latimes--2020-07-19--How the coronavirus spread through one immigration facility

Gregory Arnold walked into the warden ’ s office April 1 as the coronavirus ripped through one of the largest immigration detention centers in the United States .
Waiting with about 40 guards to begin his shift , he heard a captain say that face masks were prohibited .
Incredulous , Arnold and a guard who had recently given birth wanted to hear it from the boss .
Arnold told Warden Christopher LaRose that he was 60 years old and lived with an asthmatic son .
“ Well , you can ’ t wear the mask , because we don @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and we don ’ t want to scare the inmates and detainees , ” Arnold recalled the warden saying .
He said he wanted to wear a mask and gloves , and “ everyone else should be doing the same.
” But the warden was unmoved .
And in the weeks that followed , Otay Mesa Detention Center would see the first big outbreak among U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement ’ s 221 detention centers .
The origins of the outbreak are uncertain , but accounts of workers and detainees reveal shortcomings @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the center handled the disease : There was an early absence of facial coverings and a lack of cleaning supplies , and symptomatic detainees were mixed with others .
Other centers would follow with their own outbreaks , and a Homeland Security Department internal watchdog survey of 188 detention centers taken in mid-April echoed some of what the Associated Press found at Otay Mesa : 19 % of facility directors said there weren ’ t enough standard surgical masks , 32 % said there weren ’ t enough N95 respirator masks , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ enough hand sanitizer for detainees .
Like they are at prisons , living conditions at these facilities are cramped — but the people held in immigration detention centers aren ’ t accused of any crime .
They wait to appear before an immigration judge to argue that they should be allowed to remain in the country .
Otay Mesa sits on a tucked-away periphery of San Diego amid vehicle storage lots , a gas-fired power plant , a state prison , county jail and juvenile detention camp .
The average daily population of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s 11th-busiest detention center .
The squat , two-story facility — managed under contract by CoreCivic Inc. and shared with U.S .
Marshals Service inmates — is surrounded by two layers of chain-link fence topped by razor wire .
Rooms with two to four bunk beds open into common areas with televisions , sofas and board games .
Margarita Smith , a guard who was named CoreCivic ’ s Otay Mesa employee of the year in 2019 , said managers frequently discouraged workers from wearing masks .
The topic came up during @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t want anyone wearing masks , ” said Smith , who was tapped in January by CoreCivic to lead an employee morale committee .
“ They said it would frighten the detainees and make them think that we ’ re sick or something.
” In a court filing , LaRose , the warden , said policies on masks evolved with guidance from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention .
Workers were required to wear them around quarantined detainees ; masks were optional for other employees starting the third week of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that Arnold and Smith dispute .
Arnold said he wore a mask after learning March 31 about the detention center ’ s first case , an employee who handed out equipment to guards starting their shifts .
Unaware of any ban on facial coverings , detainees thanked him .
“ I was disgusted , ” Arnold said .
“ It ’ s obvious this thing was ramping up .
I knew it was going to happen .
I could just tell.
” The contractor gave masks to detainees April 10 on the condition @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , according to several detainees , then quickly retreated after a tense showdown .
“ Everyone was screaming , ” said Issis Zavala of Honduras , who refused to sign but was released with an ankle bracelet because a 2007 bout of tuberculosis made her vulnerable to COVID-19 .
“ They said , ‘ You just sign it .
OK , if you don ’ t want to sign , we ’ ll just go.
’ ” On March 17 , the day San Diego limited public gatherings to 50 people and closed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ grill the warden .
Smith recalled wondering why so many people — including about half the lieutenants — were allowed to meet so closely together in one room .
When an employee pressed for clean rags , the warden answered twice that there was no need , because the chemicals used for cleaning were very powerful .
Others asked when they would get more wipes and gels .
Gloves were hard to find , Smith said .
Arnold said the ones he saw were too small for his hands .
Dispensers of hand @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the warden wasn ’ t taking the virus seriously , Smith , 48 , felt she had no choice .
She has asthma , had missed a week of work in early March with pneumonia and had been sick off and on since November .
She quit .
“ I thought to myself , I ’ m not going to get sick again , ” she said .
“ I just had a feeling that things weren ’ t going to go good.
” The detainees , of course , had not choice @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Mexico ’ s consul general in San Diego , wrote to ICE on April 16 about a “ generalized fear ” among detainees , raising concerns about mixing ill and asymptomatic detainees and requiring liability waivers for masks .
A consulate hotline received more than 100 calls .
Common grievances included lack of personal hygiene products and masks and insufficient social distancing , Gonzalez Gutierrez said .
Detainees complained that they were instructed to drink saltwater to deal with pain , and that employees were not wearing personal protective equipment .
CoreCivic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ followed the guidance of health officials and ICE .
She noted that the CDC didn ’ t fully embrace masks until the first week of April and said employees and detainees do not have to sign a waiver to receive face coverings .
“ We have responded to this unprecedented situation appropriately , thoroughly and with care for the safety and well-being of those entrusted to us and our communities , ” she said .
Victor Rodriguez , 44 , was among 35 detainees who went on a five-day hunger strike starting April @ @ @ @ @ @ @ about a detainee who worked in the dining hall handling food and appeared to have a fever , for which he was given ibuprofen .
( CoreCivic said it prohibited detainees with symptoms from working in the kitchen and that it followed CDC guidelines on cleaning and disinfectants . )
Authorities insist detainees had plenty of free soap — 23,300 bars from March 24 to April 23 — but Rodriguez said the bar he got daily was barely enough to wash his hands or shower .
Requests for hand sanitizer were denied because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ homemade alcohol .
Elizabeth Cruz , 22 , said a detainee who was coughing badly in her cell the first week of April was removed for about a week , returned and removed again before testing positive for COVID-19 .
Cruz said she reported chest pain and difficulty breathing for two weeks but couldn ’ t get more than allergy medication .
“ I know my body , and I am not well , ” she remembered telling a nurse , who told her there was nothing more she could do .
Cruz @ @ @ @ @ @ @ positive and was placed in isolation with eight other infected detainees .
The virus has brought renewed scrutiny to ICE .
The agency housed an all-time high of more than 56,000 people last year , with more than 500,000 bookings over a 12-month period , but policies to severely limit asylum and recent releases aimed at controlling the virus reduced the population to 22,340 .
Overall , ICE has had 3,596 detainees test positive for COVID-19 — 27 % of those tested .
Of those , 967 are currently in custody ; the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ recovered .
Chad Wolf , acting Homeland Security secretary , told reporters in May in San Diego that ICE stopped taking detainees at Otay Mesa and “ one or two others ” and will continue to release older and medically fragile detainees .
ICE cut the population at Otay Mesa by more than half in three months , to 376 detainees from 761 on April 1 .
For weeks , Otay Mesa had the dubious distinction of the most cases in the ICE system , but the spread effectively stopped ; 168 detainees @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the outbreak , as have 11 ICE employees and more than 30 CoreCivic workers .
ICE said in a statement that increased testing and isolating detainees who tested positive contributed to improved conditions .
Cases are surging at facilities in Farmville , Va. , where 315 detainees have tested positive ; Anson , Texas , with 290 ; Eloy , Ariz. , with 250 ; and Houston , with 206 .
At Eloy , 128 of about 315 employees had tested positive as of earlier this month , according to CoreCivic , which @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his April 1 confrontation with the warden , just as the virus was tearing through Otay Mesa .
Smith took a two-week leave before resigning , torn over her loyalty to the job and what she considers CoreCivic ’ s tendency to “ cut corners.
” Both have sued the company in federal court .
CoreCivic will address the former guards ’ accounts in court , Gilchrist said , but “ we can say generally that we deny their specious and sensationalized allegations that are designed to obtain a favorable outcome in court.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ the warden , didn ’ t respond to a request for comment .
Smith and Arnold believe the spread started with someone from outside of Otay Mesa — perhaps a guard or a lawyer .
Smith called detainees “ sitting ducks.
” “ After the first officer got it , it was like a fire there , ” Smith said .
“ It just took off after that .
”

Gregory Arnold walked into the warden’s office April 1 as the coronavirus ripped through one of the largest immigration detention centers in the United States. Waiting with about 40 guards to begin his shift, he heard a captain say that face masks were prohibited.
Incredulous, Arnold and a guard who had recently given birth wanted to hear it from the boss. Arnold told Warden Christopher LaRose that he was 60 years old and lived with an asthmatic son.
“Well, you can’t wear the mask, because we don’t want to scare the employees, and we don’t want to scare the inmates and detainees,” Arnold recalled the warden saying.
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“With all due respect, sir, that’s ridiculous,” Arnold retorted.
He said he wanted to wear a mask and gloves, and “everyone else should be doing the same.” But the warden was unmoved. And in the weeks that followed, Otay Mesa Detention Center would see the first big outbreak among U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s 221 detention centers.
The origins of the outbreak are uncertain, but accounts of workers and detainees reveal shortcomings in how the private company that manages the center handled the disease: There was an early absence of facial coverings and a lack of cleaning supplies, and symptomatic detainees were mixed with others.
Workers said managers frequently discouraged them from wearing masks. (Elliot Spagat / Associated Press)
Other centers would follow with their own outbreaks, and a Homeland Security Department internal watchdog survey of 188 detention centers taken in mid-April echoed some of what the Associated Press found at Otay Mesa: 19% of facility directors said there weren’t enough standard surgical masks, 32% said there weren’t enough N95 respirator masks, and 37% felt there wasn’t enough hand sanitizer for detainees.
Like they are at prisons, living conditions at these facilities are cramped — but the people held in immigration detention centers aren’t accused of any crime. They wait to appear before an immigration judge to argue that they should be allowed to remain in the country.
Advertisement
Otay Mesa sits on a tucked-away periphery of San Diego amid vehicle storage lots, a gas-fired power plant, a state prison, county jail and juvenile detention camp. The average daily population of 956 detainees last year made it ICE’s 11th-busiest detention center.
The squat, two-story facility — managed under contract by CoreCivic Inc. and shared with U.S. Marshals Service inmates — is surrounded by two layers of chain-link fence topped by razor wire. Rooms with two to four bunk beds open into common areas with televisions, sofas and board games.
Margarita Smith, a guard who was named CoreCivic’s Otay Mesa employee of the year in 2019, said managers frequently discouraged workers from wearing masks. The topic came up during briefings in March.
“They didn’t want anyone wearing masks,” said Smith, who was tapped in January by CoreCivic to lead an employee morale committee. “They said it would frighten the detainees and make them think that we’re sick or something.”
In a court filing, LaRose, the warden, said policies on masks evolved with guidance from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Workers were required to wear them around quarantined detainees; masks were optional for other employees starting the third week of March, he said — a statement that Arnold and Smith dispute.
Arnold said he wore a mask after learning March 31 about the detention center’s first case, an employee who handed out equipment to guards starting their shifts. Unaware of any ban on facial coverings, detainees thanked him.
“I was disgusted,” Arnold said. “It’s obvious this thing was ramping up. I knew it was going to happen. I could just tell.”
The contractor gave masks to detainees April 10 on the condition that they sign an English-language liability waiver, according to several detainees, then quickly retreated after a tense showdown.
“Everyone was screaming,” said Issis Zavala of Honduras, who refused to sign but was released with an ankle bracelet because a 2007 bout of tuberculosis made her vulnerable to COVID-19. “They said, ‘You just sign it. OK, if you don’t want to sign, we’ll just go.’”
On March 17, the day San Diego limited public gatherings to 50 people and closed restaurants, Otay Mesa colleagues gathered to grill the warden. Smith recalled wondering why so many people — including about half the lieutenants — were allowed to meet so closely together in one room.
When an employee pressed for clean rags, the warden answered twice that there was no need, because the chemicals used for cleaning were very powerful. Others asked when they would get more wipes and gels.
Gloves were hard to find, Smith said. Arnold said the ones he saw were too small for his hands. Dispensers of hand sanitizer were often empty.
Feeling that the warden wasn’t taking the virus seriously, Smith, 48, felt she had no choice. She has asthma, had missed a week of work in early March with pneumonia and had been sick off and on since November. She quit.
“I thought to myself, I’m not going to get sick again,” she said. “I just had a feeling that things weren’t going to go good.”
The detainees, of course, had not choice but to stay. Carlos Gonzalez Gutierrez, Mexico’s consul general in San Diego, wrote to ICE on April 16 about a “generalized fear” among detainees, raising concerns about mixing ill and asymptomatic detainees and requiring liability waivers for masks. A consulate hotline received more than 100 calls.
Common grievances included lack of personal hygiene products and masks and insufficient social distancing, Gonzalez Gutierrez said. Detainees complained that they were instructed to drink saltwater to deal with pain, and that employees were not wearing personal protective equipment.
CoreCivic spokeswoman Amanda Gilchrist said the contractor rigorously followed the guidance of health officials and ICE. She noted that the CDC didn’t fully embrace masks until the first week of April and said employees and detainees do not have to sign a waiver to receive face coverings.
“We have responded to this unprecedented situation appropriately, thoroughly and with care for the safety and well-being of those entrusted to us and our communities,” she said.
Victor Rodriguez, 44, was among 35 detainees who went on a five-day hunger strike starting April 4. The Guatemalan man was upset about a detainee who worked in the dining hall handling food and appeared to have a fever, for which he was given ibuprofen. (CoreCivic said it prohibited detainees with symptoms from working in the kitchen and that it followed CDC guidelines on cleaning and disinfectants.)
Authorities insist detainees had plenty of free soap — 23,300 bars from March 24 to April 23 — but Rodriguez said the bar he got daily was barely enough to wash his hands or shower. Requests for hand sanitizer were denied because authorities worried they could be used for homemade alcohol.
Elizabeth Cruz, 22, said a detainee who was coughing badly in her cell the first week of April was removed for about a week, returned and removed again before testing positive for COVID-19.
Cruz said she reported chest pain and difficulty breathing for two weeks but couldn’t get more than allergy medication.
“I know my body, and I am not well,” she remembered telling a nurse, who told her there was nothing more she could do.
Cruz, of El Salvador, eventually tested positive and was placed in isolation with eight other infected detainees.
The virus has brought renewed scrutiny to ICE. The agency housed an all-time high of more than 56,000 people last year, with more than 500,000 bookings over a 12-month period, but policies to severely limit asylum and recent releases aimed at controlling the virus reduced the population to 22,340.
Overall, ICE has had 3,596 detainees test positive for COVID-19 — 27% of those tested. Of those, 967 are currently in custody; the rest were released, deported or have recovered.
Chad Wolf, acting Homeland Security secretary, told reporters in May in San Diego that ICE stopped taking detainees at Otay Mesa and “one or two others” and will continue to release older and medically fragile detainees. ICE cut the population at Otay Mesa by more than half in three months, to 376 detainees from 761 on April 1.
For weeks, Otay Mesa had the dubious distinction of the most cases in the ICE system, but the spread effectively stopped; 168 detainees have tested positive since the start of the outbreak, as have 11 ICE employees and more than 30 CoreCivic workers. ICE said in a statement that increased testing and isolating detainees who tested positive contributed to improved conditions.
Cases are surging at facilities in Farmville, Va., where 315 detainees have tested positive; Anson, Texas, with 290; Eloy, Ariz., with 250; and Houston, with 206. At Eloy, 128 of about 315 employees had tested positive as of earlier this month, according to CoreCivic, which manages the facility.
Arnold resigned after his April 1 confrontation with the warden, just as the virus was tearing through Otay Mesa. Smith took a two-week leave before resigning, torn over her loyalty to the job and what she considers CoreCivic’s tendency to “cut corners.” Both have sued the company in federal court.
CoreCivic will address the former guards’ accounts in court, Gilchrist said, but “we can say generally that we deny their specious and sensationalized allegations that are designed to obtain a favorable outcome in court.”
Daniel Struck, an attorney for the warden, didn’t respond to a request for comment.
Smith and Arnold believe the spread started with someone from outside of Otay Mesa — perhaps a guard or a lawyer. Smith called detainees “sitting ducks.”
“After the first officer got it, it was like a fire there,” Smith said. “It just took off after that.”


latimes--2020-07-19--A fake congregation and tax schemes — California rabbi's years of fraud revealed

The Clarence S. Brooks Foundation is in a nondescript three-story building on Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles that also has a Wells Fargo bank branch and an urgent care center among its tenants .
From there , the small charitable foundation established in 2004 that had $ 5.8 million in assets at the end of 2018 , makes grants primarily to Jewish educational organizations .
The half-dozen or so annual awards run in the mid-to-low six figures each , records of the charity show .
So it probably was not much of a surprise when in 2013 the foundation received @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Poway , and its leader Rabbi Yisroel Goldstein .
The grant application said the money would be used to run one of the several programs at the Poway synagogue , helping to pay for rent , remodeling costs and payroll .
The application was a winner .
In early 2013 the foundation made a $ 600,000 grant to Goldstein , distributing the money in four $ 150,000 increments from February through November .
It was one of the largest grants it made that year .
But the money didn ’ t go @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or rent .
Instead , it went to Goldstein .
He put some of the money in personal bank accounts and converted much of it to cash after churning the grant funds through several bank accounts he controlled .
After the final payment arrived from the foundation , Goldstein handed over the bulk of the money , about $ 400,000 , to another person who had cooked up the scheme with him , and pocketed the balance .
The Brooks Foundation scam is just one of numerous frauds described in detail in court @ @ @ @ @ @ @ plea Tuesday to tax fraud and wire fraud .
The 58-year-old rabbi — who gained international notoriety after a April 27 , 2019 , shooting attack on Chabad of Poway synagogue that killed congregant Lori Gilbert-Kaye and injured three others , including Goldstein — admitted to years of illegal schemes involving taxes , government programs , real estate and public and private grant programs .
The court records illustrate in detail a spectrum of frauds that are staggering in their amount , scope and duration .
They also reveal that after federal agents @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s offices at Chabad of Poway and at his home in October 2018 , the rabbi — now knowing he was under federal scrutiny — tipped off no fewer than five others who had participated in various schemes over the years .
One of them was an individual identified in the documents only as “ M.S.
” who had participated in the Brooks Foundation fraud with Goldstein and got the lion ’ s share of the misappropriated funds .
In December 2018 , five years after divvying up the foundation money and two @ @ @ @ @ @ @ M.S .
about the investigation , the records say .
Goldstein pleaded guilty Tuesday to conspiracy to defraud the government and wire fraud charges .
The charges cover a period from 2010-18 but prosecutors said he had been engaged in fraud as far back as the 1980s .
The FBI put the total amount of money in play in the scheme at $ 18 million .
U.S. Attorney Robert Brewer said Tuesday that his office has already decided not to seek a prison term for Goldstein , citing his cooperation with an ongoing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pleading guilty and as many as 20 more under investigation , and his conduct in the wake of the attack .
After the shooting , he called for tolerance , love and forgiveness in numerous appearances and speeches .
He was invited to the White House , met President Trump , and hosted the vice president at the Poway synagogue .
At the time , however , he was under investigation by the federal government and had agreed to cooperate with a probe into years , perhaps decades , of serial frauds he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ public for the first time Tuesday .
No one from the Brooks Foundation responded to several requests for an interview last week .
Neither Goldstein nor his lawyers have responded to numerous requests for comment over the last year from the San Diego Union-Tribune , and they declined to comment after his guilty plea .
Citing exhaustion , he retired from Chabad of Poway , which he founded in 1986 , in November .
But the court records show that he signed the plea agreement that same month .
And the world headquarters @ @ @ @ @ @ @ learned of his crimes late last year and forced him out .
The court records describe a long-running tax evasion scheme that Brewer called the “ 90-10 fraud ” at a news conference after the guilty plea Tuesday .
It involved donors writing large checks to Chabad as “ donations ” to the tax-exempt organization , and in return getting a receipt on Chabad letterhead that they could use to claim a large tax deduction .
They also got 90 % of their money back secretly .
Goldstein kept 10 % , according @ @ @ @ @ @ @ signed .
In the court records , donors in on the scam are identified only by initials .
In one case Goldstein accepted dozens of contributions of $ 8,000 per month between 2010 and 2018 from “ S.W.
, ” who owned a grocery business .
The records say Goldstein kept half and kicked back the balance by regularly hand-delivering cash at the grocer ’ s business .
Other schemes were more complex .
Along with Alex Avergoon , another defendant who pleaded guilty to wire fraud , identity theft and money laundering @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Ponzi scheme , Goldstein defrauded the Federal Emergency Management Agency and the state Office of Emergency Services of nearly $ 250,000 in emergency grants .
To do so Avergoon created a company out of thin air with the perhaps intentionally ironic name , “ Imagination Construction Company.
” Avergoon created false invoices complete with a bogus contractor ’ s license number for carpet removal , HVAC repairs and other work .
Goldstein backdated checks from Chabad accounts to meet reimbursement requirements from the state agency .
The scheme netted about $ 185,000 in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ according to the plea agreement .
Goldstein engaged in another scheme involving a fictitious entity — this time a religious congregation .
Along with an individual identified as “ Z.B.
, ” Goldstein submitted bogus invoices totaling $ 76,750 to be reimbursed by FEMA and Cal OES from a program making grants specifically for upgrades to security .
Goldstein claimed that the upgrades were to be made to something called “ Congregation Bnei Yisroel , ” according to the court records .
That was not a real congregation , but instead Goldstein ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and Z.B.
, the rabbi secured $ 75,000 in government grants in 2017 and 2018 and kept an unspecified portion for himself .
It is unclear from the records if any of the money was spent on security upgrades .
However , the lawyer who filed a lawsuit on behalf of a congregant injured in the attack said there was very little security like gates or locked doors at Chabad of Poway .
Federal agents began to investigate Goldstein in late 2016 in the course of the probe into Avergoon , who collaborated @ @ @ @ @ @ @ frauds and recruited donors for the tax fraud , prosecutors said .
The investigation began to close in on the rabbi in May 2018 , when an undercover FBI agent met with Goldstein at Lake Poway Park and , later , in his office at Chabad of Poway .
The agent posed as someone who wanted to lower his tax liability and launder proceeds from what the agent said was an insurance scam .
Goldstein agreed to both , according to the plea records , taking $ 50,000 and providing documents of a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , while wiring back half to a bank account provided by the undercover agent and keeping the other half .
Then in June he accepted $ 50,000 in cash in five stacks of crisp $ 100 bills at his office , and returned 31 gold coins with a value of about $ 40,000 to the agent .
Four months later , on Oct. 17 , 2018 , agents from the FBI and IRS descended on Chabad of Poway and Goldstein ’ s nearby home .
They told him he was under investigation and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and that the person he met with at Lake Poway and his office was an undercover agent .
Prosecutors said Goldstein agreed to cooperate and is being rewarded for that in his plea deal .
The documents show that soon after the raid he warned others who had engaged in the tax scheme that he was a target of federal investigators .
In one case he warned Yousef Shemirani , 58 , of Poway , who pleaded guilty last week to filing a false tax return and admitted claiming fake donations of $ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from 2011-16 .
Shemirani ’ s plea said Goldstein knocked on his door the night of Oct. 20 , 2018 , and told him about the raid , then warned him the next time they met he might be “ wearing a wire.
” Days later Shemirani tried to sign up for an IRS voluntary disclosure program that allows people to avoid some penalties — if they voluntarily admit erroneous tax reporting .
Another defendant , Bijan Moosazadeh , 63 , of San Diego tried to enter the same program after learning of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ V.R.
” met Goldstein in December 2018 with $ 10,000 he wanted to disguise as a donation under the tax scheme .
Goldstein instead warned him of the investigation and , according to the plea records , told V.R .
he was “ out of business.
” At some point after the raid , Goldstein cooperated with investigators and was actively doing so when the attack on Chabad of Poway occurred — and catapulted Goldstein into the public spotlight .
Since then Chabad has been sued by Almog Peretz , a victim @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The suit contends the synagogue did nothing to improve security despite getting a $ 150,000 grant to upgrade security just before the shooting .
Yoni Weinberger , the lawyer for Peretz , said those accusations now carry more weight because of Goldstein ’ s admissions to diverting grant funds .
“ Money that was supposed to be coming in to help the congregation obviously was not going to help the congregants , ” he said .
Weinberger was also critical that Goldstein will not go to prison .
“ One problem I have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ him , ” he said .
“ He ’ s not going to do jail time and will get probation .
They say that is because of the leadership he displayed in the days following the attack .
To me it ’ s not leadership when you stand in front of congregants you have been stealing from and make them believe you are doing all this for them.
” In a statement Brewer said every sentence had to take into consideration both the seriousness of the crime and the circumstances of the defendant @ @ @ @ @ @ @ post-shooting cooperation and conduct .
“ His work to bring people together in the aftermath of the shooting is part of who he is , ” Brewer said .
“ A fair and just sentence has to account for that , as well as his lifetime of service and his significant cooperation .
We made this decision solely based on the facts and circumstances of this case and this defendant.
” Goldstein ’ s appearances with Trump and Vice President Mike Pence did not weigh in the sentence , according to a Department @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ We have not conferred with the White House about any prosecution decision or outcome in this or any other case , ” the official said .
“ The DOJ in Washington supported our handling of this case.
” Jason Forge , a former federal prosecutor who earned convictions in the Randy “ Duke ” Cunningham case and later in private practice was a key member in a team of lawyers that got a $ 25-million settlement in a lawsuit against Trump University , said it was unlikely Goldstein would go to prison @ @ @ @ @ @ @ white collar crimes get .
Forge said that while defendants are often rewarded for cooperating with prosecutors , he was less convinced that Goldstein should be given so much credit for his actions after the shooting .
Still , he said Brewer should be acknowledged for not dropping the case after the shooting and the notoriety .
“ You have to give Bob Brewer credit , ” Forge said .
“ I guarantee you there are a significant number of U.S. attorneys who would not have the stomach for it.
” Goldstein is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Sources have told the Union-Tribune that the pleas were supposed to take place in the spring , before the coronavirus pandemic ground much court business to a halt .
Indeed , several of the plea agreements from co-defendants were signed in February .

The Clarence S. Brooks Foundation is in a nondescript three-story building on Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles that also has a Wells Fargo bank branch and an urgent care center among its tenants.
From there, the small charitable foundation established in 2004 that had $5.8 million in assets at the end of 2018 makes grants primarily to Jewish educational organizations. The half-dozen or so annual awards run in the mid-to-low six figures each, records of the charity show.
So it probably was not much of a surprise when in 2013 the foundation received an application for a grant from Chabad of Poway and its leader Rabbi Yisroel Goldstein. The grant application said the money would be used to run one of the several programs at the Poway synagogue, helping to pay for rent, remodeling costs and payroll.
The application was a winner. In early 2013 the foundation made a $600,000 grant to Goldstein, distributing the money in four $150,000 installments from February through November. It was one of the largest grants it made that year.
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But the money didn’t go to the synagogue for remodeling, payroll or rent.
Instead, it went to Goldstein. He put some of the money in personal bank accounts and converted much of it to cash after churning the grant funds through several bank accounts he controlled. After the final payment arrived from the foundation, Goldstein handed over the bulk of the money, about $400,000, to another person who had cooked up the scheme with him, and pocketed the balance.
The Brooks Foundation scam is just one of numerous frauds described in detail in court documents related to Goldstein’s shocking plea last week to tax fraud and wire fraud. The 58-year-old rabbi — who gained international notoriety after an April 27, 2019, shooting attack on Chabad of Poway synagogue that killed congregant Lori Gilbert-Kaye and injured three others, including Goldstein — admitted to years of illegal schemes involving taxes, government programs, real estate and public and private grant programs.
The court records illustrate in detail a spectrum of frauds that are staggering in their amount, scope and duration. They also reveal that after federal agents served a search warrant on Goldstein’s offices at Chabad of Poway and at his home in October 2018, the rabbi — now knowing he was under federal scrutiny — tipped off no fewer than five others who had allegedly participated in various schemes over the years.
One of them was an individual identified in the documents only as “M.S.,” who had allegedly participated in the Brooks Foundation fraud with Goldstein and got the lion’s share of the misappropriated funds. In December 2018, five years after divvying up the foundation money and two months after the search, Goldstein warned M.S. about the investigation, the records say.
Goldstein pleaded guilty Tuesday to conspiracy to defraud the government and wire fraud charges. The charges cover a period from 2010-18, but prosecutors said he had been engaged in fraud as far back as the 1980s. The FBI put the total amount of money in play in the scheme at $18 million.
U.S. Atty. Robert Brewer said Tuesday that his office has already decided not to seek a prison term for Goldstein, citing his cooperation with an ongoing investigation that has led to five others pleading guilty and as many as 20 more under investigation, and his conduct in the wake of the attack.
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After the shooting, he called for tolerance, love and forgiveness in numerous appearances and speeches. He was invited to the White House, met President Trump, and hosted Vice President Mike Pence at the Poway synagogue.
At the time, however, he was under investigation by the federal government and had agreed to cooperate with a probe into years, perhaps decades, of serial frauds he allegedly had orchestrated. That information became public for the first time Tuesday.
No one from the Brooks Foundation responded to several requests for an interview last week. Neither Goldstein nor his lawyers have responded to numerous requests for comment over the last year from the San Diego Union-Tribune, and they declined to comment after his guilty plea.
Citing exhaustion, Goldstein retired from Chabad of Poway, which he founded in 1986, in November.
But the court records show that he signed the plea agreement that same month. And the world headquarters of Chabad in New York said it learned of his crimes late last year and forced him out.
The court records describe a long-running tax evasion scheme that Brewer called the “90-10 fraud” at a news conference after the guilty plea Tuesday. It involved donors writing large checks to Chabad as “donations” to the tax-exempt organization, and in return getting a receipt on Chabad letterhead that they could use to claim a large tax deduction.
They also got 90% of their money back secretly. Goldstein kept 10%, according to prosecutors and the plea documents he signed.
In the court records, donors in on the scam are identified only by initials. In one case, Goldstein accepted dozens of contributions of $8,000 per month between 2010 and 2018 from “S.W.,” who owned a grocery business. The records say Goldstein kept half and kicked back the balance by regularly hand-delivering cash at the grocer’s business.
Other schemes were more complex. Along with Alex Avergoon, another defendant who pleaded guilty to wire fraud, identity theft and money laundering in connection with a separate real estate Ponzi scheme, Goldstein defrauded the Federal Emergency Management Agency and the state Office of Emergency Services of nearly $250,000 in emergency grants.
To do so Avergoon created a company out of thin air with the perhaps intentionally ironic name “Imagination Construction Co.” Avergoon created false invoices complete with a bogus contractor’s license number for carpet removal, HVAC repairs and other work. Goldstein backdated checks from Chabad accounts to meet reimbursement requirements from the state agency.
The scheme netted about $185,000 in 2011 and $75,000 in 2012, according to the plea agreement.
Goldstein engaged in another scheme involving a fictitious entity — this time a religious congregation.
Along with an individual identified as “Z.B.,” Goldstein submitted bogus invoices totaling $76,750 to be reimbursed by FEMA and Cal OES from a program making grants specifically for upgrades to security.
Goldstein claimed that the upgrades were to be made to something called “Congregation Bnei Yisroel,” according to the court records. That was not a real congregation, but instead Goldstein’s own residence. Working with Avergoon and Z.B., the rabbi secured $75,000 in government grants in 2017 and 2018 and kept an unspecified portion for himself.
It is unclear from the records if any of the money was spent on security upgrades. However, the lawyer who filed a lawsuit on behalf of a congregant injured in the attack said there was very little security such as gates or locked doors at Chabad of Poway.
Federal agents began to investigate Goldstein in late 2016 in the course of the probe into Avergoon, who collaborated with Goldstein on some of the grant frauds and recruited donors for the tax fraud, prosecutors said. The investigation began to close in on the rabbi in May 2018, when an undercover FBI agent met with Goldstein at Lake Poway Park and, later, in his office at Chabad of Poway. The agent posed as someone who wanted to lower his tax liability and launder proceeds from what the agent said was an insurance scam.
Goldstein agreed to both, according to the plea records, taking $50,000 and providing documents of a donation of that size to the synagogue, while wiring back half to a bank account provided by the undercover agent and keeping the other half. Then in June he accepted $50,000 in cash in five stacks of crisp $100 bills at his office, and returned 31 gold coins with a value of about $40,000 to the agent.
Four months later, on Oct. 17, 2018, agents from the FBI and Internal Revenue Service descended on Chabad of Poway and Goldstein’s nearby home. They told him he was under investigation and had been for nearly two years, and that the person he met with at Lake Poway and his office was an undercover agent.
Prosecutors said Goldstein agreed to cooperate and is being rewarded for that in his plea deal. The documents show that soon after the raid he warned others who had engaged in the tax scheme that he was a target of federal investigators.
In one case, he warned Yousef Shemirani, 58, of Poway, who pleaded guilty last week to filing a false tax return and admitted claiming fake donations of $137,650 to Goldstein and Chabad of Poway from 2011-16.
Shemirani’s plea said Goldstein knocked on his door the night of Oct. 20, 2018, and told him about the raid, then warned him the next time they met he might be “wearing a wire.” Days later Shemirani tried to sign up for an IRS voluntary disclosure program that allows people to avoid some penalties — if they voluntarily admit erroneous tax reporting.
Another defendant, Bijan Moosazadeh, 63, of San Diego, tried to enter the same program after learning of the investigation. Another individual identified as “V.R.” met Goldstein in December 2018 with $10,000 he wanted to disguise as a donation under the tax scheme. Goldstein instead warned him of the investigation and, according to the plea records, told V.R. he was “out of business.”
At some point after the raid, Goldstein cooperated with investigators and was actively doing so when the attack on Chabad of Poway occurred — and catapulted Goldstein into the public spotlight.
Since then Chabad has been sued by Almog Peretz, a victim who was wounded in the attack. The suit contends the synagogue did nothing to improve security despite getting a $150,000 grant to upgrade security just before the shooting.
Yoni Weinberg, the lawyer for Peretz, said those accusations now carry more weight because of Goldstein’s admissions to diverting grant funds. “Money that was supposed to be coming in to help the congregation obviously was not going to help the congregants,” he said.
Weinberg was also critical that Goldstein will not go to prison.
“One problem I have is they are taking it easy on him,” he said. “He’s not going to do jail time and will get probation. They say that is because of the leadership he displayed in the days following the attack. To me, it’s not leadership when you stand in front of congregants you have been stealing from and make them believe you are doing all this for them.”
In a statement, Brewer said every sentence had to take into consideration both the seriousness of the crime and the circumstances of the defendant. He again noted Goldstein’s post-shooting cooperation and conduct.
“His work to bring people together in the aftermath of the shooting is part of who he is,” Brewer said. “A fair and just sentence has to account for that, as well as his lifetime of service and his significant cooperation. We made this decision solely based on the facts and circumstances of this case and this defendant.”
Goldstein’s appearances with Trump and Pence did not weigh in the sentence, according to a Department of Justice official in San Diego. “We have not conferred with the White House about any prosecution decision or outcome in this or any other case,” the official said. “The DOJ in Washington supported our handling of this case.”
Jason Forge, a former federal prosecutor who earned convictions in the Randy “Duke” Cunningham case and later in private practice was a key member in a team of lawyers that got a $25-million settlement in a lawsuit against Trump University, said it was unlikely Goldstein would go to prison given his age and the lighter treatment white-collar crimes get.
Forge said that while defendants are often rewarded for cooperating with prosecutors, he was less convinced that Goldstein should be given so much credit for his actions after the shooting. Still, he said Brewer should be acknowledged for not dropping the case after the shooting and the notoriety.
“You have to give Bob Brewer credit,” Forge said. “I guarantee you there are a significant number of U.S. attorneys who would not have the stomach for it.”
Goldstein is set to be sentenced in October.
Sources have told the San Diego Union-Tribune that the pleas were supposed to take place in the spring, before the coronavirus outbreak ground much court business to a halt. Indeed, several of the plea agreements from co-defendants were signed in February.
Moran writes for the San Diego Union-Tribune.


latimes--2020-07-19--Garcetti says economy reopened too quickly, warns of new stay-at-home order

Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti on Sunday said L.A. opened too quickly and again warned that the city was close to imposing some type of new stay-at-home order as coronavirus cases continued to spike .
Speaking on CNN , Garcetti was asked about a Los Angeles Times editorial that criticized the rapid reopening of California , which was followed by a major surge in both new COVID-19 cases and hospitalizations .
“ I think a lot of people don ’ t understand , mayors often have no control what opens up and doesn ’ t — that ’ s either @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” Garcetti said .
“ And I do agree that those things happened too quickly.
” Despite his comments , local leaders like Garcetti are permitted to issue closure and stay-at-home restrictions that are stricter than those issued by the county or state , just not rules that are more lenient , officials have said .
The mayor has previously suggested that he will be in charge of deciding when the city should reopen .
“ Our timing on opening may vary from other parts of the state , ” Garcetti said in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ our city with careful consideration , guided by public health professionals.
” Garcetti also said Sunday that the city was “ on the brink ” of new restrictions but did not elaborate .
The mayor has made the comment before over the last two weeks , saying the city would act if cases continued to rise — even after a series of restrictions imposed by the state this month that included a ban on indoor restaurant dining , and the closing of bars , malls and other retailers in L.A. County and many @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , saying it will take up to three weeks to learn whether the closures have helped slow the spread of the coronavirus .
He also struck an optimistic note , saying L.A. remains in a good place when it comes to hospital capacity and the available supply of ventilators .
“ Cases have gone up , but we also have the most aggressive testing , ” he said .
“ We ’ re the first city to offer testing to people without symptoms .
And 30 % of what we ’ re catching @ @ @ @ @ @ @ L.A. County reported a record-high number of COVID-19 patients in its hospitals this week , and the overall share of tests that have come back positive has risen from 8 % to just under 10 % , suggesting that there has also been an increase in community transmission .
Garcetti , in addition to citing decisions made by county and state authorities , also took aim at the White House : “ We have seen no national leadership , ” he said .
The mayor attributed the increase in the spread of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but also to people becoming less vigilant about following public health guidance and gathering with others outside their households .
“ It ’ s not just what ’ s open and closed , ” he said .
“ It ’ s also about what we do individually.
” Rather than have the city be subject to another broad closure , Garcetti suggested he ’ d prefer to take more targeted interventions aimed at helping those who were most vulnerable to suffering serious illness or death from contracting the coronavirus .
He said that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ residents are no longer dying at a rate disproportionate to their share of the population , but officials are now seeing higher rates of deaths among Latino people and low-income workers .
“ So I want to be more surgical , ” he said .
“ I want to go into those factories where we ’ re seeing spread .
I want to go into those communities , especially our lower-income communities .
...
I think we have to be surgical rather than a cleaver that would just shut everything down .
”

Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti on Sunday said L.A. opened too quickly and again warned that the city was close to imposing some type of new stay-at-home order as coronavirus cases continued to spike.
Speaking on CNN, Garcetti was asked about a Los Angeles Times editorial that criticized the rapid reopening of California, which was followed by a major surge in both new COVID-19 cases and hospitalizations.
“I think a lot of people don’t understand, mayors often have no control what opens up and doesn’t — that’s either at a state or county level,” Garcetti said. “And I do agree that those things happened too quickly.”
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Despite his comments, local leaders like Garcetti are permitted to issue closure and stay-at-home restrictions that are stricter than those issued by the county or state, just not rules that are more lenient, officials have said.
The mayor has previously suggested that he will be in charge of deciding when the city should reopen.
“Our timing on opening may vary from other parts of the state,” Garcetti said in early May. “I will reopen our city with careful consideration, guided by public health professionals.”
Garcetti also said Sunday that the city was “on the brink” of new restrictions but did not elaborate. The mayor has made the comment before over the last two weeks, saying the city would act if cases continued to rise — even after a series of restrictions imposed by the state this month that included a ban on indoor restaurant dining, and the closing of bars, malls and other retailers in L.A. County and many other counties.
The mayor urged patience, saying it will take up to three weeks to learn whether the closures have helped slow the spread of the coronavirus.
He also struck an optimistic note, saying L.A. remains in a good place when it comes to hospital capacity and the available supply of ventilators.
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“Cases have gone up, but we also have the most aggressive testing,” he said. “We’re the first city to offer testing to people without symptoms. And 30% of what we’re catching thankfully is those folks.”
Still, L.A. County reported a record-high number of COVID-19 patients in its hospitals this week, and the overall share of tests that have come back positive has risen from 8% to just under 10%, suggesting that there has also been an increase in community transmission.
Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti says that they are on the “brink” of issuing another stay-at-home order as coronavirus cases increase in the city #CNNSOTU pic.twitter.com/3Ppgv98946 — State of the Union (@CNNSotu) July 19, 2020
Garcetti, in addition to citing decisions made by county and state authorities, also took aim at the White House: “We have seen no national leadership,” he said.
The mayor attributed the increase in the spread of the coronavirus not just to the reopenings, but also to people becoming less vigilant about following public health guidance and gathering with others outside their households.
“It’s not just what’s open and closed,” he said. “It’s also about what we do individually.”
Rather than have the city be subject to another broad closure, Garcetti suggested he’d prefer to take more targeted interventions aimed at helping those who were most vulnerable to suffering serious illness or death from contracting the coronavirus.
He said that outside of skilled nursing facilities, Black residents are no longer dying at a rate disproportionate to their share of the population, but officials are now seeing higher rates of deaths among Latino people and low-income workers.
“So I want to be more surgical,” he said. “I want to go into those factories where we’re seeing spread. I want to go into those communities, especially our lower-income communities. ... I think we have to be surgical rather than a cleaver that would just shut everything down.”


latimes--2020-07-19--15 L.A. County children sickened by rare coronavirus-related inflammatory syndrome

A rare but serious and potentially deadly inflammatory syndrome believed to be associated with the coronavirus has now been identified in 15 children in Los Angeles County , officials said .
Of the children , 73 % were Latino , representing a disproportionate burden for the ethnic group .
Latino residents are the largest ethnic group in L.A. County , making up about half of the county ’ s residents .
Nationally , about 70 % of the cases of the inflammatory syndrome have been either Latino or Black patients .
Multi-system inflammatory syndrome in children , or MIS-C , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to become inflamed , according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention , such as the heart , lungs , kidneys , brain , skin , eyes or gastrointestinal organs .
Symptoms include fever , pain in the abdomen , vomiting , diarrhea , neck pain , rash , bloodshot eyes and exhaustion .
The syndrome has also been called pediatric inflammatory multisystem syndrome , or PIMS .
Most of the children developed MIS-C about two to four weeks after being infected with the coronavirus that causes COVID-19 , the CDC @ @ @ @ @ @ @ why some children develop it after a COVID-19 illness or contact with someone with COVID-19 , while others do not , ” the agency said .
No one who has experienced the syndrome has died in L.A. County .
But the syndrome is potentially deadly .
As of July 15 , the CDC received reports of 342 cases and six deaths related to the inflammatory syndrome .
Of them , at least 99 cases and two deaths were in New York state , according to the New England Journal of Medicine .
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ children 12 or younger , the medical journal said , who were admitted to the hospital with abdominal pain and fever , a high heart rate and low blood pressure .
In L.A. County , the median age of those experiencing the syndrome was 8½ years old .
County officials said 40 % were 5 or younger ; another 40 % were between 6 and 12 ; and the remaining 20 % were between 13 and 20 .

A test kit is passed through the car window at the Anaheim Convention Center on July 11.
A rare but serious and potentially deadly inflammatory syndrome believed to be associated with the coronavirus has now been identified in 15 children in Los Angeles County, officials said.
Of the children, 73% were Latino, representing a disproportionate burden for the ethnic group. Latino residents are the largest ethnic group in L.A. County, making up about half of the county’s residents. Nationally, about 70% of the cases of the inflammatory syndrome have been either Latino or Black patients.
Multi-system inflammatory syndrome in children, or MIS-C, can cause different parts of the body to become inflamed, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, such as the heart, lungs, kidneys, brain, skin, eyes or gastrointestinal organs. Symptoms include fever, pain in the abdomen, vomiting, diarrhea, neck pain, rash, bloodshot eyes and exhaustion.
The syndrome has also been called pediatric inflammatory multisystem syndrome, or PIMS.
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Most of the children developed MIS-C about two to four weeks after being infected with the coronavirus that causes COVID-19, the CDC says. “Many questions remain about why some children develop it after a COVID-19 illness or contact with someone with COVID-19, while others do not,” the agency said.
No one who has experienced the syndrome has died in L.A. County. But the syndrome is potentially deadly. As of July 15, the CDC received reports of 342 cases and six deaths related to the inflammatory syndrome. Of them, at least 99 cases and two deaths were in New York state, according to the New England Journal of Medicine.
The two deaths in New York state involved children 12 or younger, the medical journal said, who were admitted to the hospital with abdominal pain and fever, a high heart rate and low blood pressure.
In L.A. County, the median age of those experiencing the syndrome was 8½ years old. County officials said 40% were 5 or younger ; another 40% were between 6 and 12; and the remaining 20% were between 13 and 20.


latimes--2020-07-19--'I was naive to think this couldn't touch my family': Pacific Islanders hit hard by the coronavirus

It was still early in California ’ s coronavirus outbreak when Lina Ili started feeling the symptoms that would soon turn her family ’ s life upside down .
Coughing and running a fever , she holed up inside the bedroom of her Long Beach home for weeks .
But breathing grew increasingly difficult , Ili , 46 , said .
“ You couldn ’ t even lie down because it felt like a heaviness on your chest.
” On April 5 , her husband , Aoga Ili Jr. , decided it was time to take her to the hospital @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The next day , her 22-year-old son , Taylor , was hospitalized .
A few days later , her husband was too .
In a matter of days , three of the five members of their household were put in the intensive care unit .
Lina had it worst and spent four days on a ventilator .
“ I wouldn ’ t wish it upon my worst enemy , ” she said .
“ Just as simple a thing as to breathe , I don ’ t take it for granted anymore.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ from Samoa more than 40 years ago , are among nearly 1,400 Californians with ancestry in Hawaii , Samoa , Fiji , Tonga and other Pacific islands who have been infected with the coronavirus , which is sickening and killing members of the small but close-knit community in disproportionate numbers .
In L.A. County , Pacific Islanders suffer the highest infection rate of any racial or ethnic group , more than 2,500 per 100,000 residents .
That ’ s six times higher than for white people , five times higher than for Black @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Latinos , according to county health demographic data that exclude Long Beach and Pasadena , which have their own health departments .
Health experts say the reasons are similar to why Black people and Latinos are falling ill and dying at higher rates : reduced access to healthcare ; higher levels of poverty ; crowded housing ; multigenerational households that make it more difficult to physically distance or quarantine ; and higher rates of underlying health conditions that increase risk for severe illness from COVID-19 , such as heart and lung disease , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also work in frontline jobs , such as food service , hospitality and healthcare , where they are more likely to contract the virus and bring it home .
But community leaders say there are other factors that are unique to the culture of Pacific Islanders , and they say that public health officials have failed to adequately address them .
Among these factors are cultural traditions that center on large family gatherings , in-person church services , funerals and birthday celebrations that , in some cases , have continued despite orders to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Pacific Islander community say also that a cultural stigma associated with a positive diagnosis may be facilitating the spread of the virus .
“ The shame factor of it is real , ” said Dr. Raynald Samoa , an endocrinologist at City of Hope in Duarte who battled COVID-19 himself .
“ People are not getting their families tested .
They ’ re not speaking out , they ’ re not getting identified because they ’ re afraid that they ’ re going to have to stay home from work or that it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ family.
” Samoa has helped raise awareness by speaking about his experience in Facebook videos and other appearances and urging Pacific Islanders to take the virus seriously and heed health guidelines .
Samoa faulted health officials for taking no proactive measures to reduce rates of transmission and infection in Pacific Islander communities .
“ I wish there were things in place , but there was nothing , ” Samoa said .
That left it to Pacific Islander groups to assemble their own COVID-19 response team , devise their own strategy and messaging based @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as diabetes and cancer , and push the county to use it .
California is home to nearly 317,000 Pacific Islanders , and more than 55,000 of them reside in Los Angeles County , according to census data that include people who identify as multiracial , which is common in the community .
Statewide , Pacific Islanders have experienced infections and deaths at higher rates than most other groups , but the disparities aren ’ t as pronounced as they are in L.A. County .
Their statewide infection rate is three times higher @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 20 % higher than Latinos ’ infection rate , while their death rate is nearly 60 % higher than that of white people but lower than that of Black residents .
Although numbers remain small overall — California has reported 35 deaths and 1,389 confirmed cases among Pacific Islanders as of July 15 — they reveal an outsize toll on a community that already experiences higher rates of underlying health conditions .
Sixteen Pacific Islander residents in L.A. County have died , for a rate of 83 per 100,000 people — twice as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Health officials say they are not surprised by the high rates of illness .
“ Sadly , these disparities are consistent with other health disparities we see and reflect deeply rooted and pervasive inequities in our society that are in part fueled by racism , xenophobia , and a lack of opportunities and resources to support optimal health , ” Natalie Jimenez , a spokeswoman for the L.A. County Department of Public Health , said in an email .
The county Health Department has examined statistics on Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders @ @ @ @ @ @ @ epidemic ” but did not initially report them to protect confidentiality “ due to the low numbers of reported cases and deaths , ” Jimenez said .
Local health officials began releasing data on infections and deaths among Pacific Islanders at the urging of community groups who saw a lack of targeted response .
Pacific Islander leaders began pushing officials , county by county , to release data on their community rather than lumping them together with Asians .
In L.A. County , health officials began publishing those numbers in late April , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it in a Zoom meeting .
Jimenez , the department spokeswoman , said “ the reason we began publishing the disaggregated data was that , based on the community ’ s input and the unprecedented threat posed by the COVID epidemic , we felt that the benefits outweighed the risks of posting the statistics.
” Those statistics have been crucial for getting people in the community to take the threat seriously , said ‘ Alisi Tulua , a program manager with the Orange County Asian and Pacific Islander Community Alliance , which pushed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ve been using the data as our biggest , most convincing talking point.
” With the partial reopening and recent surge in cases , however , community groups and faith leaders fear they ’ ll only see the trend compounded as waves of the virus spread through their families and churches .
“ Our community is back to work and more exposed .
So it ’ s going to be twice as hard to quarantine and try to get tested , ” Tulua said .
“ While it ’ s flattening for other @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in our community .
If we bring it home , maybe we ’ re OK , but our parents will suffer .
And if we ’ re not careful , we ’ re going to kill off a whole generation of our people.
” Jimenez said the L.A. County Health Department has been working with Pacific Islander groups for a few months to create “ culturally relevant and sensitive materials ” that resonate with the community .
That includes “ tailored outreach ” with educational graphics that will be shared on social media @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and Marshallese languages , public service announcement videos featuring Tongan , Samoan and Chamorro community leaders and photos of Pacific Islander families wearing masks .
Those materials are being distributed to community leaders , she said .
Because health officials had not yet released data on Pacific Islanders , the Ilis didn ’ t know their community was seeing higher rates of coronavirus infection when they started getting sick .
The oldest son , Pele Ili , 26 , quickly became the only healthy adult in his household , and suddenly found himself @ @ @ @ @ @ @ tending to his sick parents and brother while trying to protect his 12-year-old brother , Solo , from falling ill too .
On Easter Sunday , Pele , a service manager at a payroll company who also blogs , posted about his family ’ s experience on Instagram in an effort to get others to take the stay-at-home orders seriously .
“ I was naive to think this couldn ’ t touch my family .
I was ignorant to think that me feeling healthy meant that I was okay to attend a few @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my house was compromised , ” Pele wrote on April 12 .
“ ...
This could happen anywhere , anytime , and to anyone whenever you ’ re not home .
No one is above this.
” Being outspoken was important to combat the stigma , Pele later said .
“ Pacific Islanders have this sense of pride , where they can take care of themselves and they want to keep everything in house , you know , just to not draw as much attention on our family.
” He documented his family @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and posting it to YouTube , and now looks back on it as one of the most overwhelming and emotional times of his life .
“ There were times where I didn ’ t know if they were ever gon na come back out , ” he said .
“ They could barely talk .
And I think the hardest part was just not knowing what was going to happen.
” Dr. Samoa and other leaders worry that , in addition to being exposed to the virus at the workplace , people are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are the heart of many Pacific Islander communities .
Although some have taken health precautions , others have seemingly ignored them , including one church that held an in-person fundraiser last month that was also streamed online , Samoa said .
“ I didn ’ t see a mask in that place , and the social distancing was minimal .
“ Churches are where people congregate ; it ’ s the village center , ” Samoa said .
“ So if the village leadership is not promoting safe behaviors , then the community @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , pastor of First United Methodist Church of Bellflower , a multiethnic congregation of about 100 people that is majority Tongan , has been playing it safe , livestreaming Sunday services since stay-at-home orders were issued in March .
Although people are eager to return , they are also fearful , he said .
“ People ’ s faith really holds them up at this time .
So even though they really want to come back to church , we remind them to be patient.
” For the Ilis , the sudden suspension @ @ @ @ @ @ @ isolating .
They had to halt their weekly attendance at St. Cornelius Church and the meals they shared with extended family afterward in favor of a livestreamed Mass .
Yet they ’ ve adopted new traditions to stay connected , like a 5:30 p.m. Zoom prayer hour with out-of-state family members .
“ We ’ re learning to be creative , ” Pele said .
Lina Ili , now recovered , to this day doesn ’ t know where she contracted the virus but is still dealing with the stigma .
“ People @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the same area as us , ” she said .
But , at this point , she said she only regretted trying to fight off the illness at home for too long .
She , like her oldest son , now speaks at webinars urging other Pacific Islanders who may be feeling symptoms to get tested and seek medical help .
“ The hardest part for our culture is admitting you need help , ” Lina said .
“ You could be helping someone else , or saving a life .
”

The Ili family poses outside their Long Beach condo. From left are Taylor, 22; Aoga, 46; Lina, 46; and Pele, 26. Taylor, Aoga and Lina were all hospitalized with the coronavirus in a matter of days.
It was still early in California’s coronavirus outbreak when Lina Ili started feeling the symptoms that would soon turn her family’s life upside down.
Coughing and running a fever, she holed up inside the bedroom of her Long Beach home for weeks. But breathing grew increasingly difficult, Ili, 46, said. “You couldn’t even lie down because it felt like a heaviness on your chest.”
On April 5, her husband, Aoga Ili Jr., decided it was time to take her to a hospital, where she tested positive for COVID-19.
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The next day, her 22-year-old son, Taylor, was hospitalized. A few days later, her husband was too. In a matter of days, three of the five members of their household were put in the intensive care unit. Lina had it worst and spent four days on a ventilator.
“I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy,” she said. “Just as simple a thing as to breathe, I don’t take it for granted anymore.”
The Ilis, whose parents came from Samoa more than 40 years ago, are among nearly 1,400 Californians with ancestry in Hawaii, Samoa, Fiji, Tonga and other Pacific islands who have been infected with the coronavirus, which is sickening and killing members of the small but close-knit community in disproportionate numbers.
In L.A. County, Pacific Islanders suffer the highest infection rate of any racial or ethnic group, more than 2,500 per 100,000 residents. That’s six times higher than for white people, five times higher than for Black people and three times higher than for Latinos, according to county health demographic data that exclude Long Beach and Pasadena, which have their own health departments.
Health experts say the reasons are similar to why Black people and Latinos are falling ill and dying at higher rates: reduced access to healthcare; higher levels of poverty; crowded housing; multigenerational households that make it more difficult to physically distance or quarantine; and higher rates of underlying health conditions that increase risk for severe illness from COVID-19, such as heart and lung disease, asthma and diabetes. Many Pacific Islanders also work in front-line jobs, such as food service, hospitality and healthcare, at which they are more likely to contract the virus and bring it home.
But community leaders say there are other factors that are unique to the culture of Pacific Islanders, and they say that public health officials have failed to adequately address them.
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Among these factors are cultural traditions that center on large family gatherings, in-person church services, funerals and birthday celebrations that, in some cases, have continued despite orders to maintain social distance. Leaders in the Pacific Islander community say also that a cultural stigma associated with a positive diagnosis may be facilitating the spread of the virus.
“The shame factor of it is real,” said Dr. Raynald Samoa, an endocrinologist at City of Hope in Duarte who battled COVID-19 himself. “People are not getting their families tested. They’re not speaking out, they’re not getting identified because they’re afraid that they’re going to have to stay home from work or that it’s going to negatively impact their family.”
Samoa has helped raise awareness by speaking about his experience in Facebook videos and other appearances and urging Pacific Islanders to take the virus seriously and heed health guidelines.
Samoa faulted health officials for taking no proactive measures to reduce rates of transmission and infection in Pacific Islander communities.
“I wish there were things in place, but there was nothing,” Samoa said. That left it to Pacific Islander groups to assemble their own COVID-19 response team, devise their own strategy and messaging based on past work with chronic diseases such as diabetes and cancer, and push the county to use it.
California is home to nearly 317,000 Pacific Islanders, and more than 55,000 of them reside in Los Angeles County, according to census data that include people who identify as multiracial, which is common in the community.
Statewide, Pacific Islanders have experienced infections and deaths at higher rates than most other groups, but the disparities aren’t as pronounced as they are in L.A. County. Their statewide infection rate is three times higher than that of white Californians, and 20% higher than Latinos’ infection rate, while their death rate is nearly 60% higher than that of white people but lower than that of Black residents.
Although numbers remain small overall — California has reported 35 deaths and 1,389 confirmed cases among Pacific Islanders as of July 15 — they reveal an outsize toll on a community that already experiences higher rates of underlying health conditions. Sixteen Pacific Islander residents in L.A. County have died, for a rate of 83 per 100,000 people — twice as high as white and Latino county residents.
Health officials say they are not surprised by the high rates of illness.
“Sadly, these disparities are consistent with other health disparities we see and reflect deeply rooted and pervasive inequities in our society that are in part fueled by racism, xenophobia, and a lack of opportunities and resources to support optimal health,” Natalie Jimenez, a spokeswoman for the L.A. County Department of Public Health, said in an email.
The county health department has examined statistics on Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders “from the beginning of the COVID epidemic” but did not initially report them to protect confidentiality “due to the low numbers of reported cases and deaths,” Jimenez said.
Local health officials began releasing data on infections and deaths among Pacific Islanders at the urging of community groups that saw a lack of targeted response. Pacific Islander leaders began pushing officials, county by county, to release data on their community rather than lump them together with Asians.
In L.A. County, health officials began publishing those numbers in late April, two days after Pacific Islander groups requested them in a Zoom meeting.
Jimenez said that “the reason we began publishing the disaggregated data was that, based on the community’s input and the unprecedented threat posed by the COVID epidemic, we felt that the benefits outweighed the risks of posting the statistics.”
Those statistics have been crucial for getting people in the community to take the threat seriously, said ‘Alisi Tulua, a program manager with the Orange County Asian and Pacific Islander Community Alliance, which pushed for their release. “We’ve been using the data as our biggest, most convincing talking point.”
With the partial reopening and recent surge in cases, however, community groups and faith leaders fear they’ll only see the trend compounded as waves of the virus spread through their families and churches.
“Our community is back to work and more exposed. So it’s going to be twice as hard to quarantine and try to get tested,” Tulua said. “While it’s flattening for other people, it’s still climbing in our community. If we bring it home, maybe we’re OK, but our parents will suffer. And if we’re not careful, we’re going to kill off a whole generation of our people.”
Pastor Kitione Tuitupou, left, livestreams services from inside First United Methodist Church of Bellflower, whose congregation of about 100 is majority Tongan. (Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
Jimenez said the L.A. County health department has been working with Pacific Islander groups for a few months to create “culturally relevant and sensitive materials” that resonate with the community. That includes “tailored outreach” with educational graphics that will be shared on social media in the Tongan, Samoan, Chamorro and Marshallese languages, public service announcement videos featuring Tongan, Samoan and Chamorro community leaders and photos of Pacific Islander families wearing masks. Those materials are being distributed to community leaders, she said.
Because health officials had not yet released data on Pacific Islanders, the Ilis didn’t know their community was seeing higher rates of coronavirus infection when they started getting sick.
The oldest son, Pele Ili, 26, quickly became the only healthy adult in his household, and suddenly found himself the caretaker for his whole family, tending to his sick parents and brother while trying to protect his 12-year-old brother, Solo, from falling ill too.
On Easter Sunday, Pele, a service manager at a payroll company who also blogs, posted about his family’s experience on Instagram in an effort to get others to take the stay-at-home orders seriously.
“I was naive to think this couldn’t touch my family. I was ignorant to think that me feeling healthy meant that I was okay to attend a few small gatherings but little did I know my house was compromised,” Pele wrote on April 12. “... This could happen anywhere, anytime, and to anyone whenever you’re not home. No one is above this.”
Being outspoken was important to combat the stigma, Pele later said. “Pacific Islanders have this sense of pride, where they can take care of themselves and they want to keep everything in house, you know, just to not draw as much attention on our family.”
He documented his family’s ordeal, shooting extensive video and posting it on YouTube, and now looks back on it as one of the most overwhelming and emotional times of his life.
“There were times where I didn’t know if they were ever gonna come back out,” he said. “They could barely talk. And I think the hardest part was just not knowing what was going to happen.”
Dr. Samoa and other leaders worry that, in addition to being exposed to the virus at the workplace, people are being exposed to COVID-19 at churches that are the heart of many Pacific Islander communities.
Although some have taken health precautions, others have seemingly ignored them, including one church that held an in-person fundraiser last month that was also streamed online, Samoa said. “I didn’t see a mask in that place, and the social distancing was minimal.
“Churches are where people congregate; it’s the village center,” Samoa said. “So if the village leadership is not promoting safe behaviors, then the community suffers.”
Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, First United Methodist Church of Bellflower Pastor Kitione Tuitupou now livestreams Sunday services. (Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
The Rev. Kitione Tuitupou, pastor of First United Methodist Church of Bellflower, a multiethnic congregation of about 100 people that is majority Tongan, has been playing it safe, livestreaming Sunday services since stay-at-home orders were issued in March.
Although people are eager to return, they are also fearful, he said. “People’s faith really holds them up at this time. So even though they really want to come back to church, we remind them to be patient.”
For the Ilis, the sudden suspension of in-person gatherings has been difficult and isolating.
They had to halt their weekly attendance at St. Cornelius Church and the meals they shared with extended family afterward in favor of a livestreamed Mass. Yet they’ve adopted new traditions to stay connected, like a 5:30 p.m. Zoom prayer hour with out-of-state family members.
“We’re learning to be creative,” Pele said.
Lina Ili, now recovered, to this day doesn’t know where she contracted the virus but is still dealing with the stigma.
“People are still kind of afraid to be in the same area as us,” she said. But, at this point, she said she only regretted trying to fight off the illness at home for too long.
She, like her oldest son, now speaks at webinars urging other Pacific Islanders who may be feeling symptoms to get tested and seek medical help.
“The hardest part for our culture is admitting you need help,” Lina said. “You could be helping someone else, or saving a life.”


latimes--2020-07-19--Antiracism as government policy? County supervisors will decide soon

The antiracism movement in Los Angeles County is moving from protest marches to the halls of power .
On Tuesday , the L.A. County Board of Supervisors is slated to begin debate over a proposal aimed at strengthening county efforts to address racial inequality .
Introduced by the county ’ s lone Black supervisor , Mark Ridley-Thomas , and inspired by the protests over the Minneapolis police killing of George Floyd , the measure would attempt to shape the county bureaucracy around potentially holding county officials accountable if they fail to uphold more aggressive antiracist policies .
If passed , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ county in the country since last year to declare racism a matter of public health , according to the National Assn .
of Counties .
“ I ’ m hoping this will cause people to be more serious about the very demeaning and disenfranchising effects of institutionalized racism and its intergenerational impacts , ” Ridley-Thomas said in an interview with The Times .
A term that only recently exploded into the public consciousness , especially among white people , antiracism is defined by Ridley-Thomas with a reference to Ibram X. Kendi ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an Antiracist ” : “ Any measure that produces or sustains racial equity between racial groups.
” Applying that definition to public policy will be up for debate in coming weeks .
The proposal would create an antiracist framework within the vast bureaucracy of the nation ’ s most populous county , from healthcare to law enforcement , to ensure that all policies address inequities faced by Black residents .
Department heads would be evaluated on their efforts to meet at least one goal of the antiracist policy agenda .
The county would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ report on the state of Black people in the county , written by a university or research institute .
The measure is likely to stir some skepticism that it doesn ’ t go far enough .
It does not specifically mention defunding any law enforcement entity , which is of overriding importance to some activists .
Other activists question any measure that doesn ’ t come with significant funding .
Earl Ofari Hutchinson , an author , political analyst and longtime L.A. civil rights activist , says he would be skeptical of any @ @ @ @ @ @ @ short on dollars .
“ If the supervisors really mean business about dismantling systemic racism , ” he said , “ they will set up a broad-based racial truth and reconciliation commission of Black community leaders and activists tasked with not just spotting the areas of attack against systemic racism but also with the power to allocate resources , write policies , and overhaul all county structures that perpetuate systemic racism.
” .
The measure could be greeted with some confusion , based on the experience in Milwaukee County , which is believed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ racism a public health issue .
“ Everybody was like , ‘ Oh , good — what does this mean ?
’ ” Milwaukee County Executive David Crowley said .
Crowley , the first Black person elected to his position , said the declaration , enacted last spring , led the county to include addressing racism in its strategic plan , and implement a racial equity budgeting tool that every department head will use when putting together their 2021 budgets .
Although the city of Milwaukee , where much of the state ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to embrace the county ’ s directive last year , the surrounding suburbs , which are predominantly white , realized action was needed only after Floyd ’ s killing and the protests that followed .
“ It has forced some people to wake up and say , ‘ You know what ?
We need to tackle these issues , even though we may not have a huge population of people of color , ’ ” Crowley said of the suburbs .
“ When you think about this whole region , Milwaukee County needs @ @ @ @ @ @ @ build back better post-pandemic.
” In Los Angeles County , whose leaders regularly celebrate the region ’ s diversity and progressive politics , carrying out the public health declaration will need to be intentional and thoughtful , experts and activists say .
“ When I first moved to L.A. , I recall white colleagues clarifying my own experience of L.A. by telling me , basically it ’ s not racist , that in fact the South where I had come from was more racist , and that in L.A. , for a variety @ @ @ @ @ @ @ superficial — ‘ We have great food from diverse communities !
’ — therefore we ’ re not racist , ” said Chandra Ford , founding director of the Center for the Study of Racism , Social Justice & Health at UCLA .
Ford said L.A. County ’ s antiracist policy agenda must address the specific ways that racism operates “ in a so-called liberal context ” that , for example , loves Black culture but not Black people .
“ Someone may say they ’ ve read about racism , they ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ experiences of people who have actually lived it don ’ t matter quite as much , that they can speak on behalf of people who have lived racism , ” Ford said .
In recent weeks , activists with Black Lives Matter and other organizations in the JusticeLA Coalition have called for the Board of Supervisors to defund the L.A. County Sheriff ’ s Department and move that money into financing mental health , homelessness and community programs .
The motion does not specifically mention defunding any law enforcement entity .
Some argue @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is key .
Melina Abdullah , co-founder of Black Lives Matter Los Angeles , said there is no way to reform a sheriff ’ s department and also create the transformative change that would come with a genuine antiracist policy agenda .
County leaders must be willing to ask questions such as “ Why are so many Black children in the county ’ s child welfare system ?
” she said .
If the Department of Mental Health , for example , sees that Black people aren ’ t accessing services at rates @ @ @ @ @ @ @ its leaders should ask what racist policies are creating that disparity , Abdullah said .
“ They don ’ t ask ‘ What are we doing wrong ?
’ They are saying , ‘ Why aren ’ t they taking advantage ?
’ You need to flip that question and ask , ‘ What are we doing wrong ?
’ ” Abdullah said .
She said the measure ’ s effectiveness will be dependent on the commitment of leaders .
“ You can ’ t have an antiracist policy agenda and still have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , so I know they voted to close down Men ’ s Central Jail , but that ’ s not enough , ” Abdullah added .
“ So what else is going to be ushered in that ’ s bold and transformative ?
And who are the people involved ?
”

LMek Bitul holds up a sign that reads “This is the tipping point!” during a George Floyd protest outside City Hall in downtown L.A. last month. The recent uprisings have prompted the L.A. County Board of Supervisors to consider a motion about antiracism policy next week.
The antiracism movement in Los Angeles County is moving from protest marches to the halls of power.
On Tuesday, the L.A. County Board of Supervisors is slated to begin debate over a proposal aimed at strengthening county efforts to address racial inequality.
Introduced by the county’s lone Black supervisor, Mark Ridley-Thomas, and inspired by the protests over the Minneapolis police killing of George Floyd, the measure would attempt to shape the county bureaucracy around potentially holding county officials accountable if they fail to uphold more aggressive antiracist policies.
If passed, Los Angeles County would become the 24th county in the country since last year to declare racism a matter of public health, according to the National Assn. of Counties.
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“I’m hoping this will cause people to be more serious about the very demeaning and disenfranchising effects of institutionalized racism and its intergenerational impacts,” Ridley-Thomas said in an interview with The Times.
A term that only recently exploded into the public consciousness, especially among white people, antiracism is defined by Ridley-Thomas with a reference to Ibram X. Kendi’s 2019 book, “How to Be an Antiracist”: “Any measure that produces or sustains racial equity between racial groups.”
Applying that definition to public policy will be up for debate in coming weeks.
The proposal would create an antiracist framework within the vast bureaucracy of the nation’s most populous county, from healthcare to law enforcement, to ensure that all policies address inequities faced by Black residents. Department heads would be evaluated on their efforts to meet at least one goal of the antiracist policy agenda. The county would also be graded annually through an annual report on the state of Black people in the county, written by a university or research institute.
The measure is likely to stir some skepticism that it doesn’t go far enough. It does not specifically mention defunding any law enforcement entity, which is of overriding importance to some activists. Other activists question any measure that doesn’t come with significant funding.
Earl Ofari Hutchinson, an author, political analyst and longtime L.A. civil rights activist, says he would be skeptical of any measure that is long on talk but short on dollars.
“If the supervisors really mean business about dismantling systemic racism,” he said, “they will set up a broad-based racial truth and reconciliation commission of Black community leaders and activists tasked with not just spotting the areas of attack against systemic racism but also with the power to allocate resources, write policies, and overhaul all county structures that perpetuate systemic racism.”.
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The measure could be greeted with some confusion, based on the experience in Milwaukee County, which is believed to be the first county to declare racism a public health issue.
“Everybody was like, ‘Oh, good — what does this mean?’” Milwaukee County Executive David Crowley said.
Crowley, the first Black person elected to his position, said the declaration, enacted last spring, led the county to include addressing racism in its strategic plan, and implement a racial equity budgeting tool that every department head will use when putting together their 2021 budgets.
Although the city of Milwaukee, where much of the state’s Black population lives, was quick to embrace the county’s directive last year, the surrounding suburbs, which are predominantly white, realized action was needed only after Floyd’s killing and the protests that followed.
“It has forced some people to wake up and say, ‘You know what? We need to tackle these issues, even though we may not have a huge population of people of color,’” Crowley said of the suburbs. “When you think about this whole region, Milwaukee County needs to be a leader in how we build back better post-pandemic.”
In Los Angeles County, whose leaders regularly celebrate the region’s diversity and progressive politics, carrying out the public health declaration will need to be intentional and thoughtful, experts and activists say.
“When I first moved to L.A., I recall white colleagues clarifying my own experience of L.A. by telling me, basically it’s not racist, that in fact the South where I had come from was more racist, and that in L.A., for a variety of reasons that actually now sound rather superficial — ‘We have great food from diverse communities!’ — therefore we’re not racist,” said Chandra Ford, founding director of the Center for the Study of Racism, Social Justice & Health at UCLA.
Ford said L.A. County’s antiracist policy agenda must address the specific ways that racism operates “in a so-called liberal context” that, for example, loves Black culture but not Black people.
“Someone may say they’ve read about racism, they’ve studied racism, so therefore the experiences of people who have actually lived it don’t matter quite as much, that they can speak on behalf of people who have lived racism,” Ford said.
In recent weeks, activists with Black Lives Matter and other organizations in the JusticeLA Coalition have called for the Board of Supervisors to defund the L.A. County Sheriff’s Department and move that money into financing mental health, homelessness and community programs.
The motion does not specifically mention defunding any law enforcement entity. Some argue that to be antiracist, that proposal is key.
Melina Abdullah, co-founder of Black Lives Matter Los Angeles, said there is no way to reform a sheriff’s department and also create the transformative change that would come with a genuine antiracist policy agenda.
County leaders must be willing to ask questions such as “Why are so many Black children in the county’s child welfare system?” she said.
If the Department of Mental Health, for example, sees that Black people aren’t accessing services at rates comparable to white people and Latinos, its leaders should ask what racist policies are creating that disparity, Abdullah said.
“They don’t ask ‘What are we doing wrong?’ They are saying, ‘Why aren’t they taking advantage?’ You need to flip that question and ask, ‘What are we doing wrong?’” Abdullah said.
She said the measure’s effectiveness will be dependent on the commitment of leaders.
“You can’t have an antiracist policy agenda and still have the largest jail system in the world, so I know they voted to close down Men’s Central Jail, but that’s not enough,” Abdullah added. “So what else is going to be ushered in that’s bold and transformative? And who are the people involved?”