The Brief

Los Angeles Times employees are going on a one-day strike Friday to protest looming layoffs that could cut the newsroom by at least 20%, or about 100 journalists.

The walkout is the publication's first union-organized work stoppage in its 142-year history.

What the paper has said

The L.A. Times is facing a widening budget deficit and, according to the paper, its billionaire owner Patrick Soon-Shiong is looking to make cuts while still holding onto the diverse staff members who’ve joined the newsroom over the past few years.

The proposed layoffs would be the largest cuts to staff since the L.A. Times was owned by the Tribune Company from 2000 to 2018, according to the paper.

It would also be the third round of layoffs since June, when more than 70 employees, or about 13% of the newsroom, were cut.

The walkout comes as the newsroom is grappling with executive editor Kevin Merida’s surprise step-down early last week after less than three years on the job.

According to the L.A. Times, Merida resigned over conflicts with Soon-Shiong, specifically about how the magnitude of the proposed layoffs would damage the paper’s progress to become a “sustainable enterprise.”

L.A. Times Guild members gathered at Gloria Molina Grand Park on Friday, Jan. 19.

(

Brian Feinzimer

/

LAist

)

What the union has said

The L.A. Times Guild said on social media that management has asked the union to “gut” seniority protections in their contract so they could have “vastly more freedom to pick whom to lay off.”

In a statement to the L.A. Times, the guild’s Black Caucus co-chairs, Erin B. Logan and Erika D. Smith, described the move as management trying to pit colleagues against each other. The guild said in a separate statement it rejects all seniority carve outs.

To protest the proposed layoffs, staff are holding a “Save Local Journalism” rally on Friday in downtown.

On a tranquil morning in January, Victor Correa had a vision for the day: Breakfast burritos from La Azteca Tortillería, and, later, a wedding he’d attend with his wife and their 2-year-old daughter.

The sky was bright blue when he set out for breakfast from his home in the city of Downey.

But Correa didn’t get far — just down the block, he witnessed a scene that’s played out more and more across the country this past year: masked men hopping out of unmarked cars to haul away Latino workers.

Correa grabbed his phone and started recording from his car. In videos he shared with LAist, men with dark sunglasses — one with a Border Patrol uniform and one in plainclothes — questioned two gardeners while other masked men stood watch from black SUVs nearby.

One of the men pointed what appeared to be a pepper gun at Correa and commanded him to move his car.

Just three days before, Correa knew, an ICE agent in Minneapolis shot and killed Renee Good, a legal observer and mother of three, in her car.

“Don’t fuckin’ shoot me!” he shouted at the federal agent. “I’m not fuckin’ doin’ nothin’!”

Correa honked and hurried to park. “ICE! ICE is here!” he yelled. By the time he made it back to the scene, one of the gardeners had already been taken inside a black Chevy Tahoe.

With urgency in his voice, Correa asked the remaining worker for his name in Spanish.

“José Solorio,” the man managed to say as an agent grappled him.

Soon, other neighbors emerged. They too began to record. One called out for a number to contact Solorio’s family: “¡Número de teléfono, jefe! ¡Número de teléfono!”

A woman in a floral bathrobe walked up and began scolding the agents. Amid the fray, the gardener inside the SUV appeared to let himself out. Then, the agents drove off.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Correa shouted after them.

Footage from one of the videos captured by Victor Correa on Jan. 10, 2026.

(

Courtesy

/

Victor Correa

)

Correa had been watching videos of immigration raids on social media for months, with a combined sense of fury and heartbreak. He’d also read up on how to be an effective bystander and what his rights are when filming federal agents in public spaces.

“I told myself that if I ever saw something like that, that I would be ready,” he told LAist. “And so, when my moment came, I was ready. And I let out all my rage.”

“I apologize to all the abuelas out there for all the cursing,” he said.

'What I hope everybody would do'

After the agents left, Correa said, he, the gardeners and neighbors unwound. According to Correa, the man who exited the SUV after being detained talked about trying to show proof that he’s in the U.S. legally to one of the agents, “but they wouldn’t listen."

The man also tried to show it to Correa, who shook his head and waved him away, he said.

“You don't have to show me anything," Correa recalled saying.

He said he "just did what I hope everybody would do."

Born and raised in Downey, Victor Correa created a community watch program after witnessing an attempted immigration raid on his block.

(

Carlin Stiehl

/

LAist

)

The experience left Correa wanting to do more to protect his community from further raids. He teamed up with City Councilman Mario Trujillo to found Downey ICE Watch. For their first meeting in January, they invited Unión del Barrio, an organization with decades of experience in community patrol, to teach attendees how to spot immigration agents. The group also distributed whistles, a tool that’s become symbolic of community resistance to federal immigration agents. That Tuesday night, Correa said proudly, over 100 people showed up.

Keeping bystanders safe — or as safe as possible — was and continues to be top of mind, he added. Days before Downey ICE Watch’s first meeting, federal agents shot and killed another bystander, Alex Pretti, in Minneapolis.

Looking back on his encounter with federal agents, Correa said that, in hindsight, he would strive to be “a little less aggressive.”

“I would still go out there and record and blow whistles,” he added, “but I would not [get] as close, because I have a family, I have a daughter. And these guys seem to be getting away with murder.”

Meeting neighbors, forming community

In February, Correa held a second meeting for his group at Downey Christian Memorial Church. Last summer, when the Trump administration began its militarized deportation effort in Southern California, armed agents detained a man in the church’s parking lot. When faith leaders asked the agents to identify themselves, they said one of the officers pointed a gun at its senior pastor, Rev. Tanya Lopez.

As local residents entered the church’s multipurpose room for the Downey ICE Watch meeting, Correa and other organizers had them sit with people who live in their part of the city. Correa said this would help locals mingle with their neighbors, creating a sense of camaraderie that’s essential to community patrol work.

About 50 people attended. The multi-ethnic audience listened closely as Rev. Lopez encouraged them to join her interfaith immigration court observer program. Immigration attorneys talked about cases they’re working on, about the families they’re fighting to keep from being separated.

Local attorney Alfonso Morales thought it important to talk about cases where he’s been successful, including the release of two men who were detained during a warrantless raid at a car wash in San Dimas.

He also offered guidance for bystanders who film federal agents in public spaces.

“Don't interfere,” he told them. “You're there to record and document.”

Morales encouraged them to describe what they witness: “Narrate. Talk about the place, the time, how many officers, how many vehicles, the license plate — all of that is public information.”

“Make sure people know where you are,” he added. “And keep a full copy of the video.”

Morales acknowledged that this type of work can take a toll on one’s mental health.

“I now have a therapist,” he shared. “Seeing people taken on a daily basis, when you know the law, and you know the law should be on your side—it’s painful.”

Still, federal immigration agents “need to know people are watching,” Morales said. “And that history will not forget.”

Correa wrapped up the February meeting with a presentation from other community groups, BarrioPower and Siempre Unidos LA.

Rosa Vazquez, who co-founded BarrioPower last summer, stressed that, if local residents do not feel comfortable participating in community patrols, they can still help their neighbors. Community members, for instance, can deliver groceries to those who are too scared to leave their homes, or volunteer to drive their neighbors’ children to school.

“When the world feels like it's crumbling around us every single day,” she said, “the only way to overcome the despair that is natural for us to feel is to take action.”

One week after the FBI searched the home and office of Superintendent Alberto Carvalho, leader of the Los Angeles Unified School District, there are few public details about the justification for the searches and the underlying investigation.

The reason for the searches is still unknown. A Department of Justice spokesperson said the agency has a court-authorized warrant but declined to provide additional details. The FBI told our media partner CBS LA that the underlying affidavit remained under court-ordered seal.

“Stay tuned,” said Laurie Levenson, a professor at Loyola Law School. “This is just the beginning on a case like this. [The searches are] a major development, but the fact that they still have this under seal seems to suggest it's ongoing.”

Neighbors told LAist that agents in unmarked cars arrived at Carvalho’s San Pedro home early on the morning of Feb. 25. Agents searched the district’s headquarters, as well as a home in South Florida, which the FBI said was connected to the investigation.

LAist talked to Levenson, a former federal prosecutor, as well as Kenneth Gray, a retired FBI special agent and University of New Haven criminal justice professor, to understand why the search warrant and the affidavit have been shielded from public view. Gray and Levenson spoke based on their experience in the field, not on any insider knowledge of the investigation involving Carvalho.

 What’s in the affidavit?

An affidavit is a sworn document that lays out details of a case — and the underlying reason why law enforcement believes in the need for a search warrant.

 ”You build a case in your affidavit, that you have reason to believe you have probable cause that a crime has been committed and that there is evidence to be found at a specific location,” Gray said. It usually contains information that federal agents have learned themselves or information that others have told them, he said.

Gray and Levenson told LAist it’s “not uncommon” for a judge to agree to restrict the public’s view of an affidavit while an investigation is ongoing. “They could be concerned about people fleeing or covering up evidence or other efforts to obstruct the investigation,” Levenson said.

It could also mean prosecutors are working with witnesses or informants they don’t want to compromise — or on an issue of national security.

“ I would not read into the fact that it is sealed that it means a specific thing because there are many different reasons why,” Gray said.

What’s in a search warrant?

A search warrant typically includes:

• The address and descriptors of the place to be searched 
• A list of items to seize. This may be specific or general, i.e. books, documents, calendars
• The alleged crime

For an example of what a search warrant looks like, see the 2022 search warrant for President Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago home. The Justice Department asked the judge to release the warrant after Trump claimed there was no legitimate legal basis for the search.

When will more information become public?

It’s hard to know.

Levenson said if the investigation is concluded and there are formal charges in the case, it’s likely the affidavits will become unsealed. But it’s also possible it will remain hidden from public view if the investigation is ongoing. “There can be so many offshoots of the case,” she said.

And when do charges usually happen after a search? Levenson said it could be weeks.

“It’s really impossible to guess because we don’t know how widespread this investigation is,” she said. It’s possible charges are never filed.

It’s also possible the search warrant may become public before the affidavit, the latter of which contains more information about the case the prosecutors are trying to build.

“Depending on the type of case, the search warrant usually is something revealed early on,” Gray said. “But the affidavit itself is not [revealed] until it goes to court.”

Gray said the target of the search typically is left with a copy of the warrant and a receipt of the property taken. The receipt also is filed with the court and the evidence stored in an FBI locker, Gray said.

Will there be criminal charges?

The Department of Justice has not publicly charged Carvalho with wrongdoing. Carvalho has made no public statement since the searches.

“Not every case ends up being provable,” Gray said. He acknowledged the media’s right to report on searches but said there can be consequences.

“Sometimes the end result is that people's reputations are damaged when information like this is revealed that has not been proven,” Gray said.

 Who are all these unnamed sources?

Several media outlets have published information not provided publicly, such as the existence of grand jury subpoenas for people connected to the Florida school district Carvalho once led.

LAist contacted Miami-Dade County Public Schools for comment. The district referred our request to the media relations department and its lawyers but has not yet provided any information.

Typically, a newsroom or media outlet has best practices for gathering the information found in stories.

Journalists who focus on a specific topic or geography may develop professional relationships with people or sources who are willing to share information that is not otherwise public.

At LAist, we seek information from people who know the facts “first-hand” — there’s no one between the information we’re seeking and the source.

We use unnamed or anonymous sources as a primary source of information as a last resort because we believe readers and listeners should know where the information in our stories comes from. However, there are some cases where we use confidential sources. For example, when they are the only ones who can provide understanding central to the story.

“Under no circumstances do we allow personal attacks by someone unnamed in our reporting,” read LAist’s standards of practice. “In most circumstances, information from unnamed sources needs to be corroborated by a second credible person, document, tape, or video that is independent of the original source.”

Before he was released from prison, artist Fulton Leroy Washington (a.k.a. Mr. Wash) made a promise to his fellow inmates.

“I explained to the guys with tears in their eyes, and not just in their eyes, but running down their cheeks, that they were going to return home. And [...] I was leaving to go and prepare a place for them,” he said.

Mr. Wash was convicted of a non-violent drug offense he maintains he didn’t commit and was sentenced to life in prison because of mandatory minimums. He served more than 20 years in federal prison before he was granted clemency and had his sentence commuted by President Barack Obama in 2016.

'Art is like therapy'

While he was incarcerated, Mr. Wash began to draw and paint, and then taught art to others at three different prisons in Kansas, Colorado and finally Lompoc, California, for 18 years.

“I changed the lives of a lot of prisoners.  Each prison I went to, the warden would ask me to do what you did there, here,” he said. “I would continue to teach and share, give guidance and mentorship, and sometimes therapy. ‘Cause art is like therapy. I could use it as a way to reach and find out some of the [...] deepest things going on with them.”

Mr. Wash first began drawing after his lawyer asked him to sketch a person from memory — a witness who she hoped to track down to help with his defense. While it didn’t prevent his conviction, it did help his attorney locate the person, and after that, he said, “I promised God at that time that I would continue to practice [art] and to share it.”

He gained media attention for his portraits and other paintings he made while incarcerated, and in 2014 completed a work depicting Obama granting him clemency.

"Emancipation Proclamation," 2014.

(

Courtesy of Mr. Wash

)

“Whether directly or indirectly,” Mr. Wash wrote in his new book Artists in Space, “I also believe that art played a part in President Obama commuting my sentence and bringing me home in 2016.”

Mr. Wash’s paintings have since been featured in the Hammer Museum, LACMA, The Huntington Library and at a solo show at the Jeffrey Deitch Gallery.

Now he’s released Artists in Space to help fund the creation of a community center — including space for art classes and housing for formerly incarcerated people — at the site of his art studio on Rosecrans Avenue in Compton.

‘Artists in Space’

Artists in Space features interviews with 20 Los Angeles artists, photographed in the usually private spaces where they work.

Some of these artists helped to fund Mr. Wash’s legal defense and many offered their own spaces for him to work in after he was released from prison.

Patrisse Cullors, the artist and co-founder of Black Lives Matter, offered Mr. Wash space to work on a larger scale painting at her Crenshaw Dairy Mart, which in turn helped inspire Mr. Wash’s vision for the Art By Wash Studio & Community Center.

A portion of "Artists in Space," which features 20 L.A. artists, including Patrisse Cullors, in conversation with Mr. Wash.

(

Joppe Jacob Rog

)

Artists Kenneth Gatewood and Charles Bibbs, who Mr. Wash counts as mentors and who are also featured in the book, helped contribute to his legal defense fund for years.

“And I had never met them,” Mr. Wash said. “They were selling their work and giving 25% of their work to pay the legal fees to try to get me out.”

Making the vision a reality

The Compton location where Mr. Wash works today has already been transformed significantly — from a dilapidated, overgrown lot to one that now includes his studio, office, and a large outdoor area (made over with donated paint and astroturf) with walls that artists and community members are invited to make their mark on.

Mr. Wash’s vision for the space is for it to be a “two-way bridge” that provides young people with a creative outlet to set their futures on a positive trajectory, and as a place for formerly incarcerated people to live and create art.

A rendering of the Art By Wash Studio & Community Center.

(

The NOW Institute

)

His hope is that the main building will be completed before the 2028 Olympics in Los Angeles, but still needs to raise several million dollars to make that a reality.

He’s currently raising money to fund the construction through sales of Artists in Space, donations to the nonprofit Help Us Help Wash, and by selling his own paintings, which he continues to create in his Compton studio, most often working in silence.

“I just pray,” Mr. Wash said. “If you listen to music or TV or radio, to me, while you’re working, part of your energy and spirit is being [put] into that [...] It's captured you. And so I, a lot of times, choose not to be captured again. So I just stay within me and within God and just keep going forward.”

How to attend

An Artists in Space BBQ and launch party, with Mr. Wash and Patrisse Cullors in conversation with Evan Pricco of The Unibrow, is from 2 to 6 p.m. March 7 at the Art By Wash Studio & Community Center, 915 W. Rosecrans Ave., Compton. RSVP here.

Shifting control of L.A. city homelessness spending away from the agency long entrusted with it to a department in city government could take a year and a half, city officials said Wednesday.

Bringing that spending in house was one of several options discussed by city councilmembers during a meeting of their housing and homelessness committee. Another option they’re considering is having the money be managed by the county, which started setting up a homelessness department about a year ago.

The city directs roughly $300 million per year to the L.A. Homeless Services Authority. L.A. County supervisors voted last April to withdraw funding for the agency, citing ongoing problems with the agency's oversight of homelessness funds. Now 10 months later, city officials are debating what to do with the troubled agency.

Just after Wednesday’s discussion ended, L.A. Mayor Karen Bass’ office released a statement urging the council not to withdraw funding from LAHSA without a plan in place.

“Withdrawing from LAHSA too quickly, without a plan and without the capacity, will no doubt cause unintended consequences that will leave more Angelenos to die on our streets,” Bass said in her statement. “What we need is a serious, thoughtful transition plan — the last thing we need is a new department and more bureaucracy.”

What’s on the table?

A staff report presented to the homelessness committee last April included several paths forward. Those options are:

• not changing anything major
• keeping the city money at LAHSA but beefing up city oversight
• shifting the funding from LAHSA to direct city control
• shifting the city’s funding from LAHSA to the county homelessness department to administer it

Councilmember Bob Blumenfield, who sits on the council’s housing and homelessness committee, said he’d be open to having the county handle the city’s homelessness spending if the county doesn’t charge the city for overhead costs.

 ”If they're doing that, then I might be willing to say, 'OK, let's give them some of our money.' … That's going help our programs and give us a more efficient route,” Blumenfield said. “We also need to get down to brass tacks and understand what it means financially.”

Currently, about 3.6% of the city’s spending through LAHSA goes to administration costs, according to LAHSA’s budget. That rate is 8% for the county’s funds at LAHSA, which will be pulled from the agency July 1 and shifted to the new county department.

Councilmember Tim McOsker said he was leaning toward working with the county on a limited number of programs, like interim housing.

City officials said they currently lack staff dedicated to advising them on homelessness policy and setting up the infrastructure to potentially take on direct oversight of the spending.

“There are no dedicated policy staff on homelessness in the city [government],” said John Wickham, a legislative analyst official at the city who presented the staff report of options to the committee Wednesday.

Additional accountability

The statement from Bass’ office encouraged the city council to develop a “thoughtful transition plan” before shifting funds away from LAHSA.

The statement touted a new Homelessness Bureau the city created for the budget that started last July to focus on “oversight, accountability and results” to the city’s homelessness spending.

But city officials noted at Wednesday’s committee meeting that no one has been hired yet at the bureau, nine months after the council approved its funding.

“We have not hired a single person for the bureau yet,” said committee chair Nithya Raman, who championed the bureau a year ago. “We need more capacity to be able to manage this work at the city and to make sure that every dollar is working well. We just do. We're not staffed to be able to handle that right now.”

Limited time for discussion

Wednesday’s discussion didn’t start until just before 4 p.m., following two hours of discourse on other items at the meeting and lasted about 45 minutes.

“It's getting very late,” Raman said around 3:45 p.m., before the committee began talking about the possible funding shift from LAHSA.

It’s been two years since Councilmember Monica Rodriguez introduced the item that was up for discussion Wednesday, with the staff report of options delivered almost a year ago. She told councilmembers Wednesday that they’ve been wasting precious time and need to be decisive.

 ”In the 316 days since this report was issued, we are finally here engaging in this conversation,” Rodriguez said. She recently criticized Raman, the committee’s chair, for not scheduling the discussion sooner.

“ No longer can we afford indecision in making decisive actions around how we change this system. We must act. We must act now,” she said.  ”We still have a broken and dysfunctional system without a singular entity directing our work around homelessness.”

Raman has said she plans to hold one more discussion — expected to be March 18 — before the committee decides next steps. From there, it will be up to the full city council to decide. The committee’s recommendations are influential, as the panel’s five members are one-third of the full council and most of what it would take to form a deciding majority on the council.

No written agreement

Officials also noted Wednesday that under their current approach, there’s no written agreement laying out what LAHSA and the city’s responsibilities are. They said one is in the works.

“What I've seen in my short period is that … if we didn't ink it, nobody could think it and then they get away with not doing the work,” said Councilmember Heather Hutt. “I think we need to be more intentional about identifying roles.”

LAHSA is in ‘crisis,’ CEO says

LAHSA was created by the city and county in 1993 to oversee homeless services. It’s governed by a CEO who reports to a commission of 10 members. Half of the members are appointed by the mayor and the other half by each of the five county supervisors. Bass also serves on the commission, having appointed herself in fall 2023.

While it’s long-faced criticism, it’s been under particularly close scrutiny for more than a year.

An audit and court-ordered review found it failed to properly track its spending and whether services were being provided.

LAHSA also has been facing criticism more recently for months-long delays in paying tens of millions of dollars to reimburse service providers — a problem officials vowed to fix nearly two years ago. Several providers recently told LAist they've had had to dip into reserves or take on debt.

While addressing the commission that oversees the organization last Friday, CEO Gita O’Neill said LAHSA was “in crisis. And I say this not as a criticism to any of our really hardworking staff. They've built what they were asked to build.”

O'Neill added of LAHSA staff that “morale is very low.”