Photo by Stephen Oduntan
By Stephen Oduntan
Contributing Writer
WATTS — On a breezy morning, U.S. Rep. Maxine Waters stood outside the Watts Labor Community Action Committee headquarters on Central Avenue and told her constituents they needed to organize and take back their country.
“This is a coup,” she said. “The president of the United States has taken over the Justice Department. He’s taken over the media. … We’ve never seen anything like this before.”
She targeted President Donald Trump, whose return to office, she said, threatens public institutions and communities like hers.
“He wants to put his foot on our necks,” she said. “He is a racist. … He does not wish us to be successful.”
The town hall April 19 — one of three Waters hosted that day — drew residents concerned about housing, health care, and unraveling safety net programs.
“They may not get their Social Security checks,” she said. “He says he’s not cutting it — yeah, you’re firing everybody. You’re closing all the offices in our district.”
Since returning to the White House, Trump has pushed to slash federal oversight, eliminate diversity initiatives, and reshape the civil service — triggering backlash from progressive lawmakers like Waters. Across the country, officials are holding town halls and protests in what they call a renewed civil rights fight.
Inside the auditorium, residents filled rows beneath exposed rafters and fluorescent lights. Older Black women in cardigans, young advocates in hoodies and longtime residents looked on as Waters took the stage. Behind her, panelists sat beneath paintings of iconic figures — artwork evoking a legacy of struggle and resilience.
Jon “Bowzer” Bauman warned the audience about threats to Social Security, calling them the most serious in the program’s 89-year history.
Waters turned to housing. “Some people on Section 8 think, ‘I’ll get mine eventually,’” she said. “You may never get it again — not if it’s left up to Trump.”
Lourdes Castro Ramírez, CEO of the Housing Authority of the City of Los Angeles, warned that federal cuts could let emergency housing vouchers expire by 2026 — putting 3,100 formerly homeless households, including 700 children, at risk.
“These same people — people who found hope — are now afraid of what’s to come,” she said.
Jerome A. Champion, a Watts native and former HUD regional director, said Waters was the reason the local HUD office remained open during earlier downsizing.
“You need staff on the ground who understand the community,” he said. “You can’t run housing from San Francisco and expect things to work in Watts.”
Bertha Alicia Guerrero, formerly with the federal Department of Health and Human Services, shared one of the day’s most emotional stories. Her grandmother died from preeclampsia while pregnant with her sixth child.
“Health care is not a benefit — it is a human right,” she said, warning that Trump’s proposed Medicaid cuts could strip $880 billion from working families. “That money’s not going to the budget — it’s going to tax cuts for the rich.”
Marissa Rosenblat, a tech worker at the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, said she was laid off twice in two months.
“They locked us out of headquarters,” she said. “The next day, 200 of us got emails: ‘You’re terminated.’”
She blamed Elon Musk for orchestrating mass firings to weaken oversight. “This is billionaires against working people.”
Mayra A. Lara of EdTrust–West said proposed education cuts would gut Pell Grants, Title I funding and student loan relief.
“We’re not going to sit back. We’re going to fight,” she said.
Dominic Davis, president of the local postal union, warned about efforts to privatize the U.S. Postal Service.
“They want to end six-day delivery — maybe even delivery to your home,” he said. “Billionaires see a chance to control the mail. But this is your service. We’re fighting for it.”
The audience often applauded as speakers laid out the stakes. But a few dissenting voices reminded the room of political diversity — and frustration with both parties.
Asked if she would work with Republicans or accept PAC money, Waters didn’t hesitate.
“I don’t take big bank or crypto money,” she said. “No PAC wants to touch me — and I’m fine with that.”
Annette Davis Jackson, a longtime Republican voter, stepped up to the mic.
“Will Democrats work with Republicans?” she asked.
Waters didn’t flinch.
“No, I will not,” she replied. “I don’t mess with Republicans — and I never will.”
The audience applauded as she added, “Next, please. Let the Democrats speak.”
Later, Jackson shared her frustration.
“The Democrats haven’t done anything for this district all the years they were in office,” she said.
A legal aid attorney criticized the dismantling of civil rights protections under Trump.
“It was like Trump wanted the building that housed the Civil Rights Division, and they were all pushed out,” she said. “The ones who were let go — those who made up the Civil Rights Division — were mostly people of color.”
George Ray Thomas Jr., better known as Tony Bogard, stepped forward — a reentry advocate who spent decades in prison.
A founding figure in the early Crip movement in Los Angeles, Thomas served two life sentences before winning his release. He taught himself the law behind bars and eventually overturned his conviction, all while battling stage 4 throat cancer. A tracheostomy — the result of delayed treatment and alleged medical neglect — left him with a permanent hole in his throat and a raspy voice that now defines his speech.
Gripping the mic with steady hands, Thomas used that altered voice to back Waters.
“That woman comes in high heels — and she in the trenches with us every day,” he said. “She doing stuff police officers don’t even do.”
His words drew murmurs of agreement. In a gathering shaped by policy talk and protest strategy, his praise stood out — a reminder that, for some, Waters remains a symbol of unwavering loyalty to the most marginalized.
Thomas made his support plain.
“Only thing that woman ever did was show up,” he said. “Y’all Republicans just trying to throw her under the bus. She the only one goin’ straight at y’all.”
Waters closed the event not with fear, but with a charge.
“We’ve got to fight,” she said. “Show up, speak out, and help people understand what’s really happening.”
Stephen Oduntan is a freelance reporter for Wave Newspapers.
