The Brief

There’s a frenzy of madness and tangled limbs on the basketball court until someone shoots for a goal. Then it’s all eyes on the ball as everyone holds their breath, watching its graceful airborne arc in anticipation.

But this time, the ball narrowly misses and bounces off the rim, sending a dozen queer ballers scurrying to the opposite end of the court to play offense and defense. The heat is picking up on the courts of Highland Park Recreation Center.

Here, a group of queer basketball players in Northeast L.A., aptly named WNBGAY, meet up twice a week for a pickup basketball game. WNBGAY isn’t the only queer recreational sports group in Los Angeles — there are at least a dozen more scattered throughout the region — ranging from a dozen to a hundred attendees a week. Spaces like WNBGAY have become safe gatherings for gay men, lesbians, trans, non-binary and queer people alike to meet up and play sports, make friends and find community.

Cass Spillman, who runs an event staffing agency, says WNBGAY started two years ago informally as a group chat on Instagram amongst friends who wanted to play ball, until the desire for a queer space for ballers grew into something official. Spillman started helping to organize set locations and times for regular meetups.

Now they have official WNBGAY merch they use to raise money for equipment they need, like basketballs and more.

The most exciting part has been seeing real WNBA players sport their attire while playing.

“[There’s] joy that comes across my face when I just see somebody wearing WNBGAY merch in the wild,” Spillman says. “Because even though I don't know that person, they're repping us [and] they're proud of what we're doing here.”

Dream Team Society

Queer recreational sports groups like WNBGAY and Dyke Soccer LA reflect the large sapphic fanbase that supports many of the women’s professional leagues like the Women’s National Basketball Association and the U.S. Women’s National Soccer Team.

But groups are carving out new spaces within other sports that aren’t typically friendly to queer and trans people.

Surfing, a sport often associated with a laidback counter-culture, can often be exclusionary to newcomers with unspoken rules around locals who claim certain beaches. When the World Surf League moved to include transgender people in competitions, famous surfers like Bethany Hamilton spoke up to boycott the WSL.

But Dream Team Society has been pushing to normalize queer bodies in the ocean. Freelance photographer and videographer Shelly Simon organizes monthly meetups for Dream Team Society. Back in March, they hosted an event at the beach for Trans Day of Visibility with over 100 attendees. More recently, Simon collaborated with San Diego Gay Surf to celebrate the end of Pride Month with a bonfire at Ocean Beach.

Members of San Diego Gay Surf and Dream Team society celebrate a bonfire with hamburgers and pets before heading out to the waves.

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For Sergio Morales, who founded San Diego Gay Surf a year and a half ago, the effort started with simply reposting photos to connect with other queer and gay surfers. But Morales quickly wanted to have in-person meetups at the beach.

“There isn't a space for us out there. There's no representation for the queer community in surfing and most of the sports,” says Morales. “So why not start a space where we can bring the local community together and just build that?”

Queer recreational groups aren’t just for those who identify as LGBTQ. Allies of the spaces are similarly drawn to the welcoming atmosphere of inclusivity that allows them to show up fully as themselves. Like Valeria Diaz, who doesn’t identify as queer but comes from a racially mixed background. In other spaces, it feels like her heritages clash, but as a member of San Diego Gay Surf, she’s found acceptance beyond the binaries of identity.

Valeria Diaz (right) and Noah Fox (left), members of San Diego Gay Surf, practice their headstands on the grass.

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“There's a lot of people who work within boxes. Like you have to be Caucasian or you have to be Hispanic,” Diaz says. “This group really just encompasses the idea of love for all, no matter if you're gay, straight … we're all humans, and I think that's why I keep coming back to this group, because our values align.”

Queer Run Club

New queer recreational sports groups like Queer Run Club formed last August out of the need for a connection from the isolation experienced during the pandemic. From Silver Lake to Long Beach to Culver City, Jessi Baron and DJ Ki have made it their mandate to rotate their weekly runs throughout Los Angeles to make their events accessible throughout the county.

Members of the Queer Run Club run at Los Angeles Historic State Park on a Monday evening in June.

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Baron and Ki have made it their goal to reach a diverse range of queer runners, not just geographically, but across identities. They say it's important to note that Queer Run Club was started by two queer people of color.

“That was like an intentional move on our part to let people know, like, this isn't just going to be a white-only space,” says Ki. They point out that there are few sapphic bars beyond the newly established Honey’s at Star Love and Ruby Fruit. “This isn't only going to be like a gay man's space. It's for everyone. I feel like the turnout is so diverse as well. Not just ethnic and racial but like age groups.”

WeHo Dodgeball

One neighborhood is home to some of the most active queer sports groups. The West Hollywood Recreation Center is home to multiple queer sports that utilize its facilities. West Hollywood Aquatics brings together local swimmers and water polo players who compete internationally.

But WeHo Dodgeball’s Tuesday and Thursday games at the recreational center bring the friendly competition to another level. At any time during their evening tournaments, four games are happening simultaneously, with referees managing the organized chaos as people hurtle balls to knock the opposing team out of play.

Competing teams rush to grab dodgeballs after the referee’s whistle signals the start of a new match.

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For some, the connections forged in the heat of the sport go beyond friendly competition. It’s helped people find queer friends, partners and even chosen families. MJ Rios works as a high school choir teacher in East L.A. and has been part of WeHo Dodgeball since its inception over a decade ago in 2010 by local organizer Jake Mason. They’ve been grateful for how the space not only destigmatizes queer athletes but also female-identifying athletes who are allies to the LGBTQ community like herself.

“The group of people here, I will tell you that even at my own wedding, most of my invites were dodgeball people,” Rios says. “They've been my family for over a decade.”

Chris Witherspoon only joined WeHo Dodgeball a few months ago, but he’s already been sucked into the sport’s social orbit. He works as an audio engineer and commits to making the sometimes two-hour round trip from the San Fernando Valley, where he lives, to West Hollywood on Tuesdays to play dodgeball. For Witherspoon, it’s difficult trying to make LGBTQ friends in his neighborhood, so as someone who isn’t from Los Angeles, WeHo Dodgeball has helped him find a group of friends where he feels seen and included in his queerness.

“Because the LGBT community is smaller, you see a lot of the same people and the same faces,” Witherspoon says of WeHo Dodgeball. “These leagues tend to be more social. So every time we play a game, afterward, we go out to the bars.”

It’s hard to dismiss the fact that the whole reason why these queer recreational sports teams exist is because of the exclusion of queer athletes from sports. Val Horton, a league manager with WeHo Dodgeball, wants to center joy in queer recreational sports in light of all the contemporary challenges that queer and transgender people face in sports and beyond.

“We're living in a world where queer rights are being challenged every single day. And to have a place where we can come and not really have to think about that [and just be] with our people feels even more important now,” says Horton.

Trans Boxing

At Trans Boxing, over half a dozen attendees practice their fight stances, pivoting in circles while sharing grass space with their feathery neighbors at MacArthur Park on a Saturday morning (and avoiding duck poop).

As people pair up for pad work, they’re learning lifesaving skills for defense in the real world. Cal Xu has been training in martial arts long before they came out as queer. But since coming out as non-binary, Xu is uniquely aware that every time they step out into the world, they face a threat as a visibly queer person; training has helped them feel safer in their body.

“It's hard to exist as a queer person and just not hear what's going on politically,” Xu shares. “Dressing the way that I want to dress, presenting the way I want to present has felt so much more safe. Because I know that if push comes to shove and I really need to, I can defend myself.”

Trans Boxing members practice hand movements and mock sparring at MacArthur Park on a Saturday morning.

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Miles Enriquez-Morales founded Trans Boxing during the pandemic when the New York City-based organization ran classes online.

After recovering from top surgery, Enriquez-Morales started the Los Angeles chapter to offer a sanctuary for transgender and gender non-conforming people who want to participate in sports like martial arts without the toxic machismo and homophobia that can be prevalent in institutional spaces. Learning at the park is only temporary until they can find a place to call home.

“I have options where I could move the gym into a space that's very queer but maybe it's not as boxing [focused] as I would want it to be. And then maybe I could move it to a place that's very boxing-oriented and it's not as LGBTQ-accepting as I would want it to be,” Enriquez-Morales says. “Feeling like those are my only two options is really disheartening because it feels like I have to compromise.”

For now, all the equipment they use is funded by Trans Boxing’s Patreon subscribership and paid out of Enriquez-Morales’s own pocket when there is further gear needed for classes.

LBians

But not all queer groups face the same constraints on physical space. Like the lesbian bike riding group, LBians, which meets monthly to ride throughout Long Beach’s LGBTQ neighborhood. Locals call the Broadway corridor and its rainbow crosswalks “the gayborhood,” with half a dozen gay bars within walking distance.

Every month, LBians meets at Hot Java Coffee on Broadway for some exercise, and a lot of socializing — the end of every ride usually ends with drinks and food at a local brewery or bar.

Vanessa Cisneros juggles organizing these meets alongside their full-time job as a fraud analyst and stacked courseload studying software engineering. It’s not easy, but Cisneros says seeing the joy on the faces of her peers makes it all more worth it.

LBians meet up at the Beach Garden Social House, a local queer bar on Broadway after their monthly bike ride.

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“I love after every single ride someone comes to me, hugs me and thanks me for creating this awesome space. There's people who made lifelong friends here,” Cisneros says.

“Seeing this community is just awesome … [you’re] making new friends with people you won’t meet anywhere else.”

Queer Racquet Society

Part of the inclusivity of queer sports is how organizers have prioritized athletes of all skill levels and sought to make queer recreational sports the genesis for genuine connections outside the bar.

Through Queer Racquet Society, Teline Guerra has shown up amongst her sapphic peers at Griffith Park Tennis Courts while reclaiming the sport she used to play in high school.

“No one's dating-focused. You're focusing on tennis. When you're working out, no one's dressed to impress here,” said Guerra. She also points out that relationships like these, built outside the queer clubs, create change for the LGBTQ community.

On the courts of Griffith Park Tennis, Queer Racquet Society play friendly rounds of doubles.

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“Community is not who you f**k … the community that gets laws passed, the community that protests, the community that stands up for others starts with this kind of thing.”

On water and land, queer people are reclaiming access to the physicality of their bodies in the sports they love and are learning. There are still moments of discomfort when a safe space is burst, like when members of the Queer Run Club notice a man catcalling them from the sidelines. But they're able to shrug off moments like this because they have safety in numbers. And perhaps a safe space in queer sports isn’t necessarily about where you are at, but who you are with.

It's spring break season in the U.S. — and travelers are facing long airport lines as security screeners work without pay while the Department of Homeland security is shut down.

Congressional Democrats have declined to fund the agency in an attempt to force reforms of federal immigration enforcement practices.

Wait times at major hubs in Houston and Atlanta reached two hours on Friday, while New Orleans's Louis Armstrong International Airport advised passengers to arrive at least three hours before their scheduled departures. In Philadelphia, airport officials closed three security checkpoints entirely this week because of short staffing.

On Saturday, President Trump threatened to send Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents to staff airport security lanes if Democrats don't "immediately" agree to fund DHS. A bipartisan group of senators has been negotiating with the White House over immigration enforcement and ending the shutdown.

"I will move our brilliant and patriotic ICE Agents to the Airports where they will do Security like no one has ever seen before, including the immediate arrest of all Illegal Immigrants who have come into our Country," Trump posted on Truth Social. In a follow-up post he said he told ICE to "GET READY" to deploy to airports on Monday.

Why are wait times so long?

Officials say wait times are unpredictable and can fluctuate sharply as airports struggle with Transportation Security Administration staffing shortages.

TSA staffers are considered essential workers, so about 50,000 have been working without pay due to the shutdown that started Feb. 14. Last week, they missed their first full paychecks. The Department of Homeland Security says more than 300 TSA officers have quit. More than half of TSA staff in Houston called out sick and nearly a third called out in Atlanta and New Orleans last week, DHS said.

The staffing shortage comes as travel has also been disrupted by severe weather, and as schools across the country close for spring break.

Some 2.8 million people were projected to travel on U.S. airlines each day in March and April, adding up to a record 171 million passengers, according to the industry group Airlines for America.

What do officials say?

Transportation officials are warning the situation could get worse if the shutdown isn't resolved. A second missed paycheck would put even more strain on TSA workers, Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy told CNN on Friday.

"If a deal isn't cut, you're going to see what's happening today look like child's play," Duffy said. "Is it still safe as you go through the airport? Yes, but it takes a lot longer because we have less agents working." He added that some smaller airports may be forced to temporarily close if more staff calls out.

In the U.K., Foreign Office officials are also warning travelers of "travel disruption" caused by "longer than usual queues at some U.S. airports," and recommended passengers check with their travel provider, airport, or airline for guidance.

On Saturday, billionaire Elon Musk weighed in with an offer to personally pay TSA staff.

"I would like to offer to pay the salaries of TSA personnel during this funding impasse that is negatively affecting the lives of so many Americans at airports throughout the country," Musk posted on X early Saturday morning.

U.S. law generally bars government employees from receiving outside compensation for their work.

Even with disruptions, travel demand is still high

On top of long security wait times and weather impacts, travel is being affected by the war in Iran, which is driving up global oil prices.

On Friday, United Airlines said it would cut some flights over the next six months after jet fuel prices doubled in recent weeks. Capacity cuts are likely to send airfares even higher, even as ticket prices are already rising, said Clint Henderson, a spokesperson for the travel website The Points Guy.

Still, he said, none of that seems to be deterring Americans from flying.

"The appetite for travel is insatiable," he said. "People seem willing to endure a lot of stuff to travel. And I don't see any signs of that decreasing."

How can travelers prepare?

Travel experts say it's not just long wait times that travelers should prepare for — it's the uncertainty.

"Every day this goes on, it's getting worse and worse and worse," Henderson said.

Here are some tips on how to prepare for upcoming air travel:

1. Know before you go

Many airport websites list estimated security wait times. That should be the first place you check to get a sense of how long lines might be, Henderson says. (TSA also estimates wait times on its website and app, but that's not being regularly updated because of the shutdown, he added.)

"Knowledge is power," Henderson said. "You should know what's going on at your local airport."

He noted there are 20 U.S. airports where security screening is done by private contractors, not the TSA — and they are not experiencing staffing shortages or long waits. Some are smaller regional airports, but the list also includes some larger hubs, including San Francisco International Airport and Kansas City International Airport.

"There's big, big, big metropolitan areas where it's not an issue at all," Henderson said.

2. Budget extra time

If you're someone who shows up at the airport when your flight starts boarding, think twice, says travel writer Chris Dong.

"I'm the type of traveler who usually arrives pretty last minute," Dong said, "but I think that that advice would not be sound for the current situation."

Even if wait times are listed as short, things can change on a dime. Dong recently flew out of John F. Kennedy Airport in New York and found the TSA PreCheck line unexpectedly closed.

"So then everyone that was funneled through the regular line, it was an extra like 20, 30 minutes," he said. "I was sweating it out because I usually arrive super last-minute. And those levels of uncertainty are just higher now with the shutdown."

3. Consider biometric screening

Henderson typically recommends signing up for TSA PreCheck or the Global Entry program to move through airport security more quickly — and to opt in to biometric screening. That has to be done in advance, and travelers also have to choose biometric screening in their airline apps.

"Make sure if that's an option that you're opted in for that, because that will save you so much agita," he said.

For those who haven't signed up in advance, there is a last-minute alternative: the private CLEAR program, which allows people to enroll at the airport. Henderson notes it's pricey — annual membership costs $209 — but that some credit card companies will refund that fee.

"For me to skip a three-hour line is probably worth the membership fee, especially if you know your credit card will pay you back for it," he said.

That said, expedited screening lanes are not always faster than regular screening, both Henderson and Dong warned. Always check what all the lanes look like when you arrive at the airport.

4. Make a plan B

If you miss a connection or your flight is canceled, be proactive about rebooking. "Have all the tools available to you in the toolbox in case things go wrong," Henderson advises.

That includes installing your airline's app on your smartphone and writing down their customer service number, so you aren't scrambling to find it.

"And then, you know, obviously have a plan B," Henderson said. "Know what other airlines fly the route that you want to take in case, you know, you missed your Delta flight and American is offering a flight you can take later that day."

He says while airlines don't generally like to rebook passengers on competitors' flights, it's worth asking. He also recommends having the information at hand to give to customer service agents, including flight number, airline and departure time.

And if an airline cancels your flight in the U.S., you're entitled to a refund, according to the Department of Transportation.
Copyright 2026 NPR

Updated March 21, 2026 at 17:36 PM ET

Robert Mueller, the former FBI director and special counsel who led the high-profile investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election and the possible obstruction of justice by President Trump, died on Friday at 81.

"With deep sadness, we are sharing the news that Bob passed away," his family said in a statement Saturday shared with NPR. No cause of death was given.

Mueller had been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease four years ago, his family told The New York Times in August.

Trump, who openly despised Mueller and his investigation, celebrated his death on Saturday.

"Good, I'm glad he's dead," the president posted on social media. "He can no longer hurt innocent people!"

WilmerHale, the law firm where Mueller served as a partner, remembered Mueller as a "friend" who was "an extraordinary leader and public servant and a person of the greatest integrity."

"His service to our country, including as a decorated officer in the Marine Corps, as FBI Director, and at the Department of Justice, was exemplary and inspiring," a spokesperson for WilmerHale told NPR in a statement. "We are deeply proud that he was our partner. Our thoughts are with Bob's family and loved ones during this time."

Former President Barack Obama on Saturday called Mueller "one of the finest directors in the history of the FBI, transforming the bureau after 9/11 and saving countless lives."

"But it was his relentless commitment to the rule of law and his unwavering belief in our bedrock values that made him one of the most respected public servants of our time," Obama wrote on social media. "Michelle and I send our condolences to Bob's family, and everyone who knew and admired him."

Path to public service

Born on Aug. 7, 1944 in New York City, Mueller was raised in Philadelphia and graduated from Princeton University in 1966. He received a master's degree in international relations from New York University.

Mueller, throughout his career, ran toward tough assignments. Following the lead of a classmate at Princeton, Mueller enrolled in the Marines and served in the Vietnam war. He earned the Bronze Star for rescuing a colleague. Mueller said he felt compelled to serve during that conflict, an idea he returned to throughout his life.

Law professor and former Justice Department lawyer Rory Little knew Mueller for many years.

"Bob is kind of a straight arrow, you know, wounded in Vietnam," Little said. "You keep wanting to hunt for where is the crack in that façade — 'Where is the real Bob Mueller?' — and after a while you begin to realize that's the real Bob Mueller. He is exactly who he appears to be. This kind of sour-faced, not a lot of humor, sort of all-business guy. That's him."

But with his closest friends, Mueller let down his guard. They teased him — saying Mueller would have made an excellent drill instructor on Parris Island, where Marine recruits are trained.

Instead, Mueller went to law school at the University of Virginia. He joined the Justice Department in 1976. There, he prosecuted crimes, big and small, for U.S. attorneys in San Francisco and Boston. He was a partner at Hale and Dorr, a Boston law firm now known as WilmerHale.

He later became a senior litigator prosecuting homicides at the U.S. attorney's office in Washington, D.C.

Head of the FBI

In 2001, President George W. Bush nominated him to serve as the director of the FBI. Mueller was sworn in a week before the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.

"I had been a prosecutor before, so I anticipated spending time on public corruption cases and narcotics cases and bank robberies, and the like. And Sept. 11th changed all of that," Mueller told NPR during an interview in 2013.

He shifted the bureau's attention to fighting terrorism. He staffed up the headquarters in Washington. He pushed those agents to try to predict crimes and to act before another tragedy hit.

"He directed and implemented what is arguably the most significant changes in the FBI's 105-year history," said his former FBI deputy, John Pistole.

Along the way, Mueller drew some criticism when his agents erred. During the investigation of the deadly anthrax attacks, the bureau focused on the wrong man as its lead suspect.

Mueller left the bureau in 2013.

Return to the national spotlight

After Trump fired FBI Director James Comey, Mueller in May 2017 was appointed by then Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein as special counsel to oversee the probe into Russian meddling in the 2016 election and possible connections to Trump associates.

Trump called the investigation "a witch hunt" and Republicans in Congress started to attack the investigators.

When then the investigation eventually concluded in March 2019 with the more than 400-page "Mueller report," the special counsel said the investigation did not establish that Trump's campaign or associates colluded with the Russian government to influence the 2016 election. The report did not take a position on whether Trump obstructed justice.

Mueller said the report spoke for itself. But Democrats wanted more and insisted he testify. A reluctant witness, Mueller once again fulfilled his duty. He was visibly older than at the time of his appointment and kept his testimony restrained.

He said Justice Department guidelines would not allow him to charge a sitting president with criminal wrongdoing. But he also refused to exonerate Trump.

"If we had had confidence that the president clearly did not commit a crime, we would have said so," Mueller later told Congress.

In the end, the team charged 37 people and entities, including former campaign chair Paul Manafort, national security adviser Michael Flynn and 25 Russians.

Trump went on to grant clemency to or back away from criminal cases against many of the people Mueller's investigators had charged.

Copyright 2026 NPR

At the Koreatown Senior and Community Center, people were used to seeing Keum-soon Lee arrive early. When she didn’t show up for the 11 a.m. group harmonica class at the center last Friday, people took notice. 

“She would always be there first,” said conductor Eun-young Kim. “If she couldn’t come, she would tell me ahead of time. This time, I didn’t receive any messages from her. I thought, something isn’t right.”

Kim tried calling and sending messages. She didn’t get a response.

Members of the center later learned that Lee, 73, was critically injured in a hit-and-run crash while biking home in Koreatown after attending early morning prayer at her church. She died in a hospital March 13 from her injuries, according to the Los Angeles Police Department.

“I was shocked,” said Jin-soon Baek, who has played with Lee for years. “We’ve been friends for a long time. We ate together, practiced together. She was like a sibling to me.

“She was so hardworking. Always the first one there to sign in for class. She’d walk ahead of me and I’d follow behind. That’s how it always was.”

Baek, who is in her 80s, said the two also shared something more personal: Both had cancer.

“I had cancer years ago, and she was going through treatment recently,” Baek said. “We understood each other.”

In January, Lee played with the harmonica ensemble at an LA Kings game. Lee spoke with a journalist about undergoing surgery and chemotherapy, and what the group meant to her. 

“I think I’ve almost fully recovered,” Lee told journalist Chase Karng at the hockey game. “Even while receiving chemotherapy, I felt encouraged when I heard that I could perform here.”

At the Koreatown Senior and Community Center, people were used to seeing Keum-soon Lee arrive early. When she didn’t show up for the 11 a.m. group harmonica class at the center last Friday, people took notice.

Lee was born in 1952 in South Korea and immigrated to the United States in 1998. She was an elder at Saehan Presbyterian Church in Pico Union and is survived by her husband, Sang-rae Lee, and son, Young-jo Lee.

The senior center, where Lee was a fixture and known as a reliable friend, has designated March 20 as a day of mourning.

On Friday, Lee’s church held a funeral service, where members of the harmonica ensemble performed the hymn, “Nearer My God to Thee,” in her memory.

“I usually don’t attend funeral services, but I had to come for hers,” said Alice Kim. “Whenever I came to church, I would see her watering the grass, bent over, and she would smile and say, ‘You’re here, Alice,’ and hand me the Sunday bulletin.”

In her eulogy, elder Gyu-sook Lee said the sudden loss has hit the congregation hard.

“She always greeted everyone with a warm smile,” she said. “She was the kind of person who always stepped forward first to do the hard work that no one else wanted to do. And when she took something on, she saw it through to the end.”

At the Koreatown Senior and Community Center, people were used to seeing Keum-soon Lee arrive early. When she didn’t show up for the 11 a.m. group harmonica class at the center last Friday, people took notice.

“She still had so many years ahead of her,” Baek said. “She was younger than us. Full of hope. It feels like it should have been me instead.”

According to police, Lee was riding through a crosswalk when a white Dodge Ram truck turning right struck her around 6:40 a.m. near Olympic Boulevard and Vermont Avenue. The driver briefly stopped, then drove away, authorities said.

Investigators found the truck and are looking into whether the driver was impaired on drugs or alcohol. The truck was seized and there was no information about the driver.

Kim, the conductor, said Lee was the first person to reach out to her when she started to lead the ensemble in September. 

“She sent me a message saying thank you for coming,” Kim said. “She was such a special person to me.” 

At Friday’s service, speaker after speaker described Lee as someone who was a light in every community she was part of. 

“The way she served the church behind the scenes became a lesson in faith for all of us. There isn’t a single part of this church that hasn’t felt her touch. Her warmth, her love, her dedication — I can still feel it,” Gyu-sook Lee said.

When Gilbert Lindsay became the first Black person elected to Los Angeles City Council in 1963, it gave the residents of the predominantly Black District 9 someone who understood the challenges they faced living in South Central. 

This area was the center of Black political power in LA because it was one of the few places in the city Black people were allowed to live and thrive due, in part, to housing restrictions. For the next 63 years, voters in this district — which includes historic South Central, Exposition Park and a small portion of downtown Los Angeles — consecutively chose a Black representative. 

That will end with Curren D. Price Jr., the current District 9 councilmember who can’t run again due to term limits. 

Twelve candidates announced campaigns in February to replace Price. Of them, six candidates have qualified to be on the June 2 primary election ballot, none of whom are Black. They include: Estuardo Mazariegos, Elmer Roldan, Jorge Hernandez Rosas, Jorge Nuño, Martha Sánchez and Jose Ugarte. 

The list is a reflection of the demographic shift of the area, but candidates also told The LA Local that it shows the strength of the district’s Black-Latino political coalition. And with the civil rights gains since the 1960s, while some locals are concerned that issues facing Black voters won’t get the attention they need, others who live in the district said they’re less concerned with what their representative looks like. Instead, they said they want someone who listens and gets things done. 

“As long as you do good in the community, we’re going to be happy,” said Dennis Anya, who works on Central Avenue and has lived in the district for nearly 40 years.

What the demographic shifts in District 9 mean for the June election

The upcoming election comes as the demographics have changed in District 9 and South LA. The Black population in South Los Angeles was 81% in 1965, according to a special census survey from November 1965 of South and East LA. 

As of 2021, District 9, specifically, is about 78% Latino and 13% Black, according to LA City Council population demographic data taken that year as part of a redistricting effort. 

Officials have predicted the district’s shift for years. Former City Councilmembers Kevin De León and Nury Martinez discussed the district’s future in the leaked 2021 audio — checkered with racist remarks — that the LA Times reported in 2022.“This will be [Price’s] last four years,” De Leon said at one point in the conversation, the transcript of which the LA Times published in full. “That eventually becomes a Latino seat.” 

Erin Aubry Kaplan, a writer and columnist who traces her family’s roots to South Central, told The LA Local that because District 9 has historically voted for a Black candidate, there is some anxiety amongst Black voters about losing Black representation in Los Angeles. 

“I would hope that whoever wins, will carry the interest of Black folk forward,” she said.

Manuel Pastor, a USC professor and co-author of “South Central Dreams: Finding Home and Community in South LA,” told The LA Local that traditionally, voters are older. While District 9 is now home to a younger, immigrant community, they may not vote at the same rate as older generations, and undocumented residents are ineligible to vote.  

Pastor said it’s likely for this reason that the current District 9 candidates are not emphasizing being Latino but are modeling their campaigns after other city leaders and focusing on Black-Latino solidarity. 

“Just because the demographics have changed, doesn’t mean that the voting population has changed,” Pastor said.  

Here’s what the candidates say about the transformation of District 9

Chris Martin, one of the two Black candidates who campaigned for the seat but did not qualify for the ballot, said he believes the city’s Black elected officials should have supported Black candidates in the race. Martin said he will challenge the city clerk’s decision on his nomination petition in court. 

“The story of Black political power in the city of Los Angeles is dying,” Martin said. “I felt like I had a good chance of keeping it alive.” 

When Gilbert Lindsay became the first Black person elected to Los Angeles City Council in 1963, it gave the residents of the predominantly Black District 9 someone who understood the challenges they faced living in South Central.

Michelle Washington, the other Black candidate who also did not qualify, did not respond to a request for comment.Price, the current District 9 councilmember, endorsed his deputy Jose Ugarte in the race and wrote in a statement that this election is about solidarity. 

“As a Black man who has served a majority-Latino district, I know that progress in South Central has always come from Black and Brown families moving forward together,” Price wrote. “We’ve had to fight harder for housing, safety, opportunity and the basic investments every neighborhood deserves. And when we’ve made gains, it’s because we stood united.”  

Five of the six candidates who qualified for the ballot told The LA Local that not having a Black candidate on the ballot doesn’t diminish the place of the district’s Black community. (Candidate Jorge Hernandez Rosas did not return requests for comment.) 

“It has always been a Black community and will always be a Black community. This isn’t about a passing of the baton or one community taking over another. It’s about building a solidarity movement,” Estuardo Mazariegos said. 

Elmer Roldan, who carries endorsements from LA Mayor Karen Bass and City Council President Marqueece Harris-Dawson, said the district needs a councilmember who won’t leave anyone behind.“We have to avoid at all costs contributing to Black erasure and Black displacement,” Roldan said.

Ugarte said that the major quality of life problems — like dirty streets and broken street lights — affecting the neighborhood’s Black and brown communities haven’t changed since he was a child living in the district. 

“The same issues are still here,” he said. 

Here’s what happens next

If you haven’t registered to vote and you want to receive a vote-by-mail ballot, you must register to vote by May 18.

Results from the primary election will be certified by July 2. If no candidate receives more than 50% of the vote, the top two candidates will move on to the general election on Nov. 3, according to the City Clerk’s website. 

The winner of District 9 will begin a four-year term Dec. 14.