They would walk every Friday evening from one public housing project to another, chanting, “Paz, queremos paz y libertad en nuestro barrio!” — peace, we want peace and freedom in our neighborhood — inviting their neighbors to join them along the way. 

For the mothers of Pico Gardens and Aliso Village, a pair of housing projects in Boyle Heights, the peace walks in the 1980s and 1990s were an act of protest and survival. 

Violence had become a fact of daily life. Middle school students were joining gangs. Shootings happened in the morning and at night. Father Greg Boyle of Dolores Mission Catholic Church later recalled burying eight kids in a three-week period in 1988. About nine gangs were active near the parish.

The women decided there was no other choice but to face the violence head-on. 

“We wanted peace,” Leticia Galvan, now 74, told Boyle Heights Beat. “We wanted to spread a message to the youngsters to be united, to not fight, to respect themselves and the people.”

Father Greg Boyle with the women of Proyecto Pastoral’s Comunidad en Movimiento community group. The group promotes safe streets, civic engagement and community leadership for its members. (Laura Anaya-Morga/Boyle Heights Beat)
A photo shows Father Greg Boyle with the women of Proyecto Pastoral’s Comunidad en Movimiento community group. The group promotes safe streets, civic engagement and community leadership for its members. (Photo courtesy of Proyecto Pastoral; reproduced by Laura Anaya-Morga/Boyle Heights Beat)

Rooted in Dolores Mission’s Christian Base Communities, the women organized weekly peace walks at the height of gang violence in Boyle Heights. They held candles and prayed their rosaries as they walked with each other and their children. Formally, they were known as Comité Pro Paz en el Barrio (Committee for Peace in the Neighborhood). They sought to end the violence and demand respect for one another. 

Their activism helped shape the foundation for Boyle’s anti-gang work, which later developed into Homeboy Industries, the largest gang-intervention and rehabilitation program in the world. Four decades later, these mothers find it crucial to continue talking about those violent years in Boyle Heights as a reminder of how far they’ve come and how hard they fought to get here. 

Some of the women from Aliso Village affectionately called themselves La UVA, or Union de Viejas Arguenderas — the Old Gossips Union. 

“Éramos la pandilla de La UVA,” Galvan joked. “Nuestros hijos decían, ‘Vámonos, llegó La UVA.” 

Though years have passed, many of the women remember the violence of those days as if it were yesterday. 

Mother activists, Maria Flores, left, Amada Holguin, center, and Leticia Galvan, right, organized peace walks in Boyle Heights in the 1980s and 1990s. (Semantha Raquel Norris / For Boyle Heights Beat)

Amada Holguin, now 86, a mother of seven, recalled being caught in the middle of gunfire between two rival gangs after stepping out of the bus on 4th Street more than 30 years ago. “No había dado ni cuatro pasos cuando empezó la balacera,” Holguin said. I hadn’t even taken four steps when the shootout began.

Holguin, who took part in the peace walks, said a young man shielded her face with his jacket and rushed her into a nearby house as gunshots flew past her from all sides. Inside, she stood in shock in a stranger’s living room, eating bread to calm her nerves.

Although traumatic, Holguin now laughs about the shooting, remembering how Dolores Mission parishioners prayed for her that night, mistakenly believing she had been killed. 

“Por la gracia de Dios a mi no me pasó nada,” she said. 

Galvan, a mother of two daughters, also faced violent encounters herself.

On one occasion, she remembered fighting back when she was being robbed. Galvan said she kicked the perpetrator and yelled at him until he left her alone.

“Tenias que estar a la defensiva,” Galvan said. “Nunca pensé yo en (que me mataran).” (You had to be on the defense. I never thought I would be killed.)

Galvan said much of their courage was inspired by Father Boyle. “El Padre Gregorio nos enseñó mucho valor,” Galvan said. (He taught us great courage.)

In an interview with Boyle Heights Beat, Boyle recalled the Thanksgiving dinners the women would host for gang members in the neighborhood. 

“They didn’t want to demonize gang members,” Boyle said. 

“The dinner said, ‘You’re not the enemy. You’re our sons, whether we brought you into the world or not.’ It was very beautiful,” Boyle said.

Maria Flores at Proyecto Pastoral in Boyle Heights on May 5, 2026. (Semantha Raquel Norris / For Boyle Heights Beat)

Life may have been chaotic outside, but the mothers said enforcing household rules went a long way. 

That meant forbidding their kids from wearing Nikes because “the cholos wore them,” or barring their children from being outside past a certain time, even if others their age were out past midnight.

“We raised our children here, but there were rules,” said Maria Flores, now 73, a mother of three, who enforced a strict curfew and participated in the peace walks. 

Flores and her husband required their children to eat meals together as a family. They also ensured their daughter and two sons kept up with household chores. Each had to take turns washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen.

“These chores were important because it taught them to be self-reliant,” Flores said. 

To Flores, running a strict household is what helped steer her children away from gangs. 

“They would have become cholos if I allowed them to come home at all hours of the night,” she said.

In 1986, Boyle and parishioners at Dolores Mission founded Proyecto Pastoral in response to the poverty and gang violence around them. Now, the organization focuses on community-building and social justice.

Angela Gutierrez, 58, a community organizing coordinator at Proyecto Pastoral, points to a photo of Stephanie Raygoza that hangs by her desk. Raygoza was 10 when she was struck by a stray bullet while riding her scooter in front of her Boyle Heights home in 2002. (Laura Anaya-Morga/Boyle Heights Beat)
Angela Gutierrez, 58, a community organizing coordinator at Proyecto Pastoral, points to a photo of 10-year-old Stephanie Raygoza, who was killed by a stray bullet while riding her scooter outside her Boyle Heights home in 2000. (Laura Anaya-Morga/Boyle Heights Beat)

Angela Gutierrez, 58, a community organizing coordinator at Proyecto Pastoral, was part of the peace walks as a young mother living in Boyle Heights. She continues to find strength and inspiration from the activism of the women she saw as motherly figures. 

“Many people don’t know everything we endured. But we lived here. We know,” Gutierrez said. “… As I always say, the women fought and continue to fight against these injustices.”

That fighting spirit remains alive even if gang violence is not what it was before, Gutierrez said. While quality of life in Boyle Heights may have improved, Gutierrez said there is still a lot to do when it comes to pedestrian safety, street cleanliness and homelessness. 

Now, it’s about advocating through forums with community members and local politicians, Gutierrez said. 

Mothers and grandmothers continue to help lead those efforts.

Just recently, Proyecto Pastoral hosted a community meeting informing residents and business owners about a proposed Business Improvement District in Boyle Heights. They also held a forum for candidates seeking to replace Sen. Maria Elena Durazo in California’s 26th Senate District.

“This is the work we need to continue doing,” Gutierrez said.

My background: I was part of the team that launched De Los, a new section of the Los Angeles Times exploring Latino identity. I’ve been a local reporter for The Press-Enterprise in Riverside, The San Gabriel Valley Tribune, and The Orange County Register. You can find my writing on religion, food, and culture in The Atlantic, Eater, the Associated Press, the Washington Post, and Religion News Service. My upbringing spans South Central, El Monte, and Pomona.

What I do: A Report for America corps member, I write about how decisions surrounding immigration, city hall, schools, health, religion and culture impact Boyle Heights and East LA. I do this by spending time with residents and community members, reaching out to civic and elected leaders, and by analyzing related research. I've also mentored Boyle Heights Beat youth journalists.

Why LA: It’s where I’m from. Reporting and living here means appreciating the different neighborhood identities that make up LA. Also, nothing beats walking along the LA River, hiking at Debs Park, or catching a sunset while running on the Sixth Street Bridge in Boyle Heights.

The best way to contact me: My email is alejandra.molina@boyleheightsbeat.org.

My background: I’m originally from Fontana in the Inland Empire and have spent most of my career covering local news for Latino communities in Los Angeles. Most recently, I led coverage of the historic 2024 Latino vote in Nevada as editor of the Las Vegas Review-Journal en Español. Before that, I was the Bilingual Communities Reporter at the Long Beach Post, getting to know the city’s vibrant Spanish-speaking communities.

What I do: I cover topics that will help residents in Boyle Heights and East LA navigate and understand the issues they encounter in their everyday lives while also seeing themselves reflected in the stories we spotlight.

Why LA?: I have vivid memories of visiting El Mercadito in Boyle Heights with my family and indulging in gorditas, esquites and nieves de limón before our hour-long drives back to the IE. The struggles of underserved communities are felt across county borders and I’m eager to report on a community that reminds me of home.

The best way to contact me: My email is laura@boyleheightsbeat.org.

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