I first met City Councilmember David Ryu in the mid-to-late-1990s, when Los Angeles was a broken city. We were still reeling from the uprising of 1992, the disinvestment in Black communities and the palpable tension between Black Angelenos and mostly Korean immigrant store owners. Distrust and fear hung heavy in the air.

I had lived in Los Angeles nearly my entire life, and I was trying to heal my community and my city. As a Black man and an original member of the Long Beach Insane Crips, I helped broker a Bloods and Crips truce, but I could only get so far with communities that had been taught by the media to fear me. I wanted to help resolve the conflict between Black communities and Korean immigrants. I knew we needed to find a way to get along, but so few people were willing to listen.

At a time when so many people had retreated to their corners, a young Korean immigrant named David Ryu stepped into the fray. 

David and I walked into Korean-owned stores to de-escalate conflict between merchants and customers. We made community members sit down with the Korean store owners. I would talk straight to the customer about this immigrant trying to build a life in L.A., and David would [speak] in Korean to a store owner about why they shouldn’t fear – and why they should respect – the Black customers and community they were in. 

David and I did this hundreds of times, in countless stores and communities across LA. I never knew why David felt so passionately about walking the streets in Black neighborhoods and understanding the issues on the ground. I never knew why he felt so urgently, that he had to make his Korean community understand. But I do know that without him, we would not have been able to bridge that vast divide. David was young, maybe a little naive, but so was I – and we were both brave as hell. 

David and I did this work for years, as well as citizenship courses and mock interviews. This is the David Ryu I know – a man who loves his city, and will do anything – even put himself at risk – to heal communities and bring people together.

I no longer live in Los Angeles. I’ve got kids and a family, and I’m not as involved in Los Angeles politics. But I do know this: many leaders talk a good talk, but David Ryu actually walked the streets of South L.A., he worked in these communities and he learned, firsthand, our struggle. Not a lot of leaders can say that.

I know that David Ryu is that kind of leader. I have never met a man who knew or loved his city more, and that’s the kind of leadership L.A. needs, especially now.

Nathan Redfern