The Brief

Every Friday night, the Islamic Society of Orange County mosque in Garden Grove becomes a gathering place. Children in the Muslim Youth Group meet to learn about their Islamic faith, then play and socialize on the mosque grounds. The adults unwind and catch up after a long week, seated under fairy lights around long tables.

Until not long ago, the atmosphere here was typically lighthearted and relaxed. But the mood has changed since the Oct. 7 Hamas attack in Israel that claimed 1,200 lives, and Israel’s subsequent air strikes on Gaza, where as many as 19,000 people have since died.

Now these gatherings serve a bigger purpose: a supportive space for families to grieve and share very difficult feelings, as they cope with the images of destruction and loss.

Children play during recess Orange Crescent School located on the grounds of the Garden Grove mosque.

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The Islamic Society of Orange County serves thousands of Muslims with prayer, educational, and counseling services, including a youth group.

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Families visit the mosque from as far away as Redondo Beach and Pasadena, seeking community and respite. Parents talked while the children made posters using black, white, red and green paint, the colors of the Palestinian flag.

In one room crowded with kids, Tala Haddad held up a megaphone, belting out instructions for how to make bracelets. Haddad, 19, is a youth group coordinator with the mosque; each Friday she leads a group of kids ages 4 to 12. These days, she said, the goal is to give them a safe space to process feelings that may arise from watching the news, or from absorbing parents’ emotions at home.

“A really important thing is having those conversations so that they're not just hearing things and having it stick with them,” Haddad said. “So … we have been allowing the kids to speak their mind within reason, and we're giving them an outlet to talk to their youth group mentors, to talk to their parents. The parents are able to talk to us as well to ask for advice.”

Two teens attend Friday midday prayer at the Islamic Society of Orange County mosque in Garden Grove.

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Parents have been struggling, too. Among the dads volunteering that night was Ramsey Nashef, a Palestinian American born and raised in Orange County. He said as the father of two girls, 9 and 2, images he’s seen of dead and wounded children in Gaza have been haunting him.

“I have never been this vulnerable before, like, being emotional and crying, this is something that's not normal to me,” Nashef said. “I just see myself breaking down and I'm like, my mental health is just kind of messed up at the moment.”

Ramsey Nashef, a Palestinian American father and graphic artist from Orange County, pictured with one of his paintings of a Palestinian boy throwing a stone.

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Nashef said he’s felt a duty to check for news, as much as it hurts.

“For me, as a Palestinian, I felt the need and out of respect to have to watch it,” he said.

Every morning, he said, it has felt “almost like I was torturing myself” as he logs in to watch videos of the devastation on Instagram.

A unique trauma

Seeing the images coming out of Gaza is “retraumatizing” for Arab American and Muslim communities, said Marwa Azab, a psychology professor at California State University Long Beach.

“It’s kindling and bringing back a lot of baggage that (was) hidden for a long time, we thought we dealt with,” Azab said.

A little boy looks down at the men during Friday prayer at the Islamic Society of Orange County mosque.

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Friday prayer at the Islamic Society of Orange County in Garden Grove.

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Some who came as refugees carry trauma from wars and violence in their home countries like Syria, Afghanistan, and Iraq. For others, Azab said it’s experiencing anti-Muslim hate during 9/11 and other incidents that have added to the collective trauma of living as Muslims and Arab Americans in the U.S.

Hundreds of people attend Friday midday prayer at the Islamic Society of Orange County mosque.

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Now, with the pictures and videos coming out of Gaza, and in some cases personal loss, unresolved trauma has left the community “bleeding” emotionally, Azab said, “and there's no healing that's going to start if the bleeding doesn’t stop.”

‘Psychological resilience’

Azab has been giving talks at local mosques and around the community on what she calls “psychological resilience.” She tries to help people understand the trauma they are holding onto, and offers tips for coping with the distressing news.

An important one is limiting one’s time checking the news or looking at social media.

“They have to have a budget in terms of looking at these videos, because they will very quickly run into compassion fatigue,” Azab said. “Where the people they love and they desperately need to connect with, they won't be able to.”

Marwa Azab, a psychology professor at California State University Long Beach.

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Psychology and mental health books in Marwa Azab's home office.

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Being able to remain emotionally present for one’s family is key, she said. Timing news consumption is important, too, she said, because disturbing news can keep one up at night.

For intrusive thoughts during the day that interfere with work or school, Azab recommends writing those on a sticky note — and coming back to them later.

Azab also says people right now feel like they can’t express their grief, for fear of being misjudged — so community is important.

Stress on kids and parents

During recess one recent afternoon at the Orange Crescent School, on the grounds of the Garden Grove mosque, the sounds of laughter and children playing tag filled the air. Some kids kicked around a soccer ball, others played basketball. The tall steel fence around the campus was covered with posters expressing support for Palestinians in Gaza.

Children play during recess at Orange Crescent School located on the grounds of the Garden Grove mosque.

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School principal Maisa Youssef said that in the weeks following the Hamas attack, and Israel’s subsequent declaration of war, she began seeing a shift in the school community. The murder of 6-year-old Palestinian American boy Wadea Al-Fayoume in Chicago, which authorities are investigating as a hate crime, left students and parents feeling “definitely scared,” she said, “wondering if they are able to go to the store.” All of this has put undue stress on the kids.

“We've actually seen a decline” in children’s behavior, Youssef said. “I think kids are just in another space realizing they're still processing.”

Maisa Youssef, principal of Orange Crescent School. It's located on the grounds of the Islamic Society of Orange County mosque in Garden Grove.

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A mural outside of a classroom at the Orange Crescent School located on the grounds of the Garden Grove mosque.

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As for the parents, Youssef said, sometimes they “don't want to talk, separating themselves from kids, being extra snappy, just kind of wanting to be alone.”

The school has shifted gears to incorporate mental health programming alongside lessons. The school recently hosted Azab to speak with parents, and has brought in mental health experts to speak with children and teachers as well.

Giving children ways to cope

Tala Haddad, the youth group leader at the Garden Grove mosque, is Palestinian American. Her parents came to the U.S. as refugees and settled in Orange County, where she was born and raised.

Between coaching the kids at the recent Friday night gathering, Haddad talked about how she feels a sense of survivors’ guilt when she thinks about how people in Gaza are living now. The vast majority of the population has been displaced amid the continuing airstrikes, and there is a lack of access to clean water. Recent flooding has made things worse.

“Anytime I do anything I feel so immensely guilty whether it's little things like driving and knowing I'm gonna get to my destination safe,” she said. “Or putting my food in the microwave and knowing I'm having a warm meal.”

Children's backpacks hang outside of a classroom at the Orange Crescent School, located on the grounds of the Garden Grove mosque.

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As a child, her family tuned in to in-language television news reports of violence in the Middle East. On TV Haddad would see “gruesome pictures of kids that were just like me” who had been killed. Then, on her drive to school, she said she would hear on the radio “these people deserve it, these people are terrorists, these people — they don't want peace, they want chaos.”

This trauma followed her through childhood, she said. All through school, she would tell classmates she was Jordanian “because I felt like if I opened the door to being Palestinian, it would open so much resentment for myself and my family.”

“It definitely felt like a really, really heavy burden to carry,” Haddad said. “And I think that I carried that with me my entire youth.”

Now, as a youth coordinator, she wants to help children have an outlet for their emotions and a safe space to ask their questions.

These children, she said, should not have to carry a burden, “it's not like they’re to blame for anything.”

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.

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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.