Poetry Connection: Connecting with the Low State Writing Salon

  

Melinda Palacio, Santa Barbara Poet Laureate 2023-2025

Patricia Sanders and Muta Munemo

In a Santa Barbara way, two of my worlds collided and I was happy for the serendipity. I have been meaning to attend the Low State Writing Salon for at least two years, but earlier this month I finally went. 

I received a little nudge from Patricia Sanders who cohosted the event along with J.C. and Muta Munemo. Patricia recently started taking Flamenco Dance lessons with Rosal Ortega Flamenco. I rarely go to the beginning class on Saturday but was pleasantly surprised to meet a fellow poet there. 

Patricia led a poetry workshop in town for seven years, but said she moved on to concentrate on her own writing and other projects. She recently finished a level 2 training as an executive leadership and life coach. After flamenco class, we started talking about poetry and how she had been invited to cohost September’s meeting and offer the prompt. I promised I would meet her at the Blue Owl salon and am glad I went. I met another fellow poet there, Diana Raab who also knew Patricia from Raab’s popular women’s circle at Godmother’s bookstore in Summerland.

The Blue Owl continues to serve excellent food. I love their fried rice salad. I found the venue to be a bit small, noisy, and crowded for a space to encourage writing. However, despite all the disruption, everyone was happy to have a place to gather after the workday. T

he Low State Salon attracts an eclectic variety of people who value the opportunity to write. The salon used to meet on lower state street, hence the name. It’s been at the Blue Owl for the past two years. It was nice to see some familiar faces and many new ones. 

For Patricia, being in community with other writers is one of the reasons that keeps her coming back to the Low State Writing Salon. “I can feel the creative energy when writers come together,” she said. “It’s not the same energy I get from other people or other types of artists.” She also enjoys the Blue Owl’s food. The event is free but organizers ask that you purchase something. 

Despite the noise and the lack of a working microphone, the salon attendees wrote, and everyone stayed to share and listen to each other’s writing. Patricia was surprised by everyone’s enthusiasm. She suspects it had something to do with the fact that the mic was not working and that people needed to huddle closer. 

“There was beautiful energy and at the end no one wanted to leave; sitting made the evening more intimate and people were more willing to share.” 

Patricia’s prompt on Blessings elicited heartfelt responses and powerful writings. She chose the theme of Blessings because she is interested in the word’s expanding definition. “There’s no one way to be blessed and most blessings are chaotic,” she said.

 

Diana Raab

Next month’s Low State Writing Salon will meet on October 13, 5 West Cañon Perdido Street, 7pm. The salon meets every second Tuesday of the month and its usual host, Trish Fancher, will take over after her September hiatus. This week’s poetry connection poem comes from Diana Raab.

BLESSING

May you wake up

wanting to play hide and go seek

like a child, baseball like a boy

fetch like a dog

and read as many books as a librarian.

May you count stars in the sky

and make a wish on each,

while a neighbor once again

screams at his kids.

May you walk your dog through

the forest to calm your nerves.

May your friends hug you when needed

and may family leave you be,

especially on days

when you want to be alone.

May you wake up every morning

to a new horizon and possibilities.

May you smile at strangers

and hug those who need you

and bless those who are crying

and honor those

who’ll live for only one more day.

Diana Raab is a poet, memoirist, workshop leader, thought leader, and award-winning author of 13 books of nonfiction and poetry, and editor of three anthologies. Her poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and The Best of the Net. She frequently speaks and writes on writing for healing and transformation. Her poetry collection, Walking Myself Home: Haibun & Haikus is due out in May 2027 (Finishing Line Press). Visit https://www.dianaraab.com

*this column was previously published in the Santa Barbara Independent

Dark Lit of the Suburbs

Review: David A. Romero and the Dark Lit of the Suburbs in The Enemy Sleeps

Margaret Elysia Garcia

Noir is having its Latino/Chicano moment, and I am here for it, and I hope it lasts decades to come. Historically, noir centers around a main character who is usually a white guy of some moral ambiguity; there is also a damsel of mystery who we never know until near the end whether she is a victim of circumstance or the orchestrator of downfalls. It’s always been a fun genre of murder and intrigue. But noir has its limits in character development and motivation.

While Walter Mosley has certainly been able to turn the genre on its head for the last few decades—noir is experiencing now what I would like to call its Latino emergence. 

Gabino Iglesias' third, and award-winning novel, The Devil Takes You Home with its follow up, The House of Bone and Rain, explore a new take on the genre of noir. 

Iglesias coined the term barrio noir to describe his characters and stories. In his books, the Latin American tradition of magical realism, American racism, and the desperation of impending contemporary poverty (lack of health insurance or a giant medical bill rather than a get rich quick scheme, for example) combine to make noir more relevant than ever. The Texas-based Puerto Rican author has moved the goal post in a literary direction for the genre.

Likewise, debut novelist David A. Romero takes the dark mystery story out of the easily identifiable and ethnic urban environment and into the assimilating suburbs. Romero provides an exciting new take on both the genre and expands the notion of what the Latino/Chicano story can entail with his novel The Enemy Sleeps. 

To remain relevant, noir and mystery must change and adapt to fit a more contemporary ethos and Romero’s novel certainly provides that. The cover art by Art Carrillo exemplifies this beautifully. For what is the southern California suburb if not one of pushing social order and ignoring the history of the landscape? Here we have a row of trash, organic waste, and recycle bins, ubiquitous in suburban life, the coyote of wilderness and conformities encroachment, and the bloody handprint. Perfect.

This makes the novel absolutely delicious to me, a connoisseur of the dark.

My grandfather, a gardener all this life, used to warn us that the ones most likely to stiff a gardener are never the rich or poor, but the precarious middle-class suburbanites who are just one step up from where they began. He had plenty of evidence over the years to the point where he would just not accept jobs in up-and-coming suburbs. In the suburbs, the component of danger is the precariousness of the newly arrived who climbed out of the urban landscape with aspirations of a higher economic status, but whose bank account has dwindled in making that down payment for the better life. It’s a haunting lifestyle change. Or more bluntly: you can take the Latine out of the city, but the moral fight might be remembering who you are in the new landscape.

David A. Romero, Martillo

I sat down with Romero recently to talk about The Enemy Sleeps. Romero, a well-known spoken word performance artist and poet from Diamond Bar accomplishes a challenging goal. Not everyone can make the jump from poetry to prose. Writing stories was Romero’s first love and poetry—what he’s known for—was the dalliance. He loves the tradition of Edgar Allan Poe and the use of colloquial language in a story of Kurt Vonnegut, themes of pre-destination and all roads leading to a bad end. True crime, after all, is now mainstream.

Not unlike myself, he’s been inspired by film and music—I’m finding more often that is the case with millennial and gen x writers, especially those of us who grew up in the bleak shadow of Hollywood. The book is intentionally cinematic, inspired in part by noir films like Double Indemnity. Think too in terms of modern horror and noir like Get Out.

The hills surrounding Diamond Bar seem the perfect setting for the unraveling of a story with murder. Ominous dry hillsides, long stretches of highway, and frontage roads at night, that perfect mixture of urban meets wilderness. Anything can happen. A body can easily be dumped. 

The long form of a novel gives Romero a chance to play, including the joy of going off on tangents—like how to set up a tent. But he also has intention with the style of his writing matching the main character. It was also fun for him to write. A murder mystery must have intention, red herrings, and a sense of foreboding. Literary fiction must have philosophical themes it is pre-occupied with, and social commentary must have its scapegoats. And twilight is when it all goes down. To get into the mind of the killer is exciting and thrilling and fun to write—and it speaks to America’s fascination with its macabre and serial killers (Netflix anyone?).

But Romero also touches on something often missing in Latino/Chicano literature that’s near and dear to my own heart: the relationship between Latinos/Chicanos to suburbia. Suburbia always seeks conformity, shared bland capitalistic values and a pretense of safety. Putting Latino/Chicano characters in the suburbs means a discussion on what it means to be Latino/Chicano in the upper working class/lower middle class. 

The pressure for assimilation is huge in the suburbs—it’s a question that is always looming and can be oppressive. Resonating with me is the subtlety of what it is to be Chicana/o and Latina/o—moving beyond the immigration tale and pushing back with our own expectations. I liken it to how, say, Chicano Frankenstein hits, or the Spy Kids franchise, or the Netflix series Wednesday--placing Mexican Americans in stories that humanize and find commonality rather than set us apart with the trauma porn of immigration/narco stories/poverty. Do we not deserve stories that go beyond that? Falling for our own stereotypes, writing with white progressives in mind, trap us in our own cliches.

Romero used his own family’s experience in the suburbs for some of his characters and descriptions. Authentically Latina Gabriela and Xochitl he bases on a cousin’s wife. His first version of the story was front loaded with local history and interspersed with a character who knows the history, the fauna and flora of the region –coyotes always an omniscient presence. The author explodes the prejudice against the undocumented. Romero’s favorite character is Michael Martinez, complex and prideful. Not having a perfect and noble character has always been a part of noir.

A story like this is hard to publish due to agents' and publishers' largely stereotypical expectations of what a Latino story will be. Often, it’s only acceptable to be set in Boyle Heights or East LA with a gang component or immigration story in the mix. We need more stories telling the plurality of what is, and is not, assimilation, and how assimilating does and does not work.

Perhaps, however, Southern California will always be the perfect setting for the murder mystery and the noir. Consider how our history and myth fit snuggly into the genres. We have a mostly mild climate and stolen water. We have the myth of the Californio Spanish period of romanticism. We have the tenacity and exploitation of the robber barons whose names still line our streets and institutions. There is the cinematic aspect to such novels that signify we are—if nothing else—a giant company town of lies and storytelling.

Romero, after much consideration of other presses and acquiring an agent ultimately decided to place it with El Martillo Press—where he is the co-founder and editor-in-chief. The press, while continuing to publish internationally renowned poets and Chicano poets closer to home, has moved into publishing fiction and plays, such as Herbert Siguenza’s Anthology of Latino Plays and my short story collection, Chicana Noir & Other Stories.

Romero is now writing a prequel to The Enemy Sleeps.

 

Battle Royale: Marco and Victor, the Wrestling Bear

                                                                                     

What Victor must have looked like in the wild

     For those who attended Marco's celebration of life reception at the Cinema Bar in Culver City last month. Many said they'd liked to read a story they'd heard published in an online blog called, La Bloga, something to do with Marco wrestling a bear. Here it is. Rest in peace my dear friend.    

                                                                                 *****

     The trendy Whole Foods at the corner of Barrington and National in West Los Angeles has ended its run. Before it was Whole Foods, it had been Westward Ho, and before that the Lilywhite grocery store. Today, the vacant building is hidden by a mesh-covered wired fencing.  It’s hard to believe how fine the building had once been, especially as seen through teenage eyes, when larger grocery stores were replacing the neighborhood Mom ‘n Pop stores.

     At its grand opening in the 1960’s, Lilywhite’s parking lot was filled with kids, parents, teenagers, music, rides, and an assortment of activities. There were local rock bands, a kiddie roller coaster, and exhibitions, the most popular, “Victor, the Wrestling Bear.”

     Victor wasn’t a full-sized bear, more like a cub, but definitely fully formed and taller than five feet on his powerful hind legs. Declawed and muzzled to avoid tearing or biting anyone, Victor could still slide his long, wet tongue through the muzzle and lick away, slobbering all over an opponent’s face, as if adding insult to injury, once he dispatched each enemy.  

     Like many California black bears, Victor didn’t look particularly ferocious, but looks, as they say, can be deceiving. His handler offered to pay anyone in the audience $10.00 if he or she could pin Victor to the mat for at least five seconds. Of course, all takers had to pony up a “buck” just to step into the barred enclosure with Victor.

     We had come to the grand opening to listen to the rock bands and meet girls, not to wrangle with Victor, who would eventually draw some knucklehead, usually an older teenager out trying to impress his friends. It only took a little taunting before some sucker would cave to the pressure. Most of the time, it was a guy who thought himself the toughest kid in the neighborhood. 

     Of course, the first kid didn’t last more than a few seconds before he’d go flying through air, Victor falling on him and pinning him to the matt, as if read to say, "Next." It was pretty much the same with anybody who tested Victor’s prowess, his handler reaping the rewards and walking away with the spoils, as well as the kid's dignity. You know, just like in Vegas, “The house always wins,” or in this case, “Victor never loses.”

     Our friend Marco had been a battler all through junior high and entering high school, a string of victories behind him, with his fists or wrestling. He thought it was pretty cool, a wrestling bear. Other than at a county fair or at the Long Beach Nu-Pike did you get a chance to see that. We all could see Marco sizing up Victor, even as each of Victor’s opponents went down to defeat. Somebody finally challenged Marco to get into the cage with Victor. It didn't take much.

     Short in stature but more muscular than any of us, Marco stepped for a closer view of Victor, who, incidentally, had the same name as Marco’s father and older brother. We recognized the expression on Marco’s face. He had no doubt he could kick the wrestling bear’s ass, but he just needed a little encouragement, so we gave it to him. I’m sure Marco liked the idea of reveling in glory and walking away with the prize money. It would make the news at schools from Venice to Santa Monica, across Mar Vista, and on to Westwood, where kids knew Marco’s name, usually because he had whupped somebody from their neighborhood.

      Marco was no slouch. His older brothers had taught him to bob and weave, to lead with a jab, find openings, and throw combinations, hard “rights” and “lefts.” He knocked out a 21-year-old bully who had given Marco' friends a bunch of shit. The guy was on his back before he even got off one punch. Marco was strong, and tough, losing his mother at barely twelve, his dad working all day and playing guitar in a Mexican trio at night, Marco’s three older brothers raised him to fend for himself.

     He had whipped some of the toughest guys in town, even bigger than him, from nearly every junior high to high school in the area, a few of the older guys, too, but Marco, like his dad, and one older brother, had the heart of an artist, a romantic, the guitar and singing his true passions, and the reason we were all at Lillywhite, to see our friend, Joe Ramirez’s band, the Mojo Dave’s, perform on a stage in the parking lot turned street fair.

     Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t that Marco went looking for trouble, but more like trouble would often find him, even when he was just minding his own business. By fifteen, he was like one of those old gunslingers in the television westerns. He’d built a reputation for himself, and the younger gunslingers wanted to see if he was as “bad” as everyone said, so they had started to come around to test him. Of course, he hadn't won every fight, but that never stopped him. That’s why we figured he had as good a chance at beating Victor the bear in a wrestling match as anybody. Though, the omnivore’s name, alone, should have been an omen.

     Marco was fearless. If he had any hesitation at all, it was embarrassing himself in front of the hometown crowd, and all the pretty girls watching. As a fighter, Marco wasn’t a brawler. He was strategic, always looking for an opening, a weakness in his opponent. Marco loved reading history, his nose in the Encyclopedia Britanica, and he could tell you exactly how Attila the Hun, Alexaner the Great, and Genghis Khan marched their armies across hostile territory and defeated their enemies. Marco was also analytical, played the odds, like assessing if Victor had beaten all comers, where had they gone wrong? He realized they had no plan of attack.

     So, Marco stepped up to meet the challenge, man over beast, brains over bawn. He handed over his money and strutted into the cage, eyeing Victor, who had a few inches on Marco, but bigger opponents never intimidated him. Marco looked into Victor’s eyes, and snarled, a method he always employed with a rival. Marco must have seen Victor had no emotions, nothing but darkness in his eyes.

      He considered how easily Victor had tossed his prior victims around like rag dolls because they tried wrestling Victor by clamping down on his arms and taking him down, little by little, but Victor’s arms, or upper legs (The technical anatomical term unclear) were way too strong, and his short lower legs gave him a strong center of gravity, like a catapult, shooting his adversaries into the air before they’d hit the ground, where he’d fall on them, lick their faces with his long tongue, and pin them to the mat.

     Marco’s strategy was to rush Victor, get under his arms, and ram into his chest, like a fullback crashing into a linebacker, Marco’s position of the high school J.V. team, get Victor onto the mat, wrap him up, and pin him, as quickly as possible, utilizing the age old “element of surprise”. So, right at “Go!” Marco flew across the ring, like metal to magnet, and he drove his shoulders into Victor’s chest, taking him down, not only surprising Victor but surprising himself and everyone watching.

     Marco hung on, tight, a barnacle to a boat’s hull, so tight, the bear couldn’t wiggle loose. Marco had his arms wrapped about the bear’s strong body. After a minute, Marco felt victory was his, that is, until the bear’s short legs, made their way under Marco’s stomach, and like a medieval contraption for lobbing boulders over castle walls, Victor catapulted Marco so high into the air, Marco could only watch as the matt came speeding towards him. All he could hear were Victor’s triumphant growls. When he hit the ground, Victor pounced, licking Marco’s face and slobbering all over him, and pinning him to the canvas. The handler said, “My gawd! Victor likes you.”

     With no coaxing from us, Marco reached into his pocket, pulled out another dollar, and paid his fee. At Go! he went at Victor again, this time, thinking he had the wily champ figured out, aware of the short, powerful legs. Marco stuck to his game plan. He again had Victor on the matt, Marco’s face buried in the thick, furry blanket. He’d last longer than any of Victor’s other adversaries. Marco thought he had the bear beaten this time. He stayed clear of the legs.

     Marco’s confidence soared, his past achievements flickering through his mind, a strong, bulky, linebacker in football, a baseball catcher, a junior lifeguard, and water polo player, Marco had stamina. He could feel the bear going limp. Marco gripped Victor’s hide to spin his massive upper body to the mat and pin him, except, Marco, something wasn’t right.

     Marco could feel the muscles under Victor’s hide, but when he went to turn Victor, his hide shifted, as if he was wearing a coat. Marco readjusted his arms and hands, and, again, the fur rolled, at the same time, Victor’s little legs slid under Marco’s belly, and the next thing Marco knew, he was sailing, looking down at his friends, an astronaut entering earth’s atmosphere, and Victor, letting loose a loud growl. Again, when Marco landed back on earth, Victor was there to greet him, licking his neck and face, Marco hollering, and adding quite a few curses, for the handler to get the bear off him.

     Of course, we all had a great laugh, Marco, a true showman, whether singing lead in a band or wrestling a bear. When he dusted himself off, metaphorically speaking, Marco tried explaining the damn bear’s hide rolled like had wheels, but nobody was really listening. Marco said, “The guy should warn people about that, or I would’ve had him.”

Tia Sofia and the Giant Tortilla

Written by Felicia Cocotzin Ruiz

Illustrated by Carlos Vélez Aguilera

Publisher: Gibbs Smith

Print length: 32 pages

ISBN-10: 1423667689

ISBN-13: 978-1423667681

Reading age: 3 - 7 years

Grade level: Preschool - 2

Luna and her little brother, Sol, are back for another adventure —this time with a GIANT tortilla!

2026 Américas Award for Children's and Young Adult Literature Commended Title (CLASP)

After their aunt Sofía accidentally makes a giant tortilla, Sol and Luna discover that it has a special magic with the power to be a cape, a placemat, a scarf, a blanket, and even more importantly—a way to bring back the memory of someone special.

Meet Tia Sofia — the “cool aunt” who creates wild art and loves dancing in her cozy California bungalow. One day, while babysitting her niece and nephew, things get out of control while preparing fresh tortillas in her colorful kitchen.

Distracted by dancing with her niece and nephew in the kitchen, Tía Sofía makes a giant tortilla so big that Luna sees an opportunity for an adventure. Exhausted by a day of laughing, coloring, ghosts, and broomsticks, Luna and Sol finally enjoy lunch with their favorite aunt and her little dog, Tamayo.

This sweet semi-bilingual story includes a seek-and-find of animals commonly found in traditional Mexican folk art and includes a recipe for Tía Sofía’s flour tortillas!

About the Mi Hermosa Familia series:

When a five-year old girl from el barrio (the neighborhood) shares memories of her beautiful family, her rich imagination takes the wheel as she recalls what did—and what almost did—happen. This semi-bilingual series called Mi Hermosa Familia (My Beautiful Family) highlights the small and beautiful moments found throughout Latino communities, told with a dose of magical realism. All books include an interactive seek and find.

A solid choice for libraries looking to expand their slice-of-life Latinx representation. ― School Library Journal

Felicia Cocotzin Ruiz is a storyteller and curandera living in one of the most edible and medicinal landscapes in the world, the Sonoran Desert. Recognized for her work with Indigenous foodways and holistic wellness, Felicia is passionate about sharing food and lifestyle as medicine across many platforms. She is the author of the award-winning books Earth Medicines: Ancestral Wisdom, Healing Recipes, and Wellness Rituals from a Curandera and Nana Lupita and the Magic Sopita. Felicia’s work has been featured in Spirituality & Health, Forbes, Bon Appétit, The List television news magazine, and several other media outlets including The Original Americans episode on Padma Lakshmi’s Taste The Nation (Hulu). Felicia presents frequently around the country on traditional healing practices, culinary medicine, folk herbalism, and Native American food sovereignty for nonprofits, universities, and museums —including the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian. She lives in Phoenix, Arizona.

Carlos Vélez Aguilera was born in Mexico City in 1980. He is a graduate of the National School of Plastic Arts of the National University Autonomous of Mexico and has been a professional illustrator for 12 years. He lives in Mexico City.

Poetry Communities Linking and Celebrating

When Two Poetry Worlds Unite

Michael Sedano

 

Collegiality doesn’t just happen, movers and shakers make it happen, when they are thoughtful people. Poets must support one another because, if we don’t read together, surely we will read separately. It's better when we join in unity.

This is la mera verdad, never so true as Thursday evening, September 17, when a twelve years in operation reading series, The Anna Broome Room, joins with the twenty-plus years Altadena Poet Laureate program, to feature poets published in The Altadena Poetry Review Anthology 2026, published by Golden Foothills Press,  http://www.goldenfoothillspress.com

Anna Broome sizzles with enthusiasm with good cause. It's a spectacular evening.

 

A stellar lineup of poets reading from the pages of the book plus additional work, makes this an extra special event. Co-hosts Anna Broome and Altadena Poet Laureate Emerita Thelma T. Reyna, welcome to the stage anthology Editor-in-Chief Lester Graves Lennon and Assistant Editor Sehba Sarwar, who recently wrapped their two-year term as Co-Laureates. 

 

Completing the the lineup are Mikela Bjork, Linda Kaye, Michael Sedano, John Martinez, and G.T. Foster.

 

The evening begins with an intriguing musical performance by Josh Duron, whose ethereal guitar music blends jazz, blues, flamenco, and Latin rock.

Josh Duron sings from el corazón

 

With the audience warmed up by Duron’s captivating music, Reyna, the publisher of Golden Foothills Press, and Broome, share an infectious celebratory spirit that energizes the readers and, in turn, Broome Room regulars and first-timers to the site, an arts incubator and affordable housing complex for artists. https://www.artsharela.org

Anna Broome generously yields the spotlight to Thelma T. Reyna

Broome gives the transitions between readers a Broadway hit show high-energy. All that’s lacking is a bank of teevee cameras broadcasting live from Art Share LA! As with any live event, you have to be there or be square. No dress code, Levi's and Capris and fancy shirts welcome.

 

Anna Broome takes a dual role, MC and featured Reader.

Two separate poetry communities coming together ignites a creative spark that hopefully continues into future readings. La Bloga encourages gente to buy copies of the anthology to read the work of the spotlighted poets. For more information, here’s La Bloga’s column celebrating the Anthology and Poet Laureate program. https://labloga.blogspot.com/2026/05/twenty-years-of-altadena-poets-laureate.html

Altadena Poet Laureate Emeritus Lester Graves Lennon

Mikela Bjork

Altadena Poet Laureate Emerita Sehba Sarwar

Linda Kaye reads accompanied by piano for a change of pace.

Michael Sedano makes his debut as a feature.

John Martinez conquers the blinding spotlight.

G.T. Foster shares a mostly-memorized program.

Blinded by the light, Thelma T. Reyna gets an illuminating collegial assist from Anna Broome

Energized by the performances, audience members gather in conversation with performers.

Hispanic Heritage Month Celebration at the Johnson County Arts & Heritage Center 2026

Hispanic Heritage Month Celebration at the Johnson County Arts & Heritage Center 2026

 

Xanath Caraza

Xanath Caraza

Xanath Caraza

Xanath Caraza

El miércoles 7 de octubre de 6 a 8 p.m.
Johnson County Arts & Heritage Center
8788 Metcalf Avenue, Overland Park, KS 66212

 

¡Venga al Centro de Arte y Herencia del Condado de Johnson para disfrutar de una agradable velada para la celebración del Mes de la Herencia Hispana! Desde trabajadores mexicanos e inmigrantes recientes de Centro y Sudamérica, la región de Kansas City tiene una profunda historia Latina. Hoy en día, la comunidad Latina es la población de más rápido crecimiento del condado de Johnson. El Mes Nacional de la Herencia Hispana es un momento para honrar las culturas y las contribuciones de los Latinoamericanos en los Estados Unidos. 

 

El evento está apoyado por el Johnson County Arts & Heritage Center, Johnson County Museum, Johnson County Park & Recreation District, Olathe Leadership Lowrider Bike Club, La Mega KC, Telemundo KC, KTD La Grande, La Super estacion, Dos Mundos Radio y El Centro.

 

Este evento es gratis y abierto al público. No es necesario registrarse. ¡Habrá algo para todos!

 

Xanath Caraza

Xanath Caraza

Xanath Caraza

Wednesday, October 7 from 6 - 8 PM
Johnson County Arts and Heritage Center
8788 Metcalf Avenue, Overland Park, KS 66212

Join Johnson County Arts & Heritage Center for a lovely evening in celebration of National Hispanic Heritage Month! From Mexican traders and laborers, to recent Central and South American immigrants, the Kansas City region has deep Latino history. Today, the Latino community is Johnson County’s fastest growing population. National Hispanic Heritage Month is a time to honor the cultures and contributions of Latino Americans across the United States.

 

This event is hosted by Johnson County Arts & Heritage Center, Johnson County Museum, Johnson County Park & Recreation District, Olathe Leadership Lowrider Bike Club, La Mega KC, Telemundo KC, KTD La Grande, La Super estacion, Dos Mundos Radio, and El Centro.

 

This event is FREE and open to the public. No registration required. There is something for everyone!

  

Xanath Caraza