Adolfo Guzman-Lopez
Adolfo's been a reporter at NPR affiliate KPCC since 2000. He's reported on three L.A. mayors, four L.A. Unified superintendents, and covered the LAPD batons and rubber bullets flying at the May, 2007 MacArthur Park immigrant march. In 1994 he co-founded the poetry-performance group The Taco Shop Poets. He continues to wander the sidewalks, streets and freeways of Southern California searching for the right words for the sounds he hears.
Oscar Garza's one of those people who's been around for a while and his perspective is key to helping understand Los Angeles.
LAUSD school board members have made an impassioned plea to the surrounding community: help us save our schools.
The little guitars at Frida Kahlo High School should all have stickers that read, "this jarana saves drop outs."
The music of troubadors, political prisoners, and socialist revolutionaries of yesteryear attracted a spill-out crowd at an east Long Beach coffee shop on Friday night.
Several days into this new year, Adolfo is nominating "Pont Neuf, Paris" as the painting of our new decade. Can we take a new path?
It was 45 degrees at 3:30pm when I went for a walk in Sterling, Virginia today. The streets were unfamiliar but the names were not: Compton Circle, Wilmington Drive.
"Whose school? Our School!" "Save our school! Save our school!" Protestors outside Fremont High School this week made sure their chants were heard through closed car windows on San Pedro Street:
Chicano muralists went crazy on Jonnie Cochran Middle School, finishing up six outdoor murals and several indoor paintings in Koreatown a couple of months ago.
Day of the Dead's come and gone, one more year on its march toward becoming this country's newest holiday.
A continuous row of Arabic-style stars cut out from the concrete wall give ticker-tape peeks at the overcast ocean.
The assimilation of Gustavo Dudamel is playing well on the red carpet. Walking into Disney Hall Thursday night, Quincy Jones, for one, told me Dudamel reminds him of a young Leonard Bernstein.
The end is near. That's what my senses told me Sunday at Chavez Ravine.The Santa Ana winds retreated to hibernation. Many of the seats on the west side of the stadium were in the shade. No sizzling sunburns on this day.