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West Hollywood poet laureate’s nature program turns high schoolers into authors

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The late afternoon sun was setting over Coldwater Canyon when the bus arrived. Students from Boyle Heights’ Bravo High spilled out into TreePeople, a nature reserve and nonprofit in Coldwater Canyon Park, and took off hiking.

As they looked around the sage and monkeyflower-lined path, their chatter quieted, and soon, they were writing poetry.

Alina Sadibekova, a junior at the magnet medical school, sat under native oak trees, breathing in the soil-rich air with a pen in hand.

“Our city is very busy, especially living in L.A. where everything just goes on and on and it feels like there’s never a point where we can take a breath,” Alina said. “Going to the parks helped me ground myself.”

Three kids sitting on steps writing into notebooks.

During a field trip to Gabrielino Springs and the L.A. River Gardens, Bravo High School students from Feng Shui Poetry in the Parks work on poems inspired by the landscape.

(Genesis Sierra)

TreePeople, is one of many green spaces she has visited with Feng Shui Poetry in the Parks, a program dreamed up by the West Hollywood poet laureate, Jen Cheng, in partnership with Bravo High English teacher Steve “Mr. V” Valenzuela. Cheng’s aim is for poetry, nature and Chinese principles to inspire a love for nature in students otherwise surrounded by concrete.

“I think as humans, we’re part of nature, so being better connected to nature actually brings you more home to yourself,” Cheng said. She explains that feng shui, the ancient Chinese practice of arranging a space to encourage harmony, is based on five natural elements: water, wood, fire, earth and metal.

“Feng shui, in poetry, is a lens that you can use to process big ideas using your surroundings,” Cheng said. “You can say, ‘Let’s write about water running down a river,’ not literally, but maybe as a metaphor for migration.”

Feng Shui Poetry in the Parks has grant funding through 2026’s spring semester, but next school year is still up in the air. Cheng says she’s looking for other grants, but as the Trump administration cuts humanities funding, including National Endowment for the Arts grants, the options are scarce.

As the oldest of five growing up in Oakland, Cheng felt seen for the first time when she discovered poetry in elementary school. It was inspired by her most cherished memories: field trips. At the time, her immigrant family worked to the point where they were often “too busy for nature.” During field trips, it was exciting, she said, to be out of Oakland’s urban landscape and in parks that felt rare in her working-class experience.

Decades after her elementary school field trips, as a newly appointed poet laureate for West Hollywood, she envisioned a way to mirror this childhood experience.

Poets laureate, whose role is to champion and encourage poetry in their community, are eligible for a $50,000 nationwide grant through the Academy of American Poets to support “meaningful, impactful and innovative projects,” according to the AAP.

As a recipient of this grant, Cheng brought Feng Shui Poetry in the Parks to life with one final addition — a teacher with a passion for poetry, who could connect her to a classroom of students.

Everyone she spoke to, she said, pointed her to the same person — “Mr. V.”

Two people at a podium inside a library.

Jen Cheng, left, and Steve Valenzuela, right, close the Feng Shui Poetry in the Parks reading with words of encouragement for the students who shared their poetry at Bravo High School on Dec. 4, 2025. Both instructors have said that they were surprised by the emotion and creativity the students demonstrated in their poems.

(Kayte Deioma)

A sanctuary for ‘lifesaving’ creativity

When you enter Valenzuela’s classroom, the walls are covered with dozens of CD sleeves, from Deftones to Rage Against the Machine. In the gaps, student artwork, notes and photos with current and former students hang.

Valenzuela leads Bravo High’s poetry club, KEEPERS, and for the last few years, he’s guided the students to win awards at international poetry slam Get Lit.

“Poetry is expression, poetry is life-changing, lifesaving, which sounds very dramatic, but it’s not. Some of the things the students have written about are very traumatic,” Valenzuela said. “I’ve seen them work through difficult experiences and come out of it using poetry.”

One such student is 17-year-old Paige Thibodeaux. “I used to think it was better to be closed off, but throughout this, I was able to show my friends and peers who I am,” Paige said. “I didn’t think that’s something I could do and I’m here now.”

Paige, who lives with her family in Compton, recalled having her guard up as she walked through her neighborhood, where she said expression through poetry felt inaccessible.

“I don’t see a lot of kids doing things like this,” she said.

Student poets, friends and family seated before the poetry event.

Student poets, friends and family members gather before the start of the Feng Shui Poetry in the Parks poetry reading and zine release at Bravo High School on Dec. 4, 2025.

(Kayte Deioma)

Working on a book, she said, opened up a whole new side of her. She started to confide in friends about stress, or things that bothered her, which otherwise would have stayed inside.

‘I still don’t believe it’

Since August 2025, Paige and her classmates have developed their poems, received feedback from Cheng and submitted their final pieces to be published as a poetry collection.

The cover, designed by Bravo student Adrian Lopez, depicts a tree wrapping around the spine. The poems are rooted in their observations of current affairs and native plants; the publication was completed in December, when Valenzuela and Cheng planned for a reading and celebration of their work at Bravo High.

“Did you guys know your work is going to be read across the country?” Cheng said to students in class one day. “I’m sending it all the way to New York!”

“Feng Shui Poetry in the Parks Vol. 1” is being printed as a zine and will be sent to bookstores and libraries from San Francisco to Chicago as well as the Library of Congress.

Students giggled and gasped in disbelief. “No pressure, I guess,” one student joked.

“It’s really crazy, I still don’t believe it. It’s been a dream of mine,” Alina said. “I never realized I could be a published author as a junior in high school.”

The night of the poetry reading, students, parents and friends gathered in excitement in Bravo High School’s library, settling in rows before a single microphone. Out in the hallway, the raucous chatter of teenagers echoed in the halls, and cars honked on the busy street outside to pick them up. But inside the haven of the library, there was a quiet settling among the crowd for the long-awaited show.

A girl at the microphone reading poetry.

Alina Sadibekova reads her poems “I Want to Fly” and “Messy” for the Feng Shui Poetry in the Parks reading at Bravo High School on Dec. 4, 2025. She says writing poetry over the course of the program “grounded” her and alleviated the stress of school.

(Kayte Deioma)

Aolani “Lani” Alarcon approached the mic to hushed voices. As the lights lowered, she thanked the crowd, the white flower tucked in her hair catching the light as she recited her first poem, “White Sage.”

She says poetry didn’t always come easily to her. “One of the biggest things I struggle with is judgment, so opening up or writing about touchy subjects or things that mean something to me was hard,” Lani said. “Knowing that I wouldn’t be judged, or that people would actually like what I write, means a lot.”

The 16-year-old smiled as she read, describing sage as an ancestor’s prayer. Her next poem, “Hummingbird,” delved into grief.

“You teach me that healing isn’t forgetting,” she read, tears welling. “It’s learning to carry love without breaking under it.”

Manuel Alarcon, her father, was seated in the crowd, clasping his hands in rapt attention. When the readings had finished, he pulled Lani into a long embrace.

“These field trips, it exposed them outside of city life,” Alarcon said. “There’s more than opening a book, listening to a teacher. You need that outside exposure to really understand life. And inner city kids don’t have that. I want [my daughter] to be part of breaking a cycle.”

Valenzuela clapped loudly and cheered as each student stepped off the podium.

“When young voices, and voices from marginalized communities tend to be silenced, sometimes we internalize that and silence ourselves,” Valenzuela said. “I want them to feel like they can speak up.”

As Feng Shui Poetry in the Parks carries on for another semester— maybe its last — students continue to explore writing poetry in the greens of L.A. parks. Some, like 17-year-old Saneli Soto, express themselves along the way.

Saneli’s poem reads:

I’m used to concrete floors
And concrete walls.
I’m used to five story buildings.
I needed a quiet place.
Where I could just lie in the grass.

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Inside a Minneapolis school where 50% of students are too afraid of ICE to show up

For weeks, administrators at this charter high school have arrived an hour before class, grabbed neon vests and walkie-talkies, and headed out into the cold to watch for ICE agents and escort students in.

Lately, fewer than half of the 800 sudents show up.

“Operation Metro Surge,” the immigration crackdown in Minnesota that led to nationwide protests after federal agents shot and killed two U.S. citizens, has had students, parents and teachers on edge regardless of their immigration status.

Signs of a fearful new normal are all over the school. Green craft paper covers the bottom of many first-floor windows so outsiders can’t peer in. A notice taped outside one door says unauthorized entry is prohibited: “This includes all federal law enforcement personnel and activities unless authorized by lawful written direction from appropriate school officials or a valid court order.”

Students in a classroom

Students at a Minneapolis high school classroom with many empty seats on Jan. 29, 2026.

Staff coordinate throughout the day with a neighborhood watch group to determine whether ICE agents are nearby. When they are, classroom doors are locked and hallways emptied until staff announce “all clear.”

Similar tactics have been utilized by schools in other cities hit by immigration raids across the country. The Los Angeles Unified School District established a donation fund for affected families and created security perimeters around schools last summer.

But it appears nowhere have students felt the repercussions of local raids more than in Minneapolis.

Many schools have seen attendance plummet by double-digit percentages. At least three other, smaller charter schools in Minneapolis have completely shut down in-person learning.

At this high school, which administrators asked The Times not to identify for fear of retaliation by the Trump administration, 84% of students are Latino and 12% are Black. Staff and students are being identified by first or middle names.

A balloon sits in a hallway at the high school.

A balloon sits in a hallway at the high school.

Doors and windows are covered

Doors and windows are covered at the school so outsiders can’t see in.

Three students have been detained — and later released — in recent weeks. Two others were followed into the school parking lot and questioned about their immigration status. Several have parents who were deported or who self-deported. Latino staff said they have also been stopped and questioned about their legal status.

“Our families feel hunted,” said Noelle, the school district’s executive director.

Students returned from winter break on Jan. 6, the same day 2,000 additional immigration agents were dispatched to Minneapolis to carry out what Immigration and Customs Enforcement Acting Director Todd Lyons called the agency’s “largest immigration operation ever.” The next day, an ICE officer fatally shot Renee Good, a 37-year-old mother of three.

“I describe that day as if you’re on an airplane and it’s really bad turbulence, and you have to keep your cool because, if you don’t, you lose the entire building,” said Emmanuel, an assistant principal. “It felt like we went through war.”

Attendance dropped by the hundreds as parents grew too afraid to let their children leave home. School leaders decided to offer online learning and scrambled to find enough laptops and mobile hotspots for the many students who didn’t have devices or internet. Some teachers sent packets of schoolwork to students by mail.

a teacher at a high school

A teacher at the Minneapolis high school that administrators asked The Times not to identify for fear of retaliation by the Trump administration. Teachers and students there also asked not to be identified.

Noelle said in-person attendance, which had dropped below 400 students, increased by around 100 in the third week of January. Then federal agents shot and killed 37-year-old intensive care nurse Alex Pretti, and attendance plummeted again.

Rochelle Van Dijk, vice president of Great MN Schools, a nonprofit supporting schools that serve a majority of students of color, said many schools have redirected tens of thousands of dollars away from other critical needs toward online learning, food distribution and safety planning. For students still attending in person, recess has frequently been canceled, and field trips and after-school activities paused.

Even if students return to school by mid-February, Van Dijk said, they will have missed 20% of their instructional days for the year.

“A senior who can’t meet with their college counselor right now just missed support needed for major January college application deadlines. Or a second-grader with a speech delay who is supposed to be in an active in-person intervention may lose a critical window of brain plasticity,” she said. “It is not dissimilar to what our nation’s children faced during COVID, but entirely avoidable.”

At the high school, administrators said they tried to create “a security bubble,” operating under protocols more typical of active shooter emergencies.

Students take part in gym class

Gym class at the Minneapolis school, where many students are so afraid of ICE that they won’t go to the campus.

If agents were to enter the building without a judicial warrant, the school would go into a full lockdown, turning off lights, staying silent and moving out of sight. That hasn’t happened, though ICE last year rescinded a policy that had barred arrests at so-called sensitive locations, including schools.

Tricia McLaughlin, assistant secretary for the Department of Homeland Security, said that blaming ICE for low school attendance is “creating a climate of fear and smearing law enforcement.”

“ICE does not target schools,” McLaughlin said. “If a dangerous or violent illegal criminal alien felon were to flee into a school, or a child sex offender is working as an employee, there may be a situation where an arrest is made to protect the safety of the student. But this has not happened.”

Alondra, a 16-year-old junior who was born in the U.S., was arrested after school Jan. 21 near a clinic where she had gone with a friend, also 16, to pick up medication for her grandmother.

She said that as she was about to turn into the parking lot, another car sped in front of her, forcing her to stop. Alondra saw four men in ski masks with guns get out. Scared, she put her car in reverse. Before she could move, she said, another vehicle pulled up and struck her car from behind.

Alondra shared videos with The Times that she recorded from the scene. She said agents cracked her passenger window in an attempt to get in.

“We’re with you!” a bystander can be heard telling her in the video as others blow emergency whistles.

She said she rolled her window down and an agent asked to see her ID. She gave him her license and U.S. passport.

“Is it necessary to have to talk to you or can I talk to an actual cop?” she asks in the video. “Can I talk to an actual cop from here?”

“We are law enforcement,” the agent replies. “What are they gonna do?”

In another video, an agent questions Alondra’s friend about the whereabouts of his parents. Another agent is heard saying Alondra had put her car in reverse.

“We’re underage,” she tells him. “We’re scared.”

a staff member holds a sign for a bus

A sign directs students to line up for their school bus route. Bus pickups are staggered, with one group of students escorted outside at a time. This way, the children can be taken back inside the school or onto the bus more easily if ICE arrives.

A Minneapolis Public Radio reporter at the scene said agents appeared to have rear-ended Alondra’s car. But Alondra said an agent claimed she had caused the accident.

“It’s just a simple accident, you know what I mean?” he says in the video. “We’re not gonna get on you for trying to hit us or something.”

“Can you let us go, please?” her friend, visibly shaken, asks the agent at his window.

Alondra and her friend were handcuffed and placed in a U.S. Customs and Border Protection vehicle as observers filmed the incident. At least two observers were arrested as agents deployed tear gas and pepper spray, according to an MPR report.

The agents took the students to the federal Whipple Building. Alondra said the agents separated the friends, looked through and photographed her belongings and had her change into blue canvas shoes before chaining her feet together and placing her in a holding cell alone.

“I asked at least five times if I could let my guardian know what was happening, because I was underage, but they never let me,” she said.

Finally, around 7 p.m., agents released Alondra — with no paperwork about the incident — and she called her aunt to pick her up. Her friend was released later.

Meanwhile, school administrators who saw the MPR video called Alondra’s family and her friend’s.

Alondra said officers didn’t know what had happened to her car and told her they would call her when she could pick it up. But no one has called, and school administrators who helped her make calls to Minneapolis impound lots haven’t been able to locate it either.

Though Alondra could attend classes online, she felt she had to return to campus.

“I feel like if I would have stayed home, it would have gone worse for me,” she said, her lip quivering. “I use school as a distraction.”

The backstage of the auditorium, dubbed the bodega, has been turned into a well-stocked pantry for families who are too afraid to leave their homes.

A volunteer organizes donated items for distribution

A volunteer organizes donated items for distribution to families at the Minneapolis high school.

a teacher makes a delivery to a family

A teacher makes a delivery to a family in Minneapolis.

Teachers and volunteers sort donations by category, including hygiene goods, breakfast cereals, bread and tortillas, fruit and vegetables, diapers and other baby items. Bags are labeled with each student’s name and address and filled with the items their family has requested. After school, teachers deliver the items to the students’ homes.

Noelle said some students, particularly those who are homeless, are now at risk of failing because they’re in “survival mode.” Their learning is stagnating, she said.

“A lot of these kids are — I mean, they want to be — college-bound,” Noelle said. “How do you compete [for admission] with the best applicants if you’re online right now and doing one touch-point a day with one teacher because that’s all the technology that you have?”

On Thursday afternoon, 20 of 44 students had shown up for an AP world history class where the whiteboard prompt asked, “Why might some people resort to violent resistance rather than peaceful protest?”

Upstairs, in an 11th-grade U.S. history class, attendance was even worse — four students, with 17 others following online. The topic was what the teacher called the nation’s “first immigration ban,” the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882.

students walk to a bus

Students head to their bus at the high school.

Morgan, the teacher, asked the students to name a similarity between the Chinese exclusion era and current day.

“Immigrants getting thrown out,” one student offered.

“Once they leave, they can’t come back,” said another.

“The fact that this is our first ban on immigration also sets a precedent that this stuff can happen over and over and over again,” Morgan said.

Sophie, who teachers English language learners, led the effort to organize the online school option. She is from Chile and says she has struggled to put her own fear aside to be present for the students who rely on her. Driving to school scares her, too.

“It’s lawless,” she said. “It doesn’t matter that I have my passport in my purse. The minute I open my mouth, they’re going to know that I’m not from here.”

Sophie said she once had to call a student’s mother to say her husband had been taken by immigration agents after another school staffer found his car abandoned on a nearby street.

“Having to have that conversation wasn’t on my bingo card for that day, or any day,” she said. “Having to say that we have proof that your husband was taken and hearing that woman crying and couldn’t talk, and I’m like, what do I say now?”

Close to the 4:15 p.m. dismissal, administrators again donned their neon vests and logged on to the neighborhood Signal call for possible immigration activity.

Students walk to a bus

Students walk to a bus Thursday. Dismissal used to be a free-for-all, with large numbers of students rushing outside as soon as the bell rang.

Dismissal used to be a free-for-all — once the final bell rang, students would rush outside to find their bus or ride or to begin the walk home.

Now pickups are staggered, with students escorted outside one bus at a time. Teachers grab numbered signs and tell students to line up according to their route. If ICE agents pull up, administrators said, they could rush a smaller group of students onto the bus or back inside.

In yet another example of how the immigration raids had crippled attendance, some buses were nearly empty. On one bus, just two students hopped on.

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Centennial High’s comeback story, going from 1-23 to 12-12

To say that DeAndre Cole inherited a difficult challenge when he became the boys’ basketball coach at Compton Centennial this season would be an understatement. The team went 1-23 last season and had a streak of seven consecutive losing seasons since finishing 13-13 in 2017-2018.

“The expectation was to bring the winning culture, to bring some excitement,” the 44-year-old Cole said.

Incredibly, Centennial has already finished its regular season with a 12-12 record and represents one of the biggest turnaround stories in Southern California. The .500 record means Centennial is eligible for a Southern Section at-large playoff berth.

This is a program where UCLA assistant coach Rod Palmer once had teams competing against the best when alumnus Arron Affalo was bombing in threes and delivering dunks before going on to UCLA and the NBA. Centennial won the 2004 state Division III championship. This year’s team went 1-6 in the Ocean League, where Inglewood and high-scoring Jason Crowe Jr. won the league title.

Cole once served as an assistant coach at Washington Prep and Manual Arts. He was set to be head coach at Morningside until the school closed last year.

He’s a Crenshaw grad who says he was kicked off the basketball team by legendary coach Willie West. Asked what he learned, Cole said, “It takes hard work and being dedicated buying into the program and no player is bigger than the program.”

He said his problem was not listening to West and thinking he was the next Stephen Curry.

Even though Centennial had only six players available much of the season for varsity action, Cole created a junior varsity team, so help is on the way if the team gets a playoff spot. The team’s best two players have been guards Jaden McDonald, a transfer from Detroit, and Edward Johnson, who used to be home-schooled.

Five of the six players have played football, including Joshua Crathers, who was the school’s quarterback for two years.

Asked what he learned after winning one game last season, Crathers said, “Don’t give up. When you lose, you get better.”

Cole had to be creative when he lost a player against St. Bonaventure, leaving the Apaches with four players. A student who was a friend of a Centennial player with minimal practices was asked to join the team for a single game.

“We need you to show up,” Cole told the student.

Cole remembers him being so out of shape that he needed a water break after the first play of the game. Centennial won 63-58.

McDonald said the team has no choice but to be in their best shape knowing players have to play the entire game.

“I feel everything that comes to us is deserving, but we have to work hard,” McDonald said.

There’s no reason the program can’t continue to grow considering the Compton area is filled with talent. Remember the city is where DeMar DeRozan, Patrick Christopher, Tyson Chandler and Corey Benjamin once played. It’s about keeping the neighborhood kids home and showing players can develop and explore their basketball dreams.

Considering how far Centennial plunged, a 12-12 record at this point is a stunning reward for the school, players, parents and fans. Let’s see where Cole can take them.

The school is about to go through a rebuilding phase, with the gym being torn down and replaced on a whole new campus.

The straight outta of Compton story is in its beginning stage, but it sure looks like things are changing fast.

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