By FERNANDA FIGUEROA, The Associated Press

Labor rights leader Dolores Huerta says she was sexually abused by César Chavez amid reported allegations of abuse by others during his tenure as president of The United Farm Workers union.

In a statement released Wednesday, Huerta said she stayed silent for 60 years out of concern that her words would hurt the farmworker movement.

Huerta described two sexual encounters with Chavez, one where she was “manipulated and pressured” and another where she was “forced against my will.”

“I carried this secret for as long as I did because building the movement and securing farmworker rights was life’s work. The formation of a union was the only vehicle to accomplish and secure those rights and I wasn’t going to let Cesar or anyone else get in the way.”

Earlier Wednesday, an investigation by the New York Times found that Chavez, groomed and sexually abused young girls who worked in the movement, including Huerta.

Huerta said she did not know that Chavez hurt other women and condemned his actions but reminded readers that the farmworker movement is bigger than one person.

“César’s actions do not reflect the values of our community and our movement,” Huerta said in her statement. “The farmworker movement has always been bigger and far more important than any one individual. César’s actions do not diminish the permanent improvements achieved for farmworkers with the help of thousands of people. We must continue to engage and support our community, which needs advocacy and activism now more than ever.

Latino civil rights leaders weigh allegations

Latino leaders and community groups are now weighing the impact of his actions on the labor rights movement.

In their reactions to the news, Latino civil rights advocates emphasized that the farmworker movement was not just Chavez but thousands of other individuals who came together to fight for justice.

Voto Latino leaders said in a statement that no matter his legacy or historical framing Chavez’ actions are inexcusable. Similarly, LULAC released a statement condemning any form of sexual violence stating that “no individual, regardless of statue or legacy is above accountability.”

While the news of these allegations are devastating to the Latino community, Voto Latino said it does not erase the work done by the thousands women and men who built the farmworker movement.

“The women who organized, marched, and sacrificed alongside farmworkers carried this movement on their backs,” Voto Latino said. “Dolores Huerta — a fighter, a giant of the labor movement, and someone who is among the survivors of this abuse — helped build everything this movement stands for.”

U.S. Congresswoman Teresa Leger Fernández, chair of the Democratic Women’s Caucus, issued a statement Wednesday saying she was heartbroken and deeply disturbed by the stories of women who say they were abused as girls by Chavez and what she described as a painful account of what Huerta endured.

Leger Fernández said the farmworker and civil rights movement was built by countless people, including women and families who sacrificed for a better future.

“Honoring that legacy means facing painful truths and continuing the work for justice with honesty and humanity,” the New Mexico congresswoman said. “A movement rooted in justice must address all injustice.”

Leger Fernández said the women’s caucus will stand with survivors and continue fighting for “a future where all women and girls are safe in their communities, homes, and at work.”

The United Farm Workers union has already distanced itself from annual celebrations of its founder, calling the allegations troubling.

In a statement Tuesday, the union said allegations of “abuse of young women or minors” were concerning enough to urge people around the country to participate in immigration justice events or acts of service instead of the typical events in March to commemorate Chavez’s legacy.

State leaders reconsider celebrations and renamings

Days before the allegations were detailed, several César Chavez celebrations in San Francisco, Texas and Chavez’s home state of Arizona were canceled at the request of the foundation. Organizers of canceled events did not immediately respond to the AP’s requests for comment.

Both groups said they’d be working to establish ways for anyone who might have been harmed by Chavez to share experiences confidentially.

California became the first state to establish March 31, Chavez’s birthday, as a day commemorating the labor leader. Others followed. In 2014, then-President Barack Obama proclaimed March 31 as national César Chavez Day, urging Americans to honor his legacy.

California Gov. Gavin Newsom on Wednesday said he’s still “processing” the news and urged for more reflection. The Democratic governor wouldn’t commit to making any changes to the state holiday at the end of the month.

The farmworker movement “was much bigger than one man,” Newsom said at an unrelated news conference. “It’s about labor. It’s about social justice, economic justice, racial justice,” he said.

Following the news, Arizona Gov. Katie Hobbs has declined to recognize March 31 as César Chávez Day as she has in the two prior years, said Liliana Sota, spokeswoman for Arizona Gov. Katie Hobbs.

“The Governor’s Office is deeply concerned by the troubling allegations against César Chávez. As a social worker who worked with homeless youth and victims of domestic violence, Gov. Hobbs takes allegations of inappropriate sexual behavior against women and minors very seriously.”

César Chávez Day isn’t a state holiday in Arizona.

Calls are already happening to rename landmarks that honor Chavez. El Concilio, a coalition of Mexican American neighborhood associations rooted Austin, Texas is proposing the decision to name César Chavez, made a few months after Chavez’s death, be reversed to its original name First Street.

U.S. Sen. Ben Ray Luján, a New Mexico Democrat, issued a statement Wednesday saying abuse of any kind, especially against children, is indefensible and a betrayal of the values that Latino leaders have championed for generations.

“His name should be removed from landmarks, institutions and honors,” Luján said of Chavez. “We cannot celebrate someone who carried out such disturbing harm.”

Born in Yuma, Arizona, Chavez grew up in a Mexican American family that traveled around California picking lettuce, grapes, cotton and other seasonal crops. He died in California in 1993 at age 66.

Chavez is known nationally for his early organizing in the fields, a hunger strike, a grape boycott and eventual victory in getting growers to negotiate with farmworkers for better wages and working conditions.

In 1962, Chavez and Huerta co-founded the National Farm Workers Association, which became the United Farm Workers of America.

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Associated Press writers Susan Montoya Bryan in Albuquerque, New Mexico; Trân Nguy?n in Sacramento, Calif.; Dorany Pindea in Los Angeles; Felicia Fonseca and Jacques Billeaud in Arizona contributed to this report.

A sacred book is paying a visit to Sacramento. 

The Ireicho Book of Names is a monument representing the Japanese Americans who were incarcerated during World War II. The book is the first comprehensive list of the more than 125,000 persons of Japanese ancestry incarcerated in U.S. government-run camps during the war.

The book is currently on a national tour, including stops at each of the 10 former camps for descendants of those incarcerated to leave a personal mark beneath the name of their loved one. 

The California Museum is hosting the Sacramento stop, where the Ireicho Book of Names will be on display from Feb. 14-19.

One person deeply connected to the book is Sharon Fujimoto-Johnson, a Roseville-based children's book author-illustrator and fourth-generation Japanese American. Her grandfather was imprisoned during WWII at an incarceration camp in Hawaii.

Fujimoto-Johnson never met her grandfather, but carries his legacy in the form of shells he collected while at the camp — shells which inspired her latest book.

Fujimoto-Johnson joined Insight Host Vicki Gonzalez to talk about Shell Song, and how it draws inspiration from her grandfather’s story.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Interview highlights

Your family goes back four generations in the United States. Tell us about your family history. 

My great grandfather immigrated from southwestern Japan to Hawaii in 1903. He was the first generation, he founded Fujimoto Trading Company on the big island in Hawaii. At that time most Japanese immigrants worked on the plantations or on the farms, but he went into business instead. His company ended up being the largest trading company between Hawaii and Japan

How did you begin learning about your grandfather?

Sharon Fujimoto-Johnson.Courtesy of Sharon Fujimoto-Johnson/Britt Honey Photography

Well, my grandmother was a storyteller. She was always telling us stories, and she also wrote her autobiography and a whole collection of poems in Japanese. When I was in college she actually entrusted that whole body of work to me, and I had the honor of translating all of her written work into English. Partly so that my family members who don't read Japanese could access it, and also because I — even at that point — wanted the family story to go out to a wider audience. 

You never met your grandfather. What can you tell us about what happened to him during his time being incarcerated at that camp in Hawaii, and also after the war?

Well, my grandfather, Shigeki Fujimoto, was actually a U.S. citizen by birth. So when Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese military, many Japanese Americans in Hawaii were targeted. It was a little different from how it looked on the West Coast, where Executive Order 9066 allowed for the entire Japanese American community to be removed.

In Hawaii — which was not a state yet, it was a territory — martial law was used instead. Community leaders like teachers, priests and business leaders were selectively arrested and incarcerated. The actual target was my great grandfather, the founder of Fujimoto Trading Company. He had gone back to Japan on business and in war, the transportation between Hawaii and Japan was shut down. So he was unable to come back. So really it was in his place that my grandfather was arrested.

I happen to have in my possession his citizenship card verifying that he was a U.S. citizen, and also from the National Archives the paperwork that was used to process his incarceration. That paperwork is titled “Prisoner of War/Enemy Alien,” and he was obviously neither of those. He was a U.S. citizen by birth.

He only lived until his late 40s, correct? 

Yes, that's correct. Conditions in the camps were extremely harsh, especially in the beginning. There were threats of being shot. There were strip searches on a daily basis. Hard labor, lack of good food and really, perhaps the most damaging, isolation from family. And in my grandfather's case, he was a young husband and father at the time. My grandparents had two young kids, ages two and one, and my grandmother was pregnant with their third child… who was actually my father.

She gave birth after my grandfather had been taken away from the family, and so my father met his father for the first time at Honouliuli Incarceration Camp when he was about four and a half months old. In her autobiography my grandmother writes about that moment, traveling these red dirt roads on a bus with the three young kids in tow, and how her husband was so thin and lonely behind barbed wire.

I actually had the chance last year to visit that actual site of the incarceration camp. It's a national park now, Honouliuli National Historic Site. And last year they were commemorating the 10th year of this site being declared a national park. As a descendant I was invited to go on a tour to see the place where my grandfather had been incarcerated, because they're talking now about the planning of this park, and what it's going to look like in years to come. My 11-year-old daughter went with me on this trip, and so we were the first in my family to return to this place… and it looked exactly like my grandmother had described.

This incarceration camp was in a deep gulch between two mountain ranges. From the top of the mountain you can actually see Pearl Harbor in the distance, and then you descend down into this deep, deep gulch and when you look up, you can only see mountain and sky. It was extremely isolated, hot during the summers, cold at night. That's where my grandfather spent his incarceration as well as a second location, Sand Island, also on Oahu.

What you are describing is such hardship. Why decide to make this into a children's book?

I really believe children deserve access to all kinds of books. They deserve to see books that portray characters that look like themselves, but equally characters that don't look anything like themselves or are living very different kinds of lives. I think that's really how empathy starts, when we begin to understand that there are all kinds of storylines in life. Really each of our lives is a story, all of our lives are interconnected.

I wanted to write this book very honestly, but also simply enough and gently enough that even a young child could understand the core themes. It's about family, hardship, loneliness and fairness.

You are also the illustrator of this book and it is just beautiful. What was the creative process like? 

When I was about 10 or 11, I inherited my grandfather's shell collection. Those shells traveled with me through the years. At some point I realized, it's actually the shells that are the key to telling my grandfather's story.

The actual shells are digitally collaged into the artwork, as well as soil from the two incarceration camp sites that he was in and that's thanks to the Japanese American National Museum. They loaned me the soil samples to be photographed.

In the home scenes, I used my grandmother's wedding kimono to create the wallpaper to sort of represent the warmth and security of home that she represented for my grandfather. And also in many of the scenes, the clothing that my grandfather in the book is wearing… I use textures and fabrics from my elderly father's wardrobe. Essentially my grandfather is wearing the clothing of his now-elderly youngest son, who outlived him by many years. 

The Ireicho Book of Names is coming to the California Museum this weekend. You will be going there and making that personal mark. How significant is this for you and your family?

This book represents so many names, and each of those names is a story. My grandfather's name is in that book and his is only one of the many, but I'm so grateful that next week I have the chance to take my 83-year-old father to stamp next to his father's name in that book. 

What do you think that will mean to him?

I think it will be very emotional for all of us, and really it's a way of continuing my grandfather's story for this generation and for the next. To continue the idea that his story really mattered, and continues to matter.

Editor's Note: This story was orignially published on npr.org on Feb. 7, 2024.

The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech, delivered on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1963, is so famous that it often eclipses his other speeches.

King's greatest contribution to the Civil Rights Movement was his oratory, says Jason Miller, an English professor at North Carolina State University who has written extensively on King's speeches.

"King's first biographer was a dear friend of Dr. King's, L.D. Reddick," Miller says. Reddick once suggested to King that maybe more marching and less speaking was needed to push the cause of civil rights forward. According to Miller, King is said to have responded, "My dear man, you never deny an artist his medium."

Miller says that in his research, he found numerous examples of King reworking and recycling old speeches. "He would rewrite them ... just to change phrasings and rhythms. And so he prepared a great deal, often 19 lines per page on a yellow legal sheet."

Often, King would write notes to himself in the margins: "what tenor and tone to deliver," Miller says.

That phrasing and an understanding of cadence were all important to the success of these speeches, according to Carolyn Calloway-Thomas, director of graduate studies at the Department of African American and African Diaspora Studies at Indiana University.

King's training in the pulpit gave him a strong insight into what moves an audience, she says. "Preachers are performers. They know when to pause. How long to pause. And with what effect. And he certainly was a great user of dramatic pauses."

Here are four of King's speeches that sometimes get overlooked, plus the one he delivered the day before his 1968 assassination. Collectively, they represent historical signposts on the road to civil rights.

"Give Us the Ballot" (May 17, 1957 — Washington, D.C.)

The Martin Luther King, Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change/ YouTube

But Jim Crow persisted throughout much of the South. The yearlong Montgomery bus boycott, sparked by the arrest of Rosa Parks, had ended only months before King's speech. And the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which sought to end disenfranchisement of Black voters, was still eight years away.

"It's a very important speech because he's talking about the importance of voting and he's responding to some of the Southern resistance to the Brown decision," says Vicki Crawford, director of the Martin Luther King Jr. Collection at Morehouse College, King's alma mater.

U.S. deputy marshals escort 6-year-old Ruby Bridges from William Frantz Elementary School in New Orleans in November 1960. The first-grader was the only Black child enrolled in the school, where parents of white students were boycotting.AP

The speech calls out both major political parties for betraying "the cause of justice" and failing to do enough to ensure civil rights for Blacks. He accuses Democrats of "capitulating to the prejudices and undemocratic practices of the Southern Dixiecrats," referring to the party's pro-segregation wing. The Republicans, King said, had instead capitulated "to the blatant hypocrisy of right-wing, reactionary Northerners."

King speaks at a mass demonstration at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., on May 17, 1957, as civil rights leaders called on the U.S. government to put more teeth into the Supreme Court's desegregation decisions.Charles Gorry/AP

He also indicts Northern liberals who are "so bent on seeing all sides" that they are "neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm" in their commitment to civil rights.

"King [was] calling on both parties to take a look at themselves," Crawford says.

With the movement gaining steam, King used his speech to take stock of where things stood and what must be done next, Calloway-Thomas says. "He is revisiting the status of African American people."

"Our God Is Marching On!" (March 25, 1965 — Montgomery, Ala.)

The Martin Luther King, Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change/ YouTube

The speech was delivered after the last of three Selma-Montgomery marches to call for voting rights. Protesters were beaten by Alabama law enforcement officials at the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma on March 7 in what came to be known as Bloody Sunday. Among the nearly 60 wounded that day by club-wielding police was John Lewis, the chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), who suffered a fractured skull. (Lewis later served 17 terms in the U.S. House of Representatives.) A second attempt to reach Montgomery a few days later was again turned back at the bridge. In a third try, marchers finally reached the steps of the Alabama State Capitol on March 25.

"Finally the group of protesters gets all the way to the Capitol, and King delivers a speech to what we think is about 25,000 people," Miller says. The speech is also often referred to as the "How Long? Not Long" speech because of that powerful refrain, Miller says.

Jonathan Eig, author of the biography King: A Life, published last year, says he thinks about three-fourths of the speech was written out. "Then [King] goes off script and gives a sermon."

That's when he answers the question "How long?" for his audience. How long will it be until Black people have the same rights as white people? "Not long, because no lie can live forever," King tells his exuberant listeners.

"That's the part that really echoes. No question," Eig says. "And I think that's when he knew he was at his best. He knew that he could bring the crowd to its feet and inspire them."

Also notable is a famous anecdote that King shared in his speech, one that appeared earlier in his 1963 "Letter from a Birmingham Jail" addressed to his "fellow clergymen." It relates the words of Sister Pollard, a 70-year-old Black woman who had walked everywhere, refusing to ride the Montgomery buses during the 1955-1956 boycott.

"One day, she was asked while walking if she didn't want to ride," King said, speaking to the crowd that had just successfully marched from Selma to Montgomery. "And when she answered, 'No,' the person said, 'Well, aren't you tired?' And with her ungrammatical profundity, she said, 'My feets is tired, but my soul is rested.'"

"And in a real sense this afternoon, we can say that our feet are tired but our souls are rested," he said.

The story of Sister Pollard would be used again in the coming years.

But the speech may be best remembered today for another line, where King said, "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice."

In fact, King was using the words of a 19th-century Unitarian minister, Theodore Parker. Parker was an abolitionist who secretly funded John Brown's raid on Harpers Ferry in 1859, often seen as an opening salvo of the Civil War. In a sermon given seven years before the raid, Parker used the line that King would pick up more than a century later.

"Dr. King absorbed all kinds of material, heard from others, used it on his own. But this is what we call appropriation or transformation when the old seems new," Miller says.

"Beyond Vietnam" (April 4, 1967 — New York City)

King had already begun speaking out about the war in Vietnam, but this speech was his most forceful statement on the conflict to date. Black soldiers were dying in disproportionate numbers. King noted the irony that in Vietnam, "Negro and white boys" were killing and dying alongside each other "for a nation that has been unable to seat them together in the same schools."

"So we watch them, in brutal solidarity, burning the huts of a poor village, but we realize that they would hardly live on the same block in Chicago," he said. "I could not be silent in the face of such cruel manipulation of the poor."

An infantry soldier runs across a burned-out clearing in Vietnam on Jan. 4, 1967. Horst Faas/AP

SNCC leader Stokely Carmichael, a major civil rights figure, had come out against the war and encouraged King to join him. But some in King's own inner circle had cautioned him against speaking about Vietnam.

Although powerful and timely, the speech drew a harsh and immediate reaction from a nation that had only just begun to reckon with the rising casualties and economic toll of the war. Both The Washington Post and The New York Times published editorials criticizing it. The Post said King had "diminished his usefulness to his cause, his country, his people" and the Times said he had "dampened his prospects for becoming the Negro leader who might be able to get the nation 'moving again' on civil rights."

King knew he would take heat for the speech, especially from the administration of President Lyndon B. Johnson, with whom he'd worked to get the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and, a year later, the Voting Rights Act, through Congress. With the presidential election just 19 months away, continued support of Johnson's Vietnam policy was crucial to his reelection. Nearly 10 months after the speech, however, the Tet Offensive launched by the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese army would help turn U.S. public opinion against the war and lead Johnson to not seek another term.

But in April 1967, the reaction to the speech was "far worse than King or his advisers imagined," says Miller, of North Carolina State University. Johnson "excommunicated" the civil rights leader, he says, adding that even leaders of the NAACP expressed disappointment that King had focused attention on the war.

"His immediate response was that he was crushed," Miller says. "There are a number of people who have documented that he literally broke down in tears when he realized the kind of backlash towards it."

He was criticized from both sides of the political aisle. Sen. Barry Goldwater, R-Ariz., a staunch conservative who made a failed run for the presidency in 1964, said King's speech "could border a bit on treason."

"King himself said that he anguished over doing the speech," says Indiana University's Calloway-Thomas.

"The Three Evils of Society" (Aug. 31, 1967 — Chicago)

The three evils King outlines in this speech are poverty, racism and militarism. Referring to Johnson's Great Society program to help lift rural Americans out of poverty, King said that it had been "shipwrecked off the coast of Asia, on the dreadful peninsula of Vietnam" and that meanwhile, "the poor, Black and white are still perishing on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity."

Calloway-Thomas calls it "the most scathing critique of American society by King that I have ever read."

"We need, according to him, a radical redistribution of political and economic power," she says, "Is that implying reparations? Is that implying socialism?"

Calloway-Thomas hears in King's words an antecedent to the Black Lives Matter movement. "One sees in that speech some relationship between the rhetoric of Dr. King at that moment and the rhetoric of Black Lives Matter at this moment," she says.

It was also one of the many instances where King quoted poet Langston Hughes, with whom he had become friends. "What happens to a dream deferred? It leads to bewildering frustration and corroding bitterness," King said in a nod to Hughes' most famous poem, "Harlem."

King and Hughes traveled together to Nigeria in 1960, Miller notes, calling the poet an often unrecognized but nonetheless "central figure" in the early Civil Rights Movement. "They exchanged letters. Dr. King told [Hughes] how much he used his poetry. Dr. King used seven poems by Langston Hughes in his sermons and speeches from 1956 to 1958."

"I've Been to the Mountaintop!" (April 3, 1968 — Memphis, Tenn.)

The Martin Luther King, Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change/ YouTube

This is King's last speech, delivered a day before his assassination at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tenn., on April 4, 1968. He was in the city to lend his support and his voice to the city's striking sanitation workers.

"He wasn't expecting to give a speech that night," according to Clayborne Carson, Martin Luther King, Jr. centennial professor emeritus at Stanford University. "He was hoping to get out of it. He was not feeling well."

"They call him and say, 'The people here want to hear you. They don't want to hear us.' And plus, the place was packed that night" despite a heavy downpour, Carson says. "I think he recognized that people really wanted to hear him. And despite the state of his health, he decided to go."

Martin Luther King Jr. makes his last public appearance, at the Mason Temple in Memphis, Tenn., on April 3, 1968. The following day, King was assassinated on his motel balcony.Charles Kelly/AP

The haunting words, in which King says, "I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you" have led many people to think he was prophesying his own death the following day at the hands of assassin James Earl Ray.

"The speech really does feel a bit like his own eulogy," says Eig. "He's talking about earthly salvation and heavenly salvation. And, in the end, boldly equating himself with Moses, who doesn't live to see the Promised Land."

The speech is largely, if not entirely, extemporaneous. And by the end, King was exhausted, says Carson. "It's pretty clear when you watch the film that he's not in the best shape."

"He barely makes it to the end," he says.

"But he relied on his audience to bring him along," Carson says. "I think it's one of those speeches where the crowd is inspiring him and he's inspiring them. That's what makes it work."

It's a great speech, made greater still because it was his last, says Calloway-Thomas.

"You have this wonderful man who epitomized the social and political situation in the United States in the 20th century," she says. "There he is, dying so tragically and dreadfully. It has a lot of pity and pathos buried inside it."

By SOPHIE AUSTIN Associated Press/Report for America

SACRAMENTO, Calif. (AP) — California's high school track-and-field state championships starting Friday are set to be the testing ground for a new participation and medaling policy for competitions that include transgender athletes.

The California Interscholastic Federation will let an additional student compete and potentially offer an extra medal in three events in which a trans athlete is competing. The athlete, high school junior AB Hernandez, is the second seed in the triple jump and will also participate in the long jump and high jump.

It may be the first effort by a high school sports governing body to expand participation when trans athletes are participating, and it reflects efforts to find a middle ground in the debate over trans girls' participation in youth sports.

“The CIF values all of our student-athletes and we will continue to uphold our mission of providing students with the opportunity to belong, connect, and compete while complying with California law,” the group said in a statement after announcing its rule change.

State law allows trans students to compete on sex-segregated sports teams consistent with their gender identity.

President Donald Trump threatened this week to pull federal funding from California unless it bars trans female athletes from competing on girls teams. The U.S. Department of Justice also said it would investigate the state federation and the district that includes Hernandez’s high school to determine whether they violated federal sex discrimination law by allowing trans girls to compete in girls sports.

What the new participation and medaling policy will look like

The meet, which is taking place at a high school near Fresno, will open up the girls triple jump, long jump and high jump to one additional athlete each who would have qualified had Hernandez not participated. Hernandez will compete in the preliminaries Friday for a chance to advance to the finals Saturday.

Under the pilot policy, if a transgender athlete medals, their ranking would not displace a “biological female” student from medaling, the federation said.

The federation said the rule would open the field to more “biological female” athletes. One expert said the change may itself be discriminatory because it creates an extra spot for “biological female” athletes but not for other trans athletes.

The federation did not specify how they define “biological female” or how they would verify whether a competitor meets that definition.

Medical experts say gender is a spectrum, not a binary structure consisting of only males and females.

The two-day meet is expected to draw attention from a coalition of protesting parents and students. Critics have objected Hernandez's participation and heckled her in qualifying events earlier this month. Leaders from the conservative California Family Council joined Republican state lawmakers Thursday for a press conference blasting the policy change and saying Hernandez shouldn't be allowed to compete.

“If they have to create special exceptions and backdoor rule changes to placate frustrated athletes, that’s not equality, that’s a confession," Sophia Lorey, the council's outreach director, said in a statement. “Girls’ sports should be for girls, full stop.”

CIF Executive Director Ron Nocetti urged participants and bystanders to behave respectfully toward all student-athletes in a message shared in the championship program.

Nationwide debate over trans athletes' participation

A recent AP-NORC poll found that about 7 in 10 U.S. adults think transgender female athletes should not be allowed to participate in girls and women’s sports at the high school, college or professional level. That view was shared by about 9 in 10 Republicans and roughly half of Democrats. Trump won Fresno County, where the meet will be held, in 2024.

Hernandez told the publication Capital & Main earlier this month that she couldn’t worry about critics.

“I’m still a child, you’re an adult, and for you to act like a child shows how you are as a person,” she said.

She noted that she has lost some of her events, saying that disproved arguments that she can’t be beat.

AB Hernandez of Jurupa Valley competes in the girls high jump during the CIF Southern Section Masters Meet at Moorpark High School, May 24, 2025, in Moorpark, Calif.Kirby Lee/AP

Hernandez is expected to perform well, particularly in the triple jump, in which she has a personal best of over 41 feet (12.5 meters). That is more than 3 feet (1 meter) short of a national record set in 2019. She's the fifth seed in the long jump but ranked much lower in the high jump.

California's state championship stands out from that of other states because of the number of competitors athletes are up against to qualify.

More than 57,000 high schoolers participated in outdoor track and field in California during the 2023-2024 school year, according to a survey by the National Federation of State High School Associations. California had the second-largest number of high school outdoor track-and-field athletes, only behind Texas.

Of the 12 high school athletes who have set national records in the girls triple jump between 1984 and 2019, eight have been from California, according to the national sports governing body.

Davis Whitfield, the national federation’s chief operating officer, called a state championship “the pinnacle” for high school student-athletes.

“It's certainly a once-in-a-lifetime experience in some cases to participate in a state championship event," he said.

___

Austin is a corps member for The Associated Press/Report for America Statehouse News Initiative. Report for America is a nonprofit national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on undercovered issues. Follow Austin on X: @sophieadanna

This story was originally published by CalMatters. Sign up for their newsletters.

Over 2,500 miles from Washington D.C., in a windowless meeting room at a San Diego community college, President Donald Trump’s fight with higher education is playing out. 

“This presidential thing, we will not let that happen here at Mesa College,” said Lucio Lira, the coordinator at the college’s “pride center,” as an audience of over 50 students, faculty and staff applauded loudly. 

That “thing” is a budget cut. President Trump is proposing to cut more than $10 billion from the US Department of Education for the 2026 fiscal year. For each national program he wants to cut, the justification is usually general, pointing to the need to shrink the role of the federal government or to undermine “DEI” (diversity, equity and inclusion efforts) and “woke ideology.” He singles out just one program by name: San Diego Community College District’s LGBTQ+ pride centers.

In California, more than half of all undergraduates attend community colleges, but unlike Ivy League institutions and major research universities, such as UCLA, community colleges have largely avoided Trump’s spending cuts and ire — so far. But they’re bracing for changes to come. 

In 2023, each of San Diego’s four community colleges received over $225,000 through a federal grant to support spaces and programs for their LGBTQ+ students. That money is supporting “initiatives unrelated to students or institutional reforms,” Trump’s budget proposal says. 

Those federal dollars helped Lira transform Mesa College’s meeting room into a banquet hall with tables, decorations and catering for a  “Lavender Celebration.” At this event, the college honored its LGBTQ+ graduates by offering each a pride-themed stole — or, as Lira says, a “sash” — to wear at commencement. Technically, any student can participate in the Lavender Celebration  and receive a stole because California’s Proposition 209, in effect since voters approved it nearly three decades ago, bans giving “preferential treatment” to students based on race or sex. 

After Lira’s speech, the college president, the district’s chancellor and one of the district’s board members spoke to the graduates, criticizing the Trump administration for singling out these San Diego pride centers, and for its February letter to colleges, which threatened to pull federal funding from any school that promotes diversity, equity and inclusion. Colleges across the country have cancelled or rebranded graduation events for LGBTQ+ students out of concern that these events could also violate the administration’s order.

San Diego Community College District Chancellor Gregory Smith said the pride centers are planning to spend down the federal money “as quickly as we can so it isn’t pulled back.” Meanwhile, Trump’s budget proposal requires Congressional approval, which can take months.

‘Republicans’ favorite scapegoat.’

Lira and his staff set up the meeting room for the celebration, draping each table in a lavender cloth and hanging streamers from the ceiling. Together with the balloons and the catering, including pan dulce with lavender-colored crusts, the event cost about $3,000, he said, all of it supported by federal funds. 

The grants to San Diego’s pride centers were an earmark, requested by local Democratic US Rep. Sara Jacobs. A co-chair of the “Transgender Equality Task Force” in the House, Jacobs said Trump’s proposed cuts to San Diego’s pride centers have little to do with this particular grant. 

“He wants to be able to control what (colleges) teach, who they admit and hire, what areas of study they can follow. He wants us to be talking about LGBTQ+ kids instead of how he’s attacking the ideals that higher education is founded on, like free speech,” she said. “LGBTQ+ kids and especially trans kids are Republicans’ favorite scapegoat.”

San Diego’s LGBTQ+ center isn’t the only cited reason for cutting the roughly $200 million federal program where the earmark came from, the Fund for the Improvement of Postsecondary Education. Trump’s budget offers another, broader justification too, saying colleges and states, not the federal government, “should be responsible for funding institutional reforms and innovative programs.  These additional resources have allowed colleges and universities to fund ideologies instead of students, while still raising tuition costs.” 

Trump targets one other community college grant in California as justification for cutting another, roughly $100 million federal program, although without naming the college. “It is not the responsibility of Federal taxpayers to support a new ‘Guided Pathways Village, expanding the current Learning Communities and creating a new Ethnic and Pride Inclusion Center for historically underserved students, including LGBTQ+ students,’” the budget proposal says. The language about the “Guided Pathways Village” directly matches a 2021 press release about a $2.25 million federal grant to De Anza College in Cupertino. 

Already, his administration has slashed research funding to professors who study LGBTQ issues and prevented federally funded programs from recognizing non-binary or gender nonconforming students.  

On Tuesday, Trump posted on his Truth Social platform, threatening to withhold “large scale Federal Funding” from California because of one transgender athlete. 

Snacks and support at the LGBTQ+ center

When the pride center isn’t hosting events, it’s a hang-out space, where students stop by to grab a snack, study, and talk with Lira, who is a counselor. Outside the center is a rack of free clothes for students who are transitioning their gender. 

“Like everyone else I come here most days for the food,” said student Daniella Abbott with a laugh. “I honestly met most of my friends here.” She said she has seen the pride center grow in popularity since it first opened in February 2023. Now Lira said over 30 students come to the center each day. 

Christopher Delgado is also a regular. “When I first came here, I was about to be homeless,” he said. Lira recommended he enroll in a counseling course that’s specifically targeted to LGBTQ+ students, which changed his life, he said. “I was able to lift myself out of a bad place.” He is set to graduate next year but came to the Lavender Celebration to cheer on his friends. 

Delgado identifies as gay while others around him say they’re trans, queer, pansexual or bisexual. Some aren’t out to their families or say their parents aren’t supportive.

After all the speeches, Lira returned to the podium, where he announced graduates’ names and placed stoles around their necks. The students transferring to four-year universities announced their plans, and each posed for a photo with the college president and district chancellor.

Abbott was the first name called. Standing at the podium next to Lira, she announced that she’s headed to UCLA in the fall, though it isn’t technically true – at least not yet. “I got waitlisted,” she told CalMatters with a laugh. “It’s happening. They just don’t know it yet.”

Her back-up, UC San Diego, already admitted her and she said it offered a generous financial aid package — a requirement for her. 

As part of the federal earmark, Mesa College gave out $500 scholarships to low-income LGBTQ+ students involved in the pride center, and Abbott was one of the many recipients. 

“When I found out I got the scholarship, I was like ‘Oh great, I can finally get lunch,” she said. It was a joke, she later clarified, but there’s a kernel of truth: Although she lives at home with her parents, Abbott is responsible for most of her living costs, such as gas and food. She received around $8,400 in federal financial aid in the past academic year, as well as $4,000 in state aid.

Many of California’s roughly 2 million community college students are low-income — some are even homeless — and like Abbott, they rely on federal aid  to cover daily expenses. In his budget, Trump proposes ending long-standing programs that offer academic counseling and cash to low-income students who are the first generation in their families to attend college. The Education Department has already moved to exclude students without legal status from accessing that program. 

Earlier this year, the advocacy association for California’s community college presidents and trustees asked the state to help offset the impact of federal budget cuts, but the state has a projected budget deficit, and Gov. Gavin Newsom’s budget proposals don’t mention the association’s request. 

Funded or not, federal programs at risk

The federal budget is even more complicated. With Trump’s proposal in mind, the Republican-controlled Congress drafts its own spending bill, which the president must ultimately sign. The House of Representatives put forward its spending proposal in April, but unlike Trump’s budget, the House version doesn’t mention the 2023 earmark to the San Diego pride centers or the US Education Department’s Fund for the Improvement of Postsecondary Education.

That’s probably because the House is  focused on high-dollar programs, said Iris Palmer, the director of community college policy at the think tank New America. She said the Fund for the Improvement of Postsecondary Education, about $200 million a year, is “not even a drop in the bucket.”

Even if Congress funds higher education programs that Trump wants to cut, Palmer said the administration could try to avoid implementing them. “They’ve fired everyone,” she said, “It makes it very hard to run grant programs.”

Regardless, the San Diego pride centers are planning to exhaust their federal funds no later than next summer, and earmarks are, by design, a one-time grant. All told, about half of the Mesa Pride Center’s budget comes from the federal earmark, said Lira. The rest is from the state, and the state Legislature has signaled that money will continue, at least into next year.  

Smith, the San Diego colleges’ district chancellor, didn’t specify how, exactly, the pride center will handle the cuts, though he said that some resources will “definitely go away.” 

Once the Lavender Celebration is over, a few students and volunteers remain to clean up, including Valerie Seng, a professor of medical assisting at Mesa College, and Sage Shevkolenko, a student and project assistant at the pride center. In a community where some students don’t feel comfortable going home or coming out, they’re a bright spot: Seng is Shevkolenko’s mom. 

“It means a lot,” said Shevkolenko, referring to her mom’s presence at the event, as they both helped take down the streamers and began dismantling the branded backdrop where students took photos in their stoles. “I know that a lot of families don’t have that privilege.” 

A divisive question

The Board on Geographic Names has the power to change Kelseyville’s name if it deems its current one sufficiently offensive. But before making a decision, the federal entity needs to have input from interested parties, which includes tribes and Lake County’s Board of Supervisors. 

But as conversations around the possible change became locally divisive, the county’s board stalled on giving that input. They eventually decided to put the issue on the November ballot and give their recommendation after seeing the results. 

The advisory measure asks the question simply: Shall the Board of Supervisors recommend approval of the proposal to change the name of the town of “Kelseyville” to “Konocti”?

Walking through Kelseyvillle, it’s easy to find evidence of the topic’s divisiveness. Signs from a group opposing the name change — Save Kelseyville — are installed by roads and under signs of local businesses. The group declined to be interviewed for this story. 

On their website, they outline a variety of concerns: One argument says the platform to discuss the past could disappear if the name changes. Another says it would be a financial burden for local businesses. 

Signs from a group opposing the proposed name change — Save Kelseyville — are installed by roads and under signs of local businesses throughout town.Manola Secaira/CapRadio

Save Kelseyville supporters also spoke about their concerns at a Lake County board meeting in July.

“What Kelsey did in the 1800s was horrible and we can’t change that,” said Barabra Hollenkamp, a Kelseyville local who spoke against the change. “I think the hurt from everything that happened then isn't going to go away … and we just need to try to make things better on our own. This is not the first time something like this has happened in other parts of the United States or the country, the world.” 

Flaman McCloud Jr., the chairman of the Big Valley Band of Pomo Indians, said he initially felt more neutral about the need to change the town’s name. But after hearing opposing arguments at the July meeting — including one where a Save Kelseyville supporter claimed Indigenous people are victimizing themselves — he changed his mind.

“Honestly, it was terrible,” McCloud said. “The feeling of not being seen or that what our people went through was nothing, right? So just dismissing what we went through.” 

He said members of his Tribe differ in their opinions on the name change. Some want to see it change, while others say they aren’t bothered by it. But McCloud said he’s come to see the value of the change, especially when he thinks of what it could mean to future generations of Native kids. He said it’s one way to show that their stories, and their pain, matter. 

“Years down the road, I won’t even be here, but that man’s name will no longer be honored for what he did to our people,” he said. “We’re not trying to take, we’re just trying to be seen.” 

History lives on

The idea to change the town’s name preceded the creation of C4H. Clayton Duncan, an elder of the Robinson Rancheria of Pomo Indians, had come up with the idea some years prior, although the movement didn’t gain traction at the time. 

For the last 25 years, he’s also led an annual ceremony honoring the victims of the Bloody Island Massacre and tells the story of his great-grandmother, who survived it. The story of his great-grandmother is one that he grew up hearing from family members who were dedicated to passing it down. 

He supports the current movement to change Kelseyville’s name. 

“It'll show us a little respect … as Native people that they're not honoring their people that kill us and murdered us and raped us,” he said.

Clayton Duncan, an elder of the Robinson Rancheria of Pomo Indians, hosts a ceremony each year to honor the victims of the Bloody Island Massacre.Manola Secaira/CapRadio

Discussions about derogatory place names extend beyond Kelseyville. Both federal and California officials have moved to scrub slurs for Indigenous people from place names. In some cases, history must also be reckoned with, like in the case of the Sutter Buttes. The area is named after settler John Sutter, who, like Kelsey, committed acts of violence against Indigenous people. 

But it can help create new understanding. 

“Mostly, it's educational for the settler community, who is, generally speaking, profoundly ignorant of the Indigenous history of places and certainly at this place in particular,” Lawyer said. 

Lorna Sides expects Lake County’s Board of Supervisors to give their recommendation to the federal board sometime in December, after votes have been certified. The announcement from the federal board could come any time after that. 

If the name is changed, she says she doesn’t expect it to be as dramatic as some might think. No businesses would be required to change their names, even if “Kelseyville” is a part of it, for example.  

“It's going to be a slow change,” she said. “But we’ll start hearing it less, seeing it less, saying it less.” 

But if it happens, she thinks it would still be a meaningful message to those who’ve been hurt by Kelsey’s legacy.  

“We can't make it right and we can't erase it, and we're not trying to erase it,” she said. “But we understand the pain.”

Say goodbye to Bachman’s Sparrow, Scott’s Oriole and Townsend’s Warbler. Those three birds are among a half-dozen that will get renamed first under a plan by the American Ornithological Society to do away with common bird names that honor people.

But whether or not the society will keep going after that, and get rid of all eponymous bird names, remains to be seen.

Last year, the society announced a plan to do just that. The goal was to rename over a hundred North and South American birds, to purge bird names of links to racism and colonialism without having to engage in contentious and time-consuming debates about the morality of every historical figure that had ever been honored in a bird’s common name.

The sweeping move, however, surprised and upset many birders and ornithologists.

This week, opponents and proponents will get to have their say at the society’s annual meeting in Colorado, which features a forum on Thursday to discuss the bird renaming plan.

“I cannot predict what is going to happen there,” says Kenn Kaufman, an author of field guides and a fellow of the society.

He’s seen his fair share of birding controversies, like when birders debated whether they had to actually see a bird or just hear its call in order to add it to their birding life list.

This controversy, though, is in its own league, says Kaufman.

“Something at this scale, I don’t think has ever happened before,” he says. “The decision was put out there, there was a very strong reaction in some quarters, and so the initial decision might wind up being altered.”

"Verbal Statues"

On May 25, 2020, George Floyd was killed on the same day that a white woman called the police on Christian Cooper, a Black man out birding in New York, heightening awareness of social justice issues in society more generally and in birding specifically.

That year, the American Ornithological Society took action on a proposal to rename a bird that had previously been named after a high-ranking Confederate officer. McCown’s Longspur suddenly became the Thick-billed Longspur.

This renaming proposal had been rejected a couple years earlier, but times had changed. Confederate statues and monuments were coming down in cities and towns.

And a group called Bird Names For Birds was urging the society to do more to address problematic bird names, likening eponymous common names to “verbal statues.”

After forming an ad hoc committee to study the issue and make recommendations, the society announced its plan to rename all birds named after people, along with changing any other names deemed offensive.

The birds would get new names selected to highlight each bird’s key features.

"Names have power and power can be for the good or it can be for the bad," society president Colleen Handel told NPR at the time. "We want these names to be powerful in a really good way."

Kaufman says to him, the arguments for just renaming all of these birds made a lot of sense.

Consider Clark’s nutcracker, he says, which is named for William Clark of the Lewis and Clark expedition. Some consider Clark to be a great American hero, says Kaufman, but he also kept a man named York in slavery and refused his pleas for freedom.

“The arguments about whether or not he deserves to have a bird named for him,” says Kaufman, “could get to be pretty dicey.”

Canceling Heroes

But this spring, over six thousand people signed a petition urging the society to reconsider its plan, saying it should use a case-by-case method.

This was followed by a resolution signed by over two hundred of the society’s own fellows. These ornithologists said that while the society could do a pilot project to change clearly offensive bird names, it should hold off on moving beyond that until it had better consulted with its members, with measures such as an opinion poll.

“An important point here is that changing bird names sends a stronger message if the names are restricted to offensive names rather than replacing all eponymous names,” says Steven Beissinger, professor emeritus with the University of California, Berkeley, who helped organize the resolution.

A lot of important ornithology history is embedded in names, he says, noting that Henslow’s sparrow honors John Stevens Henslow, a mentor of Charles Darwin and a committed abolitionist. The Blackburnian warbler, meanwhile, is named after Anna Blackburne, a pioneering female scientist of the 18th century.

“This decision to get rid of eponyms also extends to Central and South American birds,” says Beissinger. “It might offend many Latin American ornithologists by canceling their heroes for whom birds have been named.”

He points out that Juan Gundlach, considered to be the father of Cuban ornithology, has a hawk named after him, and there’s a flycatcher named after Chico Mendes, a conservationist who was murdered because of his work to preserve the Amazonian rainforest.

A Positive Process

In May, when the society announced that it had chosen six birds to rename in a pilot project, “it felt like exciting progress," a co-founder of Bird Names for Birds, Jordan Rutter, told NPR in a July email. “There was a lot of community support around it.”

But few details beyond the six birds had been provided, Rutter noted.

Handel, the society president, says that after the discussion held this week at the annual meeting, “we will be incorporating ideas and suggestions from our members into the plans for the pilot project.”

“Our members have expressed strong support for the pilot project,” Handel added. ”With everyone's help, it can serve as an enriching experience for all those who participate in it. The results of the project will then provide guideposts for our next steps.”

The six birds chosen for the pilot project seem to be ones that almost everyone could agree should be changed, says Robert Driver of Duke University.

“People who have birds named after them that are well-documented white supremacists, or grave robbers of Native American skulls, and things like this,” says Driver.

To him, selecting these six birds seems like a way for the society “to actually walk back a little bit and change some high-priority ones first and then reassess what the feeling is after these major ones are gone.”

Driver was behind that proposal to change the bird named after Confederate major general John McCown, and he says he’s come to appreciate the process the proposal went through, despite the initial rejection and all the time it took.

“To me it was a positive process, overall, and the community really got to learn about John P. McCown,” he says.

He says changing every single honorific name, in contrast, would mean that ornithologists would not be forced to confront the past in the same way.

“We don’t have to worry about what Scott did or Townsend did or Bachman did or Audubon did or whoever,” says Driver. “We’re changing them all. They’re all going.”

That’s why, even though he knows the society didn’t want to argue over every individual bird species, he personally thinks there would be some benefits if this effort ends up going bird by bird, “slowly un-turning every stone, and finding out all this history, and really diving into it.”

This story was featured in our SacramenKnow newsletter. Sign up to get updates about what’s happening in the region in your inbox every Tuesday and Thursday.

Miguel Gonzalez has worked in the restaurant industry for the last 17 years. Now, he’s looking to start a food truck business with his brother serving a fusion of Peruvian and Yucatán cuisines. 

To achieve that goal, Gonzalez realized he had to learn all the rules that go along with being a street vendor. That’s why he attended the Sacramento Hispanic Chamber of Commerce’s Street Vendor Bootcamp on Tuesday, a Spanish pilot program that aims to teach attendees what they need to succeed in their business goals. 

“There are times that the thing that limits Latino immigrants is the lack of information,” Gonzalez said in Spanish. “Sometimes the process is simpler and more affordable than what we imagined to be able to work in a dignified, tranquil way that allows us to operate in the way the law says.” 

Although he’s from Brentwood, where rules might differ slightly from Sacramento, he hopes to use the knowledge he acquired during the workshop to kickstart his business. 

“Every county has its own rules and regulations … but I think the information in general is important to even be able to start,” he added. 

Aspiring street vendor Miguel Gonzalez stands outside of the Self-Help Federal Credit Union Tuesday, Sept. 24, 2024, in Sacramento.Gerardo Zavala/CapRadio

The boot camp covered everything from code enforcement compliance and business operations to social media and marketing. 

David Contto, small business consultant for the chamber, led the workshop. He said this is only the second time the chamber has held the event.

“I’m originally from Peru and I grew up around street vendors,” Contto said.  “Anytime we needed something at the house, we’d go to the mercado on the street, so it’s very much a Latino thing.”

The workshop covered the laws of food vending on the street, which permits are required to get started, and how to promote their business online, among other things. 

“We don’t just give them the tools for the permits that they need, but also how to operate their business,” Contto added. 

Contto also acknowledged street vendors in California have dealt with an increase in violence, which he noted mostly goes unreported. According to data from the Los Angeles Police Department, the period between Jan. 1, 2023 and Aug. 28 the same year saw 202 reports of crime against a street vendor in the city — an 18% increase over the 171 incidents in the same period in 2022. 

“From what we do hear, of that that we speak with, there is this animosity and fear,” Contto stressed. “So we’re also going to be adding to these classes talks about safety on the street.” 

Sacramento Code Enforcement Manager Shawn Bartosh attended the event to discuss code enforcement compliance and answer any questions from attendees. He argued that compliance is more important than enforcement, and that the city’s goal is to ensure vendors have the knowledge and tools needed to operate legally. 

“I think sidewalk vending is a good thing,” Bartosh emphasized. “It provides opportunities for folks to start their small business, which could potentially lead to bigger businesses later. There’s a legal way to do so, and that’s what we’re here for.” 

He said many of the street vendors breaking city ordinances are not doing so on purpose. Instead, they often aren’t aware of the rules and regulations, so he hopes these workshops address that. 

Recently, Elk Grove cracked down on illegal street food vendors after the city said it saw an increase in consumer complaints. Bartosh argued that instead of punishing street vendors for what is usually a lack of knowledge or understanding of the rules, Sacramento aims to educate them.  

“We’re here to give them guidance, answer any questions on how to get legally permitted so they can operate without fear of any citations or any kind of enforcement,” Bartosh said. “For those folks who just don’t know, this is the perfect opportunity for education, and we’d rather do the outreach and education than take enforcement action.” 

Furthermore, a California bill passed in 2018 legalized sidewalk vending statewide. The legislation mandates that no jurisdiction can criminally punish people for street vending and vendors may not be arrested for selling food without a health permit. 

A UC Davis study published in 2021 found that 85% of cities and 75% of counties include street food vending regulations researchers argued “go beyond public health rationale and include labor laws and restrictions on time and hours of operation.”

“Improving street food vending policy will allow vendors to operate more safely while also improving diet-related health through increasing the supply of low-cost fruits and vegetables and their consumption,” authors also wrote. 

Bartosh noted that Sacramento is working on ways to alleviate its food deserts and acknowledged that street vendors are “one of the smaller things that definitely helps in that situation.”

“We’re here to try to help them get permitted so they can be out there and start their business and provide that to the neighborhoods,” he said. 

For more information on Sacramento’s rules and regulations,  the city’s finance department has a sidewalk vending permit FAQ page on its website explaining the different types of sidewalk vending allowed in the city, the types of permits needed to become a sidewalk vendor and more. 

The Hispanic Chamber of Commerce plans to have two more street vendor workshops — one in October and another in November. More information will be available soon and can be found by visiting the chamber’s website. 

Community advocates are preparing to ask for feedback on a racial equity resolution for the city of Sacramento in listening sessions over the next six weeks. 

The sessions will inform the Sacramento Centered on Racial Equity (SCORE) Initiative, which began more than a year ago in an effort to improve the city’s structure, policies and procedures. 

Members of the community-based Racial Equity Council and Racial Equity Alliance, which lead the initiative, plan to facilitate the sessions. They aim to break down the resolution into pieces and explain their goals, said Jasmin Flores, a member of the council. 

“It’s going to take us quite a bit of time to get to where we want to be, but we want to be in a space that we can kind of help people to understand what this process looks like and how we get there,” Flores said. 

In the resolution, the council and alliance plan to include the history of racism of Sacramento and how racial discrimination has harmed communities. They also intend to define what racial equity could mean in the city and detail strategies to bring about changes, Flores said. Some tactics they have discussed include a racial equity report card, action plan or assessment tool. 

Kim Williams, a member of the Racial Equity Alliance, said they hope to hear from community organization leaders on whether they are moving in the right direction. 

“This resolution doesn’t work if [the] community doesn’t feel like they see themselves in it,” Williams said. “It’s very important for us to make sure that it represents all of our groups. And so that anyone who sees it can feel like, OK, I see myself or I see my issue or this resonates for me.” 

Alliance members also considered representation when they recruited, interviewed and selected people for the council in 2022, Williams said. The alliance formed out of a group of community organizations and advocates talking about racial equity since at least 2019, but the council was specifically created to help develop a city plan on the issue. 

Race Forward, a national racial justice non-profit organization, and the city’s Racial Equity Committee, made up of the mayor and three city council members, also support the SCORE Initiative. Council member Mai Vang co-chairs the committee and said the racial equity resolution is key. 

“It’s gonna guide our city council on how we govern, and that should be developed by the community,” Vang said. “And that's the reason why I'm so passionate about this initiative, but mainly also doing what I can to support our community folk because they're the one really leading it.”

Vang added that she hopes the groups will present a resolution to the council before the end of the year. A timeline on the city website listed summer 2023 as the target to finalize the resolution, but Williams said the Racial Equity Council and Racial Equity Alliance realized it would take more time. Considering members juggle full-time jobs, they slowed the pace to build trust with each other and the community, she said. 

“There’s the need to move things quickly and we want people to see that we’re making these strides to do this work,” Williams said. “But then there’s also the importance of if you don’t do it right, we’re going to create more trauma and more hurt.”

In the meantime, Vang said city staff have been staying in contact with the groups and building capacity so they are prepared to implement the resolution. She pointed to how staff began mandatory diversity training for elected city officials and the launch of the Sacramento Equity Explore Design (SEED) tool, which identifies underserved areas based on economic, education, social, health and sustainability issues.

Nia MooreWeathers, a member of the Racial Equity Alliance, said the SEED tool clearly breaks down what neighborhoods receive resources. 

“Sometimes being able to have a really stark visual like that is helpful to be able to outline and identify what equity is and how we can implement it in our cities,” MooreWeathers said. 

Flores added the racial equity resolution could build on the city’s existing programs, such as by proposing an assessment tool to examine how well they work together. 

The listening sessions on the racial equity resolution are scheduled as follows: 

For leaders of community-based organizations:

• Wednesday, July 24 from 12 p.m. to 1:30 p.m. 
  • Virtual 

For city residents: 

• Wednesday, Aug. 14 from 6 p.m. 8 p.m. 
  • Hagginwood Community Center: 3271 Marysville Blvd., Sacramento, CA 95815
• Wednesday, Aug. 21 from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m.  
  • Sam & Bonnie Pannell Community Center: 2450 Meadowview Rd., Sacramento, CA 95832
• Wednesday, Aug. 28 from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m.
  • Virtual 

The Racial Equity Alliance invites people to RSVP by filling out online forms for either the community organization session or the city resident meetings. Links to the virtual sessions will be sent via email. 

The alliance can be reached with questions at wearesacramento2024@gmail.com or (916) 272-1190.

California plans to spend up to $12 million on reparations legislation under a budget signed by Democratic Gov. Gavin Newsom, marking a milestone in the state's efforts to atone for a legacy of racism and discrimination against Black Californians.

The reparations funding in the $297.9 billion budget Newsom signed over the weekend does not specify what programs the money would go toward. Lawmakers are not considering widespread direct payments to Black Californians this year.

The state Legislature is weighing proposals to issue a formal apology for California's role in perpetuating discrimination against Black residents, to create an agency to administer reparations programs, and to identify families whose property was unjustly seized through eminent domain.

The funding comes after federal reparations efforts have stalled for decades.

“We often say the budget is a reflection of our values and our priorities, so the fact that there's any money for reparations should be a reason for celebrating,” said state Sen. Steven Bradford, a Los Angeles-area Democrat, noting he hoped the allocation would have been larger.

No state has gotten further along in its consideration of reparations proposals for Black residents than California, but some have made significant strides. Illinois and New York passed laws in recent years to study reparations proposals for African Americans. Florida passed a law in the 1990s creating a college scholarship fund for descendants of Black residents who were killed in a 1923 massacre initiated by a white mob.

But some opponents of reparations proposals being considered by lawmakers in California say taxpayers should not have to have to pay to address policies and practices from a long time ago.

“Slavery was a stain on our nation’s history, but I don’t believe it’s fair to try to right the wrongs on the past at the expense of the people today who did nothing wrong,” Assembly Republican Leader James Gallagher said in a statement. “More than a quarter of Californians are immigrants — how can we look at those people, who are struggling as it is, and say it’s on them to make up for something that happened more than 150 years ago?”

Senate President Pro Tempore Mike McGuire, a Democrat, said at an event Monday that “the $12 billion is not nearly enough” but that lawmakers worked closely to secure the money during a tough budget year.

It could cost the state between $3 million and $5 million annually to run the reparations agency, according to an estimate reported by the Assembly Committee on Appropriations. The Legislature hasn't released an estimated cost to implement the eminent domain bill, but the Senate Appropriations Committee said it could cost the state hundreds of thousands of dollars to investigate claims by families who say their land was taken because of racially discriminatory motives.

Bradford introduced proposals to give property tax and housing assistance to descendants of enslaved Black people, but those were blocked in May by a key committee.

Kamilah Moore, who chaired a first-in-the-nation state reparations task force, was disappointed that lawmakers also did not introduce legislation this year to provide free tuition at public colleges for descendants of enslaved Black people, which the group recommended in its final report.

But Moore said it was still “good news” to see $12 million for reparations included in the budget as a starting point.

“It means that they're taking accountability and responsibility, and they're acknowledging the harms and the atrocities to this particular population,” she said. “That's a huge step that should not be overlooked.”

Associated Press writer Trân Nguy?n contributed to this report.

One by one, a California prosecutor eliminated five out of six Black women from the jury pool for a death penalty case in which a white carpet cleaner slayed his client, a young mother.

The attorney in Alameda County had a reason for each dismissal. He believed one, for instance, appeared too reluctant to impose a death sentence. Another had a “liberal bent.” After the defense struck the last Black woman, the jury proceeded with no Black members even though Black people made up close to 15% of Alameda County’s population at the time.

That jury in February 2000 found Giles Albert Nadey guilty of murdering and sodomizing 24-year-old Terena Fermenick, and it sent him to death row. 

Twenty-four years later, the Alameda District Attorney’s office is in the hot seat for allegedly striking Black and Jewish people from juries around the time of Nadey’s sentencing. A federal judge two months ago ordered it to review all of its death penalty cases to look for signs of racial bias.

By Sophie Austin, The Associated Press/Report for America

The California Senate advanced a set of ambitious reparations proposals Tuesday, including legislation that would create an agency to help Black families research their family lineage and confirm their eligibility for any future restitution passed by the state.

Lawmakers also passed bills to create a fund for reparations programs and compensate Black families for property that the government unjustly seized from them using eminent domain. The proposals now head to the state Assembly.

State Sen. Steven Bradford, a Los Angeles-area Democrat, said California “bears great responsibility” to atone for injustices against Black Californians.

“If you can inherit generational wealth, you can inherit generational debt,” Bradford said. “Reparations is a debt that's owed to descendants of slavery.”

The proposals, which passed largely along party lines, are part of a slate of bills inspired by recommendations from a first-in-the-nation task force that spent two years studying how the state could atone for its legacy of racism and discrimination against African Americans. Lawmakers did not introduce a proposal this year to provide widespread payments to descendants of enslaved Black people, which has frustrated many reparations advocates.

In the U.S. Congress, a bill to study reparations for African Americans that was first introduced in the 1980s has stalled. Illinois and New York state passed laws recently to study reparations, but no other state has gotten further along than California in its consideration of reparations proposals for Black Americans.

California state Sen. Roger Niello, a Republican representing the Sacramento suburbs, said he supports “the principle” of the eminent domain bill, but he doesn't think taxpayers across the state should have to pay families for land that was seized by local governments.

“That seems to me to be a bit of an injustice in and of itself,” Niello said.

The votes come on the last week for lawmakers to pass bills in their house of origin, and days after a key committee blocked legislation that would have given property tax and housing assistance to descendants of enslaved people. The state Assembly advanced a bill last week that would make California formally apologize for its legacy of discrimination against Black Californians. In 2019, Democratic Gov. Gavin Newsom issued a formal apology for the state’s history of violence against and mistreatment of Native Americans.

Some opponents of reparations say lawmakers are overpromising on what they can deliver to Black Californians as the state faces a multibillion-dollar budget deficit.

“It seems to me like they’re putting, number one, the cart before the horse,” said Republican Assemblymember Bill Essayli, who represents part of Riverside County in Southern California. “They’re setting up these agencies and frameworks to dispense reparations without actually passing any reparations.”

It could cost the state up to $1 million annually to run the agency, according to an estimate by the Senate Appropriations Committee. The committee didn't release cost estimates for implementing the eminent domain and reparations fund bills. But the group says it could cost the state hundreds of thousands of dollars to investigate claims by families who say their land was taken because of racially discriminatory motives.

Chris Lodgson, an organizer with reparations-advocacy group the Coalition for a Just and Equitable California, said ahead of the votes that they would be “a first step” toward passing more far-reaching reparations laws in California.

“This is a historic day,” Lodgson said.

___

Austin is a corps member for The Associated Press/Report for America Statehouse News Initiative. Report for America is a nonprofit national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on undercovered issues. Follow Austin on the social platform X: @sophieadanna

For high school senior Robert McConnell, an acceptance to UC Santa Cruz would all but guarantee his attendance. That’s because, as a member of a federally recognized tribe, McConnell would not have to pay tuition to pursue his dreams of studying marine biology under the UC Native American Opportunity Plan. 

Launched in 2021, the University of California plan offers free tuition to any member of a federal or state-recognized Native American tribe who can provide proof of membership. McConnell, a member of the Hoopa Valley Tribe in rural Northern California, said an acceptance will grant him opportunities that aren’t available in his unincorporated tribal community. 

Over 85% of the residents in Hoopa identify as Native American or Alaskan Native. Leaving behind cultural and family support to attend far away institutions can be extremely difficult for Native students. The nearest UC campus to Hoopa is Davis, 200 miles away. 

For the low-to-middle income Native students of Hoopa, an opportunity to attend UC is invaluable. The reported monthly income for families in the small territory is just over $55,000 a year — qualifying many for federal and state tuition assistance. 

“It’s really easy to get stuck here in Hoopa Valley, in this little community,” McConnell said. Out of the nearly 3,000 residents of Hoopa, only about 16% have a bachelor’s degree.

But there is a caveat in the system’s opportunity plan — funds can only go toward paying tuition, not the non-tuition related expenses like housing and transportation that constitute the bulk of expenses for California students. Paying out of pocket for rent in expensive areas is especially daunting for prospective students like McConnell, who must relocate to pursue his education. 

Californians who identify as Native account for 1.7% of the population statewide, or around 660,000 people, according to 2022 census data. Across the UC system 1,788 Native students constitute 0.6% of the total student body. The California State University system enrolls around half the Native students UC does, with 833 students comprising 0.2% of enrollment in Fall 2023. The California Community Colleges enrolled 6,580 Native students in 2022-2023, around 0.3% of its total student population. None of these counts include Native Hawaiian students. 

Native students and campus administrators report that the UC is still a long way from being a place where Native students can thrive. Native high schoolers who spoke to CalMatters reported feeling hopeful about their admission, but currently enrolled Native students report that strains on their student budgets along with insufficient resources and a lack of Native faculty mentors has made their educational experience at the UC less enriching than they expected. 

Native American Opportunity Plan only covers tuition

Cedar Schaeffer, a third-year public health major at UC Irvine and member of the Round Valley Tribe, said the plan’s limits have had a large impact on his student budget. 

“It doesn’t cover housing. It doesn’t even cover the tech fee waiver at UC Irvine,” said Schaeffer, who grew up about 70 miles from Irvine on the Pala Band of Indians Reservation. “So there’s more than about $3,000 that I usually pay every year.” 

Like many other forms of financial aid, related college expenses such as housing and books are not covered by the plan. According to the California Student Aid Commission’s 2023-24 student expense budgets, non-tuition related costs can amount to an additional $5,000 a year for students in on-campus housing, on top of the dorm rent rates set by the campus. Non-tuition related costs can balloon up to $27,000 for off-campus students. 

The system estimated it would grant $2.4 million in tuition assistance to Native students in the 2022-23 term funded by state and federal grants. The Public Policy Institute of California estimated the funds assisted 500 undergraduates and 160 graduate students during the first term. 

In Hoopa Valley, McConnell said the financial aid he expects to receive would already cover tuition costs, meaning he could not use the plan’s tuition waiver. To afford the cost of living 400 miles away in pricey Santa Cruz, McConnell said outside scholarship assistance will be vital.

Amanda Putnam, a Native American Recruitment & Outreach specialist at UC Merced, said she doesn’t believe the current plan fully accomplishes the UC’s goal of making its campuses more accessible and affordable for Native students. She said non-tuition costs alone could dissuade many students from considering the UC.

“It’s daunting to have $10,000 to $15,000 to even $20,000 of housing facing them,” Putnam said. “I would say that that’s probably the biggest portion, about half the (current) students.” 

UCs lack Native resources and representation 

Even accounting for the rise in admissions, Indigenous students composed 1% of total UC student admissions in 2022-23. Systemwide, Native-identifying faculty and teaching assistants represent about 219 of the 73,024 total at the UC, just over 0.3% as of October 2023. 

Schaeffer himself was informed by a family member that applying to the UC could possibly save him thousands, and UC Irvine was a more affordable option compared to his alternatives on the East Coast. But Schaeffer said that once he arrived at UC Irvine, he was appalled at the lack of Native representation on campus. Schaeffer said he was surprised at the amount of work Native student groups are expected to put in to organize events and garner additional community resources. 

“Representation really is a huge factor,” he said. “When you don’t have your community on campus, you’re less motivated to continue on. I know a lot of people feel unsupported on campus, and I’ve even thought about transferring to another institution.” 

The rise in Native enrollment has shifted the focus of administrators and faculty onto providing more support for potential and current Native students, according to Pheonecia Bauerle, chair of the UC-wide Native American Advisory Council and director of Native student development at UC Berkeley.

“It shows the [plan] encourages more people to apply,” she said. “As we’re getting more students, I’m trying to ramp up on creating frameworks for how to understand, how to serve the students. When you have small numbers, it’s usually how it starts.” 

Eight UCs have created spaces to foster a closer Native student community. UC Irvine and UC Merced are the only two campuses who have yet to establish a physical, on-campus resource center for Native students that is run by faculty or staff.

First: Students take part in an Easter related gathering at the Native American Academic Student Success Center at UC Davis on April 1, 2024. Last: A bulletin board in a hallway near the dorm rooms of Native American students at Yosemite Hall at UC Davis on April 1, 2024.José Luis Villegas for CalMatters

Putnam, at UC Merced, said a lack of funding compared to other, more established UCs has limited the resources she’s able to offer her Native students. According to Bauerle, even the oldest UC in the system, UC Berkeley, only expanded the multicultural center to add a Native student wing when she was hired 10 years ago.

“We’re not at the place yet of establishing any programs or things like that,” Putnam said. “The funding just isn’t there yet. Me being able to be that one-on-one support for students has been huge.”

Native students are filling gaps in programming 

Some students have taken action themselves to fill the void in resources and programming. On UCLA’s campus, Native student groups coordinate on-campus events with the Native American Studies department and the campus administration, but organize most of their own cultural events, recruitment efforts and informational tables.

Maya Araujo — a fourth-year American Indian Studies major and vice president of the Native American Indigenous Student Association at UCLA — said resources are primarily offered by students. 

“We are in contact with (administrators), but it’s kind of like nagging them,” Araujo said. “It’s kind of difficult to get resources, even from our American Indian Studies Center… It’s mostly like us advocating for ourselves.”

Without student intervention, the resources for Native students on campus wouldn’t be enough, Araujo added. Even at UCLA, where the Native student population is the largest by number at the UC at 321 students in Fall 2023, Araujo said there is little representation among faculty. UCLA employed 15 Native faculty members in Fall 2022. 

Students at other UCs have even less communication with administration. Christine Frazier, a fourth-year student studying ecology, behavior and evolution at UC San Diego and a member of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe, said students arrange most of their own events and cultural celebrations. 

“Any Native events, whether that be Native American and/or the Intertribal Resource Center, it’s mostly Natives who go or work there,” Frazier said. 

Difficulties in recruiting Native students

One of the reasons Frazier decided to attend UC San Diego was because of a connection she made with a member of the Intertribal Resource Center on campus during her UC application process. Upon arriving, Frazier — who now co-chairs the Native American and Indigenous Student Alliance — was shocked to find virtually no representation outside of meetings with Native student groups.

“We’re definitely a small number there, especially with my club,” she said. “Most of the time, I’m one of the only Indigenous or Native students in really any setting, except when I’m at these Intertribal Resource Center or Native American and Indigenous Student Association events.”

It would be difficult to attract more Native students to the UC without established student, faculty or administrative representation, Frazier said. In her four years at UC San Diego, she has only had one Native professor and rarely communicates with administrators. Currently, 0.2% of faculty members  at UC San Diego are Native. 

Each UC attracts a unique student and faculty base, which means individual campuses have to emphasize distinct recruitment efforts, Bauerle said. At UC Berkeley, Bauerle focuses her recruitment through the many Native organizations in the Bay Area, such as the Intertribal Friendship House in Oakland — one of the first Native community centers in the state. 

“Fewer Native students come from reservations and more are growing up in urban, suburban or rural areas,” Bauerle said. “Their experience with communities is going to look a lot different and so it means to adjust how we offer programs and meet students where they’re at.”

At UC Merced, Puntam said recruitment is more concentrated on reservations; she attends powwows and interacts directly with tribes like the Yokuts and Miwuk in the areas surrounding Merced to attract Native students. 

The UC’s plans for the future 

Some faculty and students point to UC Davis as a model for serving Native students. The campus has two dedicated programs: the Native American Academic Student Success Center and the Native American Retention Initiative Program.

Student resource centers, scholarship opportunities and community-driven events can make the difference for prospective Native students. For example, McConnell said UC Davis’ shared interest communities are a primary reason for his application. Shared interest communities are living and learning spaces for certain student groups, like Native students, to congregate and explore their cultures and history. Around 390 students, most but not all Native, live together in the Yosemite dormitory at UC Davis as part of the Native shared interest community. 

The rest of the UC campuses would like to take a more aggressive approach to Native student recruitment and tribal partnerships, though no official timelines have been set, Bauerle said. She added that each UC campus will likely be taking a unique approach that benefits their individual student base.

“Davis, a little bit at Berkeley, UCLA, San Diego, they’re partnering with tribes in different capacities, and allowing graduate students to see opportunities to do work with Indigenous communities,” Bauerle said. 

Additionally, the UC has work to do reconciling relationships with Native tribes by cataloging and returning Native ancestral remains and artifacts that campuses have in their possession. Multiple state audit reports found the UC system lacked the policies, urgency and staffing to comply with Native repatriation laws. 

Some progress is being made, including new policies governing repatriation the UC issued in 2021. Last October, UC Berkeley also took the first step to return 4,400 Native remains and 25,000 Native cultural artifacts to California tribes in what would be the largest repatriation for the campus to date. 

Bauerle is advocating for universal recruitment and retention standards across the UC that cater to all Native students, regardless of their campus. “Not all campuses look the same or have the same resources that they’re able to provide,” she said.

Schaeffer said what he’d like to see most is for UC administrators to play a larger role in assuring that Native students have proper resources and directories for those resources on campuses.

“I think for the future, we really want to be able to look towards leadership on campus — the chancellor, the deans, those administration positions,” Schaeffer said. “We really want to be able to ask them for help, not have those barriers of, ‘Oh, we’re out of office,’ or, ‘I’m gonna refer you to someone else.” 

Buchanan is a fellow with the College Journalism Network, a collaboration between CalMatters and student journalists from across California. CalMatters higher education coverage is supported by a grant from the College Futures Foundation.

California's Yurok Tribe, which had 90% of its territory taken from it during the Gold Rush of the mid-1800s, will be getting a slice of its land back to serve as a new gateway to Redwood National and State Parks visited by 1 million people a year.

The Yurok will be the first Native people to manage tribal land with the National Park Service under a historic memorandum of understanding signed Tuesday by the tribe, Redwood National and State Parks and the nonprofit Save the Redwoods League.

The tribe will take ownership in 2026 of 125 acres near the tiny Northern California community of Orick in Humboldt County after restoration of a local tributary, Prairie Creek, is complete under the deal. The site will introduce visitors to Yurok customs, culture and history, the tribe said.

This drone photo taken Monday, Jan. 29, 2024, shows the site of a salmon restoration project at Prairie Creek, which runs from Redwood National and State Parks, Calif., and flows through land that will be returned to the Yurok Tribe.AP Photo/Terry Chea, File

The area is home to the world’s tallest trees — some reaching more than 350 feet. It's about a mile from the Pacific coast and adjacent to the Redwood National and State Parks, which includes one national park and three California state parks totaling nearly 132,000 acres.

The return of the land — named ’O Rew in the Yurok Language — more than a century after it was stolen from California's largest tribe — is proof of the “sheer will and perseverance of the Yurok people," said Rosie Clayburn, the tribe's cultural resources director. "We kind of don’t give up.”

For the tribe, redwoods are considered living beings and traditionally only fallen trees have been used to build their homes and canoes.

“As the original stewards of this land, we look forward to working together with the Redwood National and State Parks to manage it,” Clayburn said. “This is work that we’ve always done, and continued to fight for, but I feel like the rest of world is catching up right now and starting to see that Native people know how to manage this land the best.”

The property is at the heart of the tribe's ancestral land and was taken in the 1800s to exploit its old-growth redwoods and other natural resources, the tribe said. Save the Redwoods League bought the property in 2013 and began working with the tribe and others to restore it.

Much of the property was paved over by a lumber operation that worked there for 50 years and also buried Prairie Creek, where salmon would swim upstream from the Pacific to spawn.

This drone photo taken on Monday, Jan. 29, 2024, shows a salmon restoration project at Prairie Creek, which runs from Redwood National and State Parks, Calif., and flows through land that will be returned to the Yurok Tribe.AP Photo/Terry Chea

A growing Land Back movement has been returning Indigenous homelands to the descendants of those who lived there for millennia before European settlers arrived. That has seen Native American tribes taking a greater role in restoring rivers and lands to how they were before they were expropriated.

Last week, a 2.2-acre parking lot was returned to the Ohlone people where they established the first human settlement beside San Francisco Bay 5,700 years ago. In 2022, more than 500 acres of redwood forest on the Lost Coast were returned the InterTribal Sinkyone Wilderness Council, a group of 10 tribes.

The ’O Rew property represents just a tiny fraction of the more than 500,000 acres of the ancestral land of the Yurok, whose reservation straddles the lower 44 miles of the Klamath River. The Yurok tribe is also helping lead efforts in the largest dam removal project in U.S. history along the California-Oregon border to restore the Klamath and boost the salmon population.

Plans for 'O Rew include a traditional Yurok village of redwood plank houses and a sweat house. There also will be a new visitor and cultural center displaying scores of sacred artefacts from deerskins to baskets that have been returned to the tribe from university and museum collections, Clayburn said.

The center, which will include information on the redwoods and forest restoration, also will serve as a hub for the tribe to carry out their traditions, she said.

It will add more than a mile of new trails, including a new segment of the California Coastal Trail, with interpretive exhibits. The trails will connect to many of the existing trails inside the parks, including to popular old-growth redwood groves.

The tribe had already been restoring salmon habitat for three years on the property, building a meandering stream channel, two connected ponds and about 20 acres of floodplain while dismantling a defunct mill site. Crews also planted more than 50,000 native plants, including grass-like slough sedge, black cottonwood and coast redwood trees.

Coordinating stewardship throughout the entire watershed with the National Park Service and California State Parks is key to restoring these fish runs, the tribe said.

Jamie Holt, lead fisheries technician for the Yurok Tribe, right, and Gilbert Myers count dead chinook salmon pulled from a trap in the lower Klamath River, on June 8, 2021, in Weitchpec, Calif.AP Photo/Nathan Howard, File

Salmon were once abundant in rivers and streams running through these redwood forests, But dams, logging, development and drought — due in part to climate change — have destroyed the waterways and threatened many of these species. Last year recreational and commercial king salmon fishing seasons were closed along much of the West Coast due to near-record low numbers of the iconic fish returning to their spawning grounds.

Thousands of juvenile coho and chinook salmon and steelhead have already returned to Prairie Creek along with red-legged frogs, northwestern salamanders, waterfowl and other species.

Redwoods National Park Superintendent Steve Mietz praised the restoration of the area and its return to the tribe, saying it is “healing the land while healing the relationships among all the people who inhabit this magnificent forest.”

This story was published in partnership with the Guardian.

‘Please let me live’ 

On a Thursday morning in October 2020, less than five months after George Floyd was held on his stomach by Minneapolis police until he died, Shayne Sutherland called 911 from a convenience store in Stockton, California, and asked for a taxi. 

When the operator told Sutherland he’d dialed 911, he said someone was trying to rob him. 

Stockton Police Officers Ronald Zalunardo and John Afanasiev arrived at the store about 15 minutes later. In the meantime, a store employee had called 911, saying Sutherland was threatening him with a wine bottle.  

In body camera footage that captured the officers’ response, Sutherland seems fidgety, and his speech is difficult to understand at times, but he doesn’t appear violent, and he isn’t armed. He cooperates with police, addressing Zalunardo as “sir” and sitting against a wall outside the store as instructed.

The officers question Sutherland. When he tells them he can’t remember why he’s under court supervision, Afanasiev says, “The drugs probably have something to do with it.” 

“How long you been using meth,” Zalnunardo asks. Sutherland stutters and says he's been using cocaine.

Sutherland briefly stands, then sits when ordered to do so. A minute later, he stands up again. This time, the officers tackle him to the ground and hold him belly-down — a position known as prone restraint. Thirty seconds later, his hands are cuffed behind his back.

That could have been the end of the encounter. Experts say prone restraint can be a safe, effective way to subdue someone and get them into handcuffs — so long as they’re quickly placed in a “recovery position” on their side or in a seated position to allow them to breathe more easily.

But Zalunardo and Afanasiev didn’t do that. The body camera footage shows them holding Sutherland belly-down for more than eight minutes. For nearly half that time, Afanasiev lays across Sutherland’s back. Sutherland panics, alternating between moaning and screaming for help as Zalunardo, who uses his baton and body weight to help keep Sutherland’s shoulder down, repeatedly tells him, “Relax!” 

“Please let me breathe,” Sutherland begs, his voice barely decipherable. In between shrieks and gasps, he calls out, “Mom!” He begs for help. “Please let me live.”

Before the officers notice that he’s turning colors and losing consciousness, Sutherland, his mouth bloody from being slammed and scraped against the ground, sputters: “I’m f—ing dead.” 

Another five-and-half minutes pass before officers roll Sutherland onto his side and begin to render aid. 

Sutherland was declared dead 47 minutes later at a hospital.

Exclusive Findings: ‘It's deeply concerning’

As far back as the 1990s, medical experts and law enforcement officials have been aware of the dangers of prone restraint. A number of organizations and law enforcement agencies, including the U.S. Department of Justice, the Chicago Police Department and the New Orleans Police Department, warned officers of these dangers and advised them on how to minimize risks. 

Many training manuals have since been updated to address the risks of prone restraint and the importance of using the recovery position. Ohio State Police officers are forbidden from using prone restraint. A Nevada law forbids the practice. In California, a law that became effective in 2022, AB 490, bans any maneuvers that put people at risk of being unable to breathe due to the position of their body, or positional asphyxia, a common cause of death in prone restraint cases. 

But a new review of law enforcement data shows that, despite growing awareness of the dangers of prone restraint, in California, the problem is pervasive. After the passage of AB 71 in 2015, California began tracking data about when people died after police use of force. Between 2016 and 2022, at least 22 people have died in the state after being restrained stomach-down by law enforcement officers, according to a new analysis of currently available state use-of-force data by the California Reporting Project, The California Newsroom, and the Guardian. Our examination also included police reports, death investigations, district attorney reviews, body-worn camera footage, 911 calls and lawsuits. 

Other key findings:

• Nineteen of the 22 people who died following prone restraint tested positive for meth.
• Five died after May 2020, when Minneapolis police killed George Floyd.
• Two of those people died after AB 490 went into effect.
• All 22 cases involved people in crisis — either struggling with addiction, mental illness or otherwise behaving erratically.

• Almost half of those who died were Latino, followed by white people — a trend that reflects larger use-of-force data in California. 
• Two of those who died were armed, but not with guns.

“We really shouldn't have any of these deaths,” said Seth W. Stoughton, a former police officer in Tallahassee, Florida, who teaches criminal law and procedure at the University of South Carolina’s Joseph F. Rice School of Law. “Any time there's prolonged prone restraint, something's going wrong. It should not happen.” 

“My general disgust [is] that we're still having to talk about this,” he said. ”It's a little depressing that we're coming up on 30 years of making the same mistake over and over again. That's really frustrating.”

“It's deeply concerning to learn about the deaths of individuals in California due to positional asphyxia, even after it was banned by AB 490,” wrote California Assemblymember Mike Gipson, who was the primary author of the bill, in an emailed response to the findings. “These incidents underscore the urgent need for comprehensive training and accountability measures within law enforcement agencies.”

Others who have died following prone restraint by California police officers between 2016 and 2022 include:

• Isabel De La Torre, died on March 26, 2022, after her partner, who was five months pregnant, called 911 in Clovis, California, because she believed De La Torre was unconscious, according to official records and court documents. When De La Torre awoke, her partner hung up the phone, but Clovis police officers responded anyway. De La Torre tried to turn the officers away, hiding in a bathroom, writhing and screaming, allegedly holding a knife. When she came out of the room, officers ordered a police dog to bite her, bringing her to the ground, where officers handcuffed her and held her in the prone position for more than three minutes. She died of positional and compressional asphyxia due to prone restraint, according to the Fresno County Sheriff-Coroner. Her family sued the department for wrongful death and is set to receive a $1.9 million settlement.

• Mario Gonzalez, who died on April 19, 2021, in Alameda, California. When police responded to a call about a man sitting in a park and talking to himself, officials said they found Gonzalez so intoxicated he couldn’t speak in full sentences. He refused to take his hands out of his pockets, according to official reports, leading two officers to hold him down on his stomach while another held his legs. Body camera footage of the incident shows officers repeatedly telling each other not to put too much force on him, but they continued to hold him prone after he was handcuffed. He died of the “toxic effects of methamphetamine” after suffering a cardiopulmonary arrest, according to the Alameda County Coroner's Bureau. His family sued the city of Alameda, the officers involved in Gonzalez’s death and the police chief at the time and won a settlement of $11 million. In 2023, the Alameda County district attorney reopened her office’s investigation into whether the officers acted criminally.

• Edward Bronstein, who died on March 31, 2020, in Altadena, near Los Angeles. California Highway Patrol officers had detained Bronstein in an L.A. County station on suspicion of driving under the influence. When Bronstein declined to give a blood sample, officers forced him face down onto a mat, at which point he said, “I’ll do it willingly,” a video of the incident shows. An officer can be heard saying, “It’s too late.” Five officers continued to pin Bronstein to the ground. As they drew blood, Bronstein screamed, “I can’t breathe” and "Let me breathe" multiple times before his breathing and pulse stopped. Officers performed CPR to no avail. In 2023, the Los Angeles County district attorney charged a CHP sergeant, six officers and a nurse with involuntary manslaughter and assault under the color of authority. His family was awarded a $24 million settlement in a civil wrongful death suit.

And there may be more deaths beyond the 22 we found. While the state receives data from law enforcement agencies for deaths that occur after police use of force, it isn't necessarily complete. That’s because agencies don't always submit data to the state as they're required to do, or data is otherwise excluded from the state’s use-of-force database. For example, Angelo Quinto died in 2020 after Antioch police officers held him prone, but his case is not in the database. Gipson, the assemblymember, said Quinto's death was the impetus for the new legislation.

Despite the passage of AB 490, training manuals for the Antioch Police Department, Stanislaus County Sheriff’s Department and the Sonoma County Sheriff’s Department say that positional asphyxia is "the subject of debate among experts and medical professionals.” 

The science of prone restraint: ‘You're just watching a preventable death’

When a person is lying prone on a hard surface, their chest cavity is compressed and breathing becomes difficult, especially when their hands are cuffed behind their backs. Add the body weight of one or more police officers, and compression increases, restricting the movement of the ribcage and diaphragm, which are vital for the inhalation of oxygen and exhalation of carbon dioxide. The lack of proper ventilation puts stress on many parts of the body, including the heart, as noted in a 2002 study by Disability Rights California. 

The warnings go even further back. In a 1995 bulletin, the U.S. Department of Justice cautioned law enforcement officers about the deadliness of positional asphyxia. “As soon as the suspect is handcuffed, get him off his stomach,” it reads. 

The bulletin outlines how subjects on drugs are at higher risk of death in the position, noting that “cocaine-induced bizarre or frenzied behavior… may increase a subject’s susceptibility to sudden death by effecting an increase of the heart rate to a critical level.” It also said that “drugs and/or alcohol” pose a “major risk factor” because “subjects may not realize they are suffocating.” 

The bulletin explains that suspects restrained in a prone position often appear to be resisting officers when, in fact, they’re fighting, perhaps involuntarily, to get oxygen and carbon dioxide in and out of their bodies as their chest is squeezed. As the memo reads: “The individual experiences increased difficulty breathing. The natural reaction to oxygen deficiency occurs — the person struggles more violently. The officer applies more compression to subdue the individual.”  

“It's horrible because you're just watching a preventable death, and you know the person's suffering,” said Dr. Alon Steinberg, a California cardiologist who studies prone restraint and has viewed hours of footage of people being held stomach-down by police. 

Steinberg, who serves as an expert witness, believes that cardiac arrests following prone restraint might be caused by more than just a lack of oxygen in the heart muscle. When someone can adequately breathe, the expulsion of carbon dioxide regulates the level of acid in the blood. But when breathing and blood flow are restricted, acid can build and cause cardiac arrest, as Steinberg and forensic pathologists Dr. Victor Weedn and Dr. Peter Speth proposed in a 2022 study. 

Dr. Daniel Wohlgelernter, a cardiologist who has also testified in a number of prone-restraint cases, agrees. He pointed out that putting someone in prone restraint when they are in a hyperactive state — as people often are when on stimulants or in crisis — can exacerbate acidosis and cause a “double whammy.” 

“We have carbon dioxide accumulation, development of lethal or potentially lethal metabolic acidosis at the same time that we have deprivation of oxygen,” he said.

Despite widespread agreement about the dangers of positional asphyxia caused by prone restraint, some studies have argued that the restriction of airflow caused by prone restraint is not, in most cases, enough to kill. 

Medical and legal experts have pointed out flaws in the studies, which have been done on healthy, sober individuals in police-free environments and don’t duplicate a real-life prone-restraint scenario. 

“Studies like that, if they actually had the potential to kill anyone, would never be approved by an institutional review board,” said Joanna Naples-Mitchell, an attorney with Physicians for Human Rights. “So it's not something that's actually possible to model in the real world in a safe way.”

Sorting out causes of death: ‘Alive and fine’

Of the 22 deaths we found where people died after being held stomach-down, coroners and medical examiners attributed acute methamphetamine toxicity to 10 deaths. Coroners are usually elected, and few places require them to have a medical background. 

Wohlgelernter and Steinberg are skeptical of those determinations. Both were adamant that in the prone restraint cases they’ve reviewed, methamphetamine, on its own, was not to blame for deaths. 

“In no cases did I see that the individuals were destined to die on that day, if not for the interaction with law enforcement and the prone restraint compressive asphyxia,” Wohlgelernter said.

Steinberg pointed out that while people can overdose on meth, those who wind up dead after being restrained face down were “alive and fine” before they had a run-in with police. 

“They're alive beforehand. They're alive for a few minutes in the prone position, and then after a prolonged episode of restraint, people die,” he said. 

Dr. Odey Ukpo, chief medical examiner-coroner for Los Angeles County, where seven deaths following prone restraint were attributed to meth use or toxicity, said it’s more complicated. 

“What some people don’t realize is that a cause-of-death [determination] is a medical opinion,” he said. “It’s based on deductive reasoning.”

For instance, Ukpo said he looks for signs of petechiae, a dot-like pattern of blood in the eyes or on the gums, before ruling whether someone died of asphyxia. 

To Seth Stoughton, the University of South Carolina law professor and former police officer, who wrote an amicus brief about the dangers of positional asphyxia that was submitted to the U.S. Supreme Court in 2022, causes of death are beside the point. Prone restraint, he argues, is so easy to perform safely that it should never lead to deaths in the first place, no matter who’s being restrained. 

“Whether they're dying of oxygen deprivation or metabolic acidosis is irrelevant,” he said. “People are still dying! And if you flip them over to their side, they don’t!”

Stoughton served as an expert witness in the case against Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin for the murder of George Floyd. He says that if officers take the proper precautions to manage the scene and protect themselves, someone in handcuffs on their side is not a great danger.

“We're talking about literally the difference between taking someone from their stomach and rolling them 90 degrees onto their side,” he said. “If there is any increase in risk at all [to officers], it is so marginal that it is vastly outweighed by the potential of saving that person's life.”

In addition to training officers to use the recovery position as a matter of routine, experts say officers can keep an eye out for warning signs when restraining people prone. 

Wohlgelernter says officers should watch for changes in alertness, speech or physical movements.

Steinberg argues that the use of prone restraint should be limited. 

Justin M. Feldman, principal research scientist at the Center for Policing Equity, said that some incidents escalate because of officers’ bias against people who abuse drugs. 

“I think they fundamentally don't respect people they view as addicts or tweakers or whatever the pejorative might be, and treat them accordingly without respect for their lives,” Feldman said.

For Peter Moskos, a criminologist with John Jay College of Criminal Justice and former Baltimore police officer, there should be a greater focus on preventing the events that lead people into the hands of police by getting them the help they need, such as jobs, housing, drug treatment and mental health care.

“At some point, it would have been nice if someone could have pulled a switch track and diverted that person, whether it's community, family, other government agencies, anything,” he said. “But once you get to that point [of a police encounter], it's kind of too late to offer an ideal solution.”

‘He knew he was dying’

The San Joaquin County medical examiner’s office determined that Shayne Sutherland’s cause of death was cardiac arrest due to “acute methamphetamine toxicity” with a contributing factor of “physical restraint by law enforcement.” In other words, meth, not police, was primarily responsible for Sutherland’s death. 

Sutherland’s family wasn’t satisfied with the medical examiner’s findings or with the Stockton Police Department’s response to his death. In October 2021, they filed a federal civil rights lawsuit against the city of Stockton, Officers Zalunardo and Afanasiev and former Stockton Police Chief Eric Jones. The suit alleges wrongful death, excessive force and interfering with Sutherland’s constitutional rights by force.

“They did not have that right to judge him that morning,” his mother, Karen Sutherland, said. “They did not have that right to do what they did.”

Families of people in California who have died following prone restraint have won at least $41 million in civil suits across the state, according to court documents and press reports.

In the year leading up to her son’s death, Karen managed to get Shayne into rehab for a stint, but finding mental health care and ongoing treatment was a struggle. When people like Shayne reach out for help, she said, “They're turned away, or they're told they have to wait.” 

Shayne Sutherland and his mother, Karen, in 2019.Courtesy of Karen Sutherland

“[But] when you have a mental health problem, you can't wait,” she said.

Last December, Karen pulled into Park View Cemetery in Manteca — about 20 minutes south of Stockton — and walked to her son’s grave. Sitting on a blanket, she talked about Shayne’s life: his “teddy bear” lovability; the fishing and camping trips with his two kids, Shayne Jr., 8, and Demi, 7; coaching the Manteca Chargers youth football team. 

She talked about the hard times, too: the cocaine and meth addiction; the split with the mother of his children; the “little, petty, stupid, whatever crimes” that, she said, “are in no way in any comparison of any type of magnitude of the crime that those two police officers committed that day when they killed my son.”

“I've always been able to handle things,” she said. “I'm a very strong person, but not when this happened. This broke me — completely shattered me.”

After Shayne’s death, Stockton PD determined that Zalunardo and Afanasiev acted within policy. The only issue the investigation raised was that Zalunardo left his baton “unsecured on the ground near the suspect” when administering aid.

The Stockton Police Department did not respond to our requests for comments and interviews with the officers. 

Karen has watched the footage of Shayne's final encounter with police. But she says she’ll never turn on the sound, because others have told her what she’d have to hear. 

“He knew he was dying,” she said. “He was being tortured. And knowing that tortures me every second, man. Every second.”

Karen chose this particular grave site because of the morning sun that hits it each day. She’s come to believe that God reached down to stop Shayne’s suffering — not just at the hands of police, but in life. 

In the winter sunshine, the top of Shayne’s headstone reads: “God reached down and rescued me.” 

How we reported this story

Since the 1990s, experts have warned that restraining someone prone, or on their stomach, can kill them. When someone is agitated, on stimulants or acting erratically, they are also more likely to die if officers use prone restraint, according to medical experts. Former police officers and criminologists say that putting someone on their side or seated after they’re handcuffed saves lives.

In 2020, Antioch police officers held Angelo Quinto down on his stomach after responding to a call from his family. His death inspired California legislation, which went into effect in 2022, that prohibits officers from using techniques such as prone restraint that “involve a substantial risk of positional asphyxia.”

The California Newsroom and The California Reporting Project wanted to better understand how many people were dying after officers used prone restraint in the Golden State.

Since the passage of state law AB 71, California law enforcement agencies submit anonymized data to the state Department of Justice’s Use of Force Incident Reporting database when officers seriously injure or kill people. That data contains information listing the types of force officers used and whether someone died. Currently, the data includes incidents that occurred from 2016 to 2022. Although people can die from prone restraint after being otherwise injured, we wanted to focus on cases where the cause of death was more clear. We filtered the data to incidents where someone died and officers used a control hold but did not use a gun, Taser or carotid restraint. Outside of carotid holds, the data does not distinguish between specific types of restraint.

To better identify the decedents, reporters then combined the use-of-force data with data from California’s Death In-Custody database. To ascertain whether officers specifically used prone restraint on those decedents, we used public record requests to obtain records and body camera footage from law enforcement agencies, district attorneys, medical examiner/coroners and oversight agencies about the incidents. We also obtained lawsuits in cases where loved ones sued local authorities. Two people reviewed those records, and an editor checked that work. We were unable to obtain enough records on four people’s deaths and excluded them from our analysis. Through our reporting, we determined five were incorrectly marked as not having been tased and removed them from our analysis. We also found that two people did not clearly die after a prone restraint and cut them from our analysis.

However, we know that this data was incomplete because it did not include Angelo Quinto. We had records showing that officers used prone restraint, so we included him in our analysis despite his not appearing in the state’s use-of-force data.

Justin Feldman, principal research scientist at the Center for Policing Equity, says that it’s not uncommon for prone restraint deaths to go unreported. In a study, he found that in more than half the cases when police kill someone, it’s not documented on the death certificate and so may not be properly recorded.

Feldman said the “number one predictor” of misreported deaths was when officers didn’t shoot someone, such as when they used prone restraint or a Taser.

Two police departments would not release police reports to the California Reporting Project because the death investigations found the men died of other causes, such as methamphetamine toxicity.

Additional reporting by Bella Arnold, Hanisha Harjani, Simmerdeep Kaur, Grace Marion, Adam Solorzano and Krissy Waite of Berkeley Journalism’s Investigative Reporting Program; Leila Barghouty, Jacqueline Munis and Camryn Pak of Stanford University's Big Local News; and Brian Krans of The California Newsroom.  

The California Newsroom is a collaboration of public media outlets throughout the state, with NPR as its national partner. The California Reporting Project collected police records. 

This project was completed with the support of a grant from Columbia University's Ira A. Lipman Center for Journalism and Civil and Human Rights in conjunction with Arnold Ventures.