Canto CDXXI: What I Told the Urban History Association about L.A.

Gentle cabrones:

The Biltmore Hotel is one of the great treasures of Los Angeles, a magnificent structure in downtown right across from the Central Library that speaks to the city’s past and present.

Wander through the hallway that leads to the restroom, and you can see photos from its 102-year history — when I was there Thursday, I noticed one of Walt Disney doing God-knows-what. I usually visit the Biltmore at least once a year — if it’s not for one of the Los Angeles Press Club’s two awards nights, it’s for the annual gala of Capital and Main, the nonprofit news agency that gave me a chance when others wouldn’t and whom ask me to emcee their soiree every other year, it seems (Canto CCCXCCIII).

Even activists want to cozy up to the glamour of Old Hollywood — and it helps that the Biltmore is a union hotel, proudly represented by Unite Here Local 11!

But this past Thursday, I had another task at hand.

Organizers with the Urban History Association asked me to be part of their opening plenary session, whatever the hell that is. I’ve written before about my dalliances with academia before (The Ford Fellowship in Canto CCCLVIII, the Organization of American Historians in Canto CCLVIII), so to hobnob with a group of people I just might know was too irresistible, deadlines be damned.

I’m a failed academic, after all — as I’m writing this, I’m remembering looking at a brochure for the American Studies program I was considering the spring of my final quarter at UCLA grad school, which I never pursued because I was committed to journalism by then but I was also too scared to leave home. But imagined how life would’ve been if I ended up in Lawrence…

It all worked in the end.

This time, the invite from the Urban History Association was more specific: I was asked to speak along with other scholars about what Los Angeles can teach the rest of the country at this moment.

Damn.

The panel wouldn’t start until 6 in the evening, but I showed up early to drink a Manhattan at the Biltmore’s great bar with…someone. While I was there, I ran into the general manager, who randomly showed up to Alta Baja about a month and a half ago and showed up the following week because he liked it so much.

“Wow, you really meant it when you said you like to visit our bar!” the general manager said as he saw me with…someone…and we shook hands and I told him I never lie.

After my drinks, I sat to edit my thoughts. I’m best with no prepared remarks, but I felt the topic was weighty enough for me to offer a short speech. A group of historians from around the country were coming into a city that has dominated headlines this year and especially since the summer — and not good headlines. I wanted to leave them with something more than a rant, as nimble as I am with them.

Besides, the people I was joining! Becky Nicolaides, the preeminent historian of Southeast L.A. County. Brenda Levin, who who helped to restore the Griffith Park Observatory AND Grand Central Market. Raphael J. Sonenshein, head of the Haynes Foundation and THE historian of L.A. politics. Moderating the panel would be UCLA Luskin Center for History and Policy head David Myers

And then there was me.

As I sat, I waved hola at UC Riverside professor Jorge N. Leal, my old camarada from the days when rock en español ruled Southern California. “I love your bag!” he said, motioning to my Santiago Canyon College MEChA tote.

“Kids don’t even know what MEChA is nowadays,” I replied, drawing viejito nods of disbelief from the two of us.

Wait…was that UTEP history profe Miguel Juarez?! Hadn’t seen him in forever. He handed me a flyer for his upcoming book, Frontera Freeways: Highway Building and DIsplacement in El Paso, Texas. “I’m going to have a reading at the Western History Association, and they’re going to say, ‘What the hell is this?’ and I’m going to say, ‘Read it,’” Profe Miguel said with a smile.

Profe Jorge introduced me to his grad student, who’s from Sacramento and working on public histories (when my joke about how Sacra is the home of Richard Rodriguez and Rush Limbaugh fell flat, I saved myself by noting that Ernesto Galarza is also from there). I finished my draft then proceeded to the ballroom where a good crowd of historians would hear us.

“You’re the youth voice,” Profe David cracked as my People’s Guide to Orange County co-author Elainne Lewinnek came up to us.

“Wait, isn’t your panel right now in Boyle Heights?” I told her. She and other contributors to Writing the Golden State: The New Literary Terrain of California were going to read at Espacio 1839

“We switched it so we can hear this one!” Elainne replied. “You should come after!”

The panel started. Daniel began his remarks and talked me up to the point I had to say “Most people here don’t know who I am,” which drew knowing laughter from the audience.

It was true. The people among me are rock stars in urban history for their work. I’m just a hack columnista, a point I made in my opening remarks. I also drew cheers when I said the Dodgers-Phillies score and more laughter when I admitted I didn’t belong here because I’m from Orange County.

After finishing my warmup, I gave my thoughts.

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As usual when I share speeches, these are my prepared remarks. I mostly stuck to them and offered only a few asides, which I mark below as much as I could remember them. And away we go…

On July 7 of this year, L.A. councilmember Eunisses Hernandez joined other political, community and labor leaders at a press conference at City Hall. The city had just been invaded by Donald Trump.

A brigade of migra had swept through historic Macarthur Park in a show of farce — yes, farce [giggles from some in the audience] — as armed National Guard troops watched on. Agents on horseback stomped through a lawn where a children’s day camp had sat just moments earlier. Migra cameramen captured every move of Border Patrol Sector Chief Gregory Bovino, looking every bit the knockoff Lt. Col. Kilgore that he is [chuckles from the audience].

The government knew exactly what it was doing. They had spent the summer terrorizing Southern California with indiscriminate immigration raids, nabbing undocumented immigrants and citizens alike. Taking over Macarthur Park, a greenspace that has long been a gathering spot for the city's immigrant communities, was meant to make L.A. tremble.

Councilmember Hernandez wouldn't have it.

“Please understand that what’s happening here in the city of Los Angeles, we are the canary in the coal mine," she said at the City Hall press conference. "What you see happening in MacArthur Park is coming to you ... So wake up.”

It's now early October. Trump is seeking to send the National Guard to any municipality that dares opposes his deportation Leviathan. Chicago is now under siege. So is Portland. Others are to come -- ICE is about to gleefully accept a cartoonish budget increase, government shutdown be damned.

But thankfully, people are listening to Hernandez’s warning. People are listening to LA.

Los buenos -- the good ones -- aren’t backing down, because L.A. taught them how to resist. because LA has united in the name of itself.

The popular national narrative about this city is that it's a megalopolis perpetually at war with itself because it’s too damn spread out and diverse. It's something I believed before I began to cover the city in depth five years ago as a columnista for the Los Angeles Times. From South L.A. to the San Fernando Valley, Boyle Heights to Mar Vista and so many other neighborhoods in between all those, clashes and misunderstandings of all sorts are baked into the city's daily churn.

Then came the summer of 2025.

The city has stood magnificently athwart MAGA. It has organized and resisted Trump — okay, let’s be real: Stephen Miller [appreciative groans] — not just because LA is a city of immigrants but because we know we are the future of this country. It's why all walks of LA life, from donors to street activists, teachers and preachers, Black and white and Latino and Armenian and Persian residents and so many more, have joined the fight.

Together.

Residents have organized neighborhood watches. Local media has stepped up — everyone with a smartphone is now a reporter, offering daily truths to the Trump administrations hourly lies. Food drives and fundraisers keep families fed.

As we say in Spanish, el pueblo no se raja.

The people don't back down. Because if LA loses this battle, democracy loses. If LA wins, we all do.

A better saying, from NDLON: solo el pueblo salva el pueblo.

Only we can save ourselves.

This may not be the L.A. dream of palm trees and Hollywood, but I dare say it's the best one. Because LA operates at its best when under attack from haters [applause from some people]. It bands together and throws down, and you’re seeing it right now: a show of strength and commitment to our multicultural reality that los buenos know will one day triumph.

Councimember Hernandez was right to say Los Angeles is the canary in the coal mine. But LA’s melody is strong and beautiful and no goons will ever silence it. So learn it. Spread it.

Because L.A.’s song is not always in the key of Cassandra; it's really in the tune of freedom. Gracias.

I got good, vigorous applause. The panel was fabulous.

Afterward, someone from Sherman Oaks thanked me for standing by L.A. Someone from Cornell University thanked me for answering her question years ago about the Santa Ana Four, which she worked into her dissertation — that’s really cool! Someone else said I romanticized L.A. too much by revealing some of the racial slurs she had been subjected to. I said L.A. wasn’t perfect and pointed out that I wrote a columna last year about how Black folks were more pro-immigrant than Latinos were, and she seemed satisfied with my response.

I mistook San Diego State professor Andrew Wiese for University of Texas at Dallas professor Kevin Waite, which I made up for by bringing up Nericcio, which made Profe Andrew smile. It was too late to hit up the event in Boyle Heights, so I went home — but before I really trekked down the 5, I stopped at what’s becoming my L.A. farewell ritual: a taco árabe at Tacos Los Poblanos off Atlantic in East L.A. near the freeway.

Dodger fans were beginning to line up just after I finished my meal. L.A. is not O.C. and never will be in my heart and mind. But L.A. is wonderful — a place worth fighting for. I’m glad I can put in mi granito de arena toward the cause — every bit helps.

**

Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: Bad photo of a GREAT shakshuka and homemade flatbread at Vicky’s All Day in West Adams. Great convo with…someone.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “The great majority of us are required to live a life of constant, systemic duplicity. Your health is bound to be affected if, day after day, you say the opposite of what you feel, if you grovel before what you dislike and rejoice at what brings you nothing but misfortune. Our nervous system isn’t just a fiction, it’s a part of our physical body and our soul exists in space and is inside us, like the teeth in our mouth. It can’t be forever violated with impunity.” — Boris Pasternak

LISTENING: “Valentín de la Sierra,” Tobias Rene. New Mexico music at its best: stuck in the 1970s with horns, upstrokes mixed with guitar solo flourishes and dramatic stops that make the mix eminently danceable AND sticking to the ballads that made Mexico great instead of the corrido tumbao shit that weighs it down today. Hence included in Gustavo Arellano’s Weekly Radiola of Randomness YouTube songlist, where I’ve included every song I’ve ever featured in a canto — give it a spin!

READING: “On This Day in Civil Rights History”: Have I shared this feature from Mississippi Today before? If I have, here it is again — can’t share it enough. If I haven’t, subscribe to this nonprofit news agency’s daily newsletter if only for this series that will teach you how fucked up our country has been — and how we’ve fought back.

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  

Oct. 17, 7 p.m.: FINAL CALL for my honey’s annual Rancho Heirloom Bean Encuentro weekend festival of all things legumes. I’m in charge of “The Bean Monologues,” which is exactly what it sounds like — I and some brilliant people are going to give stories about…beans. WAY cooler than it sounds, like every goddamn thing I do, and it comes with food AND drinks! At Grand Central Art Center Black Box Theater, 125 N. Broadway, SanTana, $20 — buy tickets here NOW because Monday is the last day to buy some!

Oct. 25, 1 p.m.: Join me in conversation with the legendary L.A. scribe D.J. Waldie as we talk about his new book! At my honey’s Alta Baja, where he’s regularly gone for years, 201 E. Fourth St., Ste. 101, SanTana. Convo FREE; books, BARATO.

Nov. 8, 9 a.m.: Join me and my People’s Guide to Orange County co-authors as we do a walking tour of Anacrime and its hidden history. $15 — buy tickets HERE.

Nov. 13, 6:30 p.m.: Truly a night you don’t want to miss at the Frida Cinema: a zoot suit fashion show coordinated by Fullerton School District trustee Vanesa Estrella (whose family runs the iconic El Pachuco shop in Fullerton) followed by a screening of Luis Valdez’s scintillating film adaptation of his incredible play Zoot Suit, followed by a Q & A with me about OC’s own pachuco history (although Muzeo, the Anacrime museum that’s sponsoring this misspelled my last name TWICE). At the Frida Cinema, 305 E. Fourth St., #100, SanTana. A CHEAP $16, so buy tickets here!

Gustavo in the News

“‘A legacy news brand brings a visibility of its own’”: The Week, which I can’t believe is still around but that it is is a testament to its curation, shouts out a columna of mine.

“How a Campaign Can Change So Quickly”: AltaPolicyWonk plugs a columna of mine.

“Notes from Our Dean: October 2025”: The dean for the University of Denver's College of Arts, Humanities and Social Sciences shouts out my recent appearance there — if I made the dean happy, then I hope my hosts get a raise!

Gustavo Stories 

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

“Will Orange County go blue, red, or purple if Prop 50 passes?”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary talks about the subject at hand.

"2025 Margolin Lecture: Gustavo Arellano”: My University of Denver remarks from last month, coupled with…

“Gustavo Arellano Revisits Den-Mex, and He Has Some Thoughts”: I return to the pages of Denver’s indispensable alt-weekly Westword to give them my food diary of my visit there. KEY QUOTE: “Denver became like a second home to me, a place I began to be able to map out in my mind and began to recommend to others as a far cooler place than Austin or pinche Nashville.”

“Who knew ICE could be so funny? Just check out videos of their fails”: My latest L.A. Times columna talks about social media clips of la migra getting humiliated. KEY QUOTE: “Crank up the Benny Hill theme song and let the belly laughs commence.”

“Former bracero doesn’t want the program to return. ‘People will be treated like slaves’”: My next latest L.A. Times columna is a profile of my dad’s friend, Manuel Alvarado, a jerezano who was a bracero like my Pepe. KEY QUOTE: “He was dressed in standard Mexican grandpa attire: long flannel shirt, blue hat, jeans and sneakers along with a salt-and-pepper mustache and a leather cellphone case hanging from his belt.”

You made it this far down? Gracias! Follow me on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram while you’re down here by clicking on their logos down below. Don’t forget to forward this newsletter to your compadres y comadres! You can’t get me tacos anymore, but you sure as hell can give them — and more — to the O.C. Catholic Worker!