Working-Class Struggle

A powerful weapon in the group's arsenal is social pressure — in the form of actual pickets at an employer's office or home, or, more typically, as cajoling, schmoozing, and negotiation between employers and La Raza volunteers.

Lazarte has become the toughest negotiator of the three. She calls accused rip-off artists and lets them know they can either pay or expect to hear from a collection agency. Esteva is the radical ideologue, deft with a megaphone, whose fervency reminds her colleagues of a higher purpose to their work. Peña is the back office whiz — "very efficient, very smart, and very by-the-book and responsible," Ronen says.

Loyola, meanwhile, is the group's soft-spoken voice of reason, explaining that he tries to come across as neutral in employer-worker disputes. "Julio's the good cop. I'm the bad cop. I'm always screaming, so Julio's the reasonable one who comes in" and talks reason to an employer, Ronen says. "Aside from strategizing about the cases, if we do any house visits or protests, Julio will plan those, too. Julio also walks the streets, to let them know about our clinic."

Loyola earned a business degree in Lima, Peru. His skills with a spreadsheet and knowledge of business strategy led La Raza Centro Legal two years ago to make him president of the $1.5 million-per-year nonprofit's board of directors. He still works installing closets and other day labor jobs, so he can continue sending money back home to his family.

He has also obtained work with the city's health department, publicizing city programs to prevent the spread of illnesses among recent immigrants. But he still makes a point of helping his comrades at the Workers' Advocacy Project obtain redress for exploited employees.

"They worked her 12 hours a day, sometimes more, browbeating her, calling her stupid," Loyola said, describing the treatment allegedly meted out to Serralta, the housekeeper who'd worked for the Khans in Atherton. "We want to make sure our voice gets heard."