From raspados outside the Student Union to elote carts, Latino vendors fuel the culture and economy at San José State and its surrounding communities.
As SJSU students rush between classes, the aroma of warm corn and the appetizing sight of fried snacks from nearby street vendors offer both food and a comforting reminder of home.
Maria Martinez has been a street vendor for more than a decade on the corner of East Virginia and South 10th Street, just a short walking distance from SJSU’s campus.
She has sold a variety of Mexican snacks such as elotes – grilled corn covered with mayonnaise, cotija cheese and chili powder – Tostilocos, churros, raspados, drinks and more.
“People love what I sell, churros, elotes, cucumber, mango, shave ice, Tostilocos, Doritos – a little bit of everything – sodas and aguas frescas,” Martinez said in Spanish.
Martinez started vending at the age of nine in Mexico until she decided to move to the United States in search of a better opportunity. She said selling Mexican goodies became her main source of income, and she finds joy in providing for the community.
In 2018, California passed SB 946, also known as the Safe Sidewalk Vending Act, which decriminalized sidewalk vending and
limited local restrictions, according to the California Legislative Information website.
The law aimed to protect low-income entrepreneurs from criminal penalties for operating without permits.
Fernando Angeles has been a vendor for over a year. He also sells elotes, raspados and fried snacks and said selling them is also his main source of income, as work is scarce.
“It’s hard to find work. That’s why we focus on this, everything is a struggle, but there is positivity in the work we do,” Angeles said in Spanish.
Street vendors face challenges with the constraints of traditional
jobs, such as rigid hours, lengthy commutes and waiting for a paycheck at the end of the month. Their desire for fair treatment, a more stable job and income is closely tied to the financial struggles they experience as immigrants, according to a Nov. 18, 2024 World In Progress article.
Angeles said that though he has experience in construction work, the job market is scarce and there is little to no opportunity not only for him but for many people who have to look for a second source of income.
As of March 2025, Santa Clara County’s unemployment rate raised to 4.0% up from 3.2% in March 2023, highlights
a labor market struggling to keep up with workforce growth, creating added challenges for immigrants facing language and credential barriers, according to the Federal Reserve of St. Louis.
Despite these challenges, immigrants play a vital role in San José’s economy. They make up 45% of the working-age population and 47% of all employed individuals in Santa Clara County, according to the New American Economic Research Fund.
Daniella Torres, an SJSU biology student, said she actively supports street vendors whenever she gets the chance.
“ I usually catch them
around, like, after my afternoon class, which is around 3 (p.m.), so it’s always nice when I get off the light rail and get a little quick snack,” Torres said. “And my go-to snacks are elote and raspados or papas with chili and lime, specifically Valentina. I try to support my street vendors as much as possible.”
Immigrant street vendors often work grueling hours. Many prepare food late into the night after finishing a full-time job, sometimes staying up until 3 or 4 a.m. to serve fresh meals the next day, according to a May 26, 2023, Inland Coalition for Immigrant Justice article.
Their efforts are often
driven by a desire to support themselves and their families and contribute to the community and are viewed as valuable members of the economy, according to the same article.
Martinez said she hopes that she continues to thrive in her work and wishes the same for other vendors. She looks forward to continuing her work and receiving more opportunities.
“I hope that one day in the future I will have my own home, to build my business so I can live out my old age and to live with my children,” Martinez said.
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Breakdancers claim library turf
By Israel Archie SENIOR STAFF WRITER
While the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Library primarily serves as a space for students to study, the ground outside is also the stage for a community of breakdancers.
The group is not necessarily an organized club or directly linked to San José State. They are simply a group of people from the area that come together and breakdance every Tuesday night.
One of these breakdancers is Lando Zanotelli, a San José resident.
Not only does Zanotelli dance himself, but he also teaches kids in the East Bay about breakdancing.
“I started teaching to show my moves and what comes with it (and) the culture too,” Zanotelli said. “It's not just about moves, (but) it's about the history of hip hop (and) I try to teach my students all avenues.”
Breakdancing originated in New York City around the late 1960s and early ’70s. It became a key element of hip-hop culture during the 1980s and ’90s and was popularized by the African American and Latino communities, according to a webpage from History.com.
Breaking became popular in the streets of San Francisco after the release of the 1983 film Flashdance, according to a July 24, 2024, article from NBC Bay Area. In the 1990s, dancers would come and practice in different spots around the Bay Area, according to the
same source.
Joseph Felix, a 28-year-old San José resident, has been breakdancing since he was 12 years old.
“This (breakdancing) was a saving grace for me,” Felix said. “An after-school program for at-risk youth reached out to me, and that's how I found breaking.”
Felix goes by the stage name Scar, according to an Instagram post from I AM EXCLUSV, a photography studio based in Oakland.
The nickname was given to Felix by a teacher during his time at an after-school program called Hip Hop 360. “(In) my first session with
him he saw my energy and (that) I had a scratch on my face and he called me Scarface and it’s stuck and never left me,” Felix said. “I kinda didn’t like it at first but now it’s a Scar or Scarface.”
Hip Hop 360 brings creative arts into California middle and high schools to help students express themselves, according to a webpage from Unity Care, an educational services program. Because of the intense body movement involved in breakdancing, the activity carries a high risk of musculoskeletal injuries, according to a study from the International Journal of Sports Physical Therapy.
To prevent that from occurring, Felix takes preemptive measures to condition his body along with a balanced diet.
“I do a lot of running and calisthenics – a lot of calisthenics. It helps keep me in shape,” Felix said. “I would also say a lot of greens on your plate. You want your plate more green than it is anything else.”
Kevin Vu Huynh, a trainer of Felix who goes by the stage name Deja Vu, conditions primarily mentally rather than physically.
“As I’m getting older, I do morning meditation (and) breathing exercises,” Huynh said. “It’s important to have peace with yourself because
when your mind is clear, your dance is clear.”
Huynh is in a breakdancing group known as the HeadHunters Crew, a separate crew from the one at the library, which was founded in 1999, according to their Instagram page.
One of his crew members was the reason why he got interested in breakdancing.
“It’s not a dramatic story,” Huynh said. “I went to a high school dance my freshman year and saw him in the corner dancing. I was inspired and I knew that’s what I had to do.”
While breakdancing instructor Zanotelli also engages in physical training like Felix, he also shares the
same sentiment as Huynh and takes a more mental approach when conditioning for breakdancing.
“Keep your state of mind good,” Zanotelli said. “Some days you have good days and you have bad days, so just go with the flow (and) don't force it.” Like Zanotelli, Felix also teaches kids how to breakdance and serves as a mentor to them.
“It’s kind of surreal,” Felix said. “It was always my dream when I was younger to teach, mentor and then also be a student of the game.” The Bay Area’s hip-hop dance style served as a stepping stone for the interweaving of popping, a jerky dance sequence, with the groundwork of breakdancing, according to a September 14, 2022, article from Red Bull. Felix hopes that the breakdancing community in the Bay Area continues to utilize the space at the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Library for years to come.
“This means the world (because) this is the only spot we have where able to give the kids a free space, let alone ourselves,” Felix said. “It’s pretty much a blessing and I always tell people, ‘Hey, man, you have to use this space up, because one day this is not going to be here anymore, ’ so I never take it for granted.”
ELIZABETH BRAVO REBOLLOSO | SPARTAN DAILY
Fernando Angeles stands behind his cart selling various Mexican snacks such as elote outside the Diaz Compean Student Union and Clark Hall.
How I learned to love the Arch
Nicole DeVries STAFF WRITER
At San José State, the “César Chávez Arch” is more often avoided than admired because of a superstition that warns students that if they walk underneath it, they won’t graduate.
The “César Chávez Arch,” formally titled The Arch of Dignity, Equality, and Justice, was created in 2008 by artist and activist Judy Baca, according to an SJSU webpage
SJSU commissioned the piece to honor labor leaders and civil rights advocates of the United Farm Workers (UFW), co-founded by César Chávez, according to the same source.
The arch features mosaic tiles and murals that connect Spanish and Indigenous traditions, inspired by legacies from UFW co-founder, Dolores Huerta and Indian independence leader, Mahatma Gandhi.
Despite the arch’s significant historical and artistic value, it has become a point of anxiety for students who fear walking under it.
The superstition surrounding the arch adds unnecessary stress to students already grappling
with the pressures of college and discourages them from engaging with
“step on a crack, break your mother’s back,” which adds an element of caution
Avoiding the arch may feel like a form of protection, but it also means missing out on a chance to connect with the past of San José’s history of advocacy.
its historical significance. Superstitions are a way for our minds to cope with uncertainty and regain a sense of control and comfort, particularly when we feel helpless or anxious, according to Care Counseling’s “The Psychology of Superstitions” webpage. A well-known superstition is the saying,
to something as simple as walking on the sidewalk.
In a similar way, the “César Chávez Arch” creates its own superstitious reactions.
When I first arrived at SJSU as a freshman, I admired the arch and its surroundings without any concern.
However, after learning about the superstition, I
started avoiding going near the arch.
Baca intended for students and visitors to become symbolically transformed from bystanders to activists as they walked through it, according to the SJSU webpage.
Still, on this campus, many students steer clear of the arch for fear that walking through it will somehow prevent graduation, which has become a lasting part of campus culture.
It’s disappointing to have walked past a piece meant to celebrate activism and unity and treat it more like a threat than an invitation.
The desire to graduate and the small effort it took to avoid the arch became a routine, and three years later, I had grown accustomed to taking the detour.
But, as graduation
approached, I started to question why I had let a superstition guide my behavior for so long, especially when it kept me from fully appreciating a space meant to honor resilience and justice.
The fear of walking under the arch may stem from a deep-rooted need for reassurance and stability during a time when the future feels uncertain.
Avoiding the arch may feel like a form of protection, but it also means missing out on a chance to connect with the past of San José’s history of advocacy.
Superstitions surrounding works of art are not unique to the SJSU campus; other universities have their own traditions.
Last year, while studying abroad in Paris, I encountered a similar superstition about
the statue
Students there rub the toe of his bronze shoe before taking exams for good luck, according to a World in Paris webpage. Our class followed the tradition, and to my surprise, I scored a perfect score on one of our final quizzes and passed the class.
It wasn’t because of Montaigne’s shiny shoe or even because I had walked under the arch, but because of the hard work I put in.
The experience I had in Paris, like my time at SJSU, highlighted how deeply students seek symbols of reassurance in their academic journeys, especially when those symbols are within their control.
While superstitions may offer comfort, it’s important to remember that success is built on dedication, not on avoiding a piece of art and activism. Especially during this administration, denying our experience of other cultures and stories only limits our understanding of others’ perspectives.
In the end, avoiding the arch or any symbol doesn’t impact our future, but it’s the choices we make and the actions we take that define us as people.
GRAPHIC BY NICOLE DEVRIES | SPARTAN DAILY
of French philosopher Michel de Montaigne near Sorbonne University.
