Latest news with #Latino-majority
Los Angeles Times
4 days ago
- Health
- Los Angeles Times
The profound environmental health disparities between Latino and white neighborhoods in L.A.
A new data tool from researchers at UCLA highlights significant environmental health disparities between Latino and white neighborhoods in L.A., providing critical insights amid escalating public health concerns linked to the places where climate change and the Trump administration's recent immigration policy actions intersect. The Latino Climate and Health Dashboard, developed by UCLA's Latino Policy and Politics Institute with support from the California Wellness Foundation, consolidates county-specific data on how Latino communities disproportionately suffer from extreme heat and air pollution. It compares Latino-majority (census tracts that have more than 70% Latino residents) and non-Latino white-majority (census tracts that have more than 70% non-Latino white residents) neighborhoods across 23 counties in California. The counties included in the study represent more than 90% of the state's Latino population. With California anticipating a particularly hot summer, the dashboard's data highlight troubling disparities. Latino neighborhoods across California experience approximately 23 more extreme-heat days per year than non-Latino white neighborhoods. The data further reveal that Latino neighborhoods often have more impervious surfaces and older housing stock lacking modern cooling systems, both of which compound the risks of heat exposure. Residents in these communities also frequently hold jobs in outdoor or otherwise heat-exposed industries. 'Extreme heat isn't just uncomfortable, it's deadly,' emphasized Irene Burga, a member of the dashboard's advisory committee and director of the Climate Justice and Clean Air Program at Green Latinos, a national nonprofit. According to Burga, Latino communities in places already burdened by air pollution, inadequate infrastructure and systemic neglect — such as Los Angeles and the Central Valley — face intensified and exacerbated risks. Designed to be user-friendly and accessible, the dashboard has interactive maps and downloadable county-specific fact sheets. According to the researchers who developed the tool, the design is meant to enable policymakers, community advocates, journalists and researchers easily identify the areas of greatest need. Anyone can access the information, which includes statistics on extreme heat and fine particulate matter, alongside health outcomes, such as asthma rates and emergency room visits. Users can also cross-reference underlying sociodemographic factors, such as housing quality, tree canopy coverage and employment in heat-exposed industries, to see the environmental effects on various communities. The results: All of these factors appear to compound environmental health risks for Latinos. For example, if you click on the 'extreme heat' fact sheet for Los Angeles County, you will see a map showing which neighborhoods in the county experience below or above the average number of extreme heat days every year, with Latino neighborhoods highlighted. The data show that, annually, Latino neighborhoods experience 25 extreme heat days. In similar non-Latino white neighborhoods, that number is only eight. Another example: In Latino neighborhoods, 4% of land has tree canopy. In non-Latino white neighborhoods, that number is 9% on average. 'Latino communities are on the front lines of climate change, yet they've often been left out of the data and decisions that shape public health and environmental policy,' Arturo Vargas Bustamante, a UCLA professor of health policy and management and principal investigator of the project, said in a news release. 'This dashboard puts reliable, localized data directly into the hands of policymakers, advocates and residents so they can push for the equitable responses we urgently need.' Local organizations have welcomed the dashboard as a significant step forward in their advocacy efforts. 'It's everything that you need right there in a very digestible format,' said Mar Velez, policy director at the Latino Coalition for a Healthy California and a member of the dashboard's advisory committee. That said, she noted, it's essential to combine the quantitative analysis the dashboard provides with 'the human element.' Her organization 'is really going to be able to leverage the dashboard by bringing those two together,' Velez said. 'We'll be presenting and talking to legislators about [this], as we are continuing to deal with the impacts' of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids. The recent ICE raids in Los Angeles and across California have intensified fears within immigrant communities, which are predominantly Latino. Such fears are preventing individuals from seeking essential medical care, potentially exacerbating existing health disparities in neighborhoods already burdened by environmental hazards. 'Immigrant communities were among the groups that were less likely to use healthcare in general, and we also knew that they lived in areas that were more likely to be exposed to climate change or pollution,' said Bustamante, the UCLA researcher. 'This situation has exacerbated the conditions that they experience.' Velez emphasized the potential effects that can be seen as temperatures rise and ICE raids continue to stoke fear in Latino communities. 'People are staying home,' she said. 'So, as temperatures increase, as the days get hotter … people are going to continue to stay at home — because they're scared to go outside, because they're scared of encountering ICE, then having health issues, heat strokes.' In a city where air conditioning isn't mandated in rental units, and cooling centers may not feel accessible or safe, Velez fears what could come next. 'I see this being a huge issue for our community. … We need our legislators to understand that we're not just dealing with the ICE raids,' Velez said. The UCLA database, she thinks, can help: 'Uncovering and really understanding the layers of impact, I think, is something that I'm really looking forward to in terms of being able to leverage this tool.'
Yahoo
13-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Contributor: Trump's war on Latinos reaches a new low in abuse of Sen. Alex Padilla
The U.S. population includes an estimated 65.2 million Latinos, nearly a quarter of whom call California home. For over a century, Latinos were absent from the state's two U.S. Senate seats. In 2022, Sen. Alex Padilla reversed the willful neglect of Latino senatorial candidates by both major political parties, winning 61.1% of the vote, more than any other statewide candidate, including Gov. Gavin Newsom. On Thursday, in the midst of the Trump administration's largest immigration raids to date, Padilla was forcibly removed at a Department of Homeland Security press conference in his hometown, Los Angeles. Manhandled, for daring to exercise his congressional responsibilities. Pushed out of a job-related meeting for asking a question. For many Latinos, the abhorrent treatment of Padilla by the Trump administration is emblematic of a shared grievance: being pushed out of conversations about our lives, our families and our futures. The Trump administration's immigration raids are squarely a Latino issue. Not because immigration is a Latino issue — all issues are Latino issues — but because Trump's immigration enforcement is and has always been racially motivated. From Trump's campaign announcement in 2015, calling Mexicans rapists and criminals, to his fixation with building a wall across our southern border and having Mexico pay for it, to his 2024 campaign focused on falsehoods about immigrants and criminality, the central narrative has been 'us' versus 'them.' Immigration is a concern in every city and state, yet Trump's immigration enforcement seems to be exclusively focused on Latino communities. In Los Angeles, Trump's raids are explicitly targeting Latino-majority neighborhoods and cities including Westlake, Paramount and Compton, going beyond data-informed enforcement actions to the racial profiling of Latinos near schools, tending to errands like getting a car washed or sitting in a church parking lot. Over the last week, Los Angeles has been ground zero for Trump's federal overreach. Padilla's silencing and removal follow refusals to admit four U.S. House representatives at the Los Angeles federal detention center on Saturday and three representatives to the Immigration and Customs Enforcement processing center in Adelanto on Sunday. While immigration raids raise serious policy and human rights concerns, the unequal treatment of Latino congressional leaders by the Trump administration represents a different kind of hazard: a test for control of our democratic republic. America has three co-equal branches: legislative, executive, judiciary. This system of separation of powers and checks and balances is designed to prevent tyranny and ensure a balanced government. For the last five months, the Trump administration has upended our system of governance. The Trump administration bypassed Congress' budgetary actions by eliminating foreign aid. Trump officials willfully ignored judicial orders. They've blocked sitting members of the House and Senate from entering federal buildings, obstructed them from conducting oversight and undermined their inquiries. Like Trump's immigration enforcement actions, the administration's overreach is racially motivated. Latinos have long expressed that no one is listening to their needs — that they are left out of the conversation and never at the table where decisions are being made. Research has made clear that Latinos bear the brunt of underrepresentation across important societal institutions such as academia, private enterprise, philanthropy and news media. The list goes on. Unfortunately, when Latinos achieve positions that ought to wield power — such as Padilla's ascent to the Senate — the positions themselves tend to be diminished, so that — again, like Padilla being silenced at a press conference — the Latinos who gain prominence are denied the power that non-Latinos enjoy in parallel positions. This week's events provide a new chapter in the diminishment of Latino agency and dignity; members of Congress were denied entry to do their jobs, and in the case of Padilla, forcibly removed and detained. One thing is consistent: the repeated dehumanization of Latinos and their needs. Latinos are not a monolith, but the Trump administration is surely treating us as such. His administration has rolled out a carte blanche attack on Latinos. From Latino community members being stalked and apprehended in Home Depot parking lots, at places of worship or their children's school graduations, to targeted attacks on the sustainability and operations of Latino-led nonprofit organizations, to the physical assault of a U.S. senator. The subjugation of Latinos is currently on full display in Los Angeles, a region that fuels the world's fourth-largest economy (California) and is the global epicenter of media and entertainment. The absence of meaningful Latino participation in shaping narratives, trends and the public imagination is cause for concern. Any conversation on the fragility of American democracy, the resurgence of fascism and authoritarianism and the future of the Constitution is, inherently, a discourse about Latinos — and about all Americans. So long as Latinos remain silenced, ostracized and relegated to the periphery in conversations about the future of this nation, that future remains bleak. The test of how America responds in real time to the wholesale attack on its second-largest demographic group is now a shared assignment. And the group's leader is Padilla. Sonja Diaz is a civil rights attorney and co-founder of the Latina Futures 2050 Lab and UCLA Latino Policy & Politics Institute. If it's in the news right now, the L.A. Times' Opinion section covers it. Sign up for our weekly opinion newsletter. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
13-06-2025
- Politics
- Los Angeles Times
Trump's war on Latinos reaches a new low in abuse of Sen. Alex Padilla
The U.S. population includes an estimated 65.2 million Latinos, nearly a quarter of whom call California home. For over a century, Latinos were absent from the state's two U.S. Senate seats. In 2022, Sen. Alex Padilla reversed the willful neglect of Latino senatorial candidates by both major political parties, winning 61.1% of the vote, more than any other statewide candidate, including Gov. Gavin Newsom. On Thursday, in the midst of the Trump administration's largest immigration raids to date, Padilla was forcibly removed at a Department of Homeland Security press conference in his hometown, Los Angeles. Manhandled, for daring to exercise his congressional responsibilities. Pushed out of a job-related meeting for asking a question. For many Latinos, the abhorrent treatment of Padilla by the Trump administration is emblematic of a shared grievance: being pushed out of conversations about our lives, our families and our futures. The Trump administration's immigration raids are squarely a Latino issue. Not because immigration is a Latino issue — all issues are Latino issues — but because Trump's immigration enforcement is and has always been racially motivated. From Trump's campaign announcement in 2015, calling Mexicans rapists and criminals, to his fixation with building a wall across our southern border and having Mexico pay for it, to his 2024 campaign focused on falsehoods about immigrants and criminality, the central narrative has been 'us' versus 'them.' Immigration is a concern in every city and state, yet Trump's immigration enforcement seems to be exclusively focused on Latino communities. In Los Angeles, Trump's raids are explicitly targeting Latino-majority neighborhoods and cities including Westlake, Paramount and Compton, going beyond data-informed enforcement actions to the racial profiling of Latinos near schools, tending to errands like getting a car washed or sitting in a church parking lot. Over the last week, Los Angeles has been ground zero for Trump's federal overreach. Padilla's silencing and removal follow refusals to admit four U.S. House representatives at the Los Angeles federal detention center on Saturday and three representatives to the Immigration and Customs Enforcement processing center in Adelanto on Sunday. While immigration raids raise serious policy and human rights concerns, the unequal treatment of Latino congressional leaders by the Trump administration represents a different kind of hazard: a test for control of our democratic republic. America has three co-equal branches: legislative, executive, judiciary. This system of separation of powers and checks and balances is designed to prevent tyranny and ensure a balanced government. For the last five months, the Trump administration has upended our system of governance. The Trump administration bypassed Congress' budgetary actions by eliminating foreign aid. Trump officials willfully ignored judicial orders. They've blocked sitting members of the House and Senate from entering federal buildings, obstructed them from conducting oversight and undermined their inquiries. Like Trump's immigration enforcement actions, the administration's overreach is racially motivated. Latinos have long expressed that no one is listening to their needs — that they are left out of the conversation and never at the table where decisions are being made. Research has made clear that Latinos bear the brunt of underrepresentation across important societal institutions such as academia, private enterprise, philanthropy and news media. The list goes on. Unfortunately, when Latinos achieve positions that ought to wield power — such as Padilla's ascent to the Senate — the positions themselves tend to be diminished, so that — again, like Padilla being silenced at a press conference — the Latinos who gain prominence are denied the power that non-Latinos enjoy in parallel positions. This week's events provide a new chapter in the diminishment of Latino agency and dignity; members of Congress were denied entry to do their jobs, and in the case of Padilla, forcibly removed and detained. One thing is consistent: the repeated dehumanization of Latinos and their needs. Latinos are not a monolith, but the Trump administration is surely treating us as such. His administration has rolled out a carte blanche attack on Latinos. From Latino community members being stalked and apprehended in Home Depot parking lots, at places of worship or their children's school graduations, to targeted attacks on the sustainability and operations of Latino-led nonprofit organizations, to the physical assault of a U.S. senator. The subjugation of Latinos is currently on full display in Los Angeles, a region that fuels the world's fourth-largest economy (California) and is the global epicenter of media and entertainment. The absence of meaningful Latino participation in shaping narratives, trends and the public imagination is cause for concern. Any conversation on the fragility of American democracy, the resurgence of fascism and authoritarianism and the future of the Constitution is, inherently, a discourse about Latinos — and about all Americans. So long as Latinos remain silenced, ostracized and relegated to the periphery in conversations about the future of this nation, that future remains bleak. The test of how America responds in real time to the wholesale attack on its second-largest demographic group is now a shared assignment. And the group's leader is Padilla. Sonja Diaz is a civil rights attorney and co-founder of the Latina Futures 2050 Lab and UCLA Latino Policy & Politics Institute.
Yahoo
12-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
L.A. law enforcement leaders walk tightrope in missives about immigration crackdown
While publicly chastising groups protesting immigration raids, Los Angeles Police Chief Jim McDonnell has offered support to officers in his Latino-majority department who may have mixed feelings about the Trump administration's crackdown. In a department-wide missive sent out earlier this week as protests ramped up, McDonnell acknowledged some officers were "facing criticism from the community or wrestling with the personal impact," of recent events and needed support. "When federal immigration enforcement actions take place in communities that may reflect your own heritage, neighborhoods, or even your family's story, it can create a deep and painful conflict," he wrote. "You may be wearing the uniform and fulfilling your duty, but inside, you're asked to hold a complex mix of emotions." It was an unusual display of solidarity for a chief who has rarely waded into the contentious immigration debate. McDonnell has bristled over criticism about his relationship with the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement while serving as Los Angeles County Sheriff during Trump's first term. Read more: How L.A. law enforcement got pulled into the fight over Trump's immigration crackdown In interviews and public comments since becoming chief McDonnell has sought to distance himself from a policy as sheriff that allowed federal immigration authorities to operate freely, targeting people for deportation in the nation's largest jail system. Both McDonnell and current L.A. County Sheriff Robert Luna have stressed that their departments do not cooperate with federal authorities solely for immigration purposes — polices adopted long ago to help build trust within the city's diverse communities. In his own message to his department this week, Luna thanked deputies for their "professionalism, resolve, and unwavering dedication" — but only briefly alluded to the immigration debate. "Despite the complexity of this situation — made even more challenging by the heightened political environment — I trust and fully expect that you will continue to demonstrate the same level of excellence, thoughtfulness, and integrity that have brought us this far," Luna said. Critics of local law enforcement actions in recent days note that racial bias also remains a contentious issue, with LAPD officers pulling over and shooting Latino Angelenos at a higher rate than their share of the overall population. When asked about how he is working to keep the city's immigrant population safe, McDonnell often cites Special Order 40, the landmark policy adopted in 1979 that forbids LAPD officers from stopping people to inquire about their citizenship status. But Trump's actions have put the chief and other local leaders in the awkward position of having to defend federal officers and property — while also trying to communicate that they are not on the side of immigration agents. In his recent message to department employees, McDonnell said he recognized they "may feel loyalty, frustration, fear, or sometimes even shame as the community mistakenly views you as part of something that you are not." The public may not "see the nuance," of the LAPD's postion, he said, because "simply being present can make it seem like you support an action you may not agree with, or that you're complicit in pain affecting your own community." Publicly, though, the chief has struck a different, sometimes defensive tone, often focusing his remarks on destruction caused by some protesters. At a City Council hearing Tuesday, he sparred with city leaders who challenged the department's relationship with federal authorities. In one exchange, City Council President Marqueece Harris-Dawson said he disagreed with the chief on referring to agencies such as ICE as 'law enforcement partners.' 'I don't care what badge they have on or whose orders they're under. They're not our partners," Harris-Dawson said. Read more: The LAPD is still paying for George Floyd protest tactics. Will lawsuits force change? Councilmember Hugo Soto-Martinez, who sits on the Council's public safety committee and represents an Echo Park-to-Hollywood district, said in a statement to The Times that he wasn't surprised that Latino police officers may be feeling conflicted. "Families are being ripped apart, and I'd bet nearly every one of them has a parent or relative who's undocumented, or were even undocumented themselves at some point," said Soto-Martinez. Art Placencia, a retired LAPD detective, recalled being a young cop on the job in the years when cops would arrest Latinos simply because they believed that they might be in the country illegally and deliver them into federal custody. The LAPD of today is vastly different than when he was on the job, he said. Prodded by lawsuits and consent decrees, the once-mostly white department has grown to become more than half Latino, which more or less mirrors the city's demographics. And while Latino officials are under-represented in the LAPD's upper echelons, they wield more political clout than ever, Placencia said. Placencia, the former president of an prominent association for Latino officers that once sued the LAPD for discrimination in promotion decisions, said McDonnell is caught in a bind of having to navigate the city's left-leaning politics while also backing up his rank-and-file officers on the front lines against hostile crowds. "He's gotta show that he's concerned about the officers and their feelings," said Placencia. "They're the ones that are out there, they're the ones that are getting rocks thrown at them." In past interviews, McDonnell has spoken proudly about his immigrant upbringing — both of his parents moved to Boston from Ireland a year before he was born — saying that he understands the struggle of trying to make a better life in America. But as sheriff he also came under fire by breaking ranks with many other area politicians by opposing a 'sanctuary state' bill that sought to prevent federal immigration agents from taking custody of people being released from California jails. The selection of McDonnell last November came as a disappointment among some within the department, who had hoped Bass would pick Robert Arcos, a third-generation Mexican American, who had the backing of some powerful Latino civic leaders and would have been the first Latino chief of a city that is more than 50% Latino. Ruben Lopez, a retired LAPD SWAT lieutenant, said he appreciated that McDonnell decided to address the internal moral dilemma that some officers face. Lopez remembers wrestling with similar feelings when, as a young cop, he was on the front lines of a massive protest over Proposition 187, a controversial law that would bar undocumented immigrants from receiving public school educations and a range of other state- and county-funded benefits. "I remember some of the command staff wanted to be more aggressive, and I felt these were just families and kids wanting to exercise their right to protest," he said. "Because if we don't have that trust in the community, including immigrant communities then we're not going to get that collaborative approach to police a city of this size." Times staff writer Connor Sheets contributed reporting. Sign up for Essential California for news, features and recommendations from the L.A. Times and beyond in your inbox six days a week. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
12-06-2025
- Politics
- Los Angeles Times
L.A. law enforcement leaders walk tightrope in missives about immigration crackdown
While publicly chastising groups protesting immigration raids, Los Angeles Police Chief Jim McDonnell has offered support to officers in his Latino-majority department who may have mixed feelings about the Trump administration's crackdown. In a department-wide missive sent out earlier this week as protests ramped up, McDonnell acknowledged some officers were 'facing criticism from the community or wrestling with the personal impact,' of recent events and needed support. 'When federal immigration enforcement actions take place in communities that may reflect your own heritage, neighborhoods, or even your family's story, it can create a deep and painful conflict,' he wrote. 'You may be wearing the uniform and fulfilling your duty, but inside, you're asked to hold a complex mix of emotions.' It was an unusual display of solidarity for a chief who has rarely waded into the contentious immigration debate. McDonnell has bristled over criticism about his relationship with the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement while serving as Los Angeles County Sheriff during Trump's first term. In interviews and public comments since becoming chief McDonnell has sought to distance himself from a policy as sheriff that allowed federal immigration authorities to operate freely, targeting people for deportation in the nation's largest jail system. Both McDonnell and current L.A. County Sheriff Robert Luna have stressed that their departments do not cooperate with federal authorities solely for immigration purposes — polices adopted long ago to help build trust within the city's diverse communities. In his own message to his department this week, Luna thanked deputies for their 'professionalism, resolve, and unwavering dedication' — but only briefly alluded to the immigration debate. 'Despite the complexity of this situation — made even more challenging by the heightened political environment — I trust and fully expect that you will continue to demonstrate the same level of excellence, thoughtfulness, and integrity that have brought us this far,' Luna said. Critics of local law enforcement actions in recent days note that racial bias also remains a contentious issue, with LAPD officers pulling over and shooting Latino Angelenos at a higher rate than their share of the overall population. When asked about how he is working to keep the city's immigrant population safe, McDonnell often cites Special Order 40, the landmark policy adopted in 1979 that forbids LAPD officers from stopping people to inquire about their citizenship status. But Trump's actions have put the chief and other local leaders in the awkward position of having to defend federal officers and property — while also trying to communicate that they are not on the side of immigration agents. In his recent message to department employees, McDonnell said he recognized they 'may feel loyalty, frustration, fear, or sometimes even shame as the community mistakenly views you as part of something that you are not.' The public may not 'see the nuance,' of the LAPD's postion, he said, because 'simply being present can make it seem like you support an action you may not agree with, or that you're complicit in pain affecting your own community.' Publicly, though, the chief has struck a different, sometimes defensive tone, often focusing his remarks on destruction caused by some protesters. At a City Council hearing Tuesday, he sparred with city leaders who challenged the department's relationship with federal authorities. In one exchange, City Council President Marqueece Harris-Dawson said he disagreed with the chief on referring to agencies such as ICE as 'law enforcement partners.' 'I don't care what badge they have on or whose orders they're under. They're not our partners,' Harris-Dawson said. Councilmember Hugo Soto-Martinez, who sits on the Council's public safety committee and represents an Echo Park-to-Hollywood district, said in a statement to The Times that he wasn't surprised that Latino police officers may be feeling conflicted. 'Families are being ripped apart, and I'd bet nearly every one of them has a parent or relative who's undocumented, or were even undocumented themselves at some point,' said Soto-Martinez. Art Placencia, a retired LAPD detective, recalled being a young cop on the job in the years when cops would arrest Latinos simply because they believed that they might be in the country illegally and deliver them into federal custody. The LAPD of today is vastly different than when he was on the job, he said. Prodded by lawsuits and consent decrees, the once-mostly white department has grown to become more than half Latino, which more or less mirrors the city's demographics. And while Latino officials are under-represented in the LAPD's upper echelons, they wield more political clout than ever, Placencia said. Placencia, the former president of an prominent association for Latino officers that once sued the LAPD for discrimination in promotion decisions, said McDonnell is caught in a bind of having to navigate the city's left-leaning politics while also backing up his rank-and-file officers on the front lines against hostile crowds. 'He's gotta show that he's concerned about the officers and their feelings,' said Placencia. They're the ones that are out there, they're the ones that are getting rocks thrown at them.' In past interviews, McDonnell has spoken proudly about his immigrant upbringing — both of his parents moved to Boston from Ireland a year before he was born — saying that he understands the struggle of trying to make a better life in America. But as sheriff he also came under fire by breaking ranks with many other area politicians by opposing a 'sanctuary state' bill that sought to prevent federal immigration agents from taking custody of people being released from California jails. The selection of McDonnell last November came as a disappointment among some within the department, who had hoped Bass would Arcos, a third-generation Mexican American, had the backing of some powerful Latino civic leaders and would have been the first Latino chief of a city that is more than 50% Latino. Ruben Lopez, a retired LAPD SWAT lieutenant, said he appreciated that McDonnell decided to address the internal moral dilemma that some officers face. Lopez remembers wrestling with similar feelings when, as a young cop, he was on the front lines of a massive protest over Proposition 187, a controversial law that would bar undocumented immigrants from receiving public school educations and a range of other state- and county-funded benefits. 'I remember some of the command staff wanted to be more aggressive, and I felt these were just families and kids wanting to exercise their right to protest,' he said. 'Because if we don't have that trust in the community, including immigrant communities then we're not going to get that collaborative approach to police a city of this size.' Times staff writer Connor Sheets contributed reporting.
