Canto CCCXLVII: A Play for Gloria Molina, a Win for Josefina Lopez

Gentle cabrones:

St. Louis Street in Boyle Heights between 1st and 2nd streets was shut down Thursday evening for a range of celebrations honoring Gloria Molina, the late, great Los Angeles política.

L.A. Mayor Karen Bass and councilmembers Monica Rodriguez and Kevin de León came with proclamations to commemorate August 29 as Gloria Molina Day (Rodriguez and De León also used their short speeches to rail against print and television media, for reasons known only to them). Muralist Margaret Garcia was there to accept her own accolades for a mural she unveiled honoring Gloria, a gorgeous homage to Gloria’s strength and accomplishments, and love of quilting, family and purple.

Gloria’s daughter, Valentina, thanked the seated audience of about 80 for caring so much about her mother and praised her mami for having never succumbed to scandal, unlike basically every Eastside politician since ever. And then came our guide for the night: Josefina López, artistic director of Casa 0101, on which the Gloria mural now decorates its western wall and which just debuted a play, A Woman Named Gloria, based on the life of Molina and written by López.

Josefina’s most famous for Real Women Have Curves, a pioneering play turned into a wonderful movie that launched the career of América Ferrera, let Lupe Ontiveros show Hollywood what they missed by continuously casting her as a maid, and let George Lopez show his underrated dramatic acting side. But if all you’ve ever seen of Josefina is that, you’re selling yourself short. She is what every community needs: a chronicler. A believer in said community. A mirror. A mentor.

A chingona. Just like Gloria

Casa 0101 has been making it for 24 years now, with its current 99-seat theater and art gallery open since 2011. Friends of mine from OC have apprenticed under her and now have their own playwright careers — a mark of a true teacher. López also owned and operated Casa Fina, a very good Mexican restaurant west on 1st (near Mariachi Plaza) for years before turning it over to a couple that hasn’t changed a thing. That’s where I always meet Josefina on the rare times we can hang out, when we catch up on what we’re up to (she thinks I should do a monologue, and told that to Dan Guerrero during Culture Clash’s 40th anniversary bash, to which he agreed. A cholo nerd Spaulding Gray? Maybe…).

The preview on Thursday was packed with Gloria’s family, and people from her legendary career. Former assemblymember/state senator/L.A. councilmember Gil Cedillo. Assorted Molinistas, the nickname for her army of do-gooder volunteers and staffers. Father John Moretta of Resurrection Church, who first connected with Gloria in the 1980s to fight a proposed prison in the Eastside and ended up officiating over her wedding, grandson’s baptism, and Gloria’s funeral. Congressmember Maxine Waters — who worked with Gloria in the 1970s to get more women into politics and cut Gloria her first big donation — was there during the reception. So was Brown Berets co-founder Carlos Montes.

Most folks wore purple, of course. We all admired Casa 0101’s art show dedicated to Gloria — I bought a awesome print by Pinchi Michi — during the reception. Two young women (I didn’t hear their connection to Gloria) sang a wrenching a capella version of “Gracias a la Vida,” the song that Gloria requested La Marisoul sing at her funeral. When it was time for the play, I ended up seated next to Miguel Santana, Gloria’s longtime lieutenant and currently head of the California Community Foundation, the philanthropic giant most recently run by Antonia Hernandez, the civil rights legend and Gloria’s decades-long comadre.

I was excited, I was sad, I was wary. But I knew Josefina would bring it all together — because that’s who she is, and because it was for Gloria.

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Just yesterday, a colleague of mine remarked with #respect that I have written so much about Gloria Molina.

I never thought I would. I kinda wish I never had to.

As I’ve written before, I always respected the hell out of her long before I ever wrote about her. When I did, it was surreal for me to talk to a childhood icon — and thank God she lived up to the hype I built up around her (usually, like Beto Duran says, don’t meet your heroes #betosabe). She went off in my Prop. 187 podcast against Dianne Feinstein to the point that one of the senator’s staffers demanded a retraction (didn’t happen). After I hosted a Fernandomania panel in 2021 that she was a part of, I suggested we hang out, so I could just hear her stories.

I only had half an hour to do so. By then, she was in her last months before cancer took Gloria’s life.

When I learned the news, I was gutted — not just because Gloria was just settling in her role as the grand dame of L.A. politics, but because cancer also took my mami way too early. But I had to set aside my emotions as I wrote about Gloria throughout 2023 — an appreciation, an obituary, a roundup of recollections, a dispatch from her funeral, a year-end review where I connected her with another Chicana chingona gone too soon (San Fernando Valley assemblymember and pioneering environmentalist Cindy Montañez) and an essay for…something.

Josefina said that she always wanted to write a play about Gloria, and that her death spurred it. Quick turnaround — a bit over a year. Would it work?

Josefina, ever the creative, played with the cosmos. The play starts with Gloria’s funeral at Resurrection, with Father John’s homily taken word for word. An adult Gloria (played with puck in her madrina years by Karla Ojeda) addresses the audience for a bit, then the Virgen de Guadalupe comes to take her to heaven. Gloria asks she can stay in the earthly realm just a bit longer. A Latina politician is in a crisis — she just got a DUI. That character, of course, is based on assemblymember Wendy Carrillo, who in real life is channeling Gloria’s spirit as she’s bucking the Eastside political establishment in Sacramento by trying to get a bill passed that would pay for a study on the feasibility of incorporating East Los Angeles — but that’s another story.

The first act of the play goes through a greatest hits of Gloria’s life — her brave stand as a little girl against a racist store clerk. The tragedy that was the Chicano Moratorium. The fights against machismo — so much machismo. It was great to sit next to Miguel as he knowingly laughed at some of the anecdotes — how staffers were terrified of being on her bad side. The infamous staredowns over her glasses at inept bureaucrats. The time one of them fainted during a Gloria grilling. The holiday parties where Gloria would cook 1,000 tamales.

Those who knew her will love it; those who didn’t will get a good sense of why she became one of the most consequential politicians in the history of L.A., and even become a fan.

The second act became more of a character study on a woman who gave so much yet asked for so little from others in her personal life yet asked for everything on behalf of others in her public life. Josefina zeroed in on how Gloria didn’t disclose her years-long battle with cancer to almost all of her loved ones until months before her passing as a testament to her iron will and tender heart. It tied back to a scene early in the play involving a young Gloria and her grandmother: the idea of sacrifice. Taking on the weight of the world so that others might have it easier.

It was a classic Josefina López play. Raw emotions. Humor that could get campy. Fabulous stage presentation (the use of quilts as intertitles was as smart as it was expected). There was preaching, of course, although a lot of the latter scenes were almost verbatim what Gloria had said or heard (and also, folks: Don’t skip any of your cancer screenings. Please). Tough characters who get beat down but never stop.

Josefina kindly had an actor portray me for about a minute, in a medley near the end of praise offered by people real and composite (Miguel, of course, was one of them) while a bedridden Gloria looked on in awe. That brought tears to my eyes, because it reminded me of what my mami went through and the biggest insight I got from her battle and Gloria’s:

There is no easy way to die. A sudden death is best for the deceased, but it robs the living of being able to say goodbye and usually haunts them forever. A prolonged passing from a terminal disease is hell on the ill — oh, the pain my mami and Gloria went through — with the saving grace that the world can tell them how much they loved them. I saw how those words were the best pain reliever for Mami — and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

That’s why we should all do the happy middle, Josefina argued: Praise the good ones while you can. Why wait until the end?

The standing ovation was long and heartfelt. The play continues through Oct. 6 — get your tickets TODAY.

I greeted Josefina before the play, and congratulated her afterward before taking off. Others will tell her Gloria would’ve been proud, which she absolutely would’ve been. So I’ll tell Josefina this:

To call you and Gloria chingonas is truthful but too easy. It downplays the fights the two of you took on for others, for the higher causes ustedes champion (especially your shared passion of community and arts) and what the two of you represent. I’m beyond proud of you, and hope every shows sells out — and thank you so much for being the example you are.

You’re awesome, Josefina. Lunch soon at Casa Fina?

**

Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: Virgen de Guadalupe/San Juan Diego postcard on a Northgate Supermarket poster board.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “The first night, I hit two home runs and a triple. Next night, I hit two home runs and a double. On the loudspeaker, now, they say, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we know you don’t like that kid playing center field, but please do not bother him again because he’s killing us.’” — Willie Mays, in his Hall of Fame introduction speech, talking about a racist crowd during his minor league games

LISTENING: “Do Wah Diddy,” The Exciters. Ever heard the version by Manfred Mann? Of course you have. BARF. I’ve hated that song since I first heard it on KODJ as a pre-teen — WAY overwrought (and his version of Bruce Springsteen’s “Blinded by the Light” is weak salsa, too). And then last week, I found out “Do Wah Diddy” was a cover — and the original is INCREDIBLE. All-encompassing New York early 1960s pop-soul with verve, double time at the end, and those voices! If the lead singer’s yearning sounds familiar, it’s because this is the same group that made the more famous “Tell Him, which I always thought was a one-hit wonder — not anymore.

READING: “The Reed Artist”: A mystical instrument turned tourist trap, the traditionalists who still practice the old ways of playing and production, the master who doesn’t want to grant an interview — this is way more than a music story about a flute, folks.

BUY MY NEW CO-BOOK! People’s Guide to Orange County tells an alternative history of OC through the scholarship and reporting of myself, Elaine Lewinnek, and Thuy Vo Dang. There’ll be signings all year — in meanwhile, buy your copy TODAY. And, yes: I’ll autograph it!

Gustavo Events  

Sept. 8: Speaking of incredible Latina playwrights who chronicle their community, Breath of Fire Latina Theater Ensemble (run by my fellow jerezana Sara Guerrero, who I need to do a Random Cool People I Know about soon) has been hosting corrido workshops for weeks for “Cantos, Cuentos & Corridos," an afternoon of performances about modern-day corridos about SanTana. I’m going to be part of it because how could I not! See me and others at two performances (2 p.m. and 6 p.m.) at Grand Central Arts Center Theater, 125 N. Broadway. Tickets are FREE, but you should reserve a seat.

Sept. 21, 1:30 p.m.: I’ll be in conversation with Mike Madrid, longtime GOP strategist turned Trump mega-hater and author of the new book The Latino Century: How America's Largest Minority Is Transforming Democracy at Alta Baja Market, 201 E. 4th St., Ste. 101, SanTana. Lecture is FREE and the first 50 people who show up get a FREE copy of Mike’s book — but you have to register here.

Oct. 11-13: Rancho Gordo Encuentro — the collaboration between the legendary heirloom bean purveyor and my honey’s Alta Baja Market — is BACK. It’s a weekend of beans, and I’m in charge of two events: “The Bean Monologues” (exactly what it sounds like — people tell stories about beans), and “How to Taste a Tortilla,” which is also what it sounds like AND you get to take home good tortillas!. Links to each event in the links I put in said titles, and here are the rest of the events — buy your tickets soon, because they’re going FAST.

Gustavo in the News

“The GOP foolishly objects to Biden’s plan to keep these married couples together”: The boricua compa Julio Ricardo Varela shouts out a columna of mine.

“Orange USD Will Stay Sane – but not without a Silly Season this Fall!”: Matty Cunningham is one of the hackiest hacks Orange County has ever hacked, and thank God some people still remember that — and that I’ve been hacking away at that hack since forever.

“How to Use cross-cultural in a Sentence”: Oooh, I think this is the first time Merriam-Webster has cited me! Now, for the OED…

“Kadeiloscope 2024”: I’m a judge in a binational short film contest administered on this side by Arizona State.

“A new play about Gloria Molina looks at a life in politics and the courage to look past the naysayers“: There’s my Gloria colleague!

Gustavo Stories 

“Grítale a Guti”: Latest edition of my Tuesday night IG Live free-for-all.

“Laguna Beach has a visitor problem: Trash, sex toys, fights”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary talks about what’s happening down at the end of the 133.

"Ask a Californian: All About Us”: My latest Alta Journal co-columna talks about Californian presidential candidates, our gifts to the world, and whether we’re too self-absorbed. KEY QUOTE: “Besides, everyone wants our narcissism. When was the last time you heard someone say, “Gee, I wish I was as arrogant as a Texan, as obnoxious as a New Yorker, as loony as a Floridian, or as whatever it is an Oregonian is supposed to be?”

“A Compton native and academic legend tells his story to a new generation”: My latest L.A. Times columna Talk-of-the-Towns it with retired Stanford profe Albert Camarillo at a great nonprofit. KEY QUOTE: “The audience laughed. Any generational skepticism that might have existed vanished.”

“A new era at California Endowment as longtime leader Robert K. Ross retires”: My next-latest L.A. Times columna is an interview with a philanthropic titan. KEY QUOTE: “No one’s asked me that question, because I think they assume that my career has been successful,” he said, looking around his office before cracking, “I have all these awards! Of course I’m successful!”

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