One Year After The Monterey Park Shooting, A Ballroom Dance Scene Rebounds

"1-2-3-4! Relax your hips!”

At the Lai Lai Ballroom & Studio in Alhambra, a dozen dancers follow in lockstep with instructor Chris Cho as he introduces flowing bachata moves.

"1-2-3-4! Relax your knees!"

Lai Lai is one of the most popular stops on an L.A.-area dance circuit for a community of older Asian ballroom enthusiasts. Flitting across the ballroom's wooden dance floor, bathed in dramatic lighting, they mingle with other retirees with the time to waltz and salsa, many of them originally from Taiwan, China, Thailand and Vietnam.

Instructor Chris Cho teaches bachata moves at the Lai Lai Ballroom & Studio.

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Josie Huang

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But after the tragedy of last year, the studio almost went dark.

On Jan. 21, a gunman attacked Star Ballroom Dance Studio, a sister dance hall in Monterey Park frequented by the same crowd.

Huu Can Tran, 72, fired on a crowd of dozens celebrating the Lunar New Year. He then drove a few miles to Lai Lai, where there were several people left in the ballroom. Brandon Tsay, whose family owns Lai Lai, was in the ticket office when he saw the shooter enter the lobby with a gun.

Since last year's shooting in Monterey Park, Brandon Tsay has strived to make Lai Lai, his family's dance hall, a place of healing.

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“Within the first three seconds, I processed that I must do something to save everybody's lives,” Tsay said.

Tsay wrestled the gun away from the shooter, who took off. Tran was found dead the next day of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. He’d been part of the local ballroom dance scene, but police still have not specified a motive.

Lai Lai draws a crowd of regulars from across L.A., particularly the San Gabriel Valley.

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Eleven people were killed, nine injured, all in their 50s, 60s and 70s. Tsay was anointed a hero for averting further tragedy by the likes of President Joe Biden. But privately he struggled with what to do about Lai Lai, which the family almost shuttered during the pandemic.

The local dance community was so traumatized that Tsay didn’t think they’d come back, and the dance hall would have to close. Some instructors have left, taking students with them. But Tsay says most people have returned.

“I was so glad that they came back with a big smile on their faces just getting connected to one another, again, at a physical location and recounting the situation, it was quite therapeutic for everybody,” Tsay said.

Lai Lai's ballroom draws dancers from across L.A. County.

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Meanwhile, the Star Dance Ballroom Studio — where the shooting took place — closed permanently.

WeChat and meals

As the community held vigils and politicians called for stricter gun control in the wake of the shooting, survivors found solace in one another.

Lloyd Gock says a group of about 40 of them messaged over WeChat and shared meals and tears.

That night of the shooting, Gock sought cover as his friends fell around him.

“I was about 10 feet away from the shooter,” Gock said. “I just hid under the table, so the bullet just went by me.”

Lloyd Gock, a survivor of the shooting at the Star Ballroom Dance Studio shooting in Monterey Park, stands outside a sister dancehall, Lai Lai in Alhambra.

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The last year has transformed his life. Gock, who owns an apparel company, found himself in the role of activist. He testified for tighter gun control and advocated for a fund for survivors who were not injured, which the city created. (A separate fund that raised about $1.4 million on GoFundMe has gone to victim’s families and survivors who were injured.) 

“Our life is never the same,” Gock said. “Never the same since that day.”

A place of healing

Tsay says he wants Lai Lai dance studio to continue to be a place of healing.

As the shooting’s anniversary approached, Lai Lai hosted a community event, where they offered free dance lessons.

Tsay also invited mental health clinicians to that event, among them Sheila Wu, who directs the Asian Pacific Counseling and Treatment Centers which has locations across L.A. County.

Sheila Wu, director of Asian Pacific Counseling and Treatment Centers, has been working on community events with Brandon Tsay, who's family owns Lai Lai Ballroom and Studio.

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"For people to come back to the location of what happened, I think it will trigger certain emotions in some,” Wu said.

But Wu says the event also provided a chance to offer counseling to an older, immigrant crowd that’s resistant to seeking help. She says that for many immigrants, there’s this mentality of “we have to be strong, we have to be resilient, and we cannot be weak because we have to succeed.”

Some survivors like Gock have been receptive to counseling. But he says what has helped him cope with his trauma the most has been returning to the dance floor.

“Pretty much you don't have to think about anything, you just concentrate on the next turn with your partner,” Gock said. “All your worries go away for that few minutes that you're dancing.”

Hattie Peng dances with her friend and fellow survivor Lloyd Gock in Lai Lai's ballroom.

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At the community event at Lai Lai, Gock approaches his friend and fellow survivor Hattie Peng, who’s wearing a flowy mini skirt and sparkly headband. She started dancing again a few months after the shooting. She’s now back to coaxing friends to dance the waltz, her favorite.

“Lai le, Lai le!” she says in Mandarin — meaning “come come.” Same words as the name of the studio. And Gock does — Peng takes his hand and they dip and weave across the floor.