“I always wanted my grandfather (‘El Chato’ Zamora) to attend my graduation, to see that all his efforts and teachings had borne fruit. I graduated in May and he was there, proud. In December, on my birthday, he passed away”
Some nights, Raquel Zamora can’t sleep. The rush of the day has passed, her daughter is asleep, and she starts to think.
“There’s a school for pregnant teenagers very close to my house, but there are very few students left. And I start thinking about what I would do if I were a member of the LAUSD School Board. I would turn it into a school with many students, I’d take them to play golf…” she says, laughing nonstop. “Because in golf you build great networks. I’d take them to other activities. By two or three in the morning I conclude, ‘Raquel, you haven’t won yet, you don’t even know if you will,’” she laughs again and goes to sleep.
Raquel describes herself as a dreamer with her feet firmly planted on the ground. I tell her that from her words, she seems like a real fighter and also ‘aferrada’, although she prefers the word “persistent.”
In 2020 she ran for City Council in District 14, but Kevin de León won the election. Years later she ran for LAUSD School Board District 2, but dropped out after failing to secure the support of the teachers’ union and others.
“Wait, wait,” she tells me when I mention it. “I’ll tell you the reason for those results.”
She is direct, someone who doesn’t measure or hold back her words. She’s an open book. She doesn’t try to please anyone and isn’t bothered if the results go against her.
“I ran in 2020 when I saw that no one else was stepping up. Kevin had left the Assembly and saw the opportunity to run for council, not because he cared about the district but because he wanted a job while waiting for the mayoral election—that’s what he really wanted. I was inexperienced, I had no money or major backing, and I lost. But at least I was consistent. At least there was one person who said, ‘It’s not right for him to treat the district like a temporary job.’ Later, when I ran for the School Board, I thought I had a good chance, but when I went to the union they practically ‘told me to go to…’ They said there was a better candidate. I thought, well, nobody knows her—let’s see what this candidate who calls herself ‘Doctor’ does,” she says emphatically.
Now she is running again for the same School Board District 2 seat, where her opponent is that “doctor.”
Dr. Rocío Rivas is the current district representative on the School Board and has an important list of endorsements.
“Well yes, she’s the establishment. Politics is very dirty—there are many interests involved. I would ask her to explain to the district the reasons for her decisions. She voted in favor of extending Superintendent Alberto M. Carvalho’s contract. She hasn’t pressed to find out what happened to the Proposition 28 funds—they disappeared, nobody knows anything… Who’s to say that with those funds a Juan Gabriel or an excellent musician couldn’t have emerged? Nothing… She has also spoken in favor of cuts to different positions within LAUSD, and teachers are overloaded with work. You can’t tell me anything—I’ve worked, practically lived, in the district’s schools for much of my life. I know the shortcomings and what people need,” she says passionately.
She is aware that winning this race won’t be easy. It’s a David-versus-Goliath battle, but she doesn’t shy away from the challenge.
“At the very least, let one person be pointing out the district’s problems and the mistakes the ‘doctor’ has made. I don’t have much money for the campaign, but I don’t need advertising campaigns, flyers, any of that. Students, parents, and teachers know me. The ‘doctor’ has to introduce herself to the community. She has had little impact in schools—she shows up for the photo and leaves,” she adds.
District 2 includes Eastside neighborhoods such as East L.A., Boyle Heights, Highland Park, Echo Park, and El Sereno. District 5 “dips” into the area to cover Mt. Washington and Glassell Park, but District 2 picks back up in Los Feliz. It includes nearly 300 schools.
Olga ‘La Guera de la Olvera’ Peralta with her granddaughter Valentina. Quite a story in the Placita Olvera.
A woman who breathes and lives Boyle Heights
She was born and raised in Boyle Heights. Her neighborhood is central to her life and her family’s life. On her father’s side, she is the granddaughter of the famous “Chato” Zamora, founder of Zamora Bros., a restaurant with more than 50 years of history. On her mother’s side, she is the granddaughter of Olga, known as “La Güera de la Olvera.” She knows the city’s traditional Latino neighborhoods like the back of her hand.
“My grandparents are my heroes. I learned so much from them—I am the woman I am because of them. From a very young age I was at the restaurant stacking boxes and products and later running the register… heaven help you if a dollar was missing!” she laughs.
Her grandmother Olga worked for 60 years at Olvera Street. “She sold handicrafts at the stalls. Owners would come and go, but she stayed. She was very well known. Imagine that—60 years taking the Route 68 bus from Boyle Heights to Olvera Street, day after day.”
Raquel was known as “Olga’s granddaughter.” Her grandfather affectionately called her “prieta, prietita.” She called him “papa papa.” “He didn’t want me to call him grandpa, so I solved it by calling him ‘papa papa.’”
The Zamoras come from a family of six generations of butchers. Her grandfather was originally from Irapuato, where those six generations perfected the carnitas that have delighted people in Mexico and Los Angeles.
Raquel preferred being at the restaurant to spending time with friends. School was another of her passions. She loved studying—especially math, which she excelled at.
“It’s not just about selling food. My grandfather was always generous with the community—he would invite people to eat, and if he saw someone in need, he offered them food. But that’s not all. That’s where I learned how to socialize, how to treat people, how to interact in business. I learned the skills that sustain me to this day. At one point, we had up to six restaurants, and my grandfather did it without formal education. But he always told me, ‘If you have a trade, you have a profession.’ And it’s true—you don’t need more titles than your work.”
Raquel wanted to become a lawyer, and her grandfather supported her dreams. She also studied sociology, among other things.
Two things hit her very hard: the death of “Chato,” her guide and mentor, who passed away after being diagnosed with colon cancer; and the deportation of her father, who later died during the pandemic in 2020.
“I always wanted my grandfather to attend my graduation, to see that all his efforts and teachings had borne fruit. I graduated in May and he was there, proud. In December, on my birthday, he passed away,” she says. “My father died in 2020. He was already back in his hometown, Irapuato. It was very hard—he was alone. My daughter Valentina and I visited him when he was first deported to Tijuana—we were there. But I could only fly in time for his burial,” she adds.
Norma and Raúl, her parents. They always motivated her to achieve her goals. Her father was deported to Tijuana, which created a rift that hit her hard.
Education is her passion. Her students, her priority
The lessons she learned in the restaurant have served her in education. “When people are in a restaurant, you welcome them into your business and make them feel good. I teach English Levels 1 and 2 to adult students from different countries. In a way, I’m the person who welcomes them to this country. I make them feel comfortable and confident, and I introduce them to this system. That fills me with joy and satisfaction.”
She pauses for a few seconds, her voice breaking.
“I won’t expose them now—the situation the country is going through puts them at risk, and I don’t want to do that. Before, I loved taking them on field trips. We visited museums and historic places. They experienced lessons that will stay with them for the rest of their lives. Later, some call me and say, ‘Teacher, remember when we went to…?’ And that’s priceless,” she adds.
Currently, she has three jobs, in addition to working with social workers and teachers who serve students, around 150 counselors. She doesn’t rest on Saturdays either; she faithfully goes to the East L.A. Skill Center, where she began teaching, to give her English classes. Teaching is her passion.
“We’re on the verge of going on strike, and they give the superintendent a $500,000 salary. They’re robbing the students. There are many injustices in the schools—we’ll see what the community chooses.”
The challenges facing LAUSD—and her own
“We have to be realistic,” she says emphatically. “LAUSD needs many resources, and there are few available at the state and city levels. We’re navigating in the red. We need someone who knows how to obtain money and resources—not just ask for them in a budget. Don’t forget, I also have business experience. Think what you want, but running a restaurant isn’t that different. You have to innovate, figure out how to cover expenses, introduce new menus and prices, and make the business sustainable. I also work day to day with the mental health problems emerging among students. What’s happening is terrible. We can’t govern LAUSD from a desk—we have to be where things are happening: in classrooms, with teachers, with workers, with those who make the district function,” she says.
District 2 has a large majority of Latino students, affected by immigration raids and their parents’ situations.
“I lived it with my own father—I know what they’re facing. That’s why people who know me kept saying, ‘Run, run…’ And I saw that no one was willing to run against Rivas. I told myself, well, it’s my turn again… but this time it will be different. I have more experience and I know how things work. I know who’s two-faced, who turns their back on you, who supports you. I lose nothing—I’m here for the students. If I don’t win, I’ll go back to the classroom with my students,” she adds.
“We’re on the verge of going on strike, and they give the superintendent a $500,000 salary. They’re robbing the students. There are many injustices in the schools—we’ll see what the community chooses.”
But Raquel won’t be alone in her fight. She is accompanied by her students of many years, her daughter, her family, and her community. She is accompanied by “El Chato” Zamora, who used to sing her favorite song in her ear:
