WARRIOR LIFE
2025

5 Trinkets to fair up your essentials
SPIRITUAL JOURNEY: Islamic pilgrimage to Mecca
THE HAIRAPIST IS IN: A mother’s experience with freelancing and cancer
2025
5 Trinkets to fair up your essentials
SPIRITUAL JOURNEY: Islamic pilgrimage to Mecca
THE HAIRAPIST IS IN: A mother’s experience with freelancing and cancer
05 One in Maximillian
Read about how this El Camino student turned his love for fashion into a career as a social media infuencer.
10 Weeding It Out
How one student overcame his addiction to marijuana partly to due running out of money and weed.
12 Spritual Journey
How a seven day trip to Mecca transformed this writer’s life and helped her fnd peace in the unknown.
14 Two Shades of Blue
Mentorship remains the same, even in diferent uniforms for this law enforcement veteran.
21 Saving Face
Protect the skin you’re in with these El Camino College esthetician students’ favorite sunscreens.
22 Coding to Journalism
Read how this student discovered a passion by trusting herself instead of the opinions around her.
24 The United Skates
How this El Camino student success counselor continues to lead and mentor others through roller derby.
30 Winning Isn’t Everything
How a track injury led to a snap in the hamstring, family, ties and later led to emotional healing.
32 Cage-Free California
How a community’s response illustrates how transformative justice can end mass incarceration.
34 Court Report
Visit these fve pickleball locations in the South Bay the next time you’re feeling active.
36 The Hairapist is in
The experience of a freelance cosmetologist who is a single-mother and cancer survivor.
42 Pinoy Pride
For one Filipino-American, growing up surrounded by diferent cultures led to a journey of isolation and rediscovery.
44 Iron Maiden
See what happens when this student decides to put a video game character’s workout routine to the test.
46 Dishing It Up
Whip up this delicious meal using ingredients obtained from El Camino College’s Warrior Pantry.
48 Lowing Low
Even as the White House tries to instill fear, colleges and universities remain a safe space for immigrant students.
53 Acai What You Did
Check out these fve acai bowl places in the South Bay for your next refreshing snack.
54 Terminal Connection
How this student communicated with his father better after becoming coworkers with him at LAX.
56 COVID Changed Me
How COVID retriggered her childhood asthma and the struggles this writer deals with on a daily basis.
58 Speaking Of Her
How four El Camino College students formed a band after meeting each other on campus.
63 Clicks on Campus
These are the top 15 most visited websites by El Camino students, staf and faculty on campus
64 Making Of A Composer
Read about how this El Camino student discovered his passion and musical talent.
69 Trinkets To Go
From bag charms to laptop accessories, here are the top five blind boxes to bring and use on campus.
70 Poodle Support System
After the losing one of her parents, this writer’s poodle became an emotional support system for her.
To Read More Stories Scan This QR Code
Afew years ago, I never thought I would be working in a newsroom, let alone writing this letter as an editor. Storytelling was not what I envisioned until I was faced with some life-changing events, bringing me back to El Camino.
Spending nearly four years with the journalism program was the best decision I ever made, as it gave me clear direction and something I can truly believe in.
I found more than direction. Some of my good friends are the same people I’ve worked shoulder to shoulder with in our newsroom. Khoury, Delfino, Brittany, Angel, Ethan and others I can’t name here - you’ve made my time here so meaningful. Thank you for always having my back.
Stefanie, you’ve been so instrumental in my development as a journalist, being that steady guide through every challenge. Your belief in me is what drove me to continue to come back every semester. You’ve pushed me to be better, held me accountable and given me a newfound sense of purpose. Thank you for having my back.
Editor-in-Chief: Greg Fontanilla
Managing Editor: Angel Pasillas
Copy Editor: Erica Lee
Assistant Copy Editor: Elise Fauni
Staff Writers: Eddy Cermeno, Kaitlyn Gochez, Kim McGill, Isaac Ramirez, Dani Rose Reyes, Tina Talley, Rosemarie Turay, Jamila Zaki
Photographers: Eddy Cermeno, Bret Fast, Greg Fontanilla, Erica Lee, Kim McGill, Angel Pasillas, Dani Rose Reyes, Mario Trejos, Nikki Yunker
Illustrators: Ada Axenti, Ingrid Barrera, Angel Flores, Yu Fu, Mia Gutierrez, Lynn Kim, Kim McGill, Ivan Mendez de Leon, Daniela Ortiz-Miranda
Finally, I hope you enjoy these stories in this issue. Each story represents the hard work and dedication of a team that gave it everything they had. Enjoy!
- Greg Fontanilla
Advisers: Stefanie Frith, Nguyet Thomas, Kate McLaughlin
About us and how to join
Warrior Life is a student-run magazine located at El Camino College, 16007 Crenshaw Blvd., Torrance CA 90506. El Camino College students interested in being a part of the magazine must enroll in Journalism 9 for fall 2025 or contact student media adviser, Stefanie Frith at sfrith@elcamino.edu for more information.
From scouring clothing racks to opening PR boxes
By Dani Rose Reyes
He runs his fngers along a rack of secondhand denim at the 2nd Street thrift store, pausing when a ripped, light wash denim jacket catches his eye.
“This is sick,” he thinks, already imagining how it’ll pair with the rest of his look.
With a trunk full of outfts, Maximillian Ryan scouts for aesthetic locations, adjusts his camera settings and focuses on every detail to create the perfect shot.
A content creator with 28,000 Instagram followers and 37,000 on TikTok – the fashion merchandising major at El Camino College has turned his love for fashion and social media into a business.
He carefully crafts social media posts of his outfts and records videos about fashion-related topics titled “After Hours with Denim Boy” on his Instagram, @den1m_ boy. His work represents much more than a hobby — it’s a product of years of trial and error. For Ryan, Instagram isn’t just a place to show of outfts; it’s a platform for selfexpression.
His unique style and strategic approach to content creation have led him to collaborate with and model for brands including Elwood, a streetwear brand, and Kotn, a clothing brand that sources cotton from Egypt. Elwood items are priced between $85 and $220 and Kotn pieces reach up to $198.
While shooting the video, he was approached by one of Rivera’s producers. He pointed out that Ryan had “the look” – even comparing him to actor Jacob Elordi. While he takes it as a compliment, he wants to carve out his own identity in the industry.
Impressed, the producer later ofered him a role in a short flm he was directing.
Before he built his online presence, he was already making moves in fashion by selling denim jeans at school. While at South High School in
“I had people that would text and be like, ‘Hey, do you sell jeans?’” he said. He’d tell them, “$30 a pair.” They would send him the money or give him cash in exchange for the jeans.
Eventually, he stopped selling denim and decided to shift his focus. His attention was fully on styling, networking and building his brand. His interest in fashion, combined with his passion for self-expression and entrepreneurial spirit, made social media the perfect arena to merge these elements. Over time, he realized that this digital space could ofer him the tools to turn his passion into something more substantial – whether through brand collaborations, networking, or modeling.
“I get close to $1,000 in clothes every time,” Ryan said.
He’s already had a small taste of the industry. He once appeared in a YouTube video titled “My Ex-Girlfriend Goes on 100 Dates in 24 Hours” by Brent Rivera, a content creator with over 30 million subscribers. Though it was a brief feature, it gave him a taste of being in front of the camera –something that he hopes to explore.
Torrance, he would thrift and resell jeans, primarily to women, fipping pairs for a small proft. He would post photos of the jeans he wanted to sell on Instagram and students would reach out to purchase them. It started as a side hustle, but it quickly became too much to manage.
The process of selling on Depop, a shopping app where users can buy and sell secondhand or vintage clothing, was too difcult to learn, he said.
Although he was building a presence online, he was also focused on his collegiate soccer career. He attended San Francisco State University as a fashion styling major and had a scholarship to play soccer. But he said he lost the scholarship because his running scores were low and he never got enough playing time.
“They never gave me the opportunity to play,” he said. “I bust(ed) my ass everyday.”
Without the scholarship, staying in San Francisco became too expensive. He decided to transfer to El Camino College and switch his major to fashion merchandising. The move wasn’t just about school – it was also about his
In San Francisco, Ryan felt free to wear whatever he wanted without judgment. Coming back home meant adjusting back to his old lifestyle. He wore adventurous outfts of layered shirts and jackets flled with diferent patterns to school and he thought wearing those outfts at El Camino College would cause judgment from other students.
Unlike the fashion-forward environment he experienced in San Francisco, the atmosphere at El Camino felt more traditional and lowkey, where standing out too much could
21,
invite stares or silent criticism. He felt people might view his style as “trying too hard” or not ftting in with the casual, laid-back vibe of the campus.
In San Francisco, he decided to embrace his name: Maximilian. While in high school, he went by “Max” because his classmates struggled to pronounce his full name. But in this new chapter of his life, Ryan felt more aligned with his personal and professional goals.
feel comfortable doing back home.
After losing his scholarship and moving back home, leaving that fashionable life behind wasn’t easy.
In his early days of content creation, he was hesitant to post on social media too frequently. He worried about how others would perceive him, especially as a man in a space dominated by women. According to the Blogging Wizard – a well-established blog that ofers insight into blogging and content creation– ,
“Instagram’s my game.”
-
“Up in the city, I was able to really be who I wanted to be,” he said. “It sounds more professional. That’s my name, my actual name,” he said.
That meant experimenting with his style, attending fashion events and immersing himself in a creative community where self-expression was encouraged.
He went to runway shows, networked with designers and even modeled for his fellow classmates who needed models for projects. Being in the city gave him the confdence to push boundaries with his wardrobe – something he didn’t
about 76% of TikTok infuencers and 79% of Instagram infuencers are women, making fashion content a heavily female-dominated space.
After he started posting every day, Ryan noticed his follower count slipping. Familiar names from high school — people he used to sit next to in class or pass by in the halls — quietly disappeared from his notifcations. At frst, it stung. But as he scrolled through his new content calendar, tweaking captions and planning outfts, a diferent feeling took over: excitement. He realized he wasn’t posting for old
classmates anymore. He was building something bigger — a brand that felt entirely his own..
The drop in followers only motivated him to keep going and reach an audience that actually cared about fashion and content creation.
It took him two years to build the following that he has now. His growth has been gradual but impactful. He’s not just posting pictures for fun; he’s building a brand, making connections with designers and photographers, and working with fashion brands.
These collaborations have led to paid partnerships, where Ryan now charges up to $2,000 for working with brands. He posts pictures and Instagram stories, temporary photos or videos that disappear after 24 hours, of the brand’s clothing or items that the company wants to advertise.
“The main thing that a good infuencer does is make their lives aspirational,” Megan Paet said, assistant manager of social media at T3 Micro, a California-based company specializing in high-end hair styling tools, and a content creator herself.
“This makes viewers want to have a similar lifestyle or look or dress a certain way. This also makes them marketable to brands because they would want to
be associated with a certain lifestyle or look that the infuencer has,” Paet said.
Ryan’s drive to become a content creator is rooted in his ability to push past any embarrassment or self-doubt, a quality that his twin brother, Quinn Ryan, a history student at San Diego State University, credits to his success.
He has learned the ins and outs of engagement, experimenting with timing, hashtags and captions. He asks himself, “What time do I look at my phone every day?” He uses that to fgure out the perfect time to post for the most engagement.
it’s about creating a unique look that aligns with his values of individuality.
He’s so invested in building his brand that he keeps a notebook that tracks his engagement.
“Instagram’s my game,” he said.
“He’s the type of person who understands that there is some sort of embarrassment associated with what he does,” Quinn said. “But he’s able to look past it and that makes him driven and confdent.”
“It’s not Instagram’s job to put your posts where they’re supposed to,” he said. “That’s what the hashtags are for.”
When it comes to his style, he is unapologetically himself. His maximalist approach to fashion is about
Social media isn’t a pastime for Ryan; it’s a full-time strategy. Every post, story, or interaction is part of a broader mission to cultivate his brand and express who he is. But behind the lens and aesthetic feed is
“The main thing that a good infuencer does is make their lives aspirational.”
-Megan Paet
Ryan lives at home in Torrance with his family who have been supporting him on his journey. His father notices his hard work and advises that he should make sure he gets paid somehow.
This unwavering confdence is what allows Ryan to pursue his passion for fashion and content creation. At a campus where hoodies and jeans are the norm, his carefully styled outfts — layered shirts, clean silhouettes, and bold textures — sometimes stand out. To some, it might seem like he’s trying too hard. But to Ryan, it’s simply a refection of who he is: someone who fnds joy in the details.
mixing a bit of everything – Americana (traditional American fashion and culture), formal streetwear, coastal grandpa and Western infuences. He’s a thrifting enthusiast – hunting for gems at Goodwill or 2nd Street. He styles outfts that suit his audience and himself, posting outfts for his viewers’ outft inspiration.
His secret? He shops in the women’s section, where he fnds better cuts that suit his body type.
“I just like the cut better. I like a tight top,” he said.
His love for thrifting is a passion that is refected in his online presence. His fashion isn’t just about looking good –
a kid from Torrance who grew up not really understanding what fashion was about.
His mom, a project manager who always wore business casual, and his dad, a mechanical estimator, often came home with blueprints tucked under his arm and dust on his work boots—his collared shirts always halfunbuttoned after a long day bouncing between job sites and spreadsheets.
Now 21 and living at home, Ryan goes out on weekends to fnd the perfect backdrop to flm and take photos and videos of himself.. His goal? To do styling for wardrobe and costume for movies or television.
2nd STREET: 20792-20794
Hawthorne Blvd. Torrance 90503
Uptown Cheapstake: 20725 Hawthorne Blvd., Torrance 90503
Goodwill: 727 W. Redondo Beach Blvd., Gardena 90247
Salvation Army: 4001 S. Inglewood Ave. Ste. 102, Redondo Beach 90278
Melrose Trading Post: 7850 Melrose Ave., Los Angeles 90046
Silverlake Flea: 1911 W. Sunset Blvd, Los Angeles 90026
Rose Bowl Flea Market: 1001 Rose Bowl Dr., Pasadena 91103
Goodwill Bins: 646 W. Esther St., Long Beach 90813
Long Beach Antique Market: 4901 E. Conant St., Long Beach 90808
Inglewood Marketplace: 139 S. Market St., Inglewood 90301
The Rodium Open Air Market: 2500 W. Redondo Beach Blvd., Torrance 90504
His plan after college is to style for movies and television, bringing characters to life through wardrobe choices. He wants to do all kinds of things, including modeling and acting. He envisions himself not just behind the scenes but on the runway as well.
“Runway. That would be a dream,” he said.
On any given afternoon, you might fnd him styling three outfts in the back of his car, parked near a wall in Santa Monica facing the sunset. He balances his phone on a tripod, angles it just right, then darts into frame with a confdent pose—his silver jewelry catching the sunlight. It’s not about chasing trends but about making each shot feel like a piece of who he is.
“It’s my Instagram, I do whatever I want,” he said.
As my last joint slowly burned, I told myself that this would be the last time I would ever smoke.
After finishing my joint, my body was relaxed, but my mind was stuck with thoughts of inadequacy.
During this time, I had been out of school for nearly a year and stopped interacting with the outside world.
When you’re high, random thoughts get amplified in your head. As I saw everybody else returning to their normal lives, I wasn’t.
I knew I had to quit, as it wasn’t healthy for me to have negative thoughts, where I would beat myself up about not being a loser and never leaving my house.
My wallet made the best decision for me. I was running out of money and weed, which meant that I couldn’t go to the store and purchase more.
I first started smoking weed during the last semester of my senior year at Morningside High School in Inglewood but it war time smoking, as I smoked with my friends on one-off occasions. Nearly all of my friends smoked.
So I began doing it too, every single day after my final class.
That was me. I stopped caring about school and stopped putting any effort into my classes. I had resigned myself to working with my dad forever.
Smoking cannabis made me feel as if I was on a cloud when I laid down and made even the cheapest items from McDonald’s taste like a five-course meal at a fine-dining restaurant.
My use of weed wasn’t for selfmedication but rather as a nice treat.
However, when I was high, I would often lose track of my surroundings and my thoughts.
I would have one thought in my head and it would disappear shortly after.
At first, I didn’t think much of it, but as time went on it became an issue.
I attempted to quit twice.
The first time I had quit was during the vape pen scare in late summer/ early fall of 2019.
I saw news reports of teenagers damaging their lungs by vaping.
However, that attempt at quitting only lasted a few months
I started again, switching from vape pens to marijuana leaves.
Switching from weed oil to leaves
made it much more noticeable that I was smoking.
With the vape pen, I was able to hide my use of marijuana from my dad.
For about 18 months, my dad had no idea I was smoking regularly.
My dad had his suspicions but didn’t have enough evidence.
He found out after I came home from work early and I had cut up my marijuana buds in my room.
Despite my attempts to hide the odor from my father by spraying Febreze and opening up the windows, the pungent odor remained.
My dad barged into my room and caught a whiff of the overwhelming stench. I had become numb to the smell and was blind to the fact that everybody else could smell it.
early 2021 as a form of escape from the mundane routine I developed.
Instead, it only made my situation worse, as I felt even lonelier when I smoked.
March 28, 2021, was the day when I quit cannabis for good.
Quitting for good was easier than I expected. I had run out of money and cannabis. There was nothing left for me to smoke. I didn’t experience any withdrawal symptoms.
It was also partly due to my isolation and never leaving my room other than for work. There was no way for me to buy more weed.
It’s been nearly four years since I last smoked. One of the greatest feelings after my withdrawal is being able to perceive the world as it is, as I no longer
“My wallet made the best decision for me. I was running out of money and weed, which meant that I couldn’t go to the store and purchase more.”
I had never seen my father so disappointed in me.
I momentarily quit but relapsed two weeks later, smoking with my coworkers. I became a more casual smoker as I only smoked cannabis if it was offered to me.
In 2020, I began working with my dad at his landscaping job . Working with my dad meant fewer chances to smoke. Early 2020 was also my first semester at El Camino College.
Once I started school again, I had to quit once and for all and get serious about my education.
For a while, I was able to curb my cannabis habit. I went multiple months without smoking. I had a few hiccups here and there, but I stopped smoking for the most part.
I thought I was nearly out of the dark, but the social isolation caused by the pandemic made me turn to cannabis in
have to distinguish what’s real, from what’s fake.
The day I stopped smoking is a day I often look back on as the day my life changed for the better as I was able to return to school and now I am on course to receive my associate degree and transfer to Long Beach State.
If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction contact the LA County Publix Health Substance Abuse Service Helpline at:
1-844-804-7500
Story by Jamila Zaki
Drops of sweat rolled down my face as I stood just a few steps before the mighty Kaaba, the holy place Muslims visit for pilgrimage in Mecca, Saudi Arabia. It looked so ethereal and ancient. The voices of people chanting “Labaik Allahuma Labaik, Labaik La Sharika Laka Labaik, Inna Al-Hamda Wa AnNi’mata Laka Wal Mulk La Sharika Lak,” (Here I am, O God, here I am. Here I am, You have no partner, here I am. Truly, all have no partner), echoed across Mecca.
Black birds chirped harmonious melodies alongside the thousands of pilgrims performing tawaf (when pilgrims walk counterclockwise around the Kaaba).
The number of pilgrims performing Hajj and Umrah(Islamic pilgrimages) have grown throughout the years. During 2024 alone, 13.8 million people attended Hajj and Umrah. This is largely due to Saudi Arabia’s Minister of Hajj and Umrah, Tawfq Al-Rabiah, upgrading the workforce, streamlining the online booking process and implementing a professional crowd management system.
attempting to get my night’s rest, I would look up at the ceiling and go into a mental spiral. My head beat rapidly, insomnia took over me that only heightened my anxiety and breathing felt heavy like bricks on my chest. I brushed my hands vigorously through my hair in frustration.
Thoughts of “Something is wrong with me. Why do I feel so behind? Why am I so scared?” fooded my brain.
I could not shut my brain for a single second. . . it was like a fre hydrant gone loose.
There was no way to stop, until warm tears poured down my face. I stood still and eventually knocked out afterward from emotional exhaustion.
This was my routine.
I had difficulty accepting I was in a gap year. Even though I was doing what I wanted, I felt so alone.
I would scroll through posts on Instagram and see my friends living their “best lives” in college. I compared myself to what I saw online.
Although I was spending time with my family and relaxing how I intended, I reached a point of not feeling productive enough.
My days consisted of sleeping until noon and having lunch as breakfast.
Hamida Baloch Hussein, to Umrah. Around that time my grandma began to show signs of early dementia. So he felt it was the perfect time to go on a spiritual family trip.
After graduating South Pasadena High School in 2022, I took a gap year. Being unable to see my friends and only doing school virtually during the pandemic made it difficult for me to adapt to the new norm of life.
While laying on my bed most nights,
I would go on afternoon walks and spend the rest of my day watching “Outlander” on Netfix or scrolling on my phone.
After a couple of months, I realized how much I missed being around people and involved in social activities.
Until one day my grandpa, Mohammed Zaki, ofered to take me, my aunt, Marwah Zaki, and my grandma,
I grew up in a diverse household during my upbringing. My mom is a Mexican-Catholic and my dad is an Indian-Muslim. I was exposed to various faiths and cultures, but as I got older I connected mostly with my Islamic faith. Islam was a large part of my life and when my grandpa ofered to go, I was so excited and happy.
My spiritual trip to Saudi Arabia allowed me to reconnect with Allah SWT (God, Glorified and Exalted is He).
Witnessing people from different cultures, various ages, genders, but wearing the same Ihram attire (Umrah attire), chanting the same verses from the Quran (Islamic holy book), and
united in this holy pilgrimage was something I have never seen before.
Muslims from over 183 different countries attend Islamic pilgrimages every year. Most come from Asian countries including: Indonesia, Pakistan, India and Bangladesh.
During a time of feeling lost and uncertain of the world, I was suddenly filled with a sense of belonging and purpose. It inspired me to take back control over my life.
When I stood before the Kabba, everything that was happening around me was silenced. There was ease and stillness. I was present; I was at peace.
Some pilgrims stood in deep intention of prayer, some touched the black fabric covering the Kabba and some were weeping tears.
As I touched the Kabba, I felt weight lifted off my shoulders. This was the
Kabba I flew 8,182 miles to see it in person. This was it.
Suddenly, a surge of people began pushing and squeezing past me to touch the Kabba. I began to sweat profusely and was buried by a sea of people. Breath in. Breath out.
I closed my eyes and intentionally prayed to Allah SWT.
My faith before was not as strong. I would not pray as often, nor read the Quran. Now I pray more, recite the Quran and attend Jum’ah (Friday prayers).
I left feeling confdent that Allah SWT was my ultimate planner and protector. I knew that my anxiety could be managed by putting my faith in Allah SWT’s hands.
I was blessed to perform Umrah with my grandma, grandpa and aunt. I am more appreciative of my family.
My grandma recently died and all I can think about are the memories I made with her on this trip. I used to nickname her “Balochi blood,” since she was so proud of her Baloch heritage. She was a strong, righteous woman made of fre.
I feel the closest to her whenever I pray now.
I understood that anything is possible to overcome, when I believe and have faith in myself and Allah SWT.
I am a lotus: I rise every time I fall.
In uniform or gi, he’s ready to take the lead
Story by Greg Fontanilla
months,
Ocan’t tell you how many times I’ve spent - hours, days,
people in judo and then you end up coaching them in life, too,”
n a Wednesday night at Makoto Kai Judo dojo in Norwalk, the clinking sounds of weights dropping onto the foor and hip-hop music can be heard on the right side of the room.
Then on the opposite side, a judo instructor standing at 5 feet, 10 inches tall in a blue gi uniform with a black and red belt tied around his waist steps foot onto the 2,500-square-foot mats, ready to teach a class of children and adults.
When he is not donning a gi, he wears another uniform with a badge pinned on the left side of his chest, along with a black basketweave belt attached with pouches of equipment around his waist and four silver stars on the collars of his neatly ironed uniform shirt.
That man is Matthew Vander Horck, 57, who was hired to become the 10th full-time chief of police at the El Camino College Police Department, which was founded in 1970, following demonstrations and concerns about campus safety.
He succeeds Michael Trevis, who led the department for 16 years.
Vander Horck brings more than three
decades of experience in law enforcement to the department’s 55-year history, mentoring ofcers the same way he mentored deputies at the Los Angeles Sherif’s Department as well as students at Makoto Kai Judo.
“As a leader, you coach everybody and then you mentor those that work directly underneath you — you’re trying to get them to learn not just their position, but your position,” Vander Horck said.
Long before practicing his judo throws on the mats and serving communities for 33 years with the department, Vander Horck grew up in Long Beach playing cops and robbers with friends in his neighborhood, with aspirations of becoming a police ofcer.
Law enforcement runs a few generations deep in his family.
Vander Horck’s great-grandfather, Christopher Schonnesen, was a motor ofcer with the Minneapolis Police Department. His father, John Vander Horck, a 33-year LAPD veteran.
“My dad was my hero,” Vander Horck said. “He was Batman, Superman, Spider-Man all rolled into one man.”
The elder Vander Horck discouraged
his son from becoming a police ofcer, wanting to drive his future into dentistry. Intent on stepping foot into law enforcement, Vander Horck took classes in the administration of justice program at Long Beach City College, unbeknownst to his parents.
“It was a diferent time,” Vander Horck said. “I can’t recall a time when my parents ever sat down and asked me about my homework or what grades I was getting.”
That dream turned into reality when he was sworn in as a police ofcer in the reserve program at LAPD’s Harbor Division in October 1989, where he worked three to fve shifts a week all while taking classes at California State University, Long Beach.
Eager to transition to a full-time role, Vander Horck was hired with the LASD in August 1991 after the city of Los Angeles faced a hiring freeze.
After graduating from the academy in December that year, he was assigned to the Hall of Justice jail in downtown LA.
More than three decades later, a long, wooden sword known as a rudis sits on a shelf in his ofce, located in a small
building on the southeast corner of ECC’s campus at 16007 Crenshaw Blvd.
The rudis commemorates Vander Horck’s 33-year career with LASD.
“Every decision I’ve made in life, whether it’s for my job, whether it’s when I transition from being an athlete to a coach, those opportunities put me in a position to be impactful,” Vander Horck said.
To his knowledge, Vander Horck is one of three people to have received a rudis in the department.
Also on that shelf sit football helmets of the ECC Warriors, the Michigan Wolverines and the Minnesota Vikings.
The Vikings helmet is representative of his father’s home state.
Next to that helmet is the Michigan Wolverines, representative of his mother’s side of the family.
During World War II, his maternal grandmother and great-aunt accepted jobs teaching Japanese to U.S. Army ofcers at the University of Michigan, which served as a base camp.
The ofer came after his grandparents were interred at the Manzanar camps, resulting in the Nozawa family on his mother’s side, moving to Michigan.
After the war ended in 1945, Vander Horck’s relatives on that side of the family stayed in Michigan to save up enough money to return to California after losing their livelihood.
“In my family, they associated the University of Michigan with saving them from the camp,” Vander Horck said. “Everybody on my mom’s side of the family are die-hard Michigan Wolverine fans and so I grew up on it.”
Commander Jennifer Seetoo, who serves at LASD’s North Patrol Division, has known Vander Horck since he was a training ofcer at the Compton station.
Seetoo describes Vander Horck as someone who is not only a colleague, but embodies intelligence, strategy and commitment to community engagement.
As a colleague, Vander Horck showed his sense of humor in many ways, including in the form of “Nerf Gun wars.”
Seetoo said Vander Horck was the “goto-guy” at the station for issues including community relations, grafti and fre communication strategies.
“He’s just really good at solving situations,” she said. “He would sit down and come up with strategies of how we could do better with fres, how we
communicate during fres.”
That same approach translates to the training mats, teaching judo students how to problem-solve techniques.
One of those students is Dave Romero, a brown-belt in the martial art.
“He doesn’t command you – he teaches you,” Romero, 59, said. “He will make sure that before you even know how to do the technique, you understand the principle behind the technique.”
Vander Horck, a ffth-degree black belt or “Godan,” is also a certifed national coach and referee under the United States Judo Association.
As students are drilling techniques, he walks around the mats to check on their progress on a Wednesday night.
A student raises his hand to ask about a technique.
“I just want you to get the knee in there,” Vander Horck tells the student.
Vander Horck, along with black belt instructors Matt Everett and Jassen Andrus, spar with the students as the training session moves along.
A few minutes go by.
“9!” Vander Horck says, projecting his voice as he is counting down.
“8!”
“7!”
“6!”
“5!”
By the time he counts to fve, the student he is training with - much smaller in size and physique, is pinned down from a “Kami Shiho Gatame” position, in which the two are lying in opposite directions, with Vander Horck’s chest-down on top, his body stretched over his training partner’s head and shoulders like a weighted blanket.
Moments like how Vander Horck instructed a student to bring his knee in is something Romero appreciates about his “sensei,” or “teacher” in Japanese.
“He would teach you the hard way frst, until you understand and know that - he’ll give it to you and teach you the practical, easier way,” Romero said.
He added that the impact Vander Horck had on him was not only teaching the smaller details of a technique, but also led to a human value that he learned to improve on.
Romero said techniques learned on the mats are applicable of-the mats.
“I’ve learned how to be patient,” Romero said. “‘If you position your foot this way, it’s less efective than
positioning your foot or your hip a certain way,’ that’s patience.”
Romero is not the only mentee to Vander Horck.
When Seetoo was an operations lieutenant at the Lost Hills Station, Vander Horck was a captain, teaching her how to work logistics that included budgets, contracts and personnel.
“He invests in the people that work for him and teaches them how to think strategically,” Seetoo said.
Meanwhile, the brown rudis sitting in Vander Horck’s ofce tells a story of his growth as a deputy, inscribed with his ranks and years.
Chief Vander Horck connects with members of the community during a speaking engagement on “Avoiding Aggression and Violence Using Deescalation techniques,” Tuesday, April 8.
Photo by Greg Fontanilla
Deputy, 1991 to 2005.
Sergeant, 2005 to 2011.
Lieutenant, 2011 to 2019.
Captain, 2019 to 2025.
What the sword does not show are the controversies that can come with a badge
Vander Horck spent the majority of his law enforcement career with the Los Angeles Sherif’s Department, bringing more than 30 years of experience to the El Camino College Police Department as the new chief of police. He is also a black belt in judo, spending 45 years training and teaching the martial art. “As a leader, you coach everybody and then you mentor those that work directly underneath youyou’re trying to get them to learn not just their position, but your position,” Vander Horck said. Photo by Greg Fontanilla
and gun.
One of those controversies was his transfer to the Men’s Central Jail in Los Angeles from his Malibu/Lost Hills Station command in 2020.
The transfer came after an incident that year in which a student from Pepperdine University reported a sexual assault at her Malibu residence. The suspect, Matthew Fairchild, was convicted of misdemeanor sexual battery as a result.
Vander Horck in the jails and courts as deputies. Their careers intersected again at the Lakewood Station when Castellano was a captain while Vander Horck was an operations lieutenant.
Castellano is also Vander Horck’s mentor. He stood by him during this time in his career.
“My guidance to him was always stand up to do the right thing and no matter what move it is, stay positive and stay focused on being able to contribute to the best of your ability to the department,” he said.
“He doesn’t command you - he teaches you.”
- Dave Romero
Fairchild pleaded not guilty to charges of assault, frst-degree burglary and frstdegree residential burglary.
Several Malibu news outlets, including an article published by The Malibu Times reported Vander Horck was demoted after he was disciplined for how responding deputies handled the assault.
However, he told Warrior Life he was not demoted, but was transferred to the Men’s Central Jail. A report from The Acorn said he was reassigned and replaced on Feb. 21, 2020.
The article did not cite a reason for the reassignment and transfer.
“You can’t demote somebody for something that one of their deputies did,” Vander Horck said. “I never received any discipline - in fact, there was no investigation or anything about any of that stuf.”
He added that the transfer to the Men’s Central Jail is part of the political nature of working for the sherif.
“At the end of the day, the sherif makes his own decisions, it’s his department,” Vander Horck said.
Warrior Life attempted to reach former LASD Sherif Alex Villanueva for comment on Vander Horck’s transfer but did not respond to multiple requests.
Chief Allen Castellano, who serves in North Patrol Division, worked with
Weeks prior to the sexual assault in Malibu, Vander Horck’s deputies at the Lost Hills station received backlash for sharing photos of bodies in the Calabasas helicopter crash that claimed the lives of NBA legend Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna Maria-Onore Bryant, along with seven other passengers.
Vander Horck testifed in court that three days after the helicopter crash, he received a notifcation from the Sherif’s Information Bureau that a Lost Hills deputy trainee shared the photos at a bar of Bryant’s remains.
Jurors were informed in court that Vander Horck received an email from the Sherif’s Information Bureau about a civilian complaint.
After receiving the notifcation, he conducted a supervisory inquiry by enlisting a lieutenant to investigate.
The deputy who showed Bryant’s remains in photos was later identifed through a tattoo.
Villanueva later contacted Jorge Valdez, who was captain of the SIB and Lt. John Satterfeld with instructions for Vander Horck’s operations lieutenant, Hector Mancinas to fnd out if any photos were taken at the crash site.
Vander Horck said this was a violation of the Peace Ofcer Bill of Rights, because it prevents from admission to any wrongdoing.
He felt this directive raised red fags, telling the jury that the photos would not have evidentiary value.
Villanueva ordered for a deletion of photos, warning that deputies would be fred if the media obtained them. Vander
Horck expressed his concerns to his supervisor, who contacted Villanueva to protest the order.
Vander Horck did not want his deputies to face consequences similar to another case.
That case involved deputies who were imprisoned following an FBI investigation into the jail system under former LASD Sherif Lee Baca, who was found guilty in 2017 for obstructing that probe into the correctional system.
“My biggest concern was to my employees,” Vander Horck said.
He does not like to discuss these matters and would rather highlight the positives of his job.
“It distracts from the really cool job we have as cops,” he said.
One of those periods of his career included the time when he was working as a training ofcer in Compton when his frst child, Raiden, was born.
“I think the most fun I ever had on the department was when I was a training ofcer at Compton,” Vander Horck said.
Another highlight was when he selected by the FBI to attend the agency’s National Academy in Quantico, Va. for a 10-week training period.
He was one of the less than 2% of law enforcement ofcers in the U.S. given the opportunity to attend a professional development and leadership course, joining 231 ofcers who traveled from every state and 30 diferent countries.
When Castellano, was a captain, he appointed Vander Horck as his operations lieutenant at the Lakewood station, because he showed the willingness to learn.
“He wanted more responsibility – I selected Matt, because he was so eager to learn,” Castellano said.
Passing on his knowledge, Vander Horck had an infuence on other leaders
in the department.
“What he was learning, he was teaching as well,” Castellano said.
Andrus, a second-degree black belt or “Nidan,” said that Vander Horck teaches the nuances of techniques.
“I don’t have a way of explaining it like he [Vander Horck] does,” Andrus said.
Others in the judo community are also championing its practical benefts for those in law enforcement.
Taybren Lee, a developer with the USA Judo P3 Program, has been practicing the martial art for 35 years.
P3 is designed specifcally for law enforcement professionals, teaching ofcers how to use non-lethal judo techniques to de-escalate situations without having to resort to deadly force.
“Judo provides you a better way of thinking, your balance – it’s physical so you’re in better shape,” Lee said. “Highlevel judo is all about decision-making, so it’s very similar to law enforcement, being that you got to make quick decisions in a very small amount of time.”
He adds that lessons also apply to the technicalities of police work.
“Training periods will make you better, whether it’s report-writing, arrest and control, shooting - the more you train you’re going to get better at those things that are needed,” Lee said.
The ideas Lee speaks to are the same ones Vander Horck brings to life on the mats and in his department.
The chief’s top priority is to provide service at the highest professional level and is looking to reintroduce consistent enforcement of parking citations — a departure from the previous chief of police’s approach.
Whether he’s adjusting a student’s footwork on the mat or leading ofcers, his approach is the same — detailed, deliberate, driven by responsibility.
And that’s exactly what he plans to do — one throw and one decision at a time.
Story and photos by Rosemarie Turay
Five acai locations around the South Bay for your next refreshing treat
An acai bowl is a thick smoothie blend made from acai berries, with a soft-serve ice cream textured base.
Usually served in a bowl and topped with a variety of fresh ingredients, including sliced bananas, strawberries, granola and more refreshing and healthy toppings, an acai bowl makes the perfect breakfast meal or snack.
More than just their bold colors, vibrant blends of fruity goodness and irresistible toppings, these five acai spots offer a getaway in a bowl.
1.
Beach Bowls Berry Brand
Beach Bowls offers 18 different kinds of base flavors between three sizes, mini, regular and large.
Also offering 10 different smoothie flavors.
Located 1.5 miles from El Camino College
Address: 2370 Crenshaw Blvd., Torrance
Phone: (310)-328-8515
Hours: Monday to Saturday: 9 a.m. to 7 p.m.
Sunday: 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.
SuCane offers five preset acai bowls. With six choices of fruit, five choices for drizzles to add on top of 14 different dry toppings options, you can design and build your own bowl.
It is is located 1.5 miles from ECC.
Address: 15420 Western Ave., Suite
F, Gardena
Phone: (310)-756-6487
Hours: Sunday to Monday: 11:30 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Tuesday : Closed
Wednesday to Thursday: 11:30 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Friday to Saturday: 11:30 a.m. to 7 p.m.
4. 5. 2. 3.
PurBowls has cane sugar free, plant-based bases and certified gluten free granola with many fresh ingredients, their acai bowls makes the perfect vegan dessert.
Located 6.5 miles from ECC
Address: 930 E. Dominguez St.,Suite
B, Carson
Phone: (310)-817-4320
Hours: Monday to Sunday: 10 a.m. to 1 a.m.
Berry Brand has two signature drinks, an iced matcha oat milk and an iced house coffee. More items ill be added to their menu.
Berry Brand is located 4.0 miles from ECC.
Address: 980 W. 190th St., Ste C1 Torrance
Phone: (424) 318-7595
Hours: Monday to Sunday: 11 a.m to 7 p.m.
Bowlology offers smoothies, poke bowls, protein bowls, cold-pressed juiced and energy shots from THRIV a cold-pressed juice copacking company manufactuer. It is located 2.1 miles from ECC
Address: 731 Campus Drive, El Segundo
Phone: (310)- 616-3393
Hours: Monday to Sunday: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.
How listening to no one but myself
Story by Rosemarie Turay
Are you sure you want to do that?
It was a question I never expected to hear from my family– who always emphasized and stressed the importance of having a higher education.
Hesitant on my dream to have a career in something that involved writing, I believed that being a doctor or something in technology was the correct way to go.
The same people who spent most of my childhood encouraging me to attend college were now questioning my decision to do exactly what they had prepared me to do.
The doubt didn’t end there.
High school teachers, meant to guide students towards a career and instill a passion within, met me with hesitancy.
The people I leaned on for support spewed caution rather than confdence.
The weight of their words pressed down on me like two kettle bells on my shoulders throughout the first two semesters of my college life.
I chose to major in computer science.
This was a decision infuenced by what felt like an unspoken rule that anything outside of science, technology, engineering or math would be a complete waste of time.
At frst, I tried to convince myself that I made the right choice.
Before I knew it, 16-week classes moved at the pace of the hour hand on the clock– slow and dreadful.
Assignments towered over me, twohour coding classes overwhelmed me with lines of codes that felt like an unsolvable puzzle.
By submerging myself under the idea that studying computer science brought me happiness, it didn’t take long before noticing that I was not only drowning myself, but the academic ambition that I once had.
Becoming a software engineer no longer felt like the future that I had once envisioned for myself.
I turned spring break into a research project to fnd the major that not only challenged me but ignited my heart.
Sitting at my beige wooden study desk
35% of students of who declared a STEM major changed their feld of study within three years.
Source: The National Center for Educational Statistics
at home, I explored different fields, stretched hours by clicking through career quizzes– attempting to find a glimpse of clarity.
Spring break left me with a better understanding but no fnal answer.
That answer didn’t come until I stepped into the Humanities Building–noticing the El Camino newsroom on the frst foor for the frst time.
Glass windows housed articles, awards and yearbooks going back decades buzzing with the energy of stories that had already been told and those still waiting to be told.
A copy of The Union, the campus newspaper and the latest edition of the Warrior Life magazine found their way into my hands.
The crisp sound of the newspaper, the boldness of the headlines, the vibrant energy of each page radiated.
The colorful and impactful images of the magazine, each page brimmed with life and purpose.
But it wasn’t the polished look of the publications that was the sole reason for my newfound interest in the subject.
It was the byline.
The writer’s name boldly displayed beneath the headline, held weight.
For the first time– I envisioned my own name printed there.
The thought of my words reaching others, activated something within me.
It felt as though a light had been switched on.
A path that once was shaped by
outside opinions illuminated with the clarity that I had searched for relentlessly grew brighter as I stepped into my frst year as a journalism major.
Suddenly, I was out in the world asking questions, chasing after stories and being pushed out of my comfort zone sometimes even more than I liked.
This time I didn’t feel like I was drowning but navigating the waves.
Each challenge strengthened me rather than discouraging me.
Soon a wave of warmth and selfaccomplishment washed over me when my first article was published both online and in print.
Admiring my byline, my words, seeing my voice and my thoughts– the burden I once feared was lost.
Changing my major was more than a decision but a turning point.
Every story I write now, every challenge I encounter depends on the confdence I have in myself.
For the frst time in my college life– it feels like I am where I need to be.
12 tips for selecting a major from Centeral Michigan University: . elf refect
. esearch majors
. et goals
. eet with professors
. oo into job
. Tal with family and friends
. Ta e career assessments
. eview major re uirements
. onsider the cost
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. Ta e additional courses ource www.cmich.edu
They call her “Na’cho Luckiday.”
From underneath the rim of a shiny black S1 helmet that glitters in the outdoor basketball court’s bright floodlights, she silently observes the pattern of her teammates’ movements. Her short hair, done up in finger-wide locs, frames her face.
So far tonight, no one has completed the obstacle course. The skater who went before her was knocked out of bounds halfway through.
On the sharp blow of the coach’s whistle, Na’cho kicks into gear.
The obstacle course, consisting of two jagged lines of six skaters, moves back and forth like targets in a carnival game; darting from side to side, never twisting or turning their bodies away from their opponent.
Na’cho skillfully moves past her first obstacle, then carefully side steps the next on the toe stops of her quad skates past the opening the third skater makes.
To the frenzied strumming of electric guitars and bass of 90s alt rock thundering in the background, she swiftly and expertly dodges her obstacles and clears the course as her teammates cheer her on from the sidelines.
As she flashes them a broad grin, a black mouth guard carefully fitted over her teeth, the lapels of her black zip-up hoodie fluttering in the breeze like a cape, Na’cho makes a triumphant victory lap before returning to the line for another round.
By night, Na’cho Luckiday is the indomitable jammer and blocker of the Badfish Roller Derby League in Long Beach.
By day, she is Keiana Daniel, the student success coordinator for the Black Student Success Center at El Camino College.
Since 2018, Daniel, 36, has led the growth and development of two communities.
One are her El Camino students, for whom the Black Student Success Center is a safe space, a support system as they navigate community college life in pursuit of their academic and personal goals.
The other are the skaters of Badfish, a pool of new talent and seasoned pros from all walks of life who come together to practice and compete against other roller derby leagues from across the state and beyond.
The United Skates of America
Back in the 90s, long before she became “Na’cho Luckiday,” Daniel was just a girl growing up in Southern California who loved books and sports. While she calls Riverside “home,” her schooling would take her to Norwalk, La Habra, Cerritos and Long Beach.
She played soccer, volleyball and was even on a swim team. “Athletics have always been a big Warrior Life | 24
From the campus to the rink, this El Camino College counselor lives to lead
Story by Erica Lee
part of my life,” Daniel said. “So is reading, still does.”
Like many girls growing up in the 90s, Daniel found escapism in fantasy novels and the American Girl books, a series of historical fiction stories based on a collection of dolls popular in the 90s.
Addy Walker, the courageous 9-yearold who fled to freedom on the Underground Railroad during the Civil War, was her favorite character.
“There’s this resilience in her story that really just made me excited to see her achieve something,” she said.
While she wouldn’t know it yet, reading Addy’s stories where she got to attend school, make friends and even have a birthday celebration as a free girl in Philadelphia lit a spark in Daniel. That one day, she’ll grow up to help others find their potential and achieve their goals in academics and more.
In the meantime, Daniel was an elementary school student learning how to roller skate.
Her dad would take her and her sister to Skate Depot in Cerritos for lessons. Skate Depot, which was featured in the 2018 documentary “United Skates” about African-American roller skating culture, closed in 2014.
Her first pair of roller skates were a rental from the rink.
“My parents’ rule is, ‘try something
out. If you really love it, then we can invest,” Daniel said.
When she was 10 years old, she graduated to a pair of black Reidell quad skates with red wheels. These would eventually become the first skates she
“They were just like these superstars,” Daniel said. “Just watching them blow through a warm-up was both intimidating and inspiring.”
“And so, it was just like that, I wanted to be like them.”
“They were just like these superstars... I wanted to be like them.”
-Keiana Daniel
would use at a roller derby practice over a decade later.
Cut to 2016.
After graduating with a master’s degree in linguistics at California State University, Long Beach, Daniel returned to work with their TRiO Talent Search program, which helps low-income and first-generation high school students from Long Beach and the surrounding communities go to college.
One day, a coworker offered to take her to a roller derby practice after work. It was for Badfish, a local league where the coworker skated under the derby name of “Necronancy.”
Noise, color, body contact
Roller derby’s roots go back to the 1930s, in Chicago.
That was when Leo Seltzer, a one-time movie theater owner from Oregon, made the career switch to capitalizing on one of the biggest fads sweeping the nation at the time: endurance contests.
Flagpole sitting, walkathons and dance marathons gave Americans an escape from the drudgery of the Great Depression. Those who participated could even win money if they stuck it out and outlast their competition.
His latest venture wouldn’t be any different. After reading an article in “Literary Digest” about how 90% of Americans have tried roller skating, Seltzer decided to cash in on these early ultramarathons by putting them on skates.
It worked.
Twenty thousand people packed the Chicago Coliseum to watch as two teams, consisting of a man and a woman, attempted to skate 57,000 laps around a flat track at the firstever Transcontinental Derby on Aug. 13, 1935.
When attendance began to slow down two years later, Seltzer needed to inject some fresh blood if he hoped to continue bringing in the crowds. That was when sportswriter Damon Runyon suggested that he try spilling blood.
Introducing full-contact proved to be a colossal success.
Like professional wrestling today, roller derby in the 1930s
to the 1970s drew in the crowds with violence and over-the-top theatrics. Players were encouraged to shove, hit, headlock and even get into fist fights with their opponents on the rink.
There were even accusations that some matches were rigged.
“Noise, color, body contact,” Seltzer said in a 1971 article for The New York Times when asked to describe roller derby’s appeal.
But by 1973, Seltzer’s son Jerry had shut down the roller derby empire his dad had built, citing high maintenance and travel costs. Because the elder Seltzer had owned all the teams in the league, they had disappeared.
There were attempts to revive roller derby in the 80s and 90s.
However, the sport wouldn’t experience a full-blown resurrection until the early 2000s.
That was when a group of women in Austin, Texas, decided to bring back the sport but with a feminist bent. This time, the teams were all-women with a strong DIY culture and elements borrowed from the Austin drag scene.
According to the Women’s Flat Track Derby Association, there were 413
member leagues spread across six continents by 2024.
Although they are not a WFTDAranked league, Badfish Roller Derby follows their rules and regulations.
The rules of roller derby are simple.
A roller derby bout consists of two 30-minute periods. Active game play during those periods are called “jams,” which can last up to two minutes.
Each team can have up to five skaters, four blockers and a jammer.
The jammer, who wears a helmet cover with a star, scores points by passing the blockers on the opposing team and making a successful lap around the track.
The team with the most points at the end of the game wins.
Founded in 2014 and named after a Sublime song, Badfish is a flat track roller derby team from Long Beach. They are one of four roller derby leagues based in the South Bay.
Flat track roller derby refers to the flat oval track on which skaters roll.
This is in contrast to banked track roller derby, which takes place on a
slanted track and is ingrained in pop culture with movies such as 2009’s “Whip It” and 2020’s “Birds of Prey.”
Banked track also increases the chances of injury from falling out of range during bouts.
Not that flat track derby doesn’t come with its own risks.
During a scrimmage in 2018, Daniel lost a toenail.
“They somehow convinced me to be a jammer,” she said. “And I lost a toenail that day.”
To be fair, she played as a jammer during practice. Her teammates had seen her incredible dodging skills and knew she could do it.
“It really pushed me out of my comfort zone,” she said of the practice. “I laughed about it later. It’s fine, toenails grow back.”
There’s no such thing as an average day in Black Student Success Center.
A day at the Center can range from a “giggle-fest” where staff and students bond over upcoming events and share and celebrate their accomplishments. Other days, Daniel can be seen showing 27 | Warrior Life
around high school students who plan on enrolling at El Camino. And on other days, the mood is more somber and subdued.
“The last few weeks, there’s been more therapy referrals than I’ve had in the past,” she said.
The center is a hub for the college’s student athletes, who are gobsmacked that their mentor plays just as hard as they can.
“Last semester, I got challenged in person with a football player,” Daniel said. “We went toe-to-toe to see how many [repetitions] we can do. It was very crazy.”
As one of the founders of the BSSC, Daniel’s heart and soul went into the creation of a community space where El Camino’s Black students can thrive.
“She’s passionate, she is very student-centered,” Chris Hurd, the Student Equity and Achievement counselor and Daniel’s colleague, said. “She is someone who fights fearlessly for the best interest of her students.”
There’s even a personal touch with two pothos cuttings at the front desk. These came from Daniel’s own plants at home, which she shares with her wife and their tiny box turtles, Bert and Ernie.
Are you a Badfish too?
Badfish practice begins just as the sun sets and the lights surrounding the basketball court at Long Beach’s El Dorado Park West burst to life. The air is filled with cheers from the baseball field, where a girls’ softball team plays, and the rush of airplanes landing at the nearby Long Beach Airport.
The time it takes to reach El Dorado Park from El Camino is an hour if one takes the 405 Freeway.
For Daniel, the commute takes 10 to 15 minutes from her home in the Long Beach area if she takes the 91 Freeway.
Like Clark Kent, she seamlessly transitions to her secret identity.
By the time she rolls up to the basketball court at 7 p.m., with her gear bag and skates in tow, the thin black and gold glasses she had been wearing at earlier that day have come off. She’s not Keiana Daniel anymore.
She is Na’cho Luckiday.
Roller derby names serve a skater’s secret identity.
These skaters come from all walks of life. They are students, doctors, teachers and business owners. Their derby names reflect their personality. It can be chosen by the skater or someone close to them.
They’re like drag names, but more risqué and violent. Names like Slammin De Beers. Llama Trauma. Esmay Hurt. Kandi The Kid. Malice in Wonderland.
In the case of Na’cho Luckiday, her name came from brainstorming ideas with a skater who went by “Mandatory Beat Down.”
“We tried a play on my actual name because it’s kind of like Keanu Reeves from The Matrix,” Daniel said. “We tried that and we were like, ‘yeah, it doesn’t really give derby.’”
On an average night, there can be up to 40 skaters practicing in one of the two basketball courts. Some skaters have been with Badfish since the beginning. Others come from other leagues and teams. At least three once skated for Beach Cities Roller Derby, a WFTDA league that disbanded during the 2020 Covid-19 pandemic.
“We have a comradery that is unique to the area because we have had roller derby here for so long and people who have played for so long,” Shayna “Pigeon” Meikle said. Once in charge of Beach Cities Roller Derby, she is also owner of Pigeon’s Roller Skate Shop in
Long Beach as well as Pigeon’s Roller Rink, which has two locations.
“That’s the beautiful thing about roller derby,” Meikle said. “There are so many reasons it draws people in… from finding social groups to getting athletic discipline to finding happiness again. The list goes on.”
The Badfish skaters split off into two practice groups.
The beginners are known as the “guppies,” skaters learning basic skills and the rules of roller derby. To move on to the next group, known as the “school,” they must pass a skills assessment test.
“We have to travel everywhere for our games because our track is too small,” Badfish President Cynthia Beers said.
The basketball court that serves as a makeshift roller derby track measures 90 feet by 60 feet and 6 inches. There’s not enough room for the referee to stand. There’s not even room for spectators. The sidelines of the court are a hodgepodge of the team’s gear, skatebags and backpacks.
The lack of a home track invites the opportunity for the Badfish Roller Derby team to get out of the fenced-in confines of their practice space.
“We went to Alaska last year,” Elise Vu, who skates as “Deja Bruise,” said. “Casa Grande, Arizona, Oceanside, San Diego… People in Hawaii want us to go
there. So yeah, we get to travel a lot, which is fun.”
Travel costs are covered through fundraising and merchandise sales.
These include sparkly stickers, T-shirts, hoodies and hats. There’s a Pride-themed Badfish shirt featuring their team emblem, an anglerfish with a pair of skated feet sticking out of its toothy maw.
Daniel sticks by Creepy Taco, one of the derby coaches, as the school skaters practice blocking and jamming, simulating gameplay.
“There it is, there it is,” she murmurs, watching as one jammer seamlessly passes the three blockers, who have linked arms and are pivoting to and fro, trying to stop their opposition from scoring points.
Then she calls out, “nice, good job!” as the jammer breaks past the wall and proceeds to skate a lap around the track.
When another skater is knocked down, she’s the first to crouch down at her side to offer comfort and support.
The best trait a roller derby coach can have is leadership.
“When you are a coach, you are a leader and you have to keep your cool and be non biased,” Meikel said. “If a coach can bring a team together, that’s really powerful.”
Although it’s been two years since she
last coached for Badfish, the instinct is still there. Mentoring others doesn’t stop at the college. It goes far beyond the confines of the campus.
Try as she might, the other skater can’t force Daniel to budge.
Daniel sees herself more as a blocker, but has excelled as a jammer.
“If a coach can bring a team together, that’s really powerful.”
- Shayna “Pigeon” Meikel
“Na’cho is very good at explaining things in derby,” Ezra Messer, a studio arts major at ECC who skates as Kandi the Kid, said. “I look up to Na’cho, Na’cho is strong.”
When she is on skates, Daniel can be as swift as a running river or as formidable as a mountain.
“I’m just hitting you in vain,” one Badfish skater said during a blocking exercise. This is when two skaters are paired off to practice blocking techniques. The blocker, assuming a crouching derby stance, has to stop her partner, who is pushing against her, from moving.
“This year is different, switching it up,” Daniel said. ‘We’ll see. Maybe I will be a pivot. Who knows?”
Website: www.badfishrollerderby.com
Instagram: @badfishrollerderby
TikTok: @badfishrollerderby
Story by Greg Fontanilla
On your mark!
As a 22-year-old Mariner of Marymount California University, I load myself onto the starting blocks during track practice, crouching into a four-point stance.
The sharp ends of my sprinting spikes make contact with the rubber component of the block. My toes are an inch of the rubber track. My hands are set behind the starting line in a c-shape. My head is down.
I’m in relaxation mode, waiting for my coach’s cue to send me of.
“Set!”
I raise my hips in the air, getting ready to shoot out of the blocks.
“GO!”
I accelerate at the line, executing pristine sprint form. Ankles are dorsiflexed while I run on the balls of my feet. Knees are lifting up, arms are at a 90 degree angle, driving my elbows back as my upper extremities stay relaxed.
About 70 meters into my sprint workout, I hear a squelch. My right leg feels funny. A dull to medium sharp pain travels through the back of my leg.
Just like that, explosive steps at a high rate of speed led to a borderline hamstring tear, forcing me to miss six weeks of the 2015 indoor season.
But I lost more than those six weeks.
from feeling invincible to vulnerable.
Meanwhile, the adversity I was facing off the track with cancerous relatives mirrored the ones I faced on the track –being manipulated and controlled by toxic relatives, career sabotage and anxiety.
While I was recovering from a physical injury, I was also fighting to recover from those emotional injuries - the kinds that don’t not appear on an X-ray.
With the luxury of downtime in the healing process, I reevaluated my relational ties and how to rejuvenate physically.
According to the National Library of Medicine, anxiety from sports performance impacts 30 to 60% of athletes.
Much like the tear in my hamstring, I tore and snapped the family bonds I was
losses.
Like most athletes, I took the necessary measures to recover – proper nutrition, physical therapy treatments and stretching.
More importantly, one of those solutions was fguring out the why.
With the luxury of downtime in my physical healing, I was also beginning to recover from the domestic hurricane, in the form of family turmoil, by beginning to cut of toxic relatives.
The anxiety of feeling empty and persistent questioning if I will be sufcient enough to survive in the real world crept in.
These thoughts date back to my childhood at 5 years old.
Seventeen years later, I turned losses into wins by surrounding myself with mentors who understood my upbringing, some of who gave me tough love.
“ As a track and field hurdler, I understood that humans have the ability to overcome obstacles in any given situation.”
All of a sudden, I temporarily lost my ability to run at a high rate of speed.
Knowing I was successful as a lifelong athlete, I realized I was not invincible. The victories I recorded running track and feld fnally had the number one in the wins and losses column.
The loss column, to be specifc. I am not used to losing.
I felt defeated and anxious. That sudden injury felt like a loss – the kind you feel when you lose a game or race in sports, even after fghting for a win.
Preconceived notions I had about myself as an athlete changed. I went
once bound to, because I refused to continue losing by maintaining a path of destruction my relatives led me to.
That path of destruction felt like recovering back to my feet, only to be shoved down again.
This time, it felt like being toyed withbeing ridiculed with slurs and malicious intent in the guise of innocent sounds of laughter as my face gets stepped on.
I get back up. I’m stepped on again. The cycle repeats.
It can feel demoralizing, because you’re left wondering if you’re good enough to persevere and restore those
That love was what allowed me to get back onto the track weeks after.
Five years later, that type of love came into play when my father died unexpectedly.
While I experienced a tremendous loss, the mental toughness given by mentors, coaches and friends who I love dearly allowed me to comprehend and overcome the feelings of grief and melancholy.
Winning isn’t everything, because shortcomings can be turned into successes.
During my recovery period, I was feeling confdent I was going to bounce back to get back on the track.
After missing six weeks of full practices, I healed in time to become the frst ever sprinter in the history of MCU’s track and field program to run the 100-meter dash.
Story by Kim McGill
He’s got a gun! Screams and highpitched warnings suddenly crushed the calm inside the classroom.
Three children rushed into the workshop I was facilitating on March 20 at Fred Roberts Recreation Center on the east side of South Central Los Angeles.
I ran outside and found a nine-yearold boy holding a realistic black BB gun resembling an automatic pistol with a removable magazine for the pellets. He was chasing other youth around the small courtyard.
I stopped him and explained the dangers of BB guns.
I assured the youth and adults involved that we would meet the following week
to discuss their concerns and safety. I informed the parks department staff of the details. Later that night, I met with the boy again along with his mother and sister to hear their perspectives.
I didn’t call the police. No one else did either.
Across LA and the US, similar incidents trigger a 911 call, arrest – even of young children – and most often, court and detention. In the worst cases, law enforcement have shot and killed youth who are holding a BB or toy gun, including 12-year-old Tamir Rice and at least 245 other people between 2014 and 2021 alone.
Rarely does anyone ask why a nineyear-old is carrying a weapon, why he is using it to intimidate or impress other
people, and what else is going on in his life that leads him to feel like having a gun is important.
Equally significant, there aren’t follow-discussions with the other people involved, to process their fears and anxieties and to ensure they feel safe in their homes, schools, parks and streets.
A small, but growing movement in American schools and neighborhoods is developing restorative justice (RJ) and transformative justice (TJ) efforts to address conflict, reduce violence, repair harm and increase public safety without relying on prisons and police.
RJ and TJ processes are promoted through efforts to reform the system and also by abolition movements working to eliminate militarized policing and
prisons. They are ancient traditions rooted in many of the world’s indigenous cultures, where disputes were handled through community discussions centering the people most impacted.
The Annie E. Casey Foundation describes restorative justice as “strategies that bring together people who have caused harm and those they have harmed to talk about what happened and collaborate on an appropriate solution outside of a more adversarial court proceeding.”
Internationally, RJ has replaced court systems, including in New Zealand following Maori cultural practices, throughout Zapatista territory in Chiapas, for many cases in the United Kingdom and Canada, and through the Truth and Reconciliation Commissions established to address the atrocities of apartheid in South Africa and genocide in Rwanda.
Mia Mingus for Transform Harm defines TJ as “an abolitionist framework that understands systems such as prisons, police and ICE as sites where enormous amounts of violence take place and as systems that were created to be inherently violent in order to maintain social control.”
TJ separates conflict resolution processes entirely from the system. For me, TJ also focuses on addressing root causes and changing the policies that maintain violence and victimization.
As a teen and as an adult, I got arrested and went to court, mostly on theft or traffic charges.
I started to experience court justice.
Lawyers for both the defense and prosecution battled for a win.
They spoke in a language none of us –neither the people accused or victims –could understand. The lawyers on both sides argued “on our behalf” without asking what we needed or following our lead.
The process always depended on the accused being seen as 100% responsible and the victim as fully innocent. The complex circumstances and history of conflict that lead to many crimes were not addressed.
Despite claims that the system is about “rehabilitation,” discussions and decisions overwhelmingly prioritized punishment.
I started to go to court with other defendants and their families to
advocate for them throughout the process. After 15 years, I’ve been to court with hundreds of people.
At the end of each case, nearly all the crime survivors and those prosecuted have felt unheard, mistreated, battered and disappeared.
I have rarely seen any attempt to repair the harm directly caused to individuals or the community.
Most people accused of crimes are forbidden from contacting the victims in their case. Even restitution, when paid, is done in such a bureaucratic, indirect way that it does little to heal or change victims or the people held accountable.
Instead, courts, juvenile halls, jails and prisons increase our isolation, fear, anger, addictions and afflictions.
A week after the nine-year-old brought a BB gun to Fred Roberts Recreation Center, a group of 12 youth – ages 7 to 16 – sat in a circle on metal folding chairs inside the center’s classroom.
I told them that we would be meeting to discuss the incident that happened the previous week when the boy chased other youth around the park, shot the gun at least once, and pointed it at a parent.
Some youth glanced nervously at the floor.
A few immediately shouted opinions. One whispered rumors to the person next to them. Others shifted forward in their seats, anxious to start the conversation.
I took out a small Zuni bear carving - less than 2 inches long - shaped from white alabaster with black obsidian eyes.
I explained that the bear would be passed around the circle, person to person, to ensure that everyone would have an equal opportunity to participate.
Only the person with the bear could speak. No one - no matter how bold or confident - could dominate.
I said that for thousands of years, people all over the world used circles – just like the one we were sitting in – to set community priorities, make decisions and solve problems.
Circles, I added, are sacred because there is no one expert at the front leading the conversation or dictating a direction forward. There might be a facilitator or “circle keeper,” to move the process. But no one sits above anyone else.
A circle prioritizes equality, inclusion and democracy. I said that it also
maximizes safety – used by both humans and animals – because each individual can see potential threats coming up behind someone across from them.
One by one the youth spoke about the incident.
They debated potential consequences. Some said the boy needed to be “DP’d” – slang for disciplined – by other people who would beat him up as a punishment. Some said he should be banned from the recreation center. Others spoke about the importance of second chances. A few emphasized the need to find out what the boy and his family were going through.
We discussed the stress, violence and peer pressure that lead youth to carry guns. We also talked about the risks. We spoke about the people we knew who had been killed or injured by guns, the statistics on gun homicides for youth in L.A. and the U.S., the data on guns in a home leading to accidental shootings or suicides, and the numerous incidents where people carrying a toy gun, including young children, were killed by law enforcement.
In the end, they decided that the boy should not be kicked out of the youth group or banned from the park. He and his family should have an opportunity to meet with us.
A second meeting happened that same night with the mothers and grandmothers of young people who use the park. They came to the same conclusion.
The boy and his family have been invited to a meeting.
California’s Proposition 12 –prohibiting the caging of chickens for meat and egg production – went into effect on January 1, 2022.
We legislate for cage-free chickens but not cage-free kids.
Widespread implementation of TJ as well as RJ are key to increasing community connection and public safety while also enabling California to end youth incarceration and eventually abolish the caging of all people.
Story and photos by Dani Rose Reyes
Pickleball might sound like a backyard game your aunt invented after one too many sips of sangria, but make no mistake — it’s the fastest-growing sport in the country. Everyone is jumping on the pickleball train (or should we say court?) – from retirees to Gen Z’ers. And in the South Bay, that train is moving fast. With courts popping up in parks, gyms and anywhere a net can fit, finding the right spot to play can be its own kind of challenge. From dinking to dominating, these are the places in the South Bay where pickleball players come to play — and stay.
At Wilson Park in Torrance, the pickleball action is non stop — assuming you can get a spot on the court. With only two courts, wait times can stretch up to an hour, so bring your patience (and maybe a folding chair). But the wait has its perks: the sidelines feel like a community hangout, with a diverse crowd of all ages and backgrounds cheering, chatting and occasionally scouting future doubles partners. Once you’re up, all eyes are on you — not because you’re a pro, but because there’s literally nothing else to watch. Whether you’re a seasoned player chasing rallies or a newbie just trying to remember the score, the vibe at Wilson Park can swing from fiercely competitive to refreshingly laidback — sometimes all in the same game. You can visit this park between 6a.m. to 10p.m.
2200 Crenshaw Blvd., Torrance 90501
El Segundo Recreation Park is a breath of fresh air for pickleballers tired of long waitlists and tight court schedules. With eight courts available – including a few dedicated to beginners – this spot offers more room to play and a more relaxed rotation. Benches are on the ends of the court for those waiting their turn, though you might not be sitting long. Open play is organized by the Westchester Pickleball crew, who keep things running smoothly while maintaining a fun, community-focused vibe. Parking can be a bit of a scavenger hunt as their lot is a bit small. El Segundo Recreation Park makes it easy to find your rhythm. The park is open daily from 8 a.m. to 9 a.m..
401 Sheldon St., El Segundo 90245 310-524-2700
Hemingway Park’s newly constructed courts have quickly become a favorite among locals looking for good games and great company. The courts have a fresh feel and the players bring the kind of energy that makes you want to stay awhile. The crowd is warm, helpful and very competitive, with regulars often offering tips, lessons, or “you play very well” comments from the sidelines. There is always someone willing to help. However, courts close at 5 p.m. on the weekends and 9 p.m. on weekdays, so plan your matches carefully.
700 E. Gardena Blvd., Carson 90746
310-538-0018
Sur La Brea Parks keeps it simple but solid with four pickleball courts set up right on the tennis courts. The nets are portable but the lines are permanent for easy setup. Make sure to plan accordingly since court hours are limited to 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. The scene is friendly and easygoing, with plenty of shade from the trees to cool down between games. Restrooms are nearby but dated and there is no designated seating for breaks between games. However, the park makes up for it by making it a comfortable spot to hang out. Parking is available around the neighborhood, though you might have to circle the block once or twice. It isn’t the flashiest but it’s a chill place to rally with good people. Open daily from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m..
2006 W. 236th St., Torrance 90501
PowerPlay Pickleball brings the action indoors with nine courts, a dedicated practice space and a vibe that balances competitiveness with community energy. It is a favorite among serious players thanks to high-level games and skill-based challenge courts — but beginners are just as welcome. The staff is friendly, the players are encouraging and the atmosphere is all about growth and progression. The lighting seems dimmer on the court but the steady stream of rallies more than makes up for it. Open play is offered but during high-demand hours, you would need to reserve a spot through their Powerplay app. Memberships are available for $169 a month or there is a drop-in rate of $25 a day. They are expecting to open 21 outdoor courts by late summer or early fall. They are open daily from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m..
19401 S. Main St., Carson 90248
How a cosmetology student balances motherhood, education, freelancing and recovering from cancer
Story and
by Eddy Cermeno
Ablack makeup toolkit is pulled from a suitcase and set on a salon desk.
Once it is opened, a colorful assortment of products organized in pockets such as brushes, face and eyeshadow primers, facial moisturizer and hair clips are ready to use.
An El Camino College student sits on a salon chair in the college’s cosmetology department. A black makeup cape is draped over her and a tissue is wrapped around her neck.
Yuika Nakai, 25, a cosmetology major, is asked if she is comfortable in her current position. She says “yes” and nods her head with glee.
She is now ready for a makeover.
Sofia Mera, 30, a cosmetology and psychology major, wears her custommade black apron with “The hairapist is in” written on the front in gold and white letters, as she grabs her first product. She begins preparing Nakai’s face by applying skincare as a base and cleaning her skin.
This makeover session is Mera’s frst time meeting Nakai. Mera uses treatment pads to exfoliate Nakai’s face and remove pore-clogging impurities.
“You have really good skin!” Mera said. Nakai is surprised by the compliment saying she feels her skin is too dry.
Mera reassures Nakai her skin is not dry at all as she applies skin tint and a thin base of foundation to maintain her natural skin before applying makeup.
Cream contour is applied to the hollows of Nakai’s cheeks, along her nose and jawline to accentuate her facial structure. Shimmery coral peach blush is put on for a firty makeup fnish and ficks of color are added to the front and arches of Nakai’s eyebrows to keep a natural density.
Mera brushes neutral bronze, brown and tan shades to Nakai’s eyelids along with creamy high pigment shadows with refective chromatic fakes in a halo style.
Throughout the makeover process, Mera continues to make Nakai feel more at ease by having conversations about each other’s career ambitions and joking about both of their natural facial expressions.
After Mera fnishes putting a natural fushed shade to Nakai’s lips, she locks in the applied makeup with a luminous setting spray to help seal in moisture and for the fnal look.
Nakai sees the end result in a mirror and is amazed. Her skin glows as light from the room bounces off her face, along with the shimmering shadow on her eyelids.
“You are really good!” Nakai said to Mera as she thanked her.
As Nakai left the chair and showed the makeover results to classmates in the room, she kept remarking on how well a job Mera did.
Mera’s interest in cosmetology
she is learning while double-majoring at El Camino, being a single mother and dealing with over 10 years of physical setbacks from cancer.
In high school, Mera began doing the makeup and hair for some family friends. Word then spread.
People began asking Mera to do their makeup after seeing her work results.
“Looking back I don’t know who would let a 14-year-old do their makeup,” Mera said while laughing.
“Looking back, I don’t know who would let a 14-year-old do their makeup.” - Sofa Mera
became known to her family when she was 4-years-old and she opened a makeup kit she got as a Christmas gift with excitement.
Leading up to her teenage years, Mera would practice her cosmetology skills by doing the hair and makeup for her mom and sister.
Mera has now been doing freelance cosmetology for over 15 years and continues to pursue her own career goals by incorporating aspects of psychology
Working at that age and doing makeup for adults built Mera’s confidence. In usual settings around adults, Mera was timid and kept to herself.
However, when she was in her element while working on a client, Mera’s shyness went away.
“When I was doing makeup, I wasn’t overthinking [my interactions with people],” Mera said.
After having more experience with working on clients over the years, Mera recalls her cosmetology work as a teenager with fond criticism.
“I’m like, why are you getting my advice? I was a child,” Mera said while laughing. “That [makeup application] didn’t look good, I would do that diferently now.”
As she continued to work with clients at a young age while attending high school at Hope Chapel Academy in Hermosa Beach, she felt a fulfllment of being able to study and work in tandem.
All this personal momentum came to a halt when she faced a life-changing physiological problem after graduating from high school. When Mera was 19 and attending El Camino in 2014, she was diagnosed with thyroid cancer.
“When I’m hitting an age where my career and freelancing should take of, it all went down,” Mera said.
She began to feel unwell and
experienced a physical decline. After going to the doctor, it was discovered Mera had an abdominal cyst, 19 centimeters in diameter.
The cyst was about the size of a small bowling ball.
Days later, she had an emergency surgery to remove the cyst but still wasn’t feeling better.
“I just felt my energy [being] drained, what I thought an old lady would feel like,” Mera said.
Her family has had a history with cancer and Mera’s mom, Veronica Mera, also has dealt with thyroid imbalances so she recommended Sofia consult a family doctor.
Sofia calls the doctor “Momma” because she diagnosed problems with her thyroid and recommended a biopsy. It was discovered that in order to remove any trace of cancer in her thyroid, it would have to be completely removed.
This was her frst big decision as an
adult. Instead of having it partially removed, Mera decided to have it all taken out.
She said fully removing her thyroid turned out to be a blessing and was the safest option. There were cancerous nodules hidden behind the thyroid, so a partial removal would have left cancerous residuals in the glands.
“If I had opted to [partially remove] or try to save it, [the cancer] would have festered and spread, so it was a good decision in the long run,” she said.
Since the surgery, it has been a decadelong journey for Mera learning about what the thyroid does in the body, fnding help and seeking answers.
Mera felt dramatic changes in her body and energy when her thyroid was removed. Over the years she has dealt with autoimmune disease, where the body mistakenly attacks healthy organs and tissues, leaving her with low energy.
She said despite becoming accustomed to having low energy along with muscle fatigue and joint pain, Mera continues pushing through her pain and making the effort to continue her education and caring for her 6-year-old daughter, Shiloh Mia.
Mera calls Mia her “miracle baby” after she was born in 2019. She said due to all of her health and hormonal imbalances, becoming pregnant and having a child when she was 24 was something that wasn’t supposed to be possible.
As she began caring for Mia, Mera said she didn’t see it as a hindrance to balance her responsibilities as a mother, busy schedule and education. It was motivation for her to work toward her career goals of getting her associates degree in psychology and state cosmetology license.
In fall 2024, when Mera was taking a freshman cosmetology class, she was alerted to another issue. After getting the results of physical scans done in the summer of 2024, doctors found a growth in her ovary.
“My experiences have really been just like a two step forwards two steps back, kind of halt and go halt and go,” Mera said.
This growth in her ovary exacerbated her physical issues, causing her to pause taking in-person cosmetology courses. Despite this current setback, Mera has remained at El Camino, switching to online psychology classes in spring 2025 to help get her degree.
“I’m going to shift gears, I’m not going to lose momentum,” she said.
Catherine Morado, a cosmetology technician at El Camino, was first introduced to Mera when she was in the beginner cosmetology class. Morado said she has always been sweet, bubbly and helpful to others.
“[Mera] has a lot of passion in what she does and is able to connect with clients by seeing who they are on the inside,” she said. “She’s in her element, it’s art.”
Morado said Mera can greet her clients well in a manner that fows freely and is proud of the person she is because of her commitment to continue working on her career.
After Mera finished the beginner cosmetology class, she took the advanced class taught by cosmetology professor Linda Finn Valentine.
Valentine observed Mera’s cosmetology skills and saw how experienced she was. She said Mera is able to advance her skillset faster than others because she has good organizational skills.
“[Mera] always stays on task, tries her hardest to get better and is open to suggestions on how she can do [certain cosmetology skills] better,” Valentine said.
Whenever Valentine gave Mera feedback about cutting hair or makeup application, she said Mera was receptive to her feedback and often people are not open to hearing criticism about their cosmetology skills.
Valentine said it takes time for students who come out of the freshman class to be able to work on clients on the main floor of the cosmetology department. However, she did not have to check on Mera too much when she was with a client.
“Right away I could see [Mera] was able to hold her own with a client,” Valentine said. “She was more experienced than most people coming out of the freshman room.”
When working with a client, Valentine said people feel closely interacted with and tell a lot of their personal issues. Valentine teaches her students to be engaged with a client but also detach themselves to finish their tasks.
With Mera, Valentine said she has the ability to be warm with a client and can keep on task.
“[Mera] does a really good job of being personable with [a client] so that right away they [build a connection],” Valentine said. “When her [cosmetology] skills talk, that’s another thing she has already going for her.”
As students take classes in the El Camino cosmetology department, Valentine said they are more prepared than students at other educational institutions. She said students have to show continuous skill progression to earn their degree and prepare to get their license by taking the California Cosmetology State Board licensing exam.
According to an El Camino Course Success & Completion Dashboard, over the last four fall terms, the cosmetology department has had an average 88% course success rate, the number of students who received a passing grade,
Sofa Mera shows of some cosmetology tools and products she uses to work on clients in her room at her house in Hawthorne. Mera calls the space an “apartroom” since it feels like an apartment within the house where she lives with her 5-year-old daughter Shiloh Mia.
and an average 98% course completion rate, the number of students who did not withdraw from a course.
Valentine said cosmetology can be a luxury service, so your skills have to speak enough to people to make them come back to you as opposed to anyone else they can visit. Being able to make a loyal customer is difcult in the beauty industry, she said.
In her freelance work, Mera has learned the beauty industry is about networking and being able to interact well with other people. She said you should post your work on the internet, connect with groups and businesses and put yourself out there.
A long-term goal Mera has is to have a salon where she can combine both her cosmetology and psychology skills. Sessions for both beauty and therapy. “You can have your package set up in a sense where you’re getting your makeover after you’ve had your talk therapy and processed it all,” Mera said.
Over time, Mera wants to build a beauty team where each person specializes in an aspect of cosmetology and they travel together to work on clients. After she has earned her psychology degree at El Camino, she wants to start solidifying clientele in the psychology feld.
Career opportunities in the beauty industry are becoming more available as the need to replace workers who retire or move to a new job increases.
According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, overall employment of barbers, hairstylists, and cosmetologists is projected to grow 7% from 649,400 in 2023 to 694,800 in 2033. Hairdressers, hairstylists and cosmetologists had about 571,100 jobs in 2023 and 48% of those positions were self-employed.
Mera has dealt with a lot of people in her freelance work and when she worked at Sephora for three years. She saw a distinct personality in customers depending on the location where she would work, from Beverly Hills to Manhattan Village.
In Beverly Hills, she found people were not personable and lacked empathy; her experiences fed into her interest in psychology. When people were rude, Mera said she would counter with unwarranted kindness and compliments.
“I found a lot of times [clients] would
Sofa Mera, 30, was diagonosed with thyroid cancer when she was 19 after it was discovered she had an abdominal cyst 19 centimeters in diameter, the size of a small bowling ball. After recovering from surgery she has dealt with lingering physical issues for over a decade.
boil down and kind of come back to Earth and meet me with a little bit more humanity,” Mera said. “People’s responses, how they react and the way things bug them, all of that stems from something.”
One location where Mera does occasional freelance work is in her room at home in Hawthorne.
Once you enter her room lit with ambient pink lights, a large mirror wall has enough space in front of it for a
client, a desk along with drawers containing makeup products and a bunk bed where she sleeps with her 5-year-old daughter Shiloh Mia.
Mia often calls Mera “Miss Momma” because she is homeschooled and likes to learn math lessons from her. Mia said she likes going to the park with her mom and how she styles her hair in cornrows.
When Mia showed interest in ballet dancing, Mera enrolled her in classes at Legacy Dance Academy in El Segundo. Mera said Mia has participated in multiple competitions and when on stage, she is not nervous about performing in front of people.
For Mera, life is all about time management and coordination. Her family helps take care of Mia whenever she is busy with freelance work or doing school assignments
Mera’s family is tight-knit and bonded together through creativity and art. Her two brothers Giorgio, 33, and Marco Mera, 24, like to play and write music together. Sounds from them playing an acoustic guitar can fll the whole house with instrumentals from songs such as “Blackbird” by The Beatles.
Giovanna Mera, 30, Sofa’s twin sister, is a freelance music instructor who teaches at various school music programs. Sofa’s mom, Veronica Mera, 56, attends El Camino to study as part of the applied music program and is the owner of a family pastry business, Cristal’s Classics.
The business started in 2007 when Veronica made pastries as a way to give back to their community while attending church events. She would work with a professional chef she knew; he would make dinner meals and she would bake gourmet desserts.
Word spread of Veronica’s baked goods and people would ask her to bake for special occasions. The ingredients of knowing people in their community and networking helped the family baking business take of and grow.
At home Veronica bakes desserts such as eclairs, cupcakes, cookies and croquembouche for custom orders with help from the family.
Giorgio and Marco contribute to Cristal’s Classics by creating brand logo and webpage designs, and help set up tables for pop-up events. Sofia and Giovanna help decorate flowers and other designs on cakes, other pastries and with marketing on Instagram.
Veronica said working with her family on Cristal’s Classics has “created a lot of lifelong memories.”
From designing pastries to painting
someone’s face with makeup, it’s all therapeutic to Sofa and contributes to honing her creative skills.
“It’s all the fne motor skills being able to work with my hands when I’m cutting hair, painting faces or puddle dusting cakes, it’s all my hands,” Mera said. “It all kind of overlaps in a weird way.”
Sofia’s family describes her as an inspiration to pursue their current goals and interests. Giorgio said seeing how Sofa has persevered through her cancer struggles over the years and continuing her education has motivated her siblings to continue their education.
“[Sofa] started [to go back to school] and we were like we should do this too, why not, let’s go get at it, ” Giorgio said.
Veronica said seeing Sofia turn her childhood interest in cosmetology into a career is inspiring because she sees her behind the scenes when she is nauseous and in tears but she keeps moving forward and not giving up.
“[Mia] may not know it right now but someday she is going to hearken back on these moments and see where it’s going to inspire her too,” Veronica said.
While continuing her education and dealing with lingering physical issues from her cancer diagnosis, Mera continues to raise her miracle baby.
“I have learned that you can prioritize your children and prioritize your goals, there’s a balance,” she said.
Mera wanted to go back to school after spending the last 10 years seeing medical specialists, working in freelance cosmetology and raising her daughter is to work on her own goals.
Mia is her motivation.
“I’m going to do this and that, I want [Mia] to look back and see I was able to do it and worked toward my goals,” Mera said.
Mera believes people should try out new things if they are motivated, just to see where it may lead them. She looks back at the start of her own career path when she was a teenager as an example.
“If it’s within your scope of challenging yourself, don’t say no,” Mera said. “See what’s on the other side of saying yes, it might be growth and greatness or it might be redirection and failure that just reroutes you a little bit.”
Story by Elise Fauni
Advertisements in a language I could barely understand, accompanied by the smell of fried fish meant I could only be in one place: the Philippines.
Except I wasn’t. This was Seafood City, the Filipino grocery store just five minutes away from my childhood home.
In Carson, being Filipino wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. In fact, almost a quarter of the city’s population is Filipino, according to a press release from the city of Carson. Growing up, I spent weekdays with my Filipino classmates and reserved weekends for loud Filipino family parties.
But when I was 7 years old, my mom’s job relocated my family to Humble, a suburban city in Houston, Texas.
My first Texan school consisted of mostly minorities, namely, Black students. Still, I couldn’t find any other Asian kids no matter how hard I tried.
According to the U.S Census Bureau, Asians only account for 0.9% of Humble’s population, while 56% of the
population is either Black or white. Being Filipino wasn’t something I shared anymore. All I had left of my Filipino community was the family I moved with. My aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents were still waiting for me back home in Carson.
But my parents had no problem
adjusting to Texan culture. If anything, my dad loved it. He gave his heart to Texan barbecue ribs and even started collecting guns. I never knew my dad liked guns until we moved to Texas.
Meanwhile, with my older sister entering seventh grade, she was too focused on her own social life to help me with navigating mine. It was as if in this new world, being Filipino became something that belonged only to me.
I went from having a huge circle of friends who understood me to teachers calling me “exotic” and kids calling me names. I was 7 years old when I was first called a racial slur against East Asians. The Philippines is in Southeast Asia. But in Texas, Asian is Asian and being Asian wasn’t the norm like it was in Carson.
I no longer fit the fabric of what it meant to be normal and with every passing day I tried harder and harder to get that back.
I changed the way I spoke. This meant learning to adopt Texan lingo, even if it was a little strange. By the first day of school, I learned the embarrassing way that putting crayons “up” didn’t mean literally holding the box in the air.
According to the Pew Research Center, Asians make up 7% of the United States population, with nearly one third of that 7% living in California alone.
I changed the snacks I liked. Ube Pillows and Pancit Canton weren’t options anymore. Instead, I timidly followed my mom around Walmart to throw Goldfish and Lunchables into our shopping cart.
Just as I began adjusting to the culture of my new school, my parents told my sister and I to pack our rooms into boxes once again. This time, I would be attending a predominantly white school in Atascosita, Texas.
The city’s population is 94.1% white while Asians only account for 0.8% of the population, according to the U.S Census Bureau.
I knew no other Asian kids at this school. It was clear that I needed to become white.
I hated being Filipino. I never brought it up at school unless someone decided to squint their eyes at me and call me “Chinese.” It seemed that being Filipino was the source of my social hardships.
I was at the top of my class academically. I was getting invited to events and contests and put in an accelerated reading class. My teachers loved me. Still, I could never earn the same appreciation from my peers. I lost my fourth grade student council election to my white classmate.
No big deal. What I did win that year was an invitation to my a sleepover.
I had one single friend: a white girl whose friends didn’t go to our school. She told me all about her big friend group from her soccer club and I told her all about my friends from track and field.
I never did track. That was a lie and so were the friends I told her I had.
Getting invited to my friend’s sleepover meant meeting her friends and maybe even becoming a part of a real-life friend group.
My excitement blinded me from the
isolating feeling of watchful eyes as I took my shoes off as I entered the house.
One girl told me I resembled a monkey, another snickering as she told me to keep my shoes off and climb the tree in the cul de sac outside.
I was just happy that these girls wanted to laugh with me.
But of course, they weren’t laughing with me, they were laughing at me. They never asked to stay in touch and I never saw them again.
A year later when I was 10 years old, my parents told us we were moving back to California. I felt as if I had let go of a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.
Just like that, my family moved to Torrance. I thought the war was over: I was finally going to be surrounded by people who understood me again.
However, being the token Filipino in an exclusively East Asian friend group was a new battle entirely. In Texas, I was too Asian. Now, I wasn’t Asian enough.
It was no longer a matter of fitting in; it was a matter of feeling beautiful.
“I’m Filipino!” I said, eagerly awaiting their reciprocated excitement.
For the first time, I was expressing this fact wholeheartedly. Never have I ever said those words that loud, that fast.
Seeing these girls made me realize that being Filipino wasn’t something I needed to hide. They certainly didn’t. They wore their culture loud and proud on their sleeves. I wanted to be just like these girls.
“I couldn’t tell you were Filipino,” my coworker said casually. Oh.
It’s funny. This was my goal my entire life. But at that moment, the comment made my stomach turn.
Her words followed me home that day. It was as if the ghost of my suppressed identity was coming back to haunt me.
I didn’t want to be someone else anymore. I wanted to be Filipino. I wanted people to know I was Filipino.
“Pinoy pride” is a universal expression of Filipino nationalism. It encapsulates the feeling of belonging among Filipino people. It makes strangers feel like
“To be Filipino is to be loved and that includes loving yourself.”
I sat out as my friends shared makeup because the shades “didn’t compliment my skin color.”
I listened as they complained about “being too tan” when I was noticeably several shades tanner than them.
I spent my high school years giving it my all to look East Asian. It didn’t work. The makeup was obviously made for fair skin and my stubborn Filipino tan was unwilling to cooperate.
The battle against the East Asian beauty standard followed me until I entered college, where I was finally freed from the high school cliques and social warfare.
By my second semester of college at El Camino, I got my first part-time job at a boba shop about a 15 minute drive from my house.
To my surprise, several of my coworkers were Filipino.
Not only that, but they were cool. Cool Filipino girls with cool clothes and cool cars. I almost felt starstruck.
My eyes lit up when they asked about my ethnicity.
family. It’s the foundation of our community. To be Filipino is to be loved and that includes loving yourself.
Growing up, I didn’t even want to be Filipino. Instead of showing off my heritage, I was embarrassed by it. I buried it deep underneath the Lunchables and the Korean makeup.
This year, I put the Filipino flag in my Instagram bio.
To everyone else, it’s just that – a flag. To me, it signified that I had finally laid my worst years to rest. I was no longer hiding being Filipino, nor was I merely accepting the fact – I was embracing it. This was my way of expressing my own Pinoy pride.
Sometimes I still feel like I’m chasing something I’m not. There are parts of the Filipino-American identity that I can’t attach myself to: I can’t speak Tagalog, I’m not good at singing and I’m not becoming a nurse. Still, I’m filled with the endless unconditional love of others and myself.
And that is undeniably Filipino.
By Erica Lee
Ifelt it on the second set.
4… 5… 6…
That burning sensation creeping up my arm every time I lifted the 15 pound dumbbell to my chest.
7… 8… 9…
15 pounds today, because I couldn’t find the 12.5 pound set.
10… 11… 12…
The Planet Fitness at the Carson Towne Center was never good at keeping their gym equipment together. The weights I need are always missing.
13…
That burn pulsates with each rep. I’m regretting the weights. I’m regretting going on a low energy
day. I’d rather be in bed, watching “The Day of the Jackal.”
14…
Deep breath… just one more rep, then rest. But it’s getting harder to move my arm and I know I’m going to be shaking once this whole ordeal is done.
15…
Thunk! The weight drops at my feet. My arm is numb, trembling, screaming from relief.
I look up at the wall-sized mirror.
I look like garbage.
I feel like garbage.
My face is still flushed from the halfhour run on the treadmill earlier, hair sticking out to make an even messier bun and sweat stains are pooling
around my neck and under my arms.
It’s almost the end of January and the gym is packed with people. But I’m not here to fulfill a new year’s resolution.
I’m here to try something I saw in a video game.
“The Last of Us Part II” is game developer Naughty Dog’s follow-up to their blockbuster 2013 actionadventure game of the same name. This time, the main character Ellie is grown up and on her own as she seeks vengeance for the murder of her surrogate father, Joel.
The sequel to the “Last of Us” was controversial when it was first released in 2020.
One of the reasons was due to Ellie’s
nemesis, Abby Anderson.
It wasn’t just because of what Abby did in the game, which - spoiler alert - was beating Joel to death with a golf club while Ellie was forced to watch.
Gamers had a problem with how she looked. Abby is a beast; she’s tall and rippling with muscle.
They took to Reddit and Gamefaqs message boards to speculate about how she could have achieved a jacked physique after seeing her workout plan and her weights, 20 pounds, in-game.
And the discourse got ugly, fast. On Gamefaqs, users were leaving comments including “women don’t become like that even with steroids… Abby is [literally] a woman’s head on a
of physical activity per week.
My biggest problem wasn’t how much I could lift.
It was pushing through my chronic excuse-making.
I’m tired. I have to go to work later. It’s too late. It’s too crowded. I have nothing to listen to.
Every time, I had to remind myself that I had to see this experiment through. Tired? You’ll feel better later. Have work today? Find the time before work. Can’t find something to listen to? You can watch “Futurama” on your phone, on the treadmill.
The workout plan from “The Last of Us” is basically a maintenance schedule. It’s impossible to get to
“My biggest problem wasn’t how much I could lift. It was pushing through my chronic excuse-making.”
man’s body.”
I wanted to see what would happen if I tried the workout plan as seen in the game. Was there any legitimacy to it? Or did a game developer throw it in without a second thought?
From Jan. 1 to Feb. 28, I hit the gym four days a week. For the first month, I alternated between upper body, jogging and full body workouts. The second month focused on full body as well as lower body and weights. On Saturdays, I did yoga.
“The Last of Us” doesn’t show what Abby does on “leg day.” So I made exercise plans with the help of a Planet Fitness instructor, YouTube and even Google AI.
I also had to work with my limits.
As impressive as it would be to bench press 50 pounds, I will accidentally crush myself.
As it turns out, Abby’s plan is feasible.
Abby’s size, especially for someone who just started lifting weights. She is a post-apocalyptic soldier with years of discipline and training.
Having been a casual gamer for over 20 years, it’s unfair to see Abby get this criticism. You don’t see the criticism it with male characters, such as Duke Nukem or Kratos. Or even female characters who still look feminine, like Lara Croft or Chun-Li.
As a society, America is hostile to the idea of what a woman should look like.
You can be thin, you can be curvy, but you can’t have broad shoulders, big biceps and a flat stomach or even a gut and still call yourself a “girl.”
Young women, from actor Millie Bobbie Brown to university freshman, say that social media hurts their selfimage.
American rugby player Ilona Maher made a tearful Tiktok addressing
down accusations that she was a man competing in a woman’s sport. Israeli judoka Inbar Lanir posted on Instagram about how she was “afraid to look muscular. [She] was afraid to look male” at 12 years old.
All three women won medals in their respective sport during the 2024 Summer Olympics in Paris.
If an Olympian can get body shamed, what chance do I have?
I’m 5’2” with thick arms and legs. My body type doesn’t look as impressive on a shorter frame.
In fact, I look stumpy.
I once got singled out to play a farm animal in a school assembly because the teacher thought I “looked strong.”
An ex-roommate called me an “oddly-built dyke.” As if my gym-going habits also decided my sexuality.
By mid-February, I was starting to see the results: the muscle tone in my arms, the flatter stomach and how my uniform now fit me better me as I was getting ready for my customer service job at LAX.
Later that shift, my coworkers and the Prosegur baggage porter were gobsmacked after they saw me easily lift a 50 pound suitcase off the baggage claim carousel.
On first our anniversary, I literally swept my boyfriend off his feet and into a kiss after he gave me roses.
My sister jokes that if I continue, I’m going to look like Luisa from “Encanto” by the end of the year.
Those 15 pound dumbbells don’t hurt as much by the end of February.
I am never going to be stick-thin, nor will I be voluptuous.
But “strong” suits me better.
Recipe and photos by
Angel Pasillas
This rich and flavorful meal provides all the necessary nutrients for a balanced and healthy diet and most importantly all the ingredients are available at the Warrior Pantry.This meal packs plenty of protein from the beans, chicken and healthy greens to the onions, bell peppers and zucchini. Prepare this simple but delicious meal next time you pick up food from the Warrior Pantry.
Warrior Pantry ingredients
• 1 bag of red beans
• 1 onion
• 1-pound of chicken thighs
• 1 bell pepper
• 3 zucchinis
Home ingredients
• 3 ½ tablespoons of salt
• 1 ½ tablespoons of black pepper
• ½ tablespoons of olive oil
1
Start by rinsing the full bag of red beans, the bell pepper and zucchini. Add the beans to a large pot along with water that covers the beans with up to 2 inches.
2
Boil the beans for fve minutes, then turn of the stove and let it rest in the water for an hour. Next, peel the the onion and chop it in half. Keep one of the halves intact and slice the other half across the grain. Grab the bell pepper and slice it into thin pieces, remove the stem and seeds. Finally, cut the ends of the zucchinis, then dice them lengthwise into quarterinch-thick strips and add salt and pepper.
3
Cut the chicken thighs and add 1 tablespoon of salt and 1 tablespoon of black pepper. From there, get a pan and add ½ tablespoon of olive oil. Cook the chicken for 35 minutes on medium to high heat. Set the chicken aside when cooked. Throw the bell pepper and onion slices into the pan and cook until they become soft.
4
Pour out the water used to soak the beans using a strainer. Add the beans to an Instant Pot along with the other half of the onion, two cloves of garlic, two tablespoons of salt and water. Close the Instant Pot and set it to “beans/ chili mode.” If there isn’t an Instant Pot in your vicinity, cook the beans in a large pot on low-tomedium heat for three hours. Place the zucchinis in another pan on high heat and fip them every three minutes until they are charred. Put them inside a plastic container, allowing them to steam.
5
When the bell peppers and onions soften, turn the stove to low heat and add the chicken back to the pan. Stir the pan and place the lid over it for about three minutes, allowing all the flavors to combine. Turn of the stove and set the pan aside, while keeping the lid on. When the beans are fnished cooking, vent the Instant Pot and throw out the onion and the garlic cloves. Grab a plate and fll it up with your fajitas, red beans and zucchini.
Colleges and universities remain a safe space even as the Trump administration
administration tries to instill fear
Story by Angel Pasillas
Driven across the border with the help of a family friend through a legal port of entry along the United StatesMexico border, an El Camino College student who was 6 months old at the time was able to bypass immigration ofcials.
His parents weren’t as fortunate. They had to sneak into the U.S. with the help of “coyotes,” who are people who help migrants cross and evade border patrol along the U.S.-Mexico border.
The El Camino College student, now 20, said during the days following Donald Trump’s second Inauguration, he observed that some businesses were empty and there was less trafc.
“It was the fear that ICE raids were taken more seriously. They’ve always been around, but it was mainly towards criminals,” he said.
He said during that time, he was terrifed as well.
“I did not go out for like a whole week. For a whole week, I was just in my room or in my house. I did not go out no matter what, at the thought of like…ICE knocking on my door,” the El Camino student said.
The student said his plan to keep himself and his family safe, is to remain under the radar.
“Every migrant, when they come here, is like, OK, we don’t want you to smoke, we don’t want you to do drugs. Please keep a good record,” he said.
His story is one of many. At El Camino, hundreds of students are undocumented, according to the California Community Colleges Chancellor’s Office. While the actual number of students who are undocumented is unknown, according to the Chancellor’s Office DataMart website, 163 students at the college have their citizenship status labeled as “other” or “unknown.”
Viviana Unda, the director of Institutional Research and Planning at ECC, said that the college’s Office of Institutional Research & Planning does not collect any specific information related to a student’s immigration status.
Currently there are 11 million
undocumented migrants living in the United States, according to a study by the Pew Research Center in 2022.
When Trump announced his intention to run in the 2016 presidential election, immigration was at the forefront of his campaign, with all three of his presidential campaigns being centered on illegal immigration.
For instance, the Pew Research Center reported that in the 2024 election, 82% of Trump voters polled ranked immigration as the second most important issue to them, only behind the economy. Moreover, Trump promised to curtail border crossing throughout his campaign.
One of Trump’s earliest actions as president during his second term was declaring a national emergency at the U.S.-Mexico border.
Trump deployed the U.S. military on the southern border to assist the U.S. Border Patrol in securing the border.
From 2022-2024, Border Patrol encountered more than two million migrants attempting to cross in each of those years, according to the U.S. Customs and Border Protection website.
Jaime Ruiz, a public afairs specialist at U.S. Customs and Border Protection, said that migrant encounters are at historically low levels.
Victor Narro, the Project Director for the UCLA Labor Center and Core Faculty for the UCLA Department of Labor Studies, said both republicans and democrats haven’t been the greatest regarding immigration, with both President Biden and Trump deporting millions of people during their terms.
Narro said the main difference between the previous presidents is that the Trump administration has been more punitive. He added that both Obama and Biden tried to pass immigration reform bills through Congress but didn’t have enough votes.
“You have a president today who doesn’t believe in the laws, doesn’t follow the laws when it relates to immigration,” Narro said.
The ECC student said he knew someone who was deported under Biden in October 2024 and who still keeps in contact with them.
“They originally lived here for a good while, but fnancially, it wasn’t the best for them, so they decided to go back to Mexico and he did a sacrifce of trying to
Mexico and he did a sacrifice of trying to come back to LA to provide for his family and as he made it ICE pretty much deported him back,” he said.
He said his friend was held in detention for roughly two months.
“From what he told me was the room could be cold, and you’re given like a really thin blanket and you’re not really treated as well,” he said.
Back at El Camino, Josefina Cruz Molina, the coordinator of the Immigrant Student Success Center, said students have shared their concerns with her about the Trump presidency.
“People are afraid, they,…are panicking right, they’re afraid for the future. They’re concerned about having to come to school and see ICE around,” she said.
The Immigrant Student Success Center helps students with counseling, financial aid assistance and free legal services through CHIRLA.
Mariella Solano, 25, is a CHIRLA representative who works in the Student Legal Services Department at her organization. Solano said she assists El Camino students, staff and faculty with free legal immigration aid, such as with
DACA renewals and naturalization.
Appointments are made on Findyourally and can be done in-person or online.
Solano said that since the second Trump administration, her organization has seen a lot of demand for its services.
“Everyone wants to know if there’s anything else that they are eligible for, if they’re already a legal permanent resident, they might want to make that jump to become a citizen,” Solano said.
Appointments are made on FindYourAlly and can be done inperson or online.
The Immigrant Student Success Center used to host events such as Immigrant Family Night, but had to scale back on hosting events.
“We don’t want to scare people, inviting them, putting out the label right out there. It’s scary, people are not gonna want to join that,” Molina said.
Before coming to El Camino College, Molina worked at a non-profit called Centro Cha, located in Long Beach. The organization provides free immigration legal services.
She arrived in the United States in 2008 from El Salvador at age 14 with
her family as green card holders.
Molina said her desire to help immigrants comes from her own experience. She said she sees herself and her family in the people she helps.
The ECC student said the reason why his parents came to the U.S. was that they wanted to give him a better future.
“In Mexico, there aren’t many opportunities, especially from most parts, there are gangs, as everyone knows and because of violence in general,” he said.
The ECC student said he entered the country using someone else’s identity.
“My family knew someone over here [the U.S] who had a newborn who was born the same day as me and they were a girl…when you’re a newborn, you don’t have much details to go off of… the guy decided to bring his daughter’s passport, his newborn baby, go to Mexico and essentially take me in as ‘quote unquote his daughter,’” he said.
He said where his parents are from, kids have to work at an early age to support their families.
The student said he has lived in the U.S. for 20 years. He considers himself both Mexican and American.
The student born in Mexico said he has felt different because of his immigration status. The student said he felt unsupported when seeking help with financial aid. He said that when he sought help for financial aid, he added the workers assumed he was a FAFSA student.
“They didn’t give me a chance to speak and I said, ‘I’m not a FAFSA, I’m a DREAM Act student.’ They were like…oh well, we didn’t know. And I was like, well, you never asked,” he said.
The California Dream Act allows undocumented immigrants who came to the U.S. as minors to receive state financial aid as long as they meet the requirements.
Transfer counselor Jaime Gallegos, 38, has been the adviser of the UndocuWarriors club for two years. He said he became the adviser for the club because he has always worked with undocumented students throughout his time in higher education.
Gallegos said during the first Trump administration, he, along with fellow counselors Rene Lozano and Cynthia Mosqueda, began hosting “know-yourrights” campaigns to help students. before there was a center that offered those resources at El Camino.
During Trump’s first term, the red cards that provide legal advice were being distributed to students.
Gallegos said a lot of the initiatives were led by student action.
“The fact that we have a new space for undocumented students, right in the Communications Building, is because of student advocacy,” Gallegos said.
He said before programs and spaces existed that catered towards undocumented students, that they sought and reached out to faculty members for reliable information about financial aid and about their rights. Gallegos said that since Trump’s reelection, a difficulty that has come up is meeting in a physical space.
Gallegos said there are laws in place that protect all students regardless of their immigration status.
FERPA (Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act) and California Senate Bill 54 prevent educational facilities from sharing private student information with law enforcement agencies.
Red Cards with legal advice for immigrants as seen distributed over the El Camino campus. Josefna Cruz Molina, the Immigrant Student Success Center coordinator said she ordered 7,000 cards for the college campus. The cards were created by the Immigrant Legal Resource Center and are free to order from their website.
Narro said FERPA protects undocumented students by not allowing the federal government to obtain information on which students qualify for AB 540, a California law that allows certain nonresident students to pay instate tuition at public colleges and universities.
Molina said that compliance with ICE agents is not required of college employees. They are to direct the officials to the Vice President of Student Services, Jeff Stephenson or campus police. If the vice president isn’t present while ICE agents are on campus, the college has lawyers who will review the documents from ICE officials, Molina said.
Gallegos said the only way ICE can obtain student information is through a court order. He added ICE doesn’t often have court orders.
He said ICE uses imtimidation tactics to create a sense of fear, hoping people will out themselves.
Narro said ICE officials do not have
permission to enter private spaces such as classrooms and offices unless they have a judicial warrant.
Gallegos said the college could improve on getting the word out on the legal protections for students.
“If you’re in a classroom, ICE can’t come in…so there’s protected spaces on our campus. But I think we need to do a better job of you know highlighting that,” he said.
Gallegos added that federal immigration officials have not visited the college campus, but if they were to ever set foot, that there are procedures in place to protect students.
Despite colleges being a safe space for students, that hasn’t stopped some federal immigration officials from setting foot at some college campuses in the country. As reported by the Gaurdian, back in March, ICE agents arrived at Columbia University’s campus in New York. The agents tried to arrest Ranjani Srinivasan, a student at Columbia, but were unable to after
trying to enter her dorm room without a judicial warrant.
Narro specified that administrative warrants and judicial warrants are different. He said you do not have to honor administrative warrants, which he said are signed by ICE supervisors and not judges.
Gallegos said the ECCPD can ease student concerns by releasing a public statement saying that they will not comply with ICE orders.
El Camino College Police Chief Matthew Vander Horck, who prior to becoming the chief of police, spent 35 years in law enforcement, said in a phone call that the ECCPD does not enforce federal immigration law.
“We don’t work with ICE, they’re a federal law enforcement agency. So we don’t have any joint agreements with them.” Vander Horck said.
Vander Horck said the El Camino PD area of responsibility includes the college campus, the remote college campuses in Hawthorne and Inglewood and the nearby surrounding areas.
Vander Horck said there are some exceptions in which law enforcement can enter private areas.
“The exception to that ruling is if they have a valid judicial warrant or exigent circumstance,” Vander Horck said.
Narro said by invoking the Alien Enemies Act, Trump has sought to dismiss Fourth Amendment protections from unreasonable searches and seizures by the government.
Trump invoked the Alien Enemies Act on March 15, claiming Tren de Aragua, a criminal organization in Venezuela. According to the presidential action signed by Trump, Tren de Aragua is conducting irregular warfare and undertaking hostile actions against the United States.
On the same day, the Trump administration began deporting Venezuelan migrants to El Salvador. According to the UN, 245 Venezuelans and 30 Salvadorans were deported to CECOT, a prison in El Salvador.
Narro said the Trump administration is authoritarian.
“They don’t care about due process, they don’t care about the Constitution… they don’t care about the balance of power,’’ Narro said.
He said that the Trump administration has argued that they have broad jurisdiction to target immigrants because they claim they are going after criminals and are at war and added that the Trump administration has been violating the Constitution by denying people their due process rights.
“Judges have upheld that you have due process rights if you are in this country regardless of your immigration status,” he said.
Narro claimed that the U.S. is in a dire situation because of a president who doesn’t respect the rule of law.
“The biggest danger that we have today, that we haven’t seen before, is a president who chooses intentionally to violate the constitution, violate due process, ignore judicial court orders…he does what he wants to do,” he said.
Story and photos by Erica Lee
As temperatures ramp up, it’s more important than ever to protect the skin you’re in. Warrior Life magazine asked esthetician students in El Camino College’s cosmetology program what their go-to sunscreens are. From viral formulas that go on clear to no-touch applicators for busy lifestyles, here are the top five picks Warrior Life found.
1. La Roche Posay Anthelios UV Clear
For those with acne and rosacea, rejoice! This light, nongreasy formula by La Roche Posay will not clog your pores. Its Cell-Ox shield protects from 98% of UVB rays, which causes that nasty burning sensation after prolonged sun exposure. At $39.99 for 1.7 fluid ounces, it is pricey but worth protecting your skin from the sun.
2. Supergoop! Unseen Sunscreen
This is more than just a TikTok favorite. Its weightless, invisible application makes it an ideal makeup primer. Supergoop’s chamomile and licorice root formula improve skin clarity, making it a go-to for all skin types and shades. It comes in three sizes: mini (0.68 fluid ounces), full size (1.7 fluid ounces) and jumbo (2.5 fluid ounces), and prices range from $22 to $48.
3. Black Girl Sunscreen
This sunscreen both protects and moisturizes. Black Girl Sunscreen’s formula leaves no white residue, perfect for people of color looking for an extra layer of protection. The avocado and jojoba soothes and moisturizes the skin, reducing the risk of premature aging. Prices range from $9.99 to 16.99 for 3 fluid ounces depending on the retailer.
4. E.L.F. Suntouchable Invisi-stick
Don’t let its honey hue fool you, E.L.F’s Suntouchable Invisi-stick glides on clear, easy to apply and adjustable. It is water resistant for up to 80 minutes, making it an ideal choice for student athletes and those with on-the-go lifestyles. This pick, which clocks in at 0.68 fluid ounces, will run you $14.
5. Trader Joe’s Daily Facial Sunscreen
A near-perfect dupe of Supergoop!, Trader Joe’s Daily Facial Sunscreen has it all. Its smooth gel-like consistency leaves no residue. As a primer, it helps makeup last longer but is just as good on those days where you want to go barefaced. At $8.99 for 1.7 fluid ounces, it is the most budget-friendly pick of the list.
Story by Eddy Cermeno
While working outside the Tom Bradley International Terminal at LAX, I saw my dad walking toward me with a coworker.
“What a beautiful thing to work together as father and son!” the coworker said when she passed me. I chuckled and nodded in agreement and then looked at my dad.
A kind smile overtook him. An expression I’m not used to seeing.
Since I started working with SmarteCarte at LAX in June 2022, I have met many of my dad’s coworkers and friends. He has worked at the airport for over 35 years with multiple parking companies and now collecting luggage carts around the airport for SmartCarte.
Many coworkers were excited to finally see me in person and asked for updates on my academic journey.
I was stunned. My dad had been keeping his coworkers and friends at the airport informed about my schoolwork and career ambitions.
Conversations with my dad about school and my personal life did not happen often since we didn’t talk much with each other before I started working at the airport.
The last three years working at LAX has allowed me to see my dad from a different perspective.
Growing up I did not interact with my dad often. Most of his time was occupied at work during the week.
Most memories I have as a kid include my mom and friends.
Very few include my dad.
There were a couple of Saturday mornings when I was in middle school where he took me to work with him.
I saw glimpses of his work life. From his interactions with coworkers I noticed he was a different person.
He greeted everyone with enthusiasm. People would all reply back and talk if they had time.
Whenever my dad comes home he greets me and asks how my day was. I would give a short meaningless response.
I consider myself to be introverted and reserved. This seems to be inherited from my dad who behaves the same.
I got used to not having anything more than basic conversations with my dad.
The rare days when we were both home for a whole day came on weekends. On these days, he would run errands
and leave the house while I played video games or went over to a friend’s house.
My mom took it upon herself to do activities with me, like going to the park or working on fun projects together.
Moments when me and my dad were around each other came when we sat together in the living room to watch a sports game.
Sports was one thing we had in common. We would have conversations mid-game about plays, players and argue about foul calls made by a referee.
When the game was over, so was our brief connection. I went about my day and he rested for the next work day.
Our inconsistent communication continued until I graduated high school in 2014 and moved to live on campus at Cal Poly Pomona for an academic calendar year. Then I took a break from school, until 2017 when I enrolled at El Camino College.
replicate it in a busy airport environment.
Our job requires us to wear safety vests which attracts passengers who are struggling to find their way around LAX.
As people would come to us for help I guided them to my dad. He answered every question from getting an Uber, rental car or catching a connecting flight and satisfied every distressed passenger.
I was attentive to every word he said to learn the information myself and saw how he was glad and supportive to people who needed help.
After a couple of weeks, I started to have the same interactions with passengers and frustrations on the job I would hear my dad mention over time.
I spoke to him about dealing with a confused passenger who had no idea where to go to catch their connecting flight at another terminal.
I was having more than a basic conversation with my dad. We were
“ From his interactions with coworkers I noticed he was a different person. ”
During that time I continued to not have much interaction or conversations with my dad.
In the summer of 2022, my dad came home from work and instead of our usual short greeting, he asked if I wanted to go work with him.
A position with SmarteCarte at LAX had opened up, I needed the financial income so I applied. Later I realized I was going to relive my days as a kid going with my dad to work.
Sons working with their fathers at the same job isn’t uncommon. According to a U.S. Census Bureau survey paper written by Martha Stinson and Christopher Wignall, they found 8.2% of sons work with the same employer as their father, after using a 2010 U.S. Census Bureau survey and IRS W-2 forms.
During my first days on the job, he helped train me. With ease my dad was pulling 15 to 20 luggage carts with a rope and putting them in designated areas for collection by other coworkers.
I was impressed with his physical prowess and nervous about having to
discussing things on the job going back and forth sharing stories.
When our shifts were over and we prepared to go back home, conversations about work would transition to other topics in life and society.
On my non-work work days we revert back to the simple “hellos” and “how was your day” interactions whenever he peeks his head through my bedroom door when he gets home.
However, working alongside my dad at LAX has made me appreciate the times we delve into longer conversations and interactions together. It feels like I am making up for lost time of getting to be around him.
Just like LAX passengers who ask him for help and guidance at the airport, I am starting to break through our comfort zone more often by approaching him to begin conversations outside of work in order to be more familiar with him.
I want to continue transitioning my current coworker connection I have with him, to a father-son relationship I feel I have missed out on.
How Covid changed life for me and my lungs for the worst
The rise of another battle caused me to don my armor again for life
Story by Argentina Talley
Anger. Frustration. Exhaustion.
These are the primary emotions and sensations I feel when I can’t breathe.
I internally sufocate, leaving me more fatigued and out of breath afterward than when it frst happens – and even with the inhaler that I use to control it, I am burdened with the heavy load of tiredness and tightness in my chest and neck. Like a fish outside of its tank, I have to gasp for air, desperately needing to get toward more oxygen as quickly as I can possible.
If I don’t address it right away, I experience pain, discomfort – and a sense of dread, paired with a headache and pressure around my eyes and head. Sitting in a classroom full of people
who have no idea what I’m going through when I’m enduring an attack, gives me the all-too-familiar ache of loneliness and sadness. They simply cannot feel or even experience the frightening episodes of this debilitating respiratory disease, which makes it hard for them to understand just how challenging it is to work and concentrate in class.
However, I have realized over time that I am not alone in fighting this chronically discomforting health condition.
According to the Asthma and Allergy Foundation of America, in the U.S. alone, around 28 million individuals have been diagnosed with asthma, equaling about 1 in 12 people.
My journey in battling this chronic, incurable disease has been an
unexpected and long one.
As a child, I never understood what the word “asthma” meant.
I heard my parents use it many times, even at doctor’s appointments. All I could ever remember was a blue, L-shaped object with an orange cap that was given to me at our small clinic.
It wasn’t until my second wave of asthma hit me again at age 19. My mother revealed to me the entire story behind my usage of those odd looking things, which were inhalers.
When I was 8 months old, my mother was washing me in the bathtub and out of the blue, she noticed that I was turning purple very rapidly.
In a panic, she called my father and my sisters to check on me. They rushed me to one of the local hospitals in the area.
When we arrived, the doctor on staff diagnosed me with childhood asthma.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had to carry my inhaler with me, although I do not recall my asthma being too severe. By the time I reached middle school, I didn’t need it anymore. From that point on, I was living a life free of difculty breathing.
That was only the beginning. A conception of a more terrifying nightmare that, up to now, has changed my life forever and will always stay with me for life.
In 2020, a few months into the pandemic, my mother and I were in the state of Washington, visiting my sister and her family since I was taking online classes at the time.
On the plane back to LA, we were required to wear masks, however, since they gave us food and beverages, we could take them off to eat and drink although we had to put them back on immediately after.
We were nervous about taking of our masks, but despite our fears, we decided to do so.
When we arrived back home, I was tired and sick. It was not a fu kind of feeling, with a sore throat, coughing and congestion. It was more consistent with body aches, headache, fatigue and a loss of appetite for food or water.
I had COVID.
Slowly but gradually, I recovered and my life went back to normal, or so I thought by then.
Several months later, I was at home one evening, doing chores and working around the house. I felt unusually tired, almost as if I didn’t get enough sleep and I decided to head to my room to rest. It was heavy, like sleepiness and whatever
1. Wheezing
2. Shortness of breath
3. Persistent cough
4. Chest tightness
5. Fatigue that doesn’t go away
Source: Cleveland Clinic
it was, didn’t go away, even though I laid down and took a nap.
Within a few days, my mom noticed that I seemed out of breath lately and I wasn’t doing OK.
She suggested I go to the doctor to be checked out, although I was hesitant to do so. I believed that sooner or later, these symptoms would go away.
They didn’t.
At that point, I fnally surrendered to her advice and went to get a physical check-up done.
At the clinic, my doctor explained to
stronger than what we deal with and that it shouldn’t stop me from living my life everyday to the fullest.
The struggles are still there, waiting to pull me down.
But in spite of all that, I still have prevailed and am making the most to cope with this incurable sickness.
“ I feel so exhausted, so powerless and hopeless, almost as if my power had been taken away from me in order to do basic things that every other human being can do with a snap of their fngers.”
me that COVID could have retriggered my asthma, which had been tucked away for so many years and that I would need to use a rescue inhaler for it.
Five years since that doctor’s visit, my asthma is worsening, little by little. With every workout, every change in the weather and even the dust and pollen from outside, something always triggers my asthma, giving me discomfort.
Despite all of these challenges I’ve faced in my life regarding this horrifc condition, I’ve been able to obtain a sense of peace and remain strong in who I am, with a strong support system of family, friends and my church.
It hasn’t been easy, being able to navigate the everyday hurdle of not being able to breathe.
I feel so exhausted, so powerless and hopeless, almost as if my power had been taken away from me in order to do basic things that every other human being can do with a snap of their fngers.
My mother always tells me that no matter what we suffer in “este vida,” translated to “this life”, that we’re
• Asthma and Allergy Foundation of America (AAFA)
• American Lung Association (ALA)
• Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC)
• Asthma and Allergy Network (AAN)
• U.S Environmental Protection Agency (EPA)
• The AAFA’s Health, Equity, Advancement and Leadership program
• Food Allergy and Anaphylaxis Connection Team
Sources: National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute, the Asthma and Allergy Foundation of America, and the American College of Allergy, Asthma, and Immunology
By Elise Fauni
It’s nearing midnight on a Friday in Gardena.
The streets are dark, empty and silent. But inside CideShow Rehearsal Studios, rooms along the maze of hallways are filled with the sounds of instruments as bands rehearse their music.
Four sharp clicks of drumsticks is the quietest the room ever gets.
Hanbyoul Lozano, 20, glances at his bandmates from on top of the wooden drum riser, about 6 inches off the ground, before snapping his drumsticks together, bringing in the beat of a song. Suddenly, he’s slamming the drums, fully immersed in the beat of the original song “Ruminate.”
The rest of the band immediately joins in. Zeuz Carrillo and Masai Garcia on electric guitar and Josefina Campos with her bass, standing at the microphone. Through several twists and turns is Room I. Within the room’s
floors and soundproof ceiling, Campos’s vocals accompany Carrillo and Garcia’s electric guitars, supported by Lozano’s drum beat.
Together, the four of them form Speaking of Her, an alternative-rock band composed of current and former El Camino students.
The band has performed a handful of gigs, including a performance at Brittania Pub in Santa Monica alongside other rising artists, including The
Psychedelic Flys, Evolana and Berrak.
Gigs the band has performed have been by invitation from venues as well as other bands, with a recent show that occurred on May 9 at Junior High, an event space in Glendale.
Each member – either self-taught or guided by mentors – brings their own musical histories to the stage.
Carrillo began teaching himself guitar as a quarantine hobby during the COVID-19 pandemic.
“It was because of quarantine, I picked up a guitar because I had nothing else to do at the house,” Carrillo said.
Forced inside due to social distancing regulations, Carrillo would pick up his guitar to learn how to cover some of his favorite songs. Before long, he was creating songs of his own.
Carrillo, 20, was attending ECC as a music major when he met Garcia in professor Jonathan Minei’s guitar class at El Camino in fall 2023. One day, Garcia passed by as Carrillo filled the Music Building hallway outside of their class with the strums of his guitar.
Garcia eventually joined him for a quick jam session. He had recently began writing songs before his first year at the college.
This quick jam session became the start of something new. The two quickly realized their musical chemistry and continued to play together. They spent the semester covering songs on their guitars, something Garcia had been doing before attending ECC.
“It’s really the biggest kind of payoff,” Minei said. “[Students] are playing guitar – not for the grade or the class, or to finish an assignment – but because they love the instrument.”
Minei runs the guitar program at the college. As a professor, Minei encourages students to play their instruments together.
“The guitar, from its inception, has always been communal,” Minei said. “The guitar is happiest when it’s accompanying the singer or accompanying another instrument.”
Campos was also one of Minei’s students. Unlike Garcia and Carrillo, however, she was taking Minei’s songwriting course.
Campos, 20, grew up around music .
After singing for her elementary school choir, she eventually picked
up the electric bass in middle school – a recommendation for a beginner-friendly option from Jefferson Middle School’s band director. However, in high school, Campos transitioned into pit (stationary percussion instruments) for West Torrance High School’s drumline, taking a break from bass.
Carrillo and Garcia heard Campos playing her music when the two visited her songwriting class together on the last day of the semester.
“Dude, she would sound so good with our music,” Garcia recalls saying to Carrillo, visions of what the three could produce filling his thoughts.
The duo spoke with Campos after her class, inviting her to join their music journey. About a week later, Campos,
Carrillo and Garcia met for a jam session. Campos then joined the two as a singer, also returning to the bass, filling the band’s bassist position.
However, the band still needed to fill one more position: their drummer.
Lozano, who is majoring in psychology, first began playing the drums in his eighth-grade steel drums class at Magruder Middle School in Torrance.
He then played on and off during high school before eventually making his return to music during his senior year as a drummer for North High’s drumline, as well as percussion for his church.
One day, Garcia and his friends went around campus, interviewing students for fun.
Walking around with instruments,
they came across a student and asked him if he played any instruments himself, while also mentioning that Garcia was looking for a drummer.
The student themselves didn’t play the drums and referred Garcia to a friend who he knew did.
This friend didn’t end up playing for the band, but introduced them to Lozano, who eventually became Speaking of Her’s official drummer.
“Once it got to this point with the four of us, it was solid,” Campos said.
With Carrillo and Garcia as guitarists, Campos as a lead singer and bassist and Lozano on drums, alternative-rock band Speaking of Her was formed.
The name “Speaking of Her” came naturally to Campos as the four friends bounced name ideas back and forth via group chat.
The four currently balance work, band activities. For Campos, Lozano and Garcia, school.
The beginning of the band’s journey kicked off in an extra room in Campos’s
father’s home in Torrance. During the summer of 2024, the four would spend up to seven hours rehearsing music.
However, after Campos moved into her mother’s apartment, the band lost their practice room.
But the band still found another solution - paying $35 for four hours using a space at CideShow Rehearsal Studios in Gardena.
However, with school in session, band activities fight for time.
“We’re all building our lives simultaneously,” Campos said. “But we definitely dedicate the time that we do have to the band and to music.”
Thus, the band members meet at their rehearsal studio two to three times a week, whenever their schedules align.
Through the narrow maze of CideShow Rehearsal Studio’s hallways is a room booming with the sound of the band’s music.
Carrillo, his black curly hair framing his face that is studded with eyebrow and lip piercings, strums his electric guitar, filling the air with its sound.
On the other side of the room, Garcia plays his own guitar, his intense strums contrasting Carrillo’s more precise notes.
Bouncing along to the beat, Campos contributes the bass notes to the song before singing into the microphone. Her shoulder-length hair dances animatedly with her head as she moves to the instrumentals. She’s dressed head to toe in an outfit inspired by 90s grunge, showing off four tattoos — one of which Campos got done in Vietnam.
Her smooth, honey-like vocals seem to fit the grungy, loud instrumentals, capturing the emotional stories of the band’s music.
In instrumental breaks, Campos turns to her bandmates, slightly swaying. She offers her guitarists a smile.
Speaking of Her also brings their friends to their rehearsals — a continuous pillar of support for the band.
Lauren Udagawa typically attends the band’s rehearsals around two to three times a month.
Udagawa met the group through Lozano, whom she’s been friends with since the two were in high school. First attending their rehearsals in spring 2024, Udagawa’s presence on the couch of the rehearsal studio became constant as she grew closer to the band.
“Each member has always been
talented and brought a lot to the table since the beginning,” Udagawa said, reflecting on the band’s growth. “They’re not afraid to be experimental with new
speakers, but blend together cohesively to form the instrument break.
“We just wanted a section where we really just play together,” Garcia said,
“If it wasn’t for how passionate we all are about music, we definitely could not be doing it because of how difficult it tends to be.”
- Hanbyoul Lozano
ideas into the songs they work on.”
At rehearsals, Udagawa comments between songs, helping with volume mixing and creating an enthusiastic and supportive atmosphere.
“They do a really good job of translating human emotion very beautifully into songs, whether it’s heavy or lighthearted,” Udagawa said.
The band’s discography currently consists of six original songs: “Silver Glasses,” “Serene,” “Uza,” “Mirror,” “Dino” and “Ruminate.”
The creativity poured into each piece is clear. While each tells a different story, they all share Speaking of Her’s style: grungy, loud and filled with emotion.
“Mirror” immediately follows “Uza,” with a seamless instrumental transition.
The transition was brought in by Carrillo and features a loud break where each member shines on their instrument. Their respective sound blares out the
earning nods and smiles of agreement among the rest of the band.
The band’s collective favorite, “Dino,”
combines all of their favorite repetitive elements from the collection: noisy and “almost angry sounding,” as Garcia said.
“‘[Dino]’ just feels like we’re just jamming together,” Carrillo said.
When the band isn’t together, the members still come up with ideas for music on their own. Members often bring their ideas to the band group chat so that songs begin to come together little by little even before the band meets.
The band then meets up for group rehearsals to combine ideas and synthesize sounds.
“When we meet, it’s like a test,” Carrillo said. “It’s always different and there’s always a lot of changes.”
The process usually begins with Garcia bringing in an idea for the structure of a new song. From there, the band has a few chords to work with.
The group then works to create the bass part for Campos, as well as work out the vocal melody.
Lozano and Carrillo’s guitar and drum elements are typically the last components for the songs, as the two’s work tends to come from improvising during rehearsal.
Creating songs as a band as opposed to a solo artist comes with its own challenges, Minei said.
“It’s like having kids,” Minei said. “You raise it, add your input, but at some point when it grows up, it has its own personality. Songs are like that – bands really have to work together.”
Solo songwriters have the luxury of taking full creative control over songs. However, Minei pointed out that in a
band, working with everyone’s ideas and finding new ways to bring them together can be difficult.
“It’s gruesome,” Garcia said while laughing. “It’s like we’re all just trying to fit different puzzle pieces, but sometimes the puzzle pieces change.
Still, a love for music and a commitment to the band are what make Speaking of Her grow.
“If it wasn’t for how passionate we all are about music, we definitely could not be doing it because of how difficult it tends to be,” Lozano said.
The music industry is a hard one to break into. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, employment growth for musicians in the next 10 years is only projected at 2%.
Still, a persistent passion for music is essential to what it takes to succeed in the industry, experts say.
“On top of talent, it’s a lot of perseverance and a lot of grit,” William Jae, an LA-based freelance composer said. “Having dedication, a love of the art and that inherent trait of curiosity and momentum to keep pushing yourself
forward no matter what is essential to break into the industry.”
Jae has composed pieces ranging from punk rock and heavy metal to orchestral for projects with the USC, Los Angeles Philharmonic, etc.
Jae said that on top of dedication, like any industry, an artists’ image and how they market themselves is another key component of succeeding in music.
“They really have to know where they stand musically, or they’ll be easily swayed by the masses and what the public thinks,” he said. “Having a strong identity of what you want musically is definitely the first step to show the world who you want to present yourself as.”
Speaking of Her gets most of its inspiration from ’90s shoegaze bands such as My Bloody Valentine. Additionally, each member’s musical background comes together to create the band’s style, from emotional rock to rap and hip-hop.
“In high school, I listened to a lot of My Chemical Romance,” Campos said. “I think my vocals and my ideas tend to be a little more emotional because of that.”
On the other hand, artists like rapper Kenny Mason inspire Lozano’s style and energy he brings to the band.
Since meeting, the band’s diverse music tastes have melted into a shared pool of inspirations including artists like indie-rock band Panchiko and Japaneserock artist Ringo Sheena.
Forming Speaking of Her allowed the members to not only pursue their passions, but create lifelong friendships with one another.
“You’ll find someone like I found [Garcia]: he understood and sat down and played with me,” Carrillo said.
In the case of Speaking of Her, simply loving music paved the way for their creative journey as a band.
“Just play your stuff,” Carrillo said as a piece of advice for students wanting to explore making music. “Be really passionate with your expression. Just do what you like.”
Follow Speaking of Her’s journey on their Instagram (@_speakingofher) and Spotify.
Through the campus Wi-Fi, El Camino College tracks the websites most often visited by students, staff and faculty. This might sound like an invasion of privacy. But, nothing is as private as it seems –especially when using a public domain paid for with the public’s tax dollars. Warrior Life contacted acting Chief Technology Officer Carter Williams from Information Technology Services to find what sites the ECC community are searching for on campus. Additional data is not available from ITS at this time.
1. Microsoft (Outlook email, OneDrive, Word, Excel and PowerPoint)
2. Apple & iCloud (iCloud storage, Find My iPhone, Mail and Calendar)
3. Google (Gmail, Google Drive, Docs, Sheets, Slides, Calendar, Meet, Photos and Play Store)
4. Canvas (El Camino’s online system for teaching and learning) 5. MyECC (El Camino’s portal to access digital campus services)
How guidance and self-discovery helped uncover a music style and passion making composer
Story by Rosemarie Turay
When Patrick Morehead was sick as a child, his grandfather, Dennis Morehead, showed up at his bedroom door with chicken noodle soup. No warning, just love.
"Bopa”, a nickname his grandfather had chosen to be called, was a twist on “grandpa” that just stuck.
The unscheduled visits and shared moments of love with warm meals echo in memory.
At a black Kawai grand piano in El Camino College’s Music Building, Morehead, with slightly short brown hair tucked behind his ears. In a forest green coat, he focuses on the pages in front of him as he begins to play his selfcomposed quartet, “For Bopa."
Morehead, 22, is an applied music major at El Camino with a focus on composition. Over four semesters, six of his original works have been performed live solo and by fellow music majors in the college's Haag Recital Hall at the end of the semester.
These performances were made with the help of the Center for the Arts at ECC and Jonathan Minei, an assistant professor of music and advisor for ECC’s Music Club, who initially helped Morehead get his foot in the door.
Since then, Morehead has taken the lead on organizing concerts himself, often receiving help from Josias CanulMarchand, 22, a fellow applied music major and the club’s historian.Morehead is treasurer for the club.
At home in Torrance, Morehead composes behind a closed door using his Arturia Keylab 88 keyboard. Construction noise from down the street flows into the open window, but at night, the world around him slows down enough for him to think.
This is where his writing process begins; where he thinks about the character of the music – the emotional identity he wishes to convey to the audience with awaiting ears.
Growing up in Redondo Beach, his cousin Bailey Morehead introduced Patrick to the raw energy of punk band Black Flag. At the time, Patrick was still figuring out his taste. With the help of his cousin, he was pushed to listen closely and build his own opinions.
“From that advice, I started seeking out music myself,” Morehead said. “That’s how I came about the music I like today. I kind of just discovered it on my own.”
Eventually, the two cousins started a
Rite of Spring” at 15 years old.
In his bedroom in Redondo Beach at the time, listening through his headphones, he heard the dissonant chords and jarring rhythms of the piece for the first time.
After hearing the title mentioned in musician interviews and conversations, he decided to listen to the work himself.
As the tambourines shimmered and the flutes and clarinets echoed, he realized he had found a rhythm of his own and opened a chapter to the world of composition.
“Just feeling the melodies, it pierced my soul,” Morehead said. “It felt like music was tailored for me.”
“I think about the character of the beast, I want the beginning to feel quiet and peaceful. I want the middle to be more harsh and the end conclusive.”
- Patrick Morehead
band together called "Mrs. Nezbit".
This was an instrumental hardcore punk band with Bailey on the drums and Patrick on electric guitar.
Which Morehead taught himself to play by listening to and studying songs he liked and learning from other musicians around him.
Although, band lasted about a year due to Morehead's cousin moving to Los Angeles, which made it difficult for the two to rehearse together.
This was Morehead’s first experience of rehearsing and playing with someone alongside him, it left a lasting impression throughout his journey.
In high school, Morehead attended Fusion Academy in Hermosa Beach, a private school where he graduated early, after just three years.
“It helped me discover that it wasn’t really my dream to have a career in professional guitar,” Morehead said.
Morehead’s shift in focus became clear when he heard Igor Stravinsky’s “The
Believing it would help him become a better composer, he began to teach himself piano at the age of 18.
He dove straight into it by challenging himself to learn the opening page of “The Rite of Spring” on his own, wanting to understand how music is constructed from the point of view of both the composer and the performer.
“As a composer, you can see how it’s created, but as a performer, you can actually feel it,” Morehead said.
He began his music journey at ECC in 2023, enrolling in the applied music program with a focus on composition.
Though he had been composing music on his own, it was at ECC where he found both structure and support to help build confidence in his piano skills with guidance from professors like William Doyle, who teaches music history and expanded his exposure to different types of music.
ECC opened possibilities he hadn’t considered before – like transferring to a university, pursuing a bachelor’s degree in music with a focus on compositions and gaining a clearer sense of his compositional style.
He is influenced by German composers Helmut Lachenmann and Karlheinz Stockhausen,French composer Gerard Pesson and American guitarist Frank Zappa and the surreal storytelling of author Franz Kafka.
Later, his discovery of these influences led him to the work of Canadian composer Samuel Andreyev.
Andreyev, who is based in France, has been mentoring Morehead through a once-a-week scheduled lesson through Zoom for the past three years.
“He was very shy at first and had difficulty articulating what he was after,” Andreyev said. “But it was obvious that he had lots of ideas; he was sincere and passionate about his music and very gifted,” he added.
Over those three years, their lessons have grown into deep conversations about musical structure, artistic purpose, musical advice and overall guidance in Morehead’s journey.
“My main impression of his music is that it’s very colorful, rhythmically interesting and has some sort of touchy elements that make it engaging for an audience,” Andreyev said.
Morehead, started “Skizms”, an experimental project building electronic pop and often dabbling in black metal, where they often do collaborations with other musicians.
The band released an album, a single and an EP in 2020– they continue to rehearse and play today, hoping to record and or perform at local venues.
Morehead does not currently have a job. His main focus is on his musical studies and compositions from his home in Torrance where he lives with his
“People who are drawn into any sort of artistic field want to create something and as a composer, you not only want to perform music–you want to be able to create it.”
-Veronika Krausas
Growing up, none of Morehead’s immediate family were experienced in music, but music was still present.
Morehead is the second youngest out of five brothers. During the pandemic, he and one of his brothers, Gavin
parents and his younger brother.
He will premiere a new original piece, which was composed as a dedication of thanks to his cousin Bailey, at the Haag Recital Hall, Monday, June 16, at 7 p.m.
“I describe my music as expressive and rhythmically coloristically focused,”
Morehead said. “I think that rhythm comes back from my influence of Stravinsky and Zappa.”
With ECC professors and Andreyev guiding him, Morehead continues to be pushed to think beyond how music works, asking himself why it works –and what it means to him personally, always referring back to the lesson he learned from his cousin.
“It feels like a deep exploration into who you are as a person…this is what I like and that’s usually a shock,” Morehead said. As he continues to grow both as a composer and as a student, his goals and ambition do as well.
He hopes to become a successful composer, creating music on his terms and releasing albums of his original compositions and works.
“It’s a compulsion to create,” Veronika Krausas, a professor of practice at USC Thornton School of Music said. Then, pausing, she begins to quote Andy Warhol: “Don’t think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it’s good or bad, whether they love or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art.”
His road ahead isn’t entirely mapped out, but for Morehead, uncertainty is just another part of the process.
Just as he learned to explore an unpredictable rhythm within his music, he is also learning to trust the unfolding of his future with intention and precision, just like his music.
One composition at a time.
Story and photos by Elise
Fauni
Ablind box is a sealed box that contains a mystery variant of a certain collection.
Buyers don’t know which variant they’ll see once the box is open, inevitably leaving consumers wanting to test their luck with more.
However, these cute figurines don’t have to just collect dust on your bedroom shelves.
Here are five of the best blind boxes you can use for giving your school supplies a touch of your personality.
Smiskis ($11.25) are a green, glowing creature always pictured with a straight face.
With a $5 carrying case from Amazon, Smiskis can be used as keychains on bags and backpacks. Smiski figures glow in the dark, and charge in UV light. Attached to your bag, these figures can charge in the sun while you’re on campus, leaving you with a glowing Smiski as you return home from a long day.
Labubu ($21.99) is a blind box collection with each box containing a variant of a creature with soft fur and a vinyl face. Known for its cute – and arguably, a little terrifying – face, Labubus have taken the world by storm. With consumers lining up outside Pop Mart stores, fighting over boxes and reselling the charms for triple the price, Labubus are undoubtedly one of the hottest blind boxes on the market.
The appeal of these furry monsters comes in its ability to act as a bag charm. Attach a Labubu to your backpack and bring your new furry friend to school with you.
5. Hirono
Mofusand is a collection of cat characters, often dressed up in costumes, from foods to different animals.
Mofusand Hippers ($12.75) can also be used to decorate your school devices, especially cat-lovers. These go great on laptops, as their inward facial design peeks over the screen to watch you as you lock in on your essays.
Originally known for their standard standing figures, Sonny Angels have won over the hearts of the blind box community with their simple, yet easily collectible designs.
What makes the Sonny Angel HIPPERS ($12.75) special is its different design; their flat bellies with adhesive gel lets them cling to their collectors phones, tablets, laptops, etc. Perfect for students, Sonny Angel HIPPERS can be used as an adorable, 3D touch to the devices brought to school for note-taking during lectures and doing homework in the Schauerman Library.
Hirono ($15.99) – another Pop Mart blind box – is a collection of figures curating designs of a boy character in an emotional style. Hirono’s simple color palette and unique designs ensure a favorite.
Using a carrying case, Hironos can be used to decorate your backpack, adding a stylistic statement to your bag. The simple color palette of Hironos can easily match the design of any backpack.
Where to find blind boxes:
Del Amo Fashion Center
Kouhigh Toys, 528 Design Studio, Top Canvas, Tokyo Japanese Lifestyle Pop Mart
Locations in Costa Mesa, Century City, Culver City, Glendale
Story by Kaitlyn Gochez
Iwoke up to news I never thought I would receive - my father’s death.
Lucky never left my side through one of the toughest seasons I lived. I grieved a parent and his presence reassured me that I was not alone.
Lucky sat beside me as I mourned the loss of my father.
My poodle curled up next to me in the childhood bedroom I shared with my sister as we processed what we were going through. He sensed our pain and lived it with us.
2020 is a year I’ll never forget.
Losing a parent was a nightmare.
I experienced loss in my family for the first time. Something I feared growing up. I did not know I would face this so suddenly and early on in my life.
Lucky is a 10-pound toy poodle. A small, brave, loving dog. He has golden, cream-colored curly fur and light brown eyes.
He was a few months old when we first met. I was 10 years old. At first, I was afraid of him because of his small, loud barks. He was also my first pet. Later, my sister and I discovered his personality.
He loves the outdoors and is full of energy. I soon learned that he is cuddly and likes being warm.
In the mornings, he is my alarm, as he hops and runs around my home and towards the door, signaling the beginning of the day.
Lucky is brave and will bark at anyone who he thinks will be harmful to the people he cares most about. He will do his best every day to protect his home and family.
Behind his bold personality is a loving poodle who is loyal to his family.
He is an intelligent poodle. He understands human beings.
Lucky will greet people and make them feel welcome once he gets to know them. He senses when something is off with someone he is close and when
someone is sick. Lucky will sit by your side and lean on you. He makes himself available to you.
According to the National Library of Medicine, pets support their owners with mental health conditions, through encouraging social contact and distraction from the owner’s problems, pets are considered a main source of support.
Human beings can rely on their pets for a support system.
Lucky has experienced and lived through many seasons alongside me, despite our short lives.
I had Lucky to support me throughout the loss and moments of grieving. I could rely on him for a hug when I needed it. He sat next to me and watched me as I completed school online during the COVID-19 pandemic. He stayed awake with me many nights when I could not fall asleep.
Lucky has always been a comfort to me.
He was with me as I faced this process and was always there for me. The grieving process is one that never ends.
The National Library of Medicine
states, “Key themes included positive impacts on owner wellbeing and happiness through providing purpose, companionship and self-acceptance, pleasure and distraction, as well as lessening emotional pain and suffering and reducing risk behaviors.”
There is a correlation between happiness and well-being through the relationship one has with their pet.
Lucky has experienced many joyful and sad moments with me. I have watched how the loss has also affected him. For a long time, he would search the home, cars, and hope for my parents’ return home.
I know he cannot heal me and fill the void. Every day I look at him and remember everything we have endured together and how much we have grown. We’ve come a long way and our relationship remains.
Lucky is a reminder to be strong every day and take good care of those you love and value.