Olympics transit overhaul needs to support working Angelenos, not just tourists

On a day off from work this summer, I took the Metro D Line (which will always be the “purple” line to me) to L.A.’s newest rail station, Wilshire/Fairfax. I wanted to see the La Brea Tar Pits before the museum closed to undergo a $240 million upgrade in preparation for the 2028 Olympics. 

I love the idea that the La Brea Tar Pits and the rest of museum row is now a train ride away for little kids in Compton and Watts, where I grew up. But as I walked through the station and the museum that day, I wondered, Can I be excited while also questioning who we are building all of this for? 

I’ve spent my adult life working in the essential systems that keep L.A. moving. That includes cleaning airplanes overnight at Los Angeles International Airport and working a public safety job that has me answering strangers’ calls as they navigate emergencies.

Like so many Angelenos who do this important work, each day I am forced to ask the question: How am I going to get to work safely?

My commute takes me from Watts to the San Fernando Valley, where I work five unpredictable shifts each week, often during hours when safe public transportation simply does not exist. Routinely I navigate pitch-black darkness, isolated transit terminals and deserted freeways.

If I attempt to utilize the Metro system to get to work, I endure a 1.3-mile walk from my home to the bus stop. The streets of South L.A. are currently plagued by rampant copper wire theft, leaving entire arterial blocks of Main Street, Figueroa Street and Avalon Boulevard in absolute darkness. Walking these unlit corridors means navigating a landscape stripped of basic safety infrastructure.

Even on the transit system, I cannot let my guard down. On multiple occasions, I’ve opted to take the bus or train if it’s running (because Metro Rail does not operate on a 24-hour schedule) only to be met with a system that is dangerous, volatile and deeply unreliable. I have endured explicit, violent threats on and off the bus. I have sat on delayed trains watching the clock tick down, knowing I would be late or forced to miss work entirely.

Not only is that a strike against my own career stability — it is also a threat to public safety because of the nature of my work.

A few years ago, I finally purchased a car, hoping that would help. But driving comes with its own set of issues. I paid upward of $200 monthly for the privilege of parking near my workplace. Then there were the countless dollars I poured into the gas tank.

More terrifying than the financial drain was the physical peril of driving the Los Angeles freeway system at irregular hours. There I witnessed the chaotic breakdown of societal order.

More than once, I swerved to avoid unhoused individuals running blindly across the freeway. One day, someone threw a brick off an overpass onto my car. Later, at a red light, the driver behind me accelerated into my bumper because she panicked over a bee. My Toyota Camry was totaled.

Owning a car didn’t solve my transportation insecurity. It simply changed what I was vulnerable to.

Just recently at a bus stop, a man carrying a pole approached and threatened me. While I made it out physically unharmed, I was shaken by the encounter and didn’t return to work for several days. That changed the questions I asked about transportation. As did my visit to the La Brea Tar Pits. 

While I might enjoy taking the train during regular business hours, if an emergency required me or another essential worker to clock in or out of work at 3 a.m., we couldn’t trust L.A. transportation to get us there.

I often think about L.A. as a living body. The Department of Water and Power is its heart, pumping water and electricity through millions of homes and businesses. Public safety is the immune system that prevents or helps heal sickness or injury. City Hall is the brain. And our streets, buses, rail lines and freeways form the circulatory system, carrying people where they need to go.

Each system depends on another. None functions without workers.

I hope we continue celebrating new stations and new rail lines as our city readies for the 2028 Olympics. But I also hope this influx of infrastructure doesn’t just allow more people to reach Los Angeles. I hope it gives the workers the city relies on the most better access to reliable and safe transportation to get us where we are needed.

This commentary was adapted from an essay produced for Zócalo Public Square.