Los Angeles City meetings resemble a struggling television series, one that needs to be canceled midseason—not due to poor ratings, but because of an overwhelming sense of corruption and stagnation.
Each episode unfolds in a predictable manner: ceremonial scrolls are presented, accompanied by polite applause, public comments are met with indifference, followed by a swift transition into closed sessions where transparency goes to die.
In these closed meetings, the public is left outside, peeking in through a dense veil of redacted documents, word bans, and curious proclamations.
What remains is a semblance of governance stripped of its democratic essence—essentially, a scroll-delivery service masquerading as a municipal entity.
In light of this, it could be argued that City Council meetings might as well be held on Nextdoor, where the level of chaos seems comparable, yet the accountability is slightly more apparent.
Meanwhile, the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors held their Tuesday meeting at Ken Hahn Hall, starting off in customary fashion with an invocation and land acknowledgment, topped off with a feel-good scroll for Zorro, a 16-week-old pit bull.
However, the atmosphere quickly shifted into disarray as a union protest erupted.
The SEIU members, there to voice their demands, weren’t interested in the ceremonial niceties; they sought genuine answers and real dialogue from the Supervisors.
Despite attempts by Supervisor Horvath to calm the crowd with a simple, “I’m sorry,” Chair Barger stepped in, attempting to mimic a substitute teacher.
“This is our second warning,” she cautioned. “If this continues, we will have to clear the room.”
But the protests continued.
Chair Barger gestured, and a recess was declared.
The camera feed was shut off, replaced by a mundane message stating that the meeting had recessed.
When issues become urgent and the public is present, stopping the live stream offers a concerning glimpse into the true nature of transparency—or lack thereof.
In that moment, it becomes clear that this isn’t merely a case of noise; it’s about confronting reality and genuine civic engagement.
As an observer from afar, I wanted to voice my perspective.
“Smart Speaker: Eric Preven, Studio City. I’m not SEIU, I’m WGA, but I do believe in showing up.
When I noticed the stream cut off, I understood precisely what was unfolding.
The room didn’t escalate in noise; it became too authentic.”
The foundational understanding here is that democracy doesn’t thrive in secrecy; it falters when governance is hidden behind closed doors.
Also notable is the structure of these meetings, particularly the all-too-common lengthy closed sessions.
If public interest items like 87A exist, why conceal them behind hours of legal jargon?
It seems backward to bury the critical public issues after a marathon of opaque legal discussions.
The public has expressed a desire to engage—waiting three hours to discuss relevant issues simply does not make sense.
This trend of secrecy is compounded by the County Board’s approval of a $715,000 grant to the AAPI Equity Alliance—noble in intention, yet vague in its deliverables.
What is the output? Will it be translations, advocacy, outreach, or mere visibility?
The public is left questioning the specifics while officials remain uncommunicative.
Simultaneously, the County has waived approximately 16,000 parking fees worth around $60,000 for various events.
How these privileges are allocated remains shrouded in mystery; it’s a hidden cost that taxpayers unwittingly bear.
Such circumstantial perks feel more like an honorary scroll for favored individuals rather than a transparent governance practice.
If we genuinely seek accountability, we must see a published list detailing who benefits from these parking waivers—allowing Angelenos to assess the situation themselves.
Yet, this isn’t just about parking fees; the County is also buzzing with excitement about the upcoming Olympics, specifically the proposed fan zones.
These Live Sites, though promoted as community-oriented, seem more like glossy marketing ventures lacking tangible benefits for residents.
Questions arise: what would notable civic leaders—like Danny Bakewell—envision?
Perhaps branded Taste of Soul booths, maximizing the “fan experience,” and ensuring every vendor reports to Visa.
The underlying sentiment remains—we’re not being celebrated; we’re not merely participants in a grand event; we’re being leased out for an ad campaign.
Moreover, the recent acquisition of three patrol boats for an unexpected price of $660,000 raises further eyebrows.
The full budget was disclosed as $1.26 million, igniting curiosity about the missing $600,000.
What accounts for this discrepancy?
Is it for custom decals, fuel, or even a thousand-dollar ice chest?
Questions about the boats’ outfitting lead us back to the issue of transparency—once again, it seems to be at risk of sinking.
In terms of governance dysfunction, one cannot overlook the antics occurring at City Hall, where Jonathan Groat—a somewhat notorious figure—continues to steal the show.
He issues rules with a fervor reminiscent of a hall monitor, seemingly relishing his role as the unelected enforcer of order.
Although he lacks the authority of an elected official, Groat’s presence dominates the proceedings, often misinterpreting the nuances of the Brown Act while wielding his microphone.
He issues proclamations and provides advisories in Spanish, yet his authority is questionable at best.
Groat represents a disturbing trend, acting as a gatekeeper without the necessary credentials or respect for the position he’s undertaken.
Instead of enhancing public discourse, he appears to create barriers, indulging in self-aggrandizement rather than serving the community.
As for those involved in reforming the governance structure, we see several players making headlines.
Rob Quan, known as a svengali and reformer, has received noteworthy attention from the Council President.
Following the passage of Measure G in November 2024, the Los Angeles County Measure G Governance Reform Task Force was established to propose vital reforms in county governance.
This task force consists of 13 members sourced from various sectors: five appointed by County Supervisors, three from labor organizations, and the remaining five chosen from at-large candidates selected by the initial eight appointees.
Various Supervisors nominated individuals known for their commitment to accountability and equity.
One such appointee is Brian Calderón Tabatabai, the former mayor of West Covina, who has an esteemed background in public policy and education, appointed by Supervisor Solis.
Similarly, Supervisor Mitchell appointed Derek Steele, who heads the Social Justice Learning Institute, infusing a systems-thinking approach into community development.
Sara Sadhwani, a professor at Pomona College with significant expertise in politics and redistricting, is among those nominated by Supervisor Horvath.
Marcel Rodarte, representing the California Contract Cities Association, was appointed by Supervisor Hahn, while Supervisor Barger chose former Duarte Mayor Jon Fasana, a veteran of Metro’s board.
On the labor side, David Green, President of SEIU 721, brings years of experience in public service, having worked at LA County’s Department of Children and Family Services.
Derek Hsieh, representing the Coalition of County Unions and Executive Director of ALADS, encompasses a background that straddles law enforcement and labor relations.
Steve Neal, the appointed representative from the LA County Federation of Labor, is a community leader known for both his faith-based initiatives and civic engagement.
The at-large appointments are intriguing as well.
Gabriela Gironas, a key player in the entertainment industry, focuses on empowering gender minorities, while Julia Mockeridge and Rosa Soto are positioned to advocate for AAPI and unincorporated communities, although detailed bios have yet to be publicly shared.
David Phelps—former Director of External Relations for the Association of Independent Commercial Producers—adds his extensive experience in public affairs to the mix.
Nancy Yap’s appointment as Executive Director of CAUSE showcases a commitment to effective AAPI civic engagement and leadership.
The City Charter Reform Commission, established in August 2024, also consists of 13 members.
Mayor Karen Bass appointed four individuals while oversight and extractive tendencies in both commissions raise questions about transparency and equitable representation.
Crucially, both commissions aim to reshape governance in Los Angeles but differ notably in their compositions and philosophies.
The County Task Force embraces a more labor-centric approach, reflecting the roots of Measure G.
Conversely, the City Charter Commission represents a blend of political, legal, and special interest-driven appointments, casting shadows on accountability and public trust.
Clear communication regarding who selects these members and why is essential in fostering public confidence in governance processes.
Despite some profiles being available for most appointees, several remain undisclosed, steering conversations back to issues of trust and transparency in political discourse.
In conclusion, unless there is an overhaul in how public meetings function and a embrace of genuine transparency, the dismal portrayal of Los Angeles governance will persist, and civic engagement may turn into a mere echo of an uninspiring narrative.
image source from：https://www.citywatchla.com/eric-preven-s-notebook/30983-the-usual-re-formers
