give business owners longer leases that lock in rents.

What’s next 

After READ Books posted about their situation on social media, commenters chimed in to express their outrage and love for the little shop.

While he looks for a new spot, Kaplan says he’s forming a coalition of local businesses and activist groups to see what can be done to help other small businesses facing similar displacement. He wants to address the displacement issue for businesses like his, which have made Eagle Rock the distinctive neighborhood that it is today.

Owl Talk, a longtime Eagle Rock staple selling clothing and accessories in a unit in the same building as READ Books, is facing a “more than double” rent increase, according to a post on their Instagram account.

Kaplan said he’s been in touch with the office of state Assemblywoman Jessica Caloza and wants to explore the possibility of introducing legislation to set up protections for small businesses like his, including rent-control measures or a vacancy tax for landlords. Kaplan said he also reached out to the office of state Sen. Maria Durazo.

By his count, Kaplan said there are about a dozen businesses within surrounding blocks that are at risk of closing their doors or have shuttered due to rent increases or other struggles.

When READ Books was founded during the Great Recession, Kaplan said he knew it was a longshot to open a bookstore at the same time so many were struggling to stay in business.

“It was kind of interesting to be doing something that neighborhoods needed. That was important to me growing up, that was important to my children, that was important to my wife growing up,” Kaplan said.

“And then somebody comes in and says, ‘We’re gonna over double your rent.”

Topline:

Frozen budget: Most of the city’s Bureau of Street Lighting budget comes from an assessment that people who own property illuminated by lights pay on their county property tax bill. The amount people pay depends on the kind of property they own and how much they benefit from lighting. A typical single-family home currently pays $53 annually, and in total, the assessments bring in about $45 million annually for the city to repair and maintain streetlights. Changing the amount the Bureau of Street Lighting gets from the assessment requires a vote among property owners who benefit from the lights.

Ballots: L.A. City Council’s vote gives city staff the green light to prepare and send out those ballots. Miguel Sangalang, who oversees the bureau, said at a committee meeting earlier this month that he expects to send out ballots by April 17. Notices about the ballots will be sent out prior to the ballots themselves.

Near unanimous vote: L.A. City Councilmember Monica Rodriguez was the only “No” vote Tuesday, saying she wanted to see a more current strategic plan for the bureau. Sangalang said the bureau developed a plan in 2022 that lays out how money will be spent. Councilmember Imelda Padilla was absent for the vote.

Vote count: Votes will be weighted according to the assessment amount. Basically, the more you’re asked to pay yearly to maintain streetlights, the more your vote will count. Ballots received before June 2 will be tabulated by the L.A. City Clerk.

How much more money: According to a report, the amount needed in assessments from property owners to meet the repair and maintenance needs of the city’s streetlighting in the next fiscal year is nearly $112 million.

Use of the money: Sangalang said at a March 11 committee meeting that the extra funds would be used to double the number of staff to handle repairs and procure solar streetlights, which don’t face the threat of copper wire theft. That would all potentially reduce the time it takes to repair simple fixes down to a week. Currently, city residents wait for months to see broken streetlights repaired. The assessment would come with a three-year auditing mechanism.