Atwater is Home

When Joyce Cooper was thirteen, she along with her mother and younger brother moved from Koreatown to Atwater Village. Only a few miles apart, but a world of a difference. 

“We lived on the eighth floor of an apartment building. I went to Hobart Elementary and I had a lot of cool friends. Our class parties were fun because it was a mix of a lot of different foods from Korea, Mexico, and from Central Americans who were just starting to arrive in Los Angeles.”  

In the 80s as Koreatown began to change, the neighborhood becoming more densely populated, and with higher and higher rents, Joyce’s mom sought to move the family to a quieter community. The opportunity came to move to Atwater (it wasn’t yet called Atwater Village) and the family moved along. 

Joyce remembers her first impressions of the neighborhood, taken aback by just how differently this environment was to the one she grew up in. 

“I was so confused; it just felt like a different world with the river, trees, and wildlife—there was so much space. It was a significant shift to go from a Koreatown apartment, not having any green space, and [then] moving to Atwater, which is very green and by the river.” 

At the time, Atwater was an eclectic mix of new Mexican, Central American, and Filipino families, along with older white residents who had been there for many years. A very working-class suburban community in the middle of the city, many of the residents worked in the industries and factories that surrounded Atwater, including Franciscan Pottery, Van de Kamps, and Hostess. 

Fences were a rare sight in the neighborhood, and almost all the residents knew and would greet each other, including Joyce’s new neighbors who were happy to see a family move in.

“Across the street lived an older white couple who had been in Atwater for 40 or 50 years. They told us about the stables in North Atwater, where people would take horses out on weekends and ride down Larga Avenue and around the neighborhood.”

As time passed, the horses stopped coming through, staying near their stables by the river. But Joyce continued to explore her new environment, spending time with friends and siblings strolling down Glendale Boulevard or on outings to the nearby Galleria. She developed an appreciation for her community, learning about its history and quirks. 

“My favorite street in Atwater Village is Madera; I think it’s just a charming little street. If you’re walking from Glendale Boulevard, the houses on the left are a little bit higher, so you kind of have to walk up to them, and the ones on the right are a little lower. I just always thought that was kind of cool.” 

A very quiet community, Joyce recalls never feeling unsafe—so much so that her mom never locked the door to their house, since people were always coming and going. Joyce never had a pair of keys until a few years ago. While very neighborly, like many other Northeast LA communities in the 80s and 90s, Atwater suffered from bouts of gang violence that sometimes spilled onto the streets. In one particular instance during her early twenties, Joyce remembers when two cars began to shoot at each other in front of her house. 

“There was always tagging around and we could hear the gunshots. But I think for us it was more like if you weren’t in that lifestyle, for the most part, they kind of left people alone. To this day I still feel pretty safe around Atwater.” 

Around the same time, she began to notice the first signs that change was coming to the neighborhood. The house on the corner of her street had sold for more than asking, a turning point that marked the beginning of changes unfolding in her community. Many of the businesses that lined Glendale Boulevard began to close including Beaches Market, the Acapulco Restaurant, the Cuban Market, and Silverlake Video. Newer, upscale businesses took their place. 

“It felt like from one day to the next, all of a sudden, bam, everything was different. I don’t even know how to explain it, but it happened really, really fast.

I didn’t understand what that term [gentrification] was. I had never heard it before, to be honest with you. The first time I heard it was in relation to Highland Park, that was probably 2007 [or] 2008.”

Soon after, the quirky houses that dotted Atwater’s street began to be bought up, remodeled, or flipped for a profit. Fences, once a rare sight in the neighborhood, became more commonplace. When Joyce would say good morning to some of her new neighbors, she often got no reply. Her childhood friends and the families she knew for years began to move out, priced out by rising rents. In watching her neighborhood change, Joyce began to feel sentimental and out of place. The Atwater that raised her was drastically changing in front of her eyes, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

“Sometimes I feel like a little bit of an outsider. I’m not really frequenting Glendale Boulevard much these days because I just don’t feel as welcome. I feel like I’m not the person that they’re trying to cater to.

It’s hard to reconcile that. I walk around and I’m a minority in my own neighborhood.”

Still, Joyce holds on to the many cherished memories she’s made over the 40 years she’s lived in Atwater Village. Many of these, including her quinceañera and her college graduation celebration—she was the first in her family to graduate—have taken place at her mother’s home. A special gathering spot that to this day is frequently the site of many family barbecues and reunions, opportunities to get together and remember the old days and look forward to what’s to come. 

“I know who my people are. Atwater is home and our home is very special to us. Our home is our home because we love it, and that’s where our memories are and where the heart of our family is.

This is my neighborhood, this is my home. I live here and I have every right to be here. “

Joyce Cooper is the Director of Branches for the Los Angeles Public Library. She has worked for the Library for over 24 years and values being able to serve the residents of Los Angeles through the services provided by the library. Born and raised in the City of Los Angeles, Joyce grew up in Koreatown before moving to Atwater Village in 1985.