The life of a showgirl wouldn’t be complete without a few lawsuits, and who knows that better than Taylor Swift and Elizabeth Taylor?
On Monday, the “Bad Blood” singer was hit with a trademark infringement lawsuit regarding her most recent album, “The Life of a Showgirl.” Real-life Las Vegas showgirl and writer Maren Wade, born Maren Flagg, alleges that Swift knowingly disregarded her claim to a similar name.
According to the lawsuit, Wade launched the column “Confessions of a Showgirl” in the Las Vegas Weekly in 2014. The column eventually became a live show, which became a touring production. “Over the course of a decade, Confessions of a Showgirl grew into a brand encompassing performances, writing, and digital media — built by one person, city by city and show by show,” reads the lawsuit, which adds that Wade took the show across the country, and used the brand when appearing on television and podcasts.
Wade as a performer herself respects Swift’s right to creative expression, according to the suit, “and nothing in this action challenges it.” The filing argues that “whatever [legal] protection might attach to creative expression, it does not immunize Swift’s separate decision to adopt a confusingly similar designation as a trademark, affix it to goods, and deploy it as a source identifier in commerce.”
In 2015, the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office registered “Confessions of a Showgirl” and named Maren Flagg as the owner. And according to the suit, in November 2025, the office refused an attempt by Swift’s team to register “The Life of a Showgirl” based on a likelihood of confusion with Wade’s established brand.
Patent attorney JD Harriman told The Times in a statement that although the trademark office did reject Swift’s mark, she voluntarily suspended the “Life of a Showgirl” application while a separate trademark application for “Showgirl” moved forward.
“This case isn’t about the music, and it may not even be about confusion,” Harriman said. “Wade’s own complaint concedes she’s not challenging the album itself — only merchandise. And before filing, she was publicly hashtagging Swift’s album and calling herself a fan.”
Jaymie Parkkinen, an attorney for Wade, told The Times in an emailed statement that Maren spent more than a decade building Confessions of a Showgirl.
“She registered it. She earned it. When Taylor Swift’s team applied to register The Life of a Showgirl, the Trademark Office refused, finding Swift’s mark confusingly similar,” Parkkinen said. “We have great respect for Swift’s talent and success, but trademark law exists to ensure that creators at all levels can protect what they’ve built. That’s what this case is about.”
Wade’s team argues that since Swift’s 12th album dropped last year, search results are dominated by Swift, and even though Wade established her own showgirl brand a decade ago, her brand is now seen as affiliated with Swift’s.
“The Life of a Showgirl is one designation among more than 170 active or pending trademark registrations managed by Defendant TAS on behalf of Swift, spanning names, phrases, and commercial designations across one of the most extensive trademark portfolios in the entertainment industry,” reads the suit.
Swift’s broader enterprise “does not depend on the continued use of any single designation,” the suit continues. “By contrast, Confessions of a Showgirl is the sole trademark under which [Wade] has built her professional identity for more than a decade. It is not one mark among hundreds. It is the only one she has. The continued erosion of that mark threatens the entirety of Wade’s brand.”
In other Swift news, the Grammy winner dropped the music video for “Elizabeth Taylor” on Tuesday.
The video, which has been exclusively released via Spotify Premium and Apple Music, includes scenes from “Father of the Bride,” “Rhapsody,” “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” “Cleopatra,” and “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” among other classic films starring Taylor. The homage also has old press footage of the Oscar winner.
Back in October, Swift told BBC radio that if she mentions a real person in her songs, she warns them ahead of time, and in the case of someone like the late movie star, she asked the Taylor estate for permission to pay homage with the song.
“If it’s Elizabeth Taylor,” she said, “we go to their family and her estate and let them know, and they were lovely about it.”
We’re headed to the 25th edition of the festival, which returns to the Empire Polo Club in Indio on April 10-12 and April 17-19 with Sabrina Carpenter, Justin Bieber,Karol G at the top of the bill.
Our crew heading to the desert has literally decades of experience covering the festival, giving us unique insight into one of the world’s most famous music festivals.
So tell us — what do you want to know about Coachella? And what do you want to see from our live coverage in the field?
Are you heading to Indio or celebrating Couch-ella (and its more affordable beverage options) at home? Do you have tried-and-true tips you tell anyone when Coachella comes up in conversation? We want to know about them.
ONE of the UK’s most popular seaside towns is undergoing a £750,000 revamp to its historic promenade.
Brighton has long been a popular destination for holidaymakers but its famous Victorian promenade has been partially closed to the public since 2012 following safety concerns.
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Brighton’s famous Victorian promenade has been partially closed to the public since 2012 following safety concernsCredit: AlamyBut it is currently having £750,000 spent on it and will reopen later this yearCredit: purcelluk.The structure was originally built to create a sheltered promenade for Victorian touristsCredit: purcelluk.
Now, the promenade is expected to reopen this winter after an extensive restoration project.
Known as the Madeira Terrace, the historic promenade structure stretches 865metres-long with 151 large arches and was built between 1890 and 1897.
Parts of the cast iron railing decorations depict Poseidon – the Greek god of the sea – and Aphrodite – the goddess of love – as well.
The structure is also Grade II listed and thought to be the longest continuous cast-iron structure in the UK.
The first phase of the project includes restoring 28 of the arches between the Royal Crescent steps and Concorde 2, as well as installing a new lift.
The new lift will create step-free access to and from Madeira Drive.
Work on the lift has already begun with the next stage involving 20,000 bricks being placed around a frame that has been built.
Parts of the cast iron structure of Madeira Terrace have already been returned to the promenade after being sent to a specialist foundry for repairs.
The structure was originally built to create a sheltered promenade for Victorian tourists and was designed by Philip Lockwood – the same man behind the Bandstand, also known as the Birdcage, on Brighton seafront.
As wealthy visitors arrived by train, the terrace would allow them to promenade along the beach no matter the weather.
Over the decades it has become a key part of Brighton’s image as well as appearing in a number of productions such as films Wimbledon (2004) and TV series Dr Who.
Councillor Julie Cattell said: “We’re moving forward with very visible and eye-catching elements of the restoration, and I know residents and visitors are enjoying seeing the structure take shape.
“There has been huge interest in the work being done to create the lift and residents will continue to see real progress being made over the coming months.
“It is great that so many people are really captivated and engaged in this project – and have such goodwill towards the work being done.
As wealthy visitors arrived by train, the terrace would allow them to promenade along the beach no matter the weatherCredit: purcelluk.Parts of the cast iron railing decorations depict Poseidon – the Greek god of the sea – and Aphrodite – the goddess of love – as wellCredit: Alamy
“We know Madeira Terrace is a vital part of our city’s architectural heritage and is something people really care about.
“That is partly why we are taking a firm, heritage-led approach.
“Restoring the existing structure does take more time than simply replacing it – particularly with the testing required – but it is the correct approach.
“We’re determined to get this restoration right – and see Madeira Terrace once again become a thriving and important part of our iconic seafront.”
The renovations to the terrace are also part of a wider multi-million-pound project that will develop the area around the Brighton Centre – a conference and exhibition space where previously The Who, Queen and Bob Marley have performed.
The project includes opening a new lift that will create step-free accessCredit: Getty
Dubbed the Waterfront Project, work will expand Churchill Square shopping centre as well as establish a new conference centre and entertainment venue.
In 2024, plans were also submitted to widen the beach in Brighton’s neighbour – Hove.
The plans were later approved for the coastal defense works, which includes widening and adding new pebbles and groynes to the beach.
One of the most painstaking architectural renewals in recent Los Angeles memory has finally pulled a world-class jewel of modern architecture from obscurity.
Designed by pioneering Modernist architect Richard Neutra in 1928, with limited collaboration from another Modernist icon, Rudolph Schindler, the Jardinette Apartments had been hiding in plain sight on an unassuming Hollywood street for nearly a century. The complex was a technical and spatial breakthrough, and quickly gained international renown as one of the earliest International Style structures in the United States, not to mention Neutra’s first L.A. commission.
But the building’s original owner, Joseph H. Miller, went bankrupt during construction and skipped town to avoid his creditors, and the Jardinette slipped from view. “After that early burst, it just disappeared,” said Barbara Lamprecht, historical consultant for the Jardinette’s rehabilitation, which is just now wrapping up.
For decades the building stood quietly along West Marathon Street: an austere, four-story complex that most people passed without a second glance. Wedged between Western Avenue and Manhattan Place, amid stucco apartment blocks and scrappy bungalows, the edifice had, until recently, grown increasingly shabby as time and neglect took their unforgiving toll.
That changed with the intervention of a newcomer to historic preservation named Cameron Hassid. For years the tireless local developer and his tenacious team have willed the Herculean restoration project to the finish line. Hassid plans to bring the apartments to market before the end of the month.
Property owner Cameron Hassid, left, and Neema Ahadian, commercial real estate agent for Hassid, on the scenic rooftop of the Richard Neutra-designed Jardinette Apartments in Los Angeles. Neutra imagined the Jardinette Apartments as a prototype for future garden apartment buildings. Nearly 100 years later, the Jardinette is set to reopen after a lengthy redevelopment.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
A Radical Design
When the Jardinette first opened it was featured prominently in a seminal survey of early avant-garde apartment housing called “The Modern Flat,” while European architectural publications from Paris to Moscow showcased it as an exemplar of functionalist design, noted Nicholas Olsberg, an architectural historian and curator who has written extensively about Neutra. “It was seen worldwide as one of the signal examples of the new architecture,” Olsberg added.
The Northeast corner of the Jardinette Apartments, circa 1930. When the building first opened in 1928 it was a technical and spatial breakthrough—but it suffered from years of neglect after falling from view.
(Richard and Dion Papers, Collection 1179, UCLA Special Collections)
Built inside and out with reinforced concrete — a modern industrial material that had rarely been employed for housing— the sculpted, U-shaped building, whose jogging corners, projecting sills and swaths of dark and light paint gave it a powerful visual rhythm, used its structural heft to liberate its facade.
Long horizontal bands of easy-to-open steel casement windows, some complemented with concrete balconies, drew daylight and air deep into its 43 efficiently organized units — studios and one bedrooms, ranging from about 400 to 700 square feet — and opened them to wide views of the street and, on higher floors, the Hollywood Hills. Hallways and stairs were saturated with natural light thanks to skylights and strategically placed windows. At the forecourt a modest garden, then dominated by a huge cedar tree, softened the building’s mass, giving the project its name: Jardinette, the little garden.
A roof covered the original skylights in the Jardinette Apartments, but they are now fully exposed.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
“Arguably my father had more influence on apartment design than he did on house design,” said Neutra’s son Raymond, pointing to several Neutra designs offering indoor/outdoor lifestyles via “garden apartments.” Raymond, who was on site a few weeks ago, has toured the rehabilitation multiple times.
The Jardinette was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1986 and designated a Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monument two years later. Yet despite its formal protections, the building continued its long drift into disrepair.
In 2016 Jardinette’s previous owner, Robert Clippinger, began reviving it, hiring Lamprecht’s firm, Modern Resources, as well as June Street Architecture and land use consultants Cali Planners. The team filed a comprehensive Historic Structure Report that helped secure much-needed tax relief via the Mills Act, a state preservation program. But Clippinger soon faltered under the weight of the many developmental requirements to bring the historic building back. Lawsuits followed. Financing collapsed.
A carpeted hallway beneath an original skylight at the Richard Neutra-designed Jardinette Apartments in Los Angeles. The Jardinette was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1986 and designated a Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monument two years later.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
Hassid bought the building in December 2020, in the thick of the COVID-19 pandemic, keeping Clippinger’s core designers and consultants in place.
Decades of negligence and neglect had proved both a curse and a blessing. Many original steel windows had been swapped out for cheap vinyl replacements. Larger units had been subdivided. At one point the building had been repainted an unfortunate pastel peach and green. Electrical systems dated back nearly a century. Gas water heaters punched vents through the concrete walls.
Yet because the building never attracted a well-funded modernization campaign, much of its essential fabric remained intact.
“Had it been owned by people with more resources,” noted Lamprecht, “there might have been upgrades that blurred the sense of history.”
Corey Miller, a principal at June Street Architecture, described his first encounter with the almost empty property: “There had been 43 units with 43 different people who had been left to their own devices,” Miller said. “Every time we peeled back a layer, there was something worse.”
Unit 302, inhabited for four decades by a single tenant, retained the most original fabric, including an early icebox cabinet. But it also contained endless layers of grime and clutter. It was “disgusting,” Miller said bluntly, but invaluable as forensic evidence. Much of it — like tiles, windows and millwork — were reproduced around the building.
The 128 Jardinette Apartments were painstakingly restored with an eye toward preserving original details including kitchen cabinets, sinks and iceboxes.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
The perils of rehabilitating a historic treasure
When Hassid called Miller to ask about buying the building, Miller remembers his response clearly. “You probably have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he told him.
Hassid’s love of early modern architecture began as a child. His grandparents lived at 848 N. Kings Road in West Hollywood, with a balcony overlooking Schindler’s famed house. So Hassid was familiar with Jardinette’s geometric forms and clean lines. His mother reacted with angry skepticism when he first raised the idea of acquiring the building, but encouraged him to buy it after she learned about the connection.
Nostalgia did not make the rehabilitation any easier. Technical plans required approval, and fixes weren’t straightforward within a protected treasure. “You can’t just go into a historic building with a sledgehammer,” Hassid said. Every move had to align with federal preservation standards and the commitments embedded in the Mills Act contract. Lambert Giessinger, Los Angeles’ historic architect and Mills Act administrator, acted as liaison. Inspections were frequent. Conditions were exacting.
“It’s stressful to have people looking at everything,” Miller admitted. But he credits both Giessinger and Lamprecht with pragmatism. “They were under no illusion that this was going to be done 100% perfect,” he added.
“There’s a lot of wonky stuff in this building that will remain wonky forever,” noted Lamprecht, pointing to settling areas and imperfect details.
Michael Norberg, a land use consultant for the Jardinette Apartments preservation project, stands on the balcony of a unit at the Richard Neutra-designed complex, which will soon reopen after prolonged development issues.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
The astonishingly complex rehabilitation revealed a simple-looking building that was anything but. The board-formed concrete carried a subtle wood-grain texture, which had to be left intact, even as seismic reinforcements were added beneath the surface. The finish on white stucco shifted from smooth to pebbled on the walls’ higher reaches, and this had to be carefully re-created.
Original trim had to be salvaged and repaired wherever possible. Kitchens were rebuilt based on archival drawings and surviving fragments. Bathrooms, originally designed around tubs, required discrete tile extensions to accommodate modern showers. The paint scheme, which has been returned to a warm, off-white concrete field with blackish-green bands emphasizing the window walls, had to be reconstructed from historic photographs. Wine red concrete lobby floors were revealed under ungainly tile. Large stairwell skylights were uncovered, while unique, cube-shaped stair post lights were rehabilitated.
Plenty of white tiles replicate the original look in this bathroom in the historic Richard Neutra-designed Jardinette Apartments. One floor of the newly preserved 1928 complex features original doors and kitchen cabinets.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
Support infrastructure, threaded through the thick concrete frame, was perhaps the messiest challenge. Fire sprinklers, mandated by code, had to remain visible because they could not run through joists without compromising historic fabric. New electrical, plumbing and ventilation had to snake around (or burrow through) beams that original plans didn’t note.
Hassid chose to add air conditioning, and the resulting electrical loads required a 13-foot-deep vault beneath the courtyard. That addition will limit what can be planted in the central garden.
The view from the large windows in a newly restored unit of the Richard Neutra-designed Jardinette Apartments. Original skylights were also preserved during a remarkably complex historic preservation effort.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
The team preserved as many original steel casement windows as possible on the primary north-facing facade. These are interspersed with custom reproductions throughout.
The rehabilitation costs climbed past $5 million — accounting for structural analysis, waterproofing, electrical overhaul, plumbing, mechanical, windows, flooring, sprinklers, cabinetry, landscaping — an ever expanding list.
“If I knew then what I know now,” Hassid said with a weary laugh, “I’m not sure I would have done it.” He paused. “But listen, I’m happy I did.”
Today, the building’s value is clear. The courtyard, with vegetation still waiting to grow, is again a communal garden framed by cantilevered balconies. The flat facades have regained their subtle play of depth and shadow. New systems hum quietly, concealed as carefully as possible.
But the building’s renewal has not made it immune to its surroundings. Portions of the exterior were tagged during construction, and some windows have even been shot out by BB guns. As it reemerges, Jardinette could become a lightning rod for those who fear gentrification.
Modernist architect Richard Neutra imagined his first Los Angeles project, the Jardinette Apartments, as a prototype for future garden apartment buildings, but the building fell into disrepair and obscurity for decades. A newly completed historic preservation project will allow it to reopen soon.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
Hassid, who initially planned to keep the building, is now testing the waters for a sale with the help of local broker Neema Ahadian of Marcus & Millichap. He said he’s already gotten calls from potential buyers in both the affordable and market-rate sectors. Affordable housing, he added, would be fitting because the smaller units were originally used that way — often for people working in nearby Hollywood studios. The building’s lack of parking could be another factor pushing the sale in that direction.
“I want to leave my options open,” said Hassid. “It’s bittersweet, because we put so much into it.”
Despite swearing off the project more than once, he is hooked by the process.
“I’m looking for my next historic building. After doing it, I know the mistakes I made and how to minimize the lag,” he said.
“This is such a good niche. Others run away from it. I love it because I love the challenge.”
The framed photo of César Chávez and Dolores Huerta sits in my personal office on a bookshelf crammed with volumes about California and the American West.
The two are at a 1973 United Farm Workers convention, presiding over the union they co-founded. After years of victories in the name of campesinos, the group and its charismatic leaders seem ready for what’s next.
A UFW banner emblazoned with the group’s famous black Aztec eagle logo hangs in the center of the picture, making Chávez and Huerta look like equals.
But they’re not.
He’s speaking from a podium, looking down and appearing cast in darkness due to Chávez blue vest melding into his black hair and brown skin. She’s by his side clasping her hands, wearing a colorful blouse that pales in radiance to Huerta’s hopeful face as she looks at the crowd before them.
It’s the only picture of historical figures that I display at home, and it’s in a place where I’m guaranteed to look at it. It has long served as my secular version of a prayer card, a daily reminder to fight for the good in the world and a reminder that giants before me faced challenges far more daunting than mine. It was also a testament to teamwork — when I acquired the photo a few years ago, it called to me in a way a solo Chávez never would have because I always knew el movimento was more than just one man.
Their portrait can never mean just those things ever again after the New York Times reported last week Chávez sexually assaulted two teenage girls in the 1970s and Huerta in the 1960s.
Places left and right — colleges, cities, classrooms, even states that mark Chávez’s birthday as a holiday — are now deleting his name and image from the public sphere. It’s not going to be a quick, easy task even if the cancellation is starting to take place with startling speed: Chávez’s presence is as ubiquitous in Mexican American life as the Virgin of Guadalupe.
Just this weekend, a friend acknowledged that he and his wife had just started reading a book about him to their 5-year-old daughter, a book they now plan to trash.
I thought of doing the same to my photo of Chávez and Huerta. But I’ve decided not to.
I don’t fault folks for wanting to scrub any hint of Chávez from their daily lives and neither does the Cesar Chavez Foundation, the nonprofit headed by his descendants that recently announced in a statement, “We support and respect whatever decision[s]” may come in the weeks and months to come. Communities are entitled to decide whom they should and shouldn’t publicly honor.
But to eradicate Chávez’s civic presence so fast — to tear down his statues, relabel streets and parks named in his honor, paint over his image on old and new murals, to throw away artwork that has adorned homes and offices for decades — doesn’t remove the fact that millions largely saw him as a champion of the downtrodden until last week. It can’t rescind the positive influence Chávez had on generations of Latinos and non-Latinos who saw in him the hopes of a people and now must reconcile their memories with his horrible deeds.
Historians, educators, activists and politicians for far too long elevated Chávez above Huerta in the name of a simplistic narrative that should’ve never been constructed. The public at large bought into those efforts with little skepticism in the understandable desire to have Latinos star in the American story. It’s a culpability we should all interrogate, not immediately purge.
That’s why not only am I keeping up my photo of Chávez and Huerta, I’m going to put it in a more prominent place from where I can’t look away.
Workers for the city of San Fernando cover the statue at Cesar E. Chavez Memorial Park on Thursday.
(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)
It will serve as a memory of a tragic, tremendous moment in the history of Latinos in the United States, where we should be focusing our attention on a presidential administration that wants most of us gone but instead must deal with the fallout from the downfall of one of our own. It will challenge me anew to look past the big names of the past and highlight those whose stories aren’t nearly as known by the mainstream.
Seeing Huerta next to her abuser will forever remind me about how the now-95-year-old sacrificed her own mental health and safety in the name of something bigger than the two of them — a choice no one should ever have to make but one that she nevertheless did.
The photo will stand as the manifestation of the old newspaper adage that if your mom tells you she loves you, go check it out. No one should ever be above skepticism no matter how sanctified and righteous they may seem — that’s why the New York Times investigation crashed into the Chicano collective sense of self like a meteor. No one could’ve imagined that Chávez could’ve possibly done things so monstrous, but maybe we shouldn’t have built him up so much while he was alive and after his death in the first place.
My framed Chávez-Huerta memento will make me think of how the stories of sexual abuse survivors are still not heard enough or even believed. Even now, some Chávez defenders are casting doubt on the claims of Huerta and the three other women named in the New York Times story, questioning their motivations to come forward after decades of silence and decrying how their decision to do so has permanently tarnished the reputation of one the few nationally known Chicano heroes. In Huerta’s case, critics just don’t buy how someone who carried Chávez’s torch decades after his death could all of a sudden supposedly turn on him.
But as a Catholic who has long covered the Catholic Church sex abuse scandal, I know that every sexual assault survivor has their own journey of recovery. I also know that we must always seek the truth instead of living a lie.
And turning Chávez into a historical footnote is a lie. He long served as a moral exemplar; he should now serve as a cautionary tale known to all.
Erasing historic figures from the public sphere is an exercise in power going back to the pharaohs, a way rulers ensured future generations couldn’t learn about their enemies. The push to nix Chávez comes from the trend in recent years by progressive activists to remove monuments that hail problematic figures under the pretense that someone’s sins trump any good they might have done no matter how influential they were.
Again, all communities have that right to reexamine the past. But we can’t and shouldn’t disappear the full story of Chávez, as painful as it is. It’s the easy way out — and remedying wrongs is never easy.
If the photo in my book shelf was only of Chávez, I’d still keep it up. The good he did was really good — the bad he committed was as terrible as it gets.
A new UN report confirms the past decade was the hottest on record, warning that rising temperatures driven by fossil fuels demand urgent climate action.
The photos currently flooding my social media stream are like a highlight reel of the life of Chicana civil rights icon Dolores Huerta.
The famous 1960s-era black-and-white shot of her looking like a bohemian in sweatshirt and black paints while she holds up a sign proclaiming “HUELGA” in the grape fields of California’s Central Valley.
Chanting at the front of picket lines, strands of gray in her hair, in the 1980s.
Beaming as President Obama awarded her the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2012 for a lifetime of good work that expanded beyond the United Farm Workers union she co-founded.
What’s especially popular is admirers posting pictures of themselves with her — at protests, during art gallery openings, in classrooms, even dancing. It’s the type of public outpouring one usually sees when a celebrity dies. Sadly, there is grief involved in people sharing their encounters with her right now.
Someone didn’t die. But something did.
Earlier this week, Huerta’s disclosed to the New York Times that fellow Chicano civil rights icon Cesar Chavez raped her during the 1960s. It was part of a story that also interviewed two women who claimed the United Farm Workers co-founder sexually abused them when they were young teens in the 1970s.
One of the posts I saw soon after the story’s publication was an Instagram portrait Maricela Cueva took when the two met a few years ago during a conference in Burbank.
“Standing with Dolores Huerta,” said Cueva, president of the public relations firm VPE Communications, “means honoring her legacy in the farmworker movement as well as the victims who had the courage to come forward and acknowledging the personal sacrifices behind it.”
Former West Covina Mayor Brian Calderón Tabatabei shared on the platform formally known as Twitter a photo of him shaking hands with Huerta in Berkeley at a Working Families Party gathering for elected leaders in 2024, where she joined breakout sessions and listened to the next generation of leaders.
“I look at the folks who posted pictures and we are all children of the movement,” said Tabatabei, who’s also an El Monte High ethnic studies teacher. He kicks off each school year with a shout-out to Huerta. “She lived with that pain so we could be in these spaces. So we don’t have to be quiet.”
Together, the photos stand as a communal family album. It’s a show of love and solidarity to Huerta — but also a challenge to ourselves. Many of us immediately believed the longtime activist not just because of her stature, but because we’re sadly too familiar with the script playing out in real time.
A Latina abused by a trusted, powerful man. A terrible secret kept to not make him look bad and ruin his life. A need for the victim to consistently praise the abuser to others no matter what. A life of service in the form of sacrifice. Eternal grace masking an unimaginable pain.
Her story is the story of too many women I know and you know — and maybe the story of you.
Steely resolve in the face of suffering is not new in the Huerta story. For decades, reporters, activists, historians and others who formed the narrative of Chicano civil rights treated her as a modern-day Mary Magdalene — a woman who found purpose by following a man. Chavez was positioned as the Christlike figure who toiled for all of us at great personal cost and thus anointed the face of the farmworkers movement. Meanwhile, he and others relegated Huerta to sidekick status, both in the trenches and in the public — and the image makers followed his lead.
She found more prominence after his death in 1993, but Chavez’s shadow loomed over her for too long. Huerta became one of Chavez’s fiercest defenders even after revelations about his autocratic ways became public — but what else was she supposed to do when people tied so much of her identity to him?
Through it all, Huerta showed up not just for la causa but for those of others. People in Bakersfield, where Huerta lives, know she’s a supporter of arts and live music — she was seen dancing with family members at a Mardis Gras party just last month, gladly taking photos with well-wishers. I have run into her at my wife’s restaurant in Santa Ana, at movie theaters in Los Angeles, during online fundraisers for museums. My favorite memory is the time we both spoke to students at a high school summer conference. Afterward, the organizers told me her speaking fee was a pittance compared to that of a famous Latina author who demanded $25,000 for an hour-long chat.
That’s why Huerta’s recent revelations hit particularly hard — unlike the long-sainted Chavez, she always seemed more like one of us. Huerta has cycled through the stages of life in the public eye in a way that has seen Latinos relate to her over the decades as our daughter, our sister, our aunt. Our mother, grandmother and now great-grandmother in the winter of her years.
We all know women in one of those roles who suffered the same violations Huerta did. The same dismissals and insults. Who never spoke about their ignominies because they were afraid we wouldn’t be there for them.
Huerta was once one of them.
“I believed that exposing the truth,” Huerta wrote in a short essay, “would hurt the farmworker movement I have spent my entire life fighting for.”
By coming forward now, she’s speaking up for every woman who has kept their abuse private, every woman overlooked in favor of a man, every relative told to keep secrets lest they embarrass the family, every woman attacked for finally speaking up. By posting all those photos of Huerta — by herself, in a crowd, with others — people are publicly and unconsciously saying:
We can do better for the girls and women in our lives. We must do better.
“I have kept this secret long enough,” she concluded in her essay. “My silence ends here.”
May we all hear the Dolores Huertas in our lives. May we finally stand by them.
As word evidently reached activists in the last few weeks that disturbing allegations of sexual abuse against Chicano civil rights icon Cesar Chavez were forthcoming, things started to happen without much explanation.
Groups began to cancel long-planned parades, dinners, lectures and fundraisers scheduled for Chavez’s birthday on March 31. People who I’ve known for years suddenly weren’t returning calls or texts about what was going on. Longtime defenders of Chavez — who stood by their hero even as revelations in this paper and in biographies over the past generation showed there was a dark side to the man — suddenly became hard to reach.
When the United Farm Workers and the Cesar Chavez Foundation put out statements Tuesday morning that “troubling allegations” against their patriarch were considered credible enough for them to offer help to his victims, the silence transformed into dread. There was a discomfort similar to waiting for a tsunami — that whatever was coming would change lives, shake institutions and make people question values and principles that they had long held dear.
And like a natural disaster, what emerged about Chavez was far worse than anyone could’ve expected.
Wednesday morning, the New York Times published a story where two women whose families marched alongside Chavez in the fields of California during the 1960s and 1970s disclosed that he sexually abused them for years when they were girls. Just as shocking was the revelation by Dolores Huerta, Chavez’s longtime compatriot and a civil rights legend, that he had once raped her at a time when their leadership in the fight to bring dignity to grape pickers earned national acclaim and amounted to a modern-day Via Dolorosa.
The silence has transformed into screams. Politicians and organizations that long commemorated Chavez and urged others to follow his ways are releasing statements by the minute. My social media feed is now a torrent of friends and strangers expressing empathy for Chavez’s victims and outrage, disgust and — above all — disappointment that someone considered a secular saint by many for decades turned out to be a human more terrible than anyone could’ve imagined.
There will be questions and soul-searching about these horrifying disclosures in the weeks, months and years to come. We will see a push for the renaming of the dozens of schools, parks and streets that bear Chavez’s name across the country and even the rebranding of Cesar Chavez Day, a California state holiday since 2000 devoted to urging people to give back to their communities and the least among us.
The reckoning is only right. Much of the Latino civil rights, political and educational ecosystem will have to grapple with why they held up Chavez as a paragon of virtue for too long above others just as deserving and, as it turns out, nowhere near as compromised.
In any event, the myth has been punctured.
A portrait of Cesar Chavez on a mural on Farmacia Ramirez, 2403 Cesar E Chavez Ave. in East Los Angeles.
(James Carbone / Los Angeles Times)
Chavez’s biography always reads like an entry in the “Lives of the Saints” genre of books that Catholics used to read about the holy men of their faith. The son of farmworkers who became a Mexican American Moses trying to lead his people to the promised land of equity and political power. An internationally famous leader who lived a mendicant’s life. Who devoted decades to some of the most exploited people in the American economy. Honored with awards, plays, posters. Murals, movies and monuments. President Biden even kept a bust of Chavez at his Oval Office desk.
It was a beatific reputation that largely persisted even as the union he helped to create lost its influence in the fields of California and a new generation of activists looked down on Chavez for his long-standing opposition to immigrants who came to this country to work without legal status. Admirers kept him on a pedestal even as former UFW members alleged over the last two decades that the boss they once idolized purged too many good people in the name of absolute control. The hagiography continued even as a new generation of Latinos came of age not knowing anything about him other than an occasional school lesson or television segment.
I was one of those neophytes. I first heard his name at Anaheim High School in the mid-1990s and thought my teacher was talking about Julio Cesar Chavez, the famous Mexican boxer. I was thrilled to discover that someone had bravely fought for the rights of campesinos like my mom and her sisters, who toiled in the garlic fields of Gilroy and strawberry patches of Orange County as teenage girls in the 1960s, the same time that Chavez and the UFW were enjoying their historic wins.
“Who’s Cesar Chavez?” my Mami responded when I asked if his efforts ever made her work easier.
My admiration for Chavez continued even as I learned about some of his faults. I was able to separate Chavez the man from the movement for which he was a figurehead. Long-maligned communities seek heroes to emulate, to draw hope from, to hang on their walls and share their quotes on social media. We create them even as we ignore that they’re flesh and blood just like us.
Chavez seemed like the right man at the right moment as Mexican Americans rose up like never before to battle discrimination and segregation. Now, Latinos and others who admired Chavez have to grapple with his moral failings of the worst possible magnitude at the worst possible time: when there’s an administration doing everything possible to crush Latinos and we’re looking for people to look up to like never before.
He remains one of the few Latino civil rights leaders known nationwide — and Chavez is nowhere near as known as acolytes make him out to be. Some people will argue that it’s unfair he will likely get wiped away from the public sphere while other predatory men from the past and present largely maintain their riches and reputations.
But that’s looking at the abuse revelations the wrong way. For now, I will follow what those most directly affected by Chavez’s actions are telling us to do.
The UFW and Cesar Chavez Foundation were wise to not try to defend the indefensible in their statements and instead consider any victims first before deciding how to decide what’s next for them.
The Chavez family put out a news release that states “we honor the voices of those who feel unheard and who report sexual abuse.”
Huerta wrote in an online essay: “Cesar’s actions do not reflect the values of our community and our movement. The farmworker movement has always been bigger and far more important than any one individual.”
Another of his victims told the New York Times of Chavez’s legacy: “It makes you rethink in history all those heroes. The movement — that’s the hero.”
The fountain in the Memorial Garden surrounds the gravesite of Cesar Chavez and his wife Helen Chavez at Cesar E. Chavez National Monument in Keene, Calif.
(Francine Orr)
The face of that movimiento brought inspiration to millions and improved the lives of hundreds of thousands. That’s why we shouldn’t cancel the good that Chavez fought for alongside so many; we should direct the adulation he once attracted and the anger he’ll now rightfully receive toward the work that still needs to be done.
To quote an old UFW slogan that Chavez transformed into a mantra, la lucha sigue — the fight continues. It’s a statement that’s more pertinent than ever, damn its imperfect messenger.
WASHINGTON — The Trump administration is stepping up its ambitious effort to replace about $1.6 trillion in lost tariff revenue that was eliminated by the Supreme Court’s decision to strike down a range of the president’s import taxes.
Recovering that lost revenue, which the White House was counting on to help offset the steep, multitrillion-dollar cost of its tax cuts, is possible but will be challenging, experts say. The administration has to use different legal provisions to impose new import taxes, and those provisions require longer, complex processes that U.S. companies can use to seek exemptions. It could be months or more before it is clear how much revenue the replacement tariffs will yield.
“I wouldn’t bet against this administration being able to get back on paper the same effective tariff rate they had before,” said Elena Patel, co-director of the Urban-Brookings Tax Policy Center. But the new approach will “make it easier for people to contest the tariffs, which is going to put a big asterisk on the revenue until all that is settled.”
On Wednesday, U.S. Trade Representative Jamieson Greer said the administration will investigate 16 economies — including the European Union — over whether their governments are subsidizing excessive factory capacity in a way that disadvantages U.S. manufacturing. The investigation will also cover China, South Korea and Japan, Greer said.
In addition, he said, there would be a second investigation of dozens of countries to see whether their failure to ban goods made by forced labor amounts to an unfair trade practice that harms the United States. That investigation will also cover the EU and China, as well as Mexico, Canada, Australia and Brazil.
Both investigations are being conducted under Section 301 of the 1974 Trade Act, which requires the administration to consult with the targeted countries, as well as hold public hearings and allow affected U.S. industries to comment. A hearing as part of the factory capacity investigation will be held May 5, while a hearing on the forced labor investigation will occur April 28.
It’s a far cry from the emergency law that President Trump relied on in his first year in office, which allowed him to immediately impose tariffs on any country, at nearly any level, simply by issuing an executive order.
Moments after the Supreme Court’s ruling, Trump imposed a 10% tariff on all imports under a separate legal authority, but that duty can only last for 150 days. The president has said he would raise it to 15%, the maximum allowed, but has yet to do so. Some two dozen states have already challenged the new taxes. The administration is aiming to complete its Section 301 investigations before the 10% duties expire.
The effort underscores the importance that the Trump White House has placed on tariffs as a revenue-raiser at a time when the federal government is facing huge annual budget deficits for decades into the future. Previous administrations, by contrast, used tariffs more sparingly to narrowly protect specific industries.
Erica York, vice president of federal tax policy at the Tax Foundation, noted that the first investigation covers roughly 70% of imports, while the second would cover nearly all of them.
“That breadth suggests the goal isn’t to address the issues at hand, but instead to re-create a sweeping tariff tool,” she said.
Trump portrays tariffs as a way to force foreign countries to essentially help pay the cost of U.S. government services, even though all recent economic studies find that American companies and consumers are paying the duties, including analyses by the Federal Reserve Bank of New York and economists at Harvard University. In his State of the Union address last month, Trump even touted his tariffs as a potential replacement for the income tax, which would return the United States’ tax regime to the late 19th century.
Trump also wants tariffs to help pay for the tax cuts he extended in key legislation last year. The tax cut legislation is expected, according to the most recent estimates by the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office, to add $4.7 trillion to the national debt over a decade, while all Trump’s import taxes, including ones not struck down by the court, were projected to offset about $3 trillion — or two-thirds of that cost.
The high court’s ruling Feb. 20 that he could no longer impose emergency tariffs eliminated about $1.6 trillion in expected revenue over the next decade, according to the CBO.
Some of Trump’s import taxes remain place, including previous tariffs on China and Canada that were imposed after earlier 301 investigations. The administration has also imposed tariffs on some specific products, including steel, lumber and cars. Those, combined with the 10% tariff for part of this year, should yield about $668 billion over the next decade, the Tax Foundation estimates.
“It’s going to take a really big patchwork of these other investigations to make up for the [lost] tariffs,” York said.
The administration’s efforts are also unusual because they reflect an overreliance on tariffs to bring in more government revenue. Trump has also said the import taxes are intended to return manufacturing to the United States — manufacturing jobs, however, are down since he returned to office — and he has used the tariffs to leverage trade deals.
“What makes this really different,” said Kent Smetters, executive director of the Penn Wharton Budget Model, “it is really the first time tariffs have been mainly used as a revenue raiser.”
Patel, meanwhile, argues that raising revenue can be done more reliably and straightforwardly by Congress. Laws like Section 301 are traditionally intended to be used to address specific trade policy concerns in particular countries.
“It’s not supposed to be there to raise revenue,” she said. “If we want to raise revenue through tariffs, then Congress should impose a broad based tariff.”
If you’re looking for the most elegant way to wrap up our “little excursion” in Iran, it’s this: President Trump should follow what might politely be called the “declare victory and head for the airport” strategy.
You know the drill: Announce that we’ve set back Iran’s nuclear programs a decade, pounded their navy into submission, and turned the ayatollah into a fine mist. Mission accomplished! Thank you for flying the friendly skies, and please return your seat backs to their full upright and locked position.
Don’t get me wrong. This “cut and run” routine is less than ideal. Trump will have signaled to the world he (we) can’t endure any insurgent resistance, empowered the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps to run the country and likely angered Israel in the process.
But his domestic political base will believe he won, and fan service has always been his top political priority.
Besides, once you’ve entered a war without a coherent justification, clearly defined goals or a credible exit strategy, you’re lucky to get out at all. A salutary outcome no longer exists; that ship has already sailed.
Speaking of which, as I write this, we are drifting toward what feels like a point of no return. Mining the Strait of Hormuz, which Iran is now attempting to do, is the ultimate trump card.
Using mines to shut down this narrow shipping lane — which contributes about 20% of the world’s oil supply, not to mention natural gas and fertilizer — could result in a crippled global economy, mass casualties and a situation in which the president can no longer save face while cutting and running.
As retired U.S. Navy Adm. James Stavridis writes, “Iran has been planning a Strait of Hormuz closure operation for decades and probably has more than 5,000 mines; just one hit can severely damage a thin-skinned tanker.”
Yes, once laid, minefields can be cleared. But Stavridis predicts it would take “weeks, if not a month or two” to clear thousands of mines. He warns: “The global economy needs to be prepared for a month or two shutdown.” (Complicating matters is the fact that our dedicated minesweepers were recently decommissioned.)
The Iranians are not idiots. They watch American politics. They understand that Trump’s pressure point isn’t Tehran — it’s the S&P 500. A bad week on Wall Street makes him jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
Trump, whatever else you say about him, is a transactional materialist who approaches geopolitics the way a real estate developer approaches zoning disputes: What’s the angle, where’s the leverage, and can everybody just settle already?
Unfortunately, the fellows running Iran are religious zealots who believe — deeply, sincerely and somewhat alarmingly — in something larger than quarterly economic indicators. Their strategic plan appears to consist of two options: survive (which they see as tantamount to victory), or die gloriously while insisting they meant to do that all along.
Which makes their current behavior grimly logical.
The Iranian regime, such as it is, doesn’t have much to lose. But they know exactly what Trump has to lose: His popularity and political legacy are now tied to the price of oil.
Releasing U.S. strategic oil reserves will help to some extent, but this is not a long-term solution. And Iran is betting that when the price at the pump for U.S. consumers starts looking like a luxury car payment, Trump will do what critics like to summarize as TACO — “Trump Always Chickens Out.”
Lots of American political observers agree. And it’s not just moderates or RINOs who are teasing this.
Referring to the U.S. military, former Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich told Larry Kudlow on Fox Business: “They have to keep the Strait of Hormuz open. I don’t care what it costs.”
“If they can’t keep it open,” Gingrich continued, “this war will, in fact, be an American defeat before very long, because the entire world, including the American people, will react to the price of oil if the strait stays closed very long.”
Perhaps the U.S. military can pull off a delicate trick: keep our “armada” in the region, keep the Strait of Hormuz open, clear any mines that are laid and prevent some unlucky tanker from being hit by a mine — or, for that matter, by a drone or missile fired from the Iranian coast. That final risk is why some military analysts believe reopening the strait would require a ground operation.
Imagine that the U.S. manages to thread these needles. Then what?
Total and complete surrender? Regime change? Boots on the ground?
Absent a swift exit (like, tomorrow), we’re left with the two classic options of power politics: a delayed and more ignominious retreat or increased escalation.
And, historically speaking, American presidents are more likely to double down — with tragic results.
