Tucked away amid houses and a block away from coffee shops, yoga studios, and vintage stores of Highland Park, there's a little sanctuary dotted with native plants and soft light that filters through a canopy of leaves. It’s a tiny art park called La Tierra de la Culebra. We dive into the hidden history of this neighborhood gem.
Why it matters: There is an annual Dia de los Muertos celebration put on by the Chicana-owned Avenue 50 Studio gallery, recurring jazz performances put on by the record label Leaving Records and regular clothes swaps and art shows. But just below this idyllic surface, there is a battle between the past and present.
The backstory: La Tierra de la Culebra was founded in the early 1990s as a response to the uprising that was spurred by the beating of Rodney Kidney by L.A. police. Artist Tricia Ward received a grant by Los Angeles’s Department of Cultural Affairs to create a healing space. She wanted to create a park where she would not only showcase her sculptural work, but give the community a place to experience nature.
Read on... for more on how the park came to be and what it's future looks like.
Tucked away amid houses and a block away from coffee shops, yoga studios, and vintage stores of Highland Park, there's a little sanctuary dotted with native plants and soft light that filters through a canopy of leaves. It’s a tiny art park called La Tierra de la Culebra.
There is an annual Dia de los Muertos celebration put on by the Chicana-owned Avenue 50 Studio gallery, recurring jazz performances put on by the record label Leaving Records and regular clothes swaps and art shows. But just below this idyllic surface, there is a battle between the past and present.
Tierra de la Culebra park in Highland Park.
(
Samanta Helou Hernandez
/
LAist
)
How the heightened racial tensions of the 90s birthed a tiny park
La Tierra de la Culebra was founded in the early 1990s as a response to the uprising that was spurred by the beating of Rodney Kidney by L.A. police. Artist Tricia Ward received a grant by Los Angeles’s Department of Cultural Affairs to create a healing space. She wanted to create a park where she would not only showcase her sculptural work, but give the community a place to experience nature.
At the time, Highland Park was a mostly Latino neighborhood. And there was some initial skepticism of what Ward was doing in the park.
Aztec dancers at Tierra de la Culebra Park in the 1990s.
(
Courtesy Tricia Ward
)
Aztec dancers and drummers surround the oak tree at Tierra de la Culebra Park in the 1990s.
(
Courtesy Tricia Ward
)
“Who is this lady?” Erik Barazza, who lived down the street from the park and was a teenager at the time, remembers asking himself. “ I was always taught like, ‘Oh, white people don't like you. So what are you trying to do in this community?'”
But Barazza started changing his tune once he got involved in programming in the park, which included indigenous drumming and folkloric dance. He credits Ward with helping him establish his drumming career and says he’s played with acts like Carlos Santana and Los Caifanes.
Erik Barraza (far right) drums at Tierra de la Culebra Park in the 1990s.
(
Courtesy Tricia Ward
)
In 2000, Ward decided to sell the land the park occupied to the city of Los Angeles. Ward says she thought that if the city owned the park, it wouldn’t be developed into housing and could stay as a public good in perpetuity even after Ward was no longer around to care for it.
The city became the park’s official owner, but leased the land to Ward’s nonprofit, ArtsCorpsLA, so she would continue to maintain it.
Erik Barraza found indigneous drumming at Tierra de la Culebra in the 90s. Up until recently, he would still host Mexica drum and dance practice around the central oak tree of the park.
(
Samanta Helou Hernandez
/
LAist
)
Tierra de la Culebra park is full of texture and quirky plants.
(
Samanta Helou Hernandez
/
LAist
)
But in 2007, Ward lost control over the park. She dealt with a series of personal losses. Her husband, who handled a lot of the logistics, died. Then, her nonprofit, through which she hired people to operate the park, went bankrupt and closed.
After two decades of taking care of the park, Ward’s stewardship started to wither and the park entered a period of neglect.
Tricia Ward founded Tierra de la Culebra park in the 1990s as a way to provide a healing space in Highland Park, which at the time was a predominantly working class Latino neighborhood.
(
Samanta Helou Hernandez
/
LAist
)
New stewards enter La Tierra de La Culebra
In 2020, the world went into lockdown due to COVID. But once things started opening up again, Ward went to see how the park was doing — and realized that someone else had stepped in to program and maintain the park.
It turns out a ragtag group of neighbors had started to do basic maintenance tasks like take out trash, program events and tend to the plants. Most of these neighbors had moved in during the “gentrification wave” — a period that began in the aughts after the addition of a Metro line stop in Highland Park led to a revitalization plan that saw the influx of high-end coffee shops, bars and restaurants that popped up on the main drags of the neighborhood — Figueroa Street and York Avenue.
When Tierra de la Culebra went into a period of neglect, David Lasky, a local resident of Highland Park joined a group of neighbors in maintaing the park.
(
Samanta Helou Hernandez
/
LAist
)
When Ward saw the park and how it was being maintained, instead of feeling relief that it hadn't been abandoned, everywhere she looked, she saw something she felt was wrong. She didn’t like the landscaping; there were parts of the park she had designed that were dismantled, and she thought the programming wasn’t inclusive to the community for which she had initially built it.
Ward discovered there was a website called www.latierradelaculebra.com dedicated to the park and its programming that didn’t include the park’s history, run by a group that was calling themselves “La Culebra Action League.” She hired a trademark lawyer and sent them a cease and desist to stop using “la culebra” in their materials. Some legal threats were swapped, but ultimately, no actual legal action was taken.
Tricia Ward founded Tierra de la Culebra park in the 1990s as a way to provide a healing space in Highland Park, which at the time was a predominantly working class Latino neighborhood.
(
Samanta Helou Hernandez
/
LAist
)
Tierra de la Culebra park is full of texture and quirky plants.
(
Samanta Helou Hernandez
/
LAist
)
The park today
Today if you go to the park there’s a high likelihood you will see David Lasky, an enthusiastic neighbor who has taken it upon himself to be the park’s gardener. He will sometimes stay up until 3 a.m. pruning and planting. The La Culebra Action League already has a calendar of events through September 2025 up on its website, including a music show, a clothing swap and Day of the Dead celebration.
When Tierra de la Culebra went into a period of neglect, David Lasky, a local resident of Highland Park joined a group of neighbors in maintaing the park.
(
Samanta Helou Hernandez
/
LAist
)
The district La Culebra is in is overseen by Councilmember Eunisses Hernandez. Her office stated that the department that could most accurately characterize how the park’s stewardship is managed is the Department of Parks and Recreation, which did not respond to multiple requests for comment.
Tierra de la Culebra park in Highland Park.
(
Samanta Helou Hernandez
/
LAist
)
Ward is still committed to fighting against what she sees as the erasure of her work and the original intent of the park. Meanwhile, it seems the informal governance of the park will continue. The park, despite any disputes, continues to be a haven for local residents.
To listen to the episode, click here:
Listen
• 36:32
Listen
• 36:32
Highland Park: Land of the snake
Tucked away in Highland Park - a neighborhood that’s been dubbed “ground zero” for gentrification - sits a small park dotted with native plants and spiraling mosaic sculptures. La Tierra de la Culebra Park was established in the early 90s by guerilla artist Tricia Ward. In the decades since, the neighborhood has transformed massively and a battle has emerged between the founder and the new stewards of the park over who the park is for and how the park should be preserved.
