'A Little More Bite' — A Collage from the Front Lines in Los Angeles
the camera takes me to Hollywood, Boyle Heights, City Hall, and Chinatown
Saturday Afternoon // Los Angeles // Chinatown // 02.21.2026
I’m sitting in the back of a tent in a parking lot in Chinatown. Today is the 127th Annual Golden Dragon Parade, which is how Los Angeles celebrates the Lunar New Year. We’re marking the arrival of the Year of the Fire Horse, and I read an interview with a feng shui expert, who told TODAY, We have the capacity to go around in a circle over and over and over again, not knowing what we’re doing, like a horse with blinders on. Or, we can harness this energy in a really mindful way.
This is the parade’s VIP reception, and I’m no VIP, but it’s in a public parking lot, and I do have a camera around my neck, and I’m tagging along today with a buddy who’s got two cameras around his, so no one’s asked us any questions. He’s the kind of photographer who gets right up close, which I respect and envy, but I’m content to sit in the back and use my telephoto lens.
I’ve tagged along to Chinatown so I’d have something to photograph that’s not my usual subject matter, something less stressful and less-related to the rapid collapse of the country into fascism. We’ve spent the morning seeing the sights — watching sidewalk vendors preparing their stalls, wandering around charming markets cluttered with knickknacks, and chatting about paint colors that include pigments you don’t see often in most of the city. I’ve taken some shots I’m happy with, including some that remind me of the photos my dad used to bring home from his business trips to the Far East.
But then, in the tent, Los Angeles County District Attorney Nathan Hochman takes the stage. As beauty queens in sparkling crowns fill the space behind him, Hochman — who hasn’t filed charges against Brian Palacios, the off-duty ICE agent who murdered Keith Porter on New Year’s Eve — introduces his daughter. He’s going to give his speech in English, he says, while his daughter will translate it into Mandarin.
As I realize I’m sitting behind aides I recognize from the City Council chambers, D.A. Hochman kicks off the Golden Dragon Parade with a speech about the importance of locking up drug dealers, and his daughter repeats him in Mandarin, and he laughs, and she laughs, and he talks about how putting away criminals is essential for safety, and she repeats him again, and he laughs again, and they smile and smile.
My photographer friend sits down next to me.
I feel kind of insane, I say.
So much for getting away from it all.
Wednesday Morning // Los Angeles // Hollywood // 02.18.2026
People don’t ask questions if you have a camera around your neck on Hollywood Blvd., either.
I get to the Chinese Theater early on Wednesday and stake out a prime position to photograph Michelle Yeoh as she receives a star on the Walk of Fame. She’s a delight, somehow both glamorous and a total badass, and I’m glad to let myself be distracted this morning from the kinds of events I usually photograph.
At one point, I look up, and one of the electronic billboards on the most trafficked tourist street in the city is displaying a work by Patrick Martinez, an artist who first came to my attention back in October, as I ran from cops on horseback swinging batons into the crowd at an otherwise-peaceful No Kings protest.
That night, as I regrouped with friends near Plaza Olvera and tried to figure out who we’d left behind — who was still in danger — I saw this window display:
Now, looming over Michelle Yeoh on Hollywood Boulevard, I see this one and think that it’s a pretty succinct summary of the last nine months of my life.
Saturday Afternoon // Los Angeles // Chinatown // 02.21.2026
The VIP tent continues with speeches from LA County Sheriff Robert Luna, also about the importance of supporting immigrant communities through law enforcement…
…and one from City Councilmember Eunisses Hernandez, who is one of the most progressive members of the council… who recently turned her back on me as I tried to tell the council about witnessing the LAPD working with an ICE agent dressed like a Boogaloo Boy… who told a protest crowd last month, I’m a Councilmember, but the government will not save you, I’m just telling you that right now.
…and there were speeches from a few state officials who had little white pins that said ICE OUT, but each speech about “standing with our communities” was matched by one about thanking the people in uniform who keep us safe, and that’s just not true, they don’t keep us safe, they work with ICE, and I’ve seen it with my own eyes and my own camera lens, and I’ve been trying to make people conscious of the things they don’t see, but they keep turning their back on me, and I don’t just mean that literally, but I also do mean it literally, which is somehow even more insulting.
But I’m learning it’s not that they don’t see those things.
It’s that they see them and won’t actually do anything about them.
Thursday Evening // Los Angeles // Boyle Heights // 02.19.2026
I’m standing outside the Hollenbeck Division police station in Boyle Heights, and a fluttering flag in the window of the building catches my eye. The word POLICE is printed across the frosted windows — actually, I realize, the letters are a cutout that let you see inside. Here’s the photo I took:
I’m here for a rally in support of three people arrested the night before, after a general meeting of CentroCSO, a Chicano community self-defense organization. The LAPD responded to a call at the Boyle Heights City Hall, right across the street from where I’m standing. It was a mental-health-crisis thing, and the situation was resolved by the time CentroCSO tried to exit the building to return to their cars.
LAPD didn’t want to let them get back to their cars. The situation devolved, leading to members of the Hollenbeck Division beating and arresting several family members of Jeremy Flores. Last summer, multiple LAPD officers shot and killed Flores, who had a BB gun in his car. Last week, his mother was hit with a baton, and his sister — a minor — was beaten and arrested, and so was his brother, and so was a friend.
By the time we rally, only the friend remains behind bars, though all three still face charges. People chant, and hold signs, and deliver impassioned speeches about what happened the night before. CentroCSO believes the Flores family was recognized by the officers, and — aware that they’ve protested the killing of their loved one — the cops took a little revenge.
This is just another day in Boyle Heights, an organizer says.
When one community member enters the police station to file an official complaint about being hit with a baton the night before, cops push her back out of the building, pour out of a side exit, and begin shoving the crowd with batons, whacking against a guy who’s holding up a skateboard — walking backwards, I miss the shot — and they shout Clear the area! at everyone, even though we’re on a public sidewalk.
As the protesters taunt the cops — pointing out which ones were there the night before, and which ones they know have shot people — one of the organizers on a megaphone mentions that last night’s violence at the Boyle Heights City Hall took place in front of Councilmember Ysabel Jurado.
Friday Morning // Los Angeles // City Hall // 02.20.2026
I’m sitting in the City Council chambers ready for the meeting to be over. It’s been an odd one, including a performance by a high school marching band.
During the Public Comment period, Eunisses Hernandez rises to introduce a motion for the council to adopt a resolution opposing a new federal rule that will deny housing assistance to mixed-status families. If you can’t prove that every member of your household has immigration documents, in other words, you’re barred from receiving public housing. Several other members of the council speak in support of Hernandez’ resolution, but I can’t seem to follow whether they are actually going to block the rule, or if this is little more than a strongly-worded letter before we implement it and deny people housing assistance.
The resolution passes unanimously.
When the members make announcements before adjourning, Nithya Raman — who is running for mayor — recognizes February 19th as the Day of Remembrance, a day in honor of the Japanese people taken to camps during WW2, including a camp in Griffith Park. Raman points out that there are historical echoes in what’s happening today.
Ysabel Jurado rises to echo Raman’s announcement, speaking to the same idea — that we need to acknowledge that it’s happening again. We stand together, and we dishonor that history if we don’t… if we pretend we can’t see the parallels that are happening today, she says. Jurado’s district includes the Metro Detention Center where ICE keeps people in cages, but she doesn’t name it explicitly. She took ten days to praise the Student Walkout on that block that ended in police brutality against teenagers outside that facility, but she didn’t mention the police brutality. Her office told The LA Local that she had indeed been present at the Boyle Heights City Hall on Wednesday — that she had indeed witnessed the CentroCSO confrontation with LAPD — but she doesn’t seem to have offered any further comment on that issue, either.
Instead, now, Jurado invites everyone to a Day of Remembrance event in Little Tokyo on Saturday. This year’s theme is the Power of Action: Silence Today, Injustice Tomorrow, she says, reading from a paper. It’s a warning. Silence as a fear of injustice is not neutral. It’s a choice, and it carries consequences. And we honor those who have suffered, not with words alone, but with courage.
It is not lost on me — though it seems lost on her — that if action is positioned as the opposite of silence, then, you just need to speak, and then you’ve taken action. She’s named “courage” as something additive to words, not something that leads to action.
Which, really, about sums it up.
Saturday Afternoon // Los Angeles // Chinatown // 02.21.2026
I find myself near the starting line of the parade just in time to see LA Mayor Karen Bass emerge from a black SUV with tinted windows. There are protesters waiting for her, a group who I gather is there to demand the city step in and stop developers from buying up Chinatown.
Chinatown is not for sale! they chant as she makes her way through the crowd to the open-top car that will carry her along the parade route.
There’s also a man in a red hoodie that perfectly matches the color of Bass’s red blazer, shouting questions about the fact that she directed the watering-down of an after-action report about last year’s horrific Palisades Fire. [He rules. Here’s his video from the parade as he confronted an LAPD Assistant Chief].
As the car carries Karen Bass away from the people with signs, she’s handed a microphone. She turns and chants along with them, Chinatown is not for sale!
Someone splutters, then shouts back, Then do something!
Saturday Afternoon // Los Angeles // Elysian Heights // 02.21.2026
After the parade I make my way to a mixer thrown by a friend, a chance for people involved in the movement to get together, hang out, swap stories, enjoy some food, and support some local vendors.
The feng shui expert I read about offered some additional advice as we move into the Year of the Fire Horse. There is a sense of seeking out the support of your community, she said, rather than just relying on yourself.
At first, I sit on a couch and edit my photos from the parade. Even though my head is still spinning — still thinking through all the cops and elected officials and words of support and lack of action — I realize that I have a few shots I’m pretty happy with.
Here’s my favorite:
My talented friend Moon Mandel is at the mixer, taking photos of anyone who wants them; it’s a much-lower-stress situation than the incidents we usually photograph together on the front lines. I’m not ready at first, still sorting through my feelings about the day, but after I calm down, knock out some edits of my parade photos, and chat with some other folks, I sit for Moon.
When they’re satisfied that they’ve gotten the shot, they give me one of their trademark lines: Thanks for being alive!
Thursday Night // Los Angeles // Elysian Heights // 02.19.2026
After the CentroCSO rally decides to disperse and the cops file back into the Hollenbeck Division headquarters, I hop a bus to the same place I don’t yet realize I’ll be visiting for a mixer on Saturday.
Tonight — after the Boyle Heights rally — I’m here to see my friend Gabe Dunn act in a readthrough of Ocean’s Eleven that’s been retitled The Gender Heist; it has an all-trans and nonbinary cast. It’s an absolute hoot, everyone in a deliciously silly mood, and I learn that my friend does a pitch-perfect Elliot Gould impression.
When it’s over — as I wait for Gabe to emerge from the dressing room so I can thank him for the invite, because I’ve needed to laugh like that — someone puts a song on repeat, in honor, I guess, of its iconic use in Ocean’s Eleven.
I’m in a loopy mood now, too, and I find myself singing along, out loud, over and over.
A little less conversation
A little more action
All this aggravation
Ain’t satisfactionin’ me
A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark
Elvis Presley, “A Little Less Conversation”