The Brief

One recent morning, Andrea López León swept the hardwood floor of a three-bedroom house in Alhambra, part of her regular cleaning routine as she prepared to mop.

She pulled out a bottle of old-fashioned oil soap. “Since it’s wood, we use a special oil (soap) for wood,” she explained in Spanish.

The floor cleaner she uses is also a product that she considers safe. This is by design.

When López began working for this family a couple of years ago, she asked her employer for a contract, “a written contract in which we ensure my health and safety,” López told LAist, “mine as well as hers.”

The gist of the contract between López and her employer, Marba Reyes, is simple.

"I’m not going to use chemicals,” López said. “They’ll give me my lunch hour. If I work a long day, they can pay me extra hours. And I am not going to lift heavy objects, so as to not hurt my back.”

Domestic employees are excluded from many labor laws

Safety rules for domestic workers are not the norm. Domestic employees, many of them immigrants, are excluded from many labor laws, and there are no official workplace safety regulations for domestic work. Household domestic workers are excluded from protection under California’s Occupational Safety and Health Act.

Worker advocates have long argued that workplace safety regulations for domestic employees are needed, given the harsh cleaning chemicals used, heavy lifting at times, and the risk of slips and falls.

Andrea López, a domestic worker, cleans a home in Los Angeles.

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Samanta Helou Hernandez

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In California there have been two recent legislative attempts to include domestic work in Cal/OSHA safety regulations, both vetoed by Gov. Gavin Newsom. Last September, in his veto message for the most recent bill, Newsom said homes can’t be regulated like traditional businesses. He was also concerned about the bill, which included potential fines, creating cost burdens for lower-income domestic employers “given that approximately 44% of the households that employ domestic workers are low-income themselves,” the veto message read.

Domestic worker advocates say they’ll try for legislation again.

“With the right guidance, and by making guidance more accessible to employers, employers will see it's actually not that onerous,” said Maegan Ortiz, executive director of the Instituto de Educación Popular del Sur de California, or IDEPSCA, a group that helps domestic workers organize.

The accessible guidance she refers to are new voluntary health and safety guidelines for domestic work, as well as day laborers, that were issued by California’s Department of Industrial Relations early this year. The most recent bill incorporated them. These voluntary guidelines, the nation’s first, are not enforceable, but they act as a template for domestic employers and employees to understand best practices when it comes to workplace health and safety concerns. Among other things, this includes identifying and controlling workplace hazards, and agreeing on tasks to be done.

“Not only does it protect the worker, it protects the employer as well…and the household of the employer,” Ortiz said. “These are commonplace things and common sense things that really we all should be doing in our homes anyway.”

In the meantime, some domestic workers have drawn advice from worker advocates and are taking it upon themselves to negotiate safety agreements where they work.

Heavy lifting and a miscarriage

Andrea López said she learned about workplace safety the hard way. In 2015, she’d only been in the United States for two years after arriving from Veracruz, Mexico. López was working for another employer then, a restaurant owner; she said she worked both in the restaurant and cleaning her supervisor’s home.

That year, López learned that she was pregnant. One day while cleaning the house, her employer asked her to carry a heavy plastic container full of water.

“I had told her I was pregnant, that I couldn’t,” López said, but her employer insisted. López, fearing for her restaurant job, complied.

“And then, I felt like something was tearing in my belly,” López said. “That was a Saturday at 5 p.m. The next morning, Sunday at 10 a.m., I was already bleeding.”

López suffered a miscarriage. The loss was devastating, she said, but it steeled her resolve to learn now to push back. Eventually López joined a domestic worker rights group and learned to advocate for herself with employers.

“Now, every time I go with an employer, I talk with them about that,” she said.

Andrea López worked with the Reyes family, one of her clients, to create a contract to ensure her safety on the job.

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When she interviewed with the Alhambra family a couple of years ago, López asked if they’d be up for a contract with basic safety rules. Her new employer, Marba Reyes, was on board.

“I agree with her,” said Reyes, who works as a massage therapist. “Of course I’ll be taking care of her, I know that cleaning houses is not an easy job, you know.”

Reyes, who lives with her elderly parents, already used simple cleaning products, “just like water and vinegar…only like healthy stuff.”

A sympathetic employer

The family’s personal experience plays a role, too. Both of Reyes’s parents are immigrants themselves.

“I’m also from Mexico,” said Marta Rolón, Reyes’s mother. “And I arrived here doing the same thing.”

Rolón said she took cleaning work in San Marino as a new arrival, before she married her husband, who is from Puerto Rico. Rólon said she understands what it’s like.

“I also had to do it, so we’re going to treat her well, and help her as much as we can,” she said.

Andrea López with her daughter Samara.

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López says things have gone well since. These days, she’s only cleaning for this family because she’s working part-time. That’s because López and her husband, who works in a restaurant, recently welcomed a new baby girl.

She said this time during her pregnancy, “I tried to take care of myself, and they took care of me.”

Her employers have gifted her baby clothes. There’s also a perk to working for a massage therapist: After cleaning, López gets to unwind her back on one of the automatic massage beds that Reyes uses for clients.

López also hopes there can be official safety rules one day for the work she does. But even if it’s just using the voluntary guidelines, she hopes to see more domestic employees and their employers agreeing on best practices.

“It would prevent miscarriages, it would prevent injuries,” she said. “We are human beings.”

Raul Malo, the leader of the country band The Mavericks and one of the most recognizable voices in roots music, died Monday night, according to a representative of the band. The guitarist and singer had been battling cancer.

He was hospitalized last week, forcing him to miss tribute shows staged in his honor at the Ryman Auditorium over the weekend. He was 60 years old.

"No one embodied life and love, joy and passion, family, friends, music and adventure the way our beloved Raul did," read a statement released by his family.

Malo's group, The Mavericks, mourned the loss of their leader in a social post.

"Anyone with the pleasure of being in Raul's orbit knew that he was a force of human nature, with an infectious energy," the statement read. "Over a career of more than three decades entertaining millions around the globe, his towering creative contributions and unrivaled, generational talent created the kind of multicultural American music reaching far beyond America itself."

Over a career that lasted four decades, The Mavericks lived up to the band's name, challenging expectations and following a roadmap crafted by Malo's expansive musical upbringing as the son of Cuban immigrants in Miami.

"I grew up in a very musical household. There was all kinds of music around always," he told WHYY's Fresh Air in 1995. "We listened to everything from Hank Williams to Celia Cruz to Sam Cooke to Bobby Darin. It didn't matter."

In 1992, Malo told NPR that his widespread influences weren't always understood or appreciated in his South Florida hometown, but he said that his struggle to fit in taught him to trust his instincts. Malo had become the guitarist and lead singer for The Mavericks in 1989, alongside co-founders Robert Reynolds and Paul Deakin, and his roaring, sentimental voice defined the band's sound and remained its constant as the group's catalog moved from slow, tender ballads to full-throttle rock songs. In 1995, the band released its biggest hit with "All You Ever Do Is Bring Me Down," a swinging country song featuring an assist from Tex-Mex accordion legend Flaco Jimenez.

As the band grew in members and devoted listeners, The Mavericks continued to push the boundaries of American music, weaving a richly layered tapestry of textures and stories. With more than a dozen studio albums, The Mavericks collected praise and recognition from the Academy of Country Music, the Country Music Association and the Recording Academy. Although they took a hiatus for several years, Malo never stopped making music — and returned to his bandmates with renewed inspiration.

Following its 30th anniversary, the group released its first full-length Spanish album in 2020, aptly titled En Español. The record reimagined Latin standards and folklore-tinged popular tunes; it also made an implicit political statement about Latin music's contributions to American culture.

"In our own little way, if we could get somebody that perhaps is on the fence on issues and hears us singing in Spanish and perhaps reminds them of the beautiful cultures that make up what this country is trying to be and what it should be, so be it," Malo told NPR at the time. "Yeah, I'm OK with that."

The following year, the Americana Music Association recognized The Mavericks with the Trailblazer Award. In 2024, the band released its last studio album, Moon & Stars. The release coincided with news of Malo's cancer diagnosis, which he discussed openly with NPR's Ayesha Rascoe.

Before being hospitalized last week, Malo had been scheduled to perform with The Mavericks at a pair of tribute concerts held this past weekend at the legendary Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. Over 30 artists, including Patty Griffin, Jim Lauderdale and Steve Earle, still gathered to pay tribute to Malo, with some of the proceeds of the night going to the cancer prevention organization Stand Up To Cancer.

According to his spokesperson, though Malo was too ill to attend, the concert was streamed to his hospital room Friday night.

Copyright 2025 NPR

The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department has mostly blocked efforts to investigate misconduct within its ranks, according to the county inspector general, who announced his retirement Tuesday after 12 years on the job.

In an open letter, Max Huntsman cited examples of how the county has thwarted his efforts to watchdog the department, which in the past has been plagued with accusations that deputies use excessive force and lie on the job.

Huntsman said one example is former Sheriff Alex Villanueva’s misuse of criminal enforcement powers to discredit critics, such as opening an investigation into former County Supervisor Sheila Kuehl.

Villanueva was sheriff from 2018 to 2022.

“My requests for investigation were rejected,” Huntsman’s letter reads. “Even after receiving an official subpoena, the Sheriff’s Department has failed to turn over records regarding the improper surveillance.”

He added: “Sometimes members of the public wonder if frightening new surveillance techniques will be used for improper purposes under the guise of criminal investigation. Sadly, the answer is yes.”

Before becoming inspector general in 2013, Huntsman, 60, was a deputy district attorney who specialized in public corruption. He told LAist on Tuesday that the inspector general job wasn’t something he wanted initially.

“I didn’t want to go work for politicians,” he said. “But the need to provide some kind of independent reporting and analysis was significant.”

The Sheriff’s Department issued a statement saying it valued the Office of the Inspector General and all county oversight bodies and that it wished Huntsman and his family well in his retirement.

The department said it “continues to make great strides in advancing the department in a transparent manner.”

LAist also reached out to the county CEO and county counsel for comment, but they declined.

After George Floyd

In the letter, Huntsman says the state of California has come a long way in strengthening the power of local law enforcement oversight bodies, in part because of the 2020 murder of George Floyd by police in Minneapolis.

After widespread protests — and lobbying by Huntsman — the state provided authority to inspectors general to enforce subpoenas requiring law enforcement agencies to hand over documents and authorized external investigation of police misconduct, including deputy gang conduct.

The Sheriff’s Department — backed by county lawyers — has resisted.

“Los Angeles County may not follow those laws, but it will not be able to avoid them forever,” Huntsman wrote. “The county refuses to require the photographing of suspected gang tattoos in secretive groups that the undersheriff has identified as violating state law.”

“Just a few weeks ago, we requested some information regarding an investigation, and a pair of commanders refused to give it to us,” Huntsman said in an interview with LAist.

Origin of the office 

The Inspector General’s Office was created by the county Board of Supervisors in 2013 in response to a scandal that included former Sheriff Lee Baca covering up the abuses of jail inmates.

Baca went to federal prison.

Since then, the office has issued dozens of reports with recommendations for improving living conditions inside jails that some have described as “filthy,” stopping abuses of juveniles inside juvenile halls and providing shower privacy for inmates as part of the requirements under the Prison Rape Elimination Act.

“All of these abuses were reported by the Office of Inspector General and recommendations were ignored,” Huntsman wrote. Often, it took court orders to enact change.

“When we first blew the whistle on the torturous chaining of mentally ill prisoners to benches for 36 hours at a time, it was only a court order that ended the practice,” he wrote. “Time and time again, this pattern repeated itself.”

Huntsman wrote the county has permitted the Sheriff’s Department to block oversight and defunded the Office of Inspector General by removing a third of its staff.

“It's not surprising the county has driven out two successive chairs of the Sheriff Civilian Oversight Commission,” he wrote.

“Government always claims to value transparency and accountability, but shooting the messenger is still the most common response to criticism,” Huntsman wrote.

Despite setbacks, Huntsman values work 

Huntsman told LAist on Tuesday that he was proud of his career as a public servant.

“I’ve really enjoyed the work and I’m sad to have it end,” he said.

It’s a sentiment he echoed in his letter, adding that despite the setbacks and roadblocks, he was proud of the people with whom he shared the office.

“It has been my honor to work with a talented, brave and tireless group of public servants to ensure that the public knows what its government is doing,” he wrote.

He noted the inspector general’s reports are fact-checked by the office and public.

“When government abuses occur, they are sometimes kept secret, but that is no longer the case for much of what is happening in Los Angeles County,” Huntsman wrote. “What you do about it is up to you.,”

Huntsman’s last day is Friday.

Topline:

The backstory: Last month, the council's Transportation Committee voted to bring a proposal forward to implement a policy change that allows the city to impound and immediately destroy abandoned or inoperable RVs worth less than $4,000. The change is inspired by new state law AB 630, which was created to prevent previously impounded RVs from ending back up on the street.

The motion, authored by Councilmember Traci Park, reports that abandoned RVs pose as public and safety hazards.

What's next: Councilmember Nithya Raman requested that an implementation plan be presented to the council's public safety and housing and homelessness committees.

Go deeper: L.A. pushes policy to make it easier to remove RVs from city streets.