In a district as politically scarred as the 14th of Los Angeles, voter apathy is practically a local pastime. But this election could be different. After all, how many times can you elect a scoundrel before you start wondering if maybe you’re the problem?
In the mean streets of Los Angeles City Council District 14, a political storm is brewing so fierce that even the coyotes from the nearby hills are howling in disbelief.
The Eastside and northeast part of the city, which proudly includes Boyle Heights—a barrio that’s as Latino as a lowrider on a Sunday drive—is gearing up for what promises to be the nastiest, most mud-slinging campaign since the invention of negative advertising.
There are no doves of peace here, only vultures circling over the political carcass of a district long known for being represented by scoundrels, grifters, and garden-variety crooks.
District 14 is like that estranged relative who keeps showing up at family gatherings just to borrow money, make a scene, and leave with the silverware. This district has seen it all.
For years, it was represented by the infamous José Huizar, who recently traded in his City Council badge for a shiny set of handcuffs after being convicted in a corruption scandal that makes Tammany Hall look like a church bake sale. And now, standing tall—or more like standing there and pretending he’s tall—is none other than the embattled incumbent, Kevin de León.
Ah, Kevin. The man, the myth, the survivor of three recall attempts, which is a remarkable feat, really. Not many people can say they’ve been almost run out of office three times and still have the gall to keep showing up. If nothing else, he’s persistent, like a bad cold or a telemarketer who just won’t take “no” for an answer.
Kevin de León is embroiled in controversy after controversy, the most recent being his involvement in a secretly recorded meeting where he and two other Latino councilmembers made the kind of racist comments that make your racist uncle at Thanksgiving sound like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
The tape was like a political nuke. The fallout was so bad that even President Biden, presumably busy with running a country, felt the need to weigh in and politely suggest that maybe Kevin should do the decent thing and step down. Kevin, ever the stubborn mule, said, “No thanks, I’ll stay.” And so he did, like a house guest who refuses to leave even after you’ve put all the furniture on the curb.
Meanwhile, District 14, where Boyle Heights still pumps to the rhythm of Latino culture but the more affluent neighborhoods to the north are starting to look like they’ve been gentrified by organic kombucha, is staring down the barrel of a political showdown for the ages.
Enter Ysabel Jurado, the tenant rights attorney who, against all odds, finished first in the primary election, stunning everyone who had written her off as just another upstart.
But let’s be real. In District 14, political campaigns are less about policy and more about survival of the fittest. Think of it as a gladiatorial fight to the death, but with less swordplay and more passive-aggressive Facebook posts. Kevin de León and Ysabel Jurado are squaring off, and if you’re looking for decorum or class, you’ve clearly wandered into the wrong part of town. This is politics, District 14 style: low blows, mudslinging, and enough personal insults to make you feel like you’ve wandered into an old episode of “Maury.”
De León is wounded, politically speaking, and a wounded politician is a dangerous politician. He’s been in survival mode for so long now that he probably eats, sleeps, and dreams in campaign attack ads. But he’s got something that most politicians dream of—name recognition. He’s a household name, if only because his name has been attached to more scandals than a Kardashian.
His opponent, Jurado, on the other hand, is the new kid on the block, armed with the endorsement of the Los Angeles Times and the hopes of a district tired of seeing its representatives either hauled off to jail or caught making racist comments on tape.
But here’s the rub: Boyle Heights might be Latino through and through, but it’s also fiercely loyal to its own. And Kevin de León, despite everything, is still seen by some as one of them. Jurado, meanwhile, represents the possibility of real change, and she’s got the Times on her side, which, in a city like Los Angeles, counts for something.
But endorsements don’t vote, and neither do idealists. What really counts in District 14 is whether you can convince enough people to drag themselves to the polls, something that Latinos, historically, haven’t been too great at.
Latino voter turnout has often been described as a “sleeping giant,” but let’s be honest—it’s been more like a coma. Getting Latinos to vote is like trying to get a cat to take a bath; it’s possible, but only after a lot of coaxing and more than a few scratches. And in a district as politically scarred as this one, voter apathy is practically a local pastime. But this election could be different. After all, how many times can you elect a scoundrel before you start wondering if maybe you’re the problem?
Of course, it wouldn’t be a proper District 14 race without the traditional campaign dirty tricks. Expect a slew of attack ads, all with that soothing narrator voice telling you that Kevin de León once stole candy from a baby, or that Ysabel Jurado secretly hates puppies. In the world of Los Angeles politics, nothing is sacred, least of all the truth.
As Election Day draws near, one has to wonder if Jurado can really unseat de León. Can this surprise contender really throw the rascal out of office, as Mark Twain might’ve said? The voters of District 14 will have to decide whether they want to keep holding on to a scandal-plagued politician who has more baggage than LAX, or take a chance on someone new, someone untainted by corruption. It’s a tough call in a district that’s seen so many dashed hopes and broken promises that it should come with a warning label: Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here.
And so the saga continues. Boyle Heights will go back to its taco stands and mariachi bands, the northern neighborhoods will keep getting trendier, and Kevin de León will keep smiling that politician’s smile, the kind that says, “I know I’m in trouble, but I’ve got a trick or two left up my sleeve.”
And somewhere soon, José Huizar will be watching from prison, laughing, and thinking to himself, “Same old District 14.”
TONY CASTRO, the former award-winning Los Angeles columnist and author, is a writer-at-large and the national political writer for LAMonthly. org. He can be reached at tony@tonycastro.com.
