LOS ANGELES— Tucked in a corner of a Sylmar strip mall, an unassuming storefront bears the name of a once lively and spirited woman.
Through the double doors the hum of the main street is replaced by the soft creaking of the floorboards. The light bears down more gently on walls adorned with Indigenous artwork. Close by, an altar for Tia Chucha is decorated with the symbols of earth, wind and fire.
Entrance of Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural in Sylmar, Calif. (Fernando Leiva/ L.A. Times High School Insider).
Named after the aunt of co-founder Luis J. Rodriguez, Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural stands as the only independent bookstore in the northeast San Fernando Valley.
Since its inception in 2001, the bookstore relocated four times around the Valley and evolved into a nonprofit focused on promoting literacy and cultural celebration.
According to Rodriguez, a poet and activist, Tia Chucha’s was born out of a desire to improve access to bookstores and artistic spaces in a predominantly Latino area.
“I was trying to honor my favorite tía who was a musician, who played guitar, did poetry, danced,” Rodriguez said. “As a woman, she was very independent. And she was a great creator. I wanted to honor that spirit.”
Tia Chucha’s altar at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural in Sylmar, Calif. (Fernando Leiva / L.A. Times High School Insider).
BEGINNINGS
It was 1973 in Berkeley, Calif. when Rodriguez experienced a turning point in his life.
At 18 years old, he found himself at a poetry reading with renowned literary figures like Chicano poet Jose Montoya and Puerto Rican playwright Pedro Pietri.
“They had all these emotions. It stopped me in my tracks,” Rodriguez said. “I didn’t sneak out. I got to watch the whole thing and it made me think that ‘man, maybe I could do that.’”
Rodriguez, a former gang member who experienced years of addiction and incarceration, won an honorable mention for the Quinto Sol Chicano Literary Contest.
As he recalls, this poetry reading played an immense role in his decision to become a writer.
“You tend to gravitate towards the things that are already inside of you… Normally a reading like that wouldn’t affect most people, but it affected me,” Rodriguez said. “After letting go of all the drugs and everything, I dedicated myself to being a writer.”
But having lived through the Chicano Moratorium and East L.A. Walkouts, Rodriguez’s decision to pursue writing was also fueled by his desire to see more stories that reflected his indigenous and Mexican American identities.
“If you [went] to the library, there was no Garcias or Sánchezes or Rodriguezes on the shelves,” Rodriguez said. “So it gave me this notion that maybe I can have books up there … It’s a hell of a dream. It’s a hell of an imagination.”
Books written by Luis J. Rodriguez on bookshelf at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural in Sylmar, Calif. (Fernando Leiva / L.A. Times High School Insider).
After living in Chicago for 15 years, Rodriguez returned to L.A. in 2000 having immersed himself in Chicano literary circles and indigenous ancestral practices.
Looking to address the lack of Chicano literary spaces that had once been prevalent in the 1960s and 70s, Rodriguez and his wife, Trini Rodriguez, joined Enrique Sanchez, their brother-in-law, to establish what would become the Sylmar-based nonprofit.
As part of its mission to improve access to literature for Valley communities, Tia Chucha’s book selection primarily focuses on topics of social justice and minority populations.
“Because I came out of the movement, I was always interested in social justice issues,” Rodriguez said. “We wanted to emphasize books that you couldn’t really get in most bookstores … because our community is quite varied that way.”
In its 25 year history, the store has relocated multiple times due to rising rent costs. But for Rodriguez, watching Valley communities gather at Tia Chucha’s has made the financial struggles worth enduring.
“It’s the community that [has] kept us alive, but also eventually the community became … the stakeholders,” Rodriguez said. “We keep ourselves alive by moving currency. And I don’t mean currency like money, but also spirit and energy.”
“HOME AGAIN”
The lights dim and the chairs are set. Attendees of all ages slowly trickle in, each carrying a copy of the month’s read.
Like clockwork, each meeting begins with attendees introducing themselves. Club facilitators Jackie Garcia and Sarahi Sepulveda then take a preliminary survey of the group’s feelings toward the book. Finally, the discussion begins.
Book Club discussion at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural in Sylmar, Calif. (Fernando Leiva / L.A. Times High School Insider).
From its start in 2019, the book club has evolved substantially. From mostly reading non-fiction to now reading primarily fiction, the group has also shifted to reading about social justice.
According to Garcia and Sepulveda, this change happened as they began to better understand the interests of the community.
“We’re always like making sure that the books we pick are also something that the library has available. And if you’re interested in audiobooks, there’s no shame.” Sepulveda said, “[It’s about] making this as accessible as possible.”
Most recently, the club voted to read “Open Throat” by Henry Hoke, a story about mountain lion trying to survive in the increasingly urbanized landscape of L.A.
For members, the club offers a space to discuss literature with other locals.
“To have the types of conversations that I had in college, but in a way that feels grounded in reality, arguably better than ones that feel very detached from people’s real lives, like in academia,” said Jasmine Alas-Castillo, a Pacoima resident and book club member. “It has made this place that I’ve called home, home again.”
Alas Castillo spent four years studying at Georgetown University in Washington D.C. and graduated in 2025. For her, joining the book club helped replicate the intellectual discussions she had in college and eased the transition of coming back to the West Coast.
“Growing up here, I always separated the intellectual part of myself and the [social] part of myself. There was not a space to thrive socially when it came to intellectual stuff,” Alas-Castillo said. “Book club for me embodies the combination of that… I can bring all these parts of myself into a space and not worry about how I’m being perceived or if I’m too much or if I’m too rambly.”
Alas-Castillo also values the intergenerational connections she has made with other book club members, particularly Irene and Jorge Garcia.
Book club members Jorge Garcia, left, Jasmine Alas-Castillo, center, and Irene Garcia, right, gathered at June book club meeting at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural in Sylmar, Calif. (Fernando Leiva / L.A. Times High School Insider).
“I think the camaraderie and the respect that they have for each other as intellectuals [is] so aspirational,” Alas-Castillo said. “I admire how much Irene and George don’t fall into that [cynicism] when it’s really easy to just be like, ‘what are these kids talking about?’”
Irene and Jorge Garcia are Simi Valley residents who began attending Tia Chucha’s book club in 2019. As California natives with decades of experience in teaching, both became deeply acquainted with the systemic and educational concerns at the forefront of the Chicano Movement, even marching together during the 1970 Chicano Moratorium.
Born to an agricultural family in the San Joaquin Valley, Jorge Garcia taught Chicano Studies for more than 40 years and became the first Mexican American Dean of the School of Humanities at Cal State Northridge.
Irene Garcia, who grew up in East Los Angeles, was one of only a handful of students from her graduating class at Garfield High School to attend Cal State L.A. Through a program sponsored by the Lyndon B. Johnson administration, Irene Garcia began her decades-long career as a teacher in elementary and bilingual education.
For Irene Garcia, the Book Club allows her to connect with the perspectives of younger generations of Chicanos.
“I love coming here because of the young people’s perspective.They have had different experiences,” Irene Garcia said. “One of the reasons I love to read is because I’m only going to experience my own life. I want to know how other people live, and I want to know how other Chicanos and people of color, what their experiences have been.”
For Jorge Garcia, Tia Chucha’s Book Club represents a major step toward expanding access to literacy and cultural understanding in a community that lacked access to Chicano authors and texts only a few decades earlier.
Together, the Garcias said they feel Tia Chucha’s has helped establish a gathering space for communities of color the Valley had needed for a long time.
“There used to be a lot of bookstores [in the Valley] … but we didn’t have one that dealt with books about us, our issues, and how we interact with our environment,” Jorge Garcia said. “I want the books that reflect who is here and who is a reading public. And young people will read. This is proof of it.”
WORLD CUP TRADES
Stadium chants fill the room as the referee kicks off the match on the eve of the World Cup Final.
Visitors stare intently at the screen playing the third-place game between England and France. On tables that span the width of the room, some take inventory of the stickers they have acquired. Others stand nearby, considering who to approach for their next trade.
Locals gather to trade World Cup stickers at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural in Sylmar, Calif. (Fernando Leiva / L.A. Times High School Insider).
In celebration of World Cup season, Tia Chucha’s hosted a series of Panini sticker swaps where attendees trade limited-edition stickers featuring players of the 48 teams attending the 2026 World Cup. The goal: trade enough duplicate stickers to fill out all 980 player spots in each booklet.
The range of experience is varied. While some have traded stickers for decades, others are just getting started.
Attendees trade Panini World Cup 2026 Stickers at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural in Sylmar, Calif. (Fernando Leiva / L.A. Times High School Insider).
“I remember doing it in 1994 when I was 10 years old and then this time I’m actually helping my husband do it for the first time,” said Altagracias Meckler, whose husband was introduced to sticker trading by his students.
For others like Diego Lopez de Anda, attending the sticker swap is a way to bond with other long-time soccer fans. Lopez de Anda began trading as a child in his birthplace of Mexico and kept the practice going after he moved to The United States.
“For me this is the magic of every four years. It’s the first time where [the World Cup] is here, at least in our generation,” said Lopez de Anda, who sported Mexico’s team jersey. “It’s great to be in a community where everyone loves it.”
PRESERVING HERITAGE
A steady rhythm echoes under the canopy of trees. Traditional Mexikah headwear spins through the air as people begin to match the heartbeat of the drums. Each step carefully measured and rehearsed.
Dancers at Mexikah step-by-step dance class at Brand Park in Pacoima, Calif. (Fernando Leiva / L.A. Times High School Insider).
Twice a week, locals gather at Brand Park in Pacoima for step-by-step class on Mexikah dance, a tradition dating centuries back to the Indigenous societies of Mesoamerica.
“Danza is an intricate part of our lives. It’s prayer and motion, it’s intention setting … it’s warriorship for men and women,” said Monique Orozco, whose ceremony name is Tezkatl Akatl. “It’s the fiber of our ancient cultures.”
As the Head Dancer for the Kalpulli Temachtia Quetzalcoatl group, Orozco facilitates the Danza Mexikah classes organized through Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural.
For Orozco, the Danza Mexikah allows her to celebrate her Indigenous heritage and honor her ancestors.
“Danza is more than just working out… [it’s about] having an individual battle within yourself to be disciplined and focused,” Orozco said. “Bring yourself to the dance, the songs, the smoke, the drums. No matter how you’re feeling.”
A few miles away, a smaller group of teens gathers at the El Nido Family Centers for a different type of dance.
Under the guidance of Wendy Centeno, several teens blend garbanzo beans, chop cilantro, mince grilled chicken, and assemble their ingredients into a tortilla-wrapped creation.
Food prepared by attendees at Flavors of Love, Justice, and Community class at El Nido Family Centers in Pacoima, Calif. (Fernando Leiva / L.A. Times High School Insider).
Centeno is a culinary teacher for the Flavors of Love, Justice, and Community cooking class and the founder of Guayaba Kitchen, a Pacoima-based organization focused on improving access to fresh and healthy foods for underserved populations in the northeast sector of the Valley.
Through the Coateca Collective, a culinary arts initiative created by Tia Chucha’s, Centeno frequently partners with the Sylmar nonprofit to host cooking classes. Her goal is to teach youth how to cook using ingredients already common in many Latin American cuisines.
A student, left, and Wendy Centeno, right, at Flavors of Love, Justice, and Community cooking class at El Nido Family Centers in Pacoima, Calif. (Fernando Leiva / L.A. Times High School Insider).
“Coateca is a Nahuatl word, and it means gathering at the table,” Centeno said, “The way we see it is: food brings us together when we eat, but it also brings us together in conversation and in community.”
Centeno’s ties to cooking are deeply personal, as she founded Guayaba Kitchen in the face of personal adversity.
“Guayaba Kitchen started out of a necessity. I had a tía who was battling cancer. When my tía was in the hospital, I did research on plant-based foods and how food is medicine and it helps folks get through chemo.” Centeno said. “So I was like, ‘How can I turn my love for literature and Chicano studies, but then also center it around another thing that I love?’ Which is food.”
By combining her passion for cooking and desire to help people like her aunt, Centeno hopes to show others how food can serve as a form of healing.
“There’s something magical about sharing space and recipes and ideas… It’s all about food accessibility. It’s all about having pride in our foods, our original foods, our indigenous foods,” Centeno said “It’s special for me because I’m teaching here in Pacoima. This is where I grew up. This is my people.”
ART AS SOCIAL TRANSFORMATION
Through its wide range of events, Tia Chucha’s has established itself as a hub for community accessibility. From expanding access to literacy and healthy food to preserving Indigenous traditions through art, what once began as a dream has transformed Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural into a cherished gathering space for Angelenos.
As co-founder Luis Rodriguez once hoped, much of Tia Chucha’s shelves are now lined with Chicano and Latino authors. Every day, those who step through the bookstore reflect the rich diversity and history of the city, evoking the bohemian spirit of Tia Chucha.
For Rodriguez, the mission of the bookstore and nonprofit is constantly evolving to meet the needs of locals. But one thing is clear: Tia Chucha’s represents a space where San Fernando Valley communities can access, honor, and construct new parts of their identities.
“It’s important that art be used for social transformation… We got to have a world that is more just, a world in which people’s needs are met, a world in which people can be fully human,” Rodriguez said. “The bigger you dream, the bigger you can deliver.”
