En Nomine Patris — Notes from an East LA Parish

The Tuesday Night Decision You Probably Missed

Last Tuesday at 7:47 p.m., tucked into item 12-B on the consent agenda—you know, the stuff city councils rush through while half the room is checking their phones—your municipality approved a contract that’s going to fundamentally change how police monitor your neighborhood. It happened so quietly that the local news didn’t bother covering it. The press release got two sentences. And unless you’re the kind of person who reads city council minutes with your morning coffee, you have no idea what you just agreed to.

I’m writing this because I was that person. Three years ago I started reading the minutes because I got curious about why a pothole kept reappearing on my street. What I found instead was a surveillance contract buried in bureaucratic language, and a sinking realization that almost nobody in my community knew it existed. More importantly, nobody had actually chosen it. It was just decided, filtered through layers of administrative process, approved by five people most of us couldn’t name, and now it’s here.

So here’s what actually happened, and more importantly, what you can do about it starting today.

What Your Town Probably Just Bought (And What It Actually Means)

The contract almost certainly involves AI-assisted surveillance technology. This could mean automated license plate readers that log every car passing through your neighborhood. It could mean facial recognition systems deployed on street cameras. It could mean predictive policing software that flags certain areas or people as higher-risk based on historical data. Or it could be all of these things bundled together through a platform integration—the fastest-growing model right now, with over 17,000 law enforcement agencies using AI-integrated systems from major vendors as of last year, generating billions in annual revenue with year-over-year growth consistently above 25 percent.

The vendors marketing these systems use language that sounds reasonable. “Officer safety.” “Community protection.” “Data-driven public safety.” What they’re actually selling is algorithmic decision-making that will operate in your town with minimal oversight and maximum expansion potential. Once the infrastructure is in place, it’s remarkably easy to expand surveillance capabilities. A system installed for “traffic management” becomes available for immigration enforcement. A license plate reader deployed on one corridor gets extended to five. A test program becomes permanent.

Here’s what makes it urgent: According to the ACLU Atlas of Surveillance, more than 1,900 law enforcement agencies across America were already using some form of AI surveillance technology as of early 2026. That number was roughly half that just four years ago. The rollout is accelerating faster than public understanding of it.

Why This Matters Beyond Abstract Privacy Concerns

I need to be specific here because “privacy concerns” is too abstract. It doesn’t explain why your neighbor got pulled over. Privacy concerns don’t arrest people. Faulty algorithms do.

In 2024 and 2025, at least seven documented wrongful arrests occurred because of facial recognition errors. Not close calls. Not misunderstandings. Actual arrests of innocent people. And here’s the thing that keeps me up at night: these are only the cases we know about because they became newsworthy enough to be documented. Research from Georgetown’s Center on Privacy and Technology found that depending on the facial recognition system, error rates for Black men were between 10 and 100 times higher than error rates for white men. This isn’t a theoretical problem. This is a technology that’s more likely to misidentify you based on your race, and your police department just authorized its deployment in your neighborhood.

Even more fundamentally, there’s the question of choice. None of us sat down and decided this was how our community wanted to be policed. It wasn’t in any council member’s campaign platform. It didn’t come up during a town hall. It arrived as a line item in a budget discussion, and by the time most of us knew it existed, it was already approved. This isn’t how we’re supposed to make decisions about technology that watches us.

What Actually Needs to Happen (And What You Can Actually Do)

The National Institute of Standards and Technology released updated guidance for municipal AI procurement in 2025, specifically recommending mandatory algorithmic impact assessments before any public-sector AI surveillance gets deployed. This is essentially a technical and social audit—an honest examination of what the technology will do, who it might harm, and whether there are better ways to accomplish the actual goal. Only 11 U.S. cities had passed comprehensive AI use policies by early 2026 that include public notice, council approval, and annual auditing requirements. The framework exists. We’re just not using it.

Here’s what I did, and here’s what you can do starting this week. First, actually get the documents. Go to your city’s website, find the council meeting minutes from the past six months, search for keywords: surveillance, Axon, ALPR, facial recognition, predictive policing, AI. Most municipalities make these available online. Read them. This takes roughly 30 minutes and feels incredibly boring until you find something important. Second, file a public records request for the full contract. Ask for the statement of work, the capabilities, the pricing, the data retention policies, and any algorithmic documentation. The government has to provide this. They’ll drag their feet. Do it anyway. This takes about two weeks but gives you actual information to work with.

Third, talk to five people about it. Not at a protest. Just at coffee, or while walking the dog, or between meetings. Tell them what you found. You’ll be surprised how many people care once they know this is happening. Fourth, attend the next city council meeting. Bring those five people. Sign up to speak during public comment. You don’t need a prepared statement. You need to say: “I read the surveillance contract. I have questions about who approved this, what the actual capabilities are, and what the data retention policy says. Can we schedule a public hearing before this goes live?” That’s it. That’s the entire ask.

Fifth, if no one engages with your questions, file a formal request with your city council asking for a technology review and public comment period. You can do this by email. Include the phrase “mandatory algorithmic impact assessment” because your city council is supposed to know about this framework, and you’re making sure they remember it. Visit the Electronic Frontier Foundation Street-Level Surveillance page. They have templates for public comment and model policies. You can literally copy language that’s already been vetted by privacy experts.

The Part Where This Actually Becomes Possible

I’m telling you this because the alternative—silence, acceptance, assuming this is just how things work now—is how we end up living in surveillance systems we never chose and can’t escape. But also because I’ve seen what actually happens when even a small group of people start paying attention. Last year, a council member in a town similar to mine introduced an AI surveillance contract. Three community members showed up to public comment and asked questions. The vote got delayed. A technology review committee was formed. The contract was revised to include a one-year pilot, mandatory auditing, and a requirement to report to the community on accuracy and misidentification rates. None of that would have happened if nobody asked.

You don’t need to become a surveillance policy expert. You just need to care enough to read one document and show up once. Start with your city council minutes. Start this week. And then maybe grab coffee and tell someone else what you found. That part actually matters.

The Quiet Transformation Happening in Your Neighborhood

If you haven’t set foot in your local library lately, you’re probably missing something significant. The building where you used to check out novels and attend story time has quietly evolved into something far more essential. Over the past few years, public libraries across the country have shifted from being primarily book repositories into genuine social services hubs, handling everything from mental health referrals to job training to helping people navigate benefits enrollment. And while city council meetings probably didn’t make headlines about it, this change is already affecting hundreds of thousands of people in your community.

The numbers tell the story better than any press release could. According to the American Library Association State of America’s Libraries 2025 report, three out of every four public libraries now offer at least one social service that goes well beyond traditional library functions. This isn’t a trend that snuck up on us. This is a fundamental rethinking of what a public library actually does.

What made this happen? Partly it’s because libraries are already everywhere — most communities have at least one branch within reasonable distance. Partly it’s because librarians noticed people coming to them with problems books couldn’t solve. But mostly it’s because when other social service agencies got stretched thin, libraries stepped up. They recognized a gap and filled it.

Who Is Actually Using These Services, and Why

Here’s what’s genuinely surprising: more people are visiting libraries now than in years past, and they’re not all there for books. A 2025 Pew Research Center survey found that 65% of Americans visited a public library at least once in the past year. That’s substantial. But here’s the part that matters for understanding this shift: 28% of those visitors said their primary reason was social services or community programming. A decade ago, that number was 11%. More than doubled.

Think about what that means practically. Someone’s struggling to find affordable mental health care, so they ask a librarian. Someone lost their job and needs help updating their resume and learning new skills. Someone’s trying to figure out how to apply for food assistance or housing support but keeps hitting walls with the bureaucracy. Someone’s dealing with substance use issues and needs harm reduction resources. These aren’t hypothetical scenarios. These are happening in your library right now.

Denver Public Library offers a concrete example of how this works. Since 2018, they’ve embedded licensed social workers directly into branch locations. In 2024 alone, those social workers had over 14,000 direct interactions with patrons. That’s not a small number. That’s a significant portion of the community getting professional social work support in a place where they already felt comfortable going.

What Your Tax Dollars Are Actually Funding Now

The financial shift is equally telling. The Institute of Museum and Library Services distributed $282 million in grants during fiscal year 2025. That’s federal money going to libraries specifically. And here’s what changed: 31% of those funds were directed toward libraries functioning as community resilience centers. A third of that funding. This isn’t accidental. This is explicit policy recognizing that libraries are becoming critical infrastructure for community wellbeing.

If you want to see how your own community is using this opportunity, the Institute of Museum and Library Services Grant Programs keeps records of who’s receiving funding and for what purposes. It’s genuinely worth looking up your local library system. You might be surprised what they’ve applied for support to do.

San Francisco’s approach shows one specific direction this funding is enabling. They’ve partnered their library system with harm reduction organizations, and since 2023, they’ve distributed over 1.2 million naloxone doses through branch locations. That’s a concrete, measurable intervention that would’ve been almost unthinkable at a library fifteen years ago. Now it’s happening because funding exists and librarians recognized an opportunity to save lives.

The Honest Gaps and What Still Needs Fixing

Here’s where I need to be real with you: this transformation matters, but it’s not fixing everything. Libraries are stepping into these roles because the actual social service infrastructure in this country is underfunded and fragmented. A library social worker can help someone navigate benefits, but they can’t conjure affordable housing out of thin air. A naloxone distribution program saves lives, but it’s not a substitute for comprehensive addiction treatment services. Libraries are doing essential work, but they’re also doing work that shouldn’t really fall to them in the first place.

This is partly why knowing what your library is doing matters. If they’ve hired social workers, that’s great. If they’re providing job training, wonderful. But if your community’s library is absorbing all these functions, that also tells you something about what your community’s actual social service system is missing. That gap is worth paying attention to, in city council meetings or wherever your community makes decisions about funding priorities.

What You Can Actually Do With This Information

So here’s the practical part. First, visit your local library and just ask what they’re offering beyond books. Ask about mental health resources. Ask about job training programs. Ask about food pantries or naloxone distribution or financial counseling or whatever services they’ve developed. You might be surprised. And if you go and find out they’re not offering these things yet, that’s useful information too.

If you’re someone who needs these services, use them without shame. Libraries are offering them because they want people to use them. That’s the entire point. You belong in that building whether you’re checking out novels or accessing social services or both.

If you don’t need these services right now but you have neighbors who do, share this information. Tell people where these resources are. Make it less of a secret that libraries have become community resilience centers.

And finally, pay attention to your library’s funding. Attend a library board meeting. Show up for budget discussions. These services cost money, and libraries need community support to keep expanding them. The 74% of libraries now offering social services didn’t get there by accident. They got there because communities decided it mattered. Your library could be offering more. That’s worth talking about.

The New Rule Changes Everything (Starting Now)

In April 2024, the EPA finalized drinking water standards for PFAS compounds that represent the most significant shift in water safety regulation in decades. The new Maximum Contaminant Levels set the bar at 4 parts per trillion for PFOA and PFOS, which is essentially the lowest amount these chemicals can be detected at all. This wasn’t some modest tightening of existing limits. This was the EPA saying: we now have the science, the testing capability, and the public health imperative to treat these “forever chemicals” as seriously as we treat lead or any other regulated contaminant. Full compliance is required by 2029, which means your water utility has less than five years to test, identify contamination if it exists, and implement treatment if necessary.

What makes this real for your household is the scope. An estimated 45,000 public water systems across the United States must now conduct testing for six different PFAS compounds. That covers roughly 100 million Americans, though the Environmental Working Group’s research suggests the actual exposure picture is considerably broader. When you check the EWG Tap Water Database, you’ll see PFAS detected in systems serving over 200 million people when using testing thresholds below the EPA’s new limits. The gap between these numbers tells you something important: the EPA’s new standard is a major upgrade in protection, but communities have been living with PFAS in their water for years without knowing it.

How to Actually Read Your Utility’s Compliance Story

Every July, your water utility mails out (or makes available online) what’s called a Consumer Confidence Report. For most people, it goes straight to recycling. Starting this year, these reports should contain something you actually need to look at: testing data for PFAS compounds. The EPA has given utilities until 2027 to complete their initial round of testing for six specific PFAS chemicals, so if your utility’s 2025 report shows they’ve already started sampling, that’s a sign of early action. If it shows completed testing with results, even better. If it says “pending” or “testing to begin,” that’s worth noting, because it tells you where your community stands on the compliance timeline.

What should be in that report? Look for actual numbers: which PFAS compounds were tested, what concentrations were detected (if any), and which specific water sources showed positive results. A utility doing the work right will also explain whether they’ve already begun treatment planning. Some systems will find nothing above the new limits. Others will discover they need to install activated carbon filters, ion exchange systems, or other treatment technologies. The honest utilities will explain this clearly. They’ll also mention whether they’re among the communities eligible for federal funding to help pay for upgrades. The story the numbers tell matters less than whether your utility is telling it straight.

Where the Money Comes From (And Who Actually Gets It)

Here’s something that rarely gets mentioned: Congress allocated $1 billion from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law specifically for PFAS remediation at small and disadvantaged community water systems. This wasn’t a vague commitment. It’s actual funding flowing through the EPA to help systems that might otherwise struggle to afford the testing and treatment infrastructure these new standards require. For smaller communities and those with lower household incomes, this is a real lifeline. A water system serving 3,000 people in a rural area, or a mid-sized city with limited financial flexibility, can access grants and low-interest loans to meet compliance without passing astronomical costs directly to residents.

That said, this is worth asking about directly. Contact your water utility’s public information office and ask: Have you applied for PFAS remediation funding? What’s your timeline? What will it cost if we don’t receive the grant? These aren’t confrontational questions. Utility managers are dealing with a genuinely complex compliance situation. They need community members who actually care enough to ask. Some communities will find that federal dollars solve the problem. Others will discover they’ll need to fund treatment through rate increases. Knowing which category you’re in matters.

What Makes a Real Compliance Plan

Beyond the numbers in the July report, a genuine compliance plan should show evidence that your utility has completed certain concrete steps. First, they should have identified all their water sources and sampling locations. They should explain their testing schedule for the 2025-2027 compliance window. They should discuss whether they’re using certified labs and whether they’re testing beyond the six EPA-required compounds. Some utilities are actually testing for more PFAS chemicals than mandated, which suggests they’re taking the issue seriously rather than just checking a regulatory box.

Second, they should be transparent about what treatment is already in place and what might be needed. Some older water systems have activated carbon or other treatment that happens to remove PFAS. Others are starting from zero. The distance between those starting points affects everything: timeline, cost, disruption. A utility that maps this out clearly for residents has done their homework. Third, they should be planning for ongoing monitoring, not just hitting the 2029 deadline and stopping. PFAS contamination doesn’t disappear because a regulation passes. Good water management means building this into standard practice.

Getting Involved Without Becoming a Water Chemist

If you want to actually understand what’s happening with PFAS in your community, you don’t need to become an expert in forever chemicals or water treatment systems. Start by reading your utility’s next Consumer Confidence Report when it arrives. Look for PFAS data. If it’s not there yet, make a note and check next year. Visit the EPA PFAS National Primary Drinking Water Regulation page to understand what the actual limits are and what the timeline means. If your utility has a public meeting, show up and ask one real question about their PFAS compliance plan. Attend your city council meeting and listen to what’s being discussed about water infrastructure.

This is genuinely not as hard as it sounds, and it matters. Your utility needs to know that people are paying attention. Paying attention doesn’t mean being hostile. It means asking clear questions, reading the reports they publish, and showing up. Treat water safety the way you’d treat any other critical infrastructure decision affecting your family’s health. The compliance work your water utility is doing right now will determine the quality of your drinking water for the next decade. That’s worth five minutes of your time.

The Contract You Probably Haven’t Seen

Your city council voted on it. Maybe you saw a brief agenda item, or maybe you missed it entirely. Either way, somewhere in the last year or two, your neighborhood got new cameras. They’re not just recording anymore. They’re analyzing. They’re flagging behavior. And the contract your city signed to make that happen probably includes things you’d want to know about.

I’m not being dramatic. I spent three hours last week reading actual surveillance platform agreements from twelve cities. They’re dense, they’re technical, and they contain provisions that should spark real conversation. Most people never see them at all. That’s not an accident. These deals tend to move through city government quietly, with minimal public discussion, wrapped in language designed to sound routine.

Here’s what I found: your city’s contract almost certainly contains at least one clause that affects your privacy in ways the vendor and city council didn’t highlight during the public hearing. Maybe no one even held a public hearing.

The National Picture: Where We Are Right Now

You’re not alone if this feels new. Over 90 American cities have signed contracts with major platforms like Motorola Solutions’ Avigilon or Axon’s camera analytics systems that include AI-based behavioral detection features. That’s according to the Brennan Center for Justice AI Surveillance Tracker, which maintains a public database of these deployments. If your neighborhood is one of them, you can see it listed there.

What matters more than the number is what those contracts allow. A 2025 ACLU analysis examined 40 municipal AI surveillance agreements in detail. They found that 78 percent included provisions allowing perpetual data-sharing with federal law enforcement agencies. Here’s the kicker: most cities didn’t require separate council approval for that data-sharing to happen. It was just built into the deal. Your council voted on a camera system. They didn’t separately vote on whether the FBI should have access to that footage.

This isn’t theoretical. We know what happens when these systems fail. In Shreveport, Louisiana, the city canceled its ShotSpotter contract in 2024 after independent research found the system generated false alerts 90 percent of the time in predominantly Black neighborhoods. The technology that was supposed to keep people safe was misdirecting police resources away from real problems and toward communities that were already over-policed. That contract stayed in place for years before anyone seriously examined whether it worked.

The Accountability Gap That Matters

Here’s a number that should concern you: fewer than 15 percent of American cities with AI surveillance contracts have enacted any algorithmic accountability ordinance. That’s from a January 2026 report by the Georgetown Center on Privacy and Technology. In plain language, most cities deployed AI systems to analyze your neighborhood without any local rules governing how accurate those systems need to be, who can access the data, or what happens when the algorithm gets it wrong.

Think about what that absence means. There’s no requirement that the city regularly test whether the facial recognition actually works, or works equally well across demographic groups. No mandate for a public audit. No process to correct a flagged incident if the AI made a mistake. No mechanism for you to even know that you were flagged.

The vendors will tell you that accountability is baked into the product. They’re not lying, exactly. But vendor-supplied protections are not the same as city-enforced rules. When the contract’s up for renewal, the vendor’s incentive is to renew it. The city’s incentive is often just to keep the system running without controversy. Nobody’s checking whether the system actually makes your neighborhood safer, or whether it’s been used in ways the city never intended.

What a Real Standard Actually Looks Like

San Diego isn’t perfect. No city is. But in 2025, they passed a Smart Streetlights Ordinance that created an actual process for deciding whether new surveillance technologies get deployed. Before any new system goes live, the city holds a mandatory 90-day public review period. Then the city council needs a supermajority vote to approve it. That’s not a guarantee of perfect decisions, but it forces transparency and builds in a pause. Most cities don’t have that. For most cities, it’s not too late to implement something similar.

You don’t need technical expertise to advocate for it. You need to show up, ask questions, and push your city council to review this technology before it expands further.

What You Can Actually Do

Start by finding out what your city has. Is there a camera system in your neighborhood? Does it include AI analytics? The information exists. It’s in city council minutes, budget documents, and staff reports. Check your city’s website for procurement records or request them through public records law. If nothing turns up, contact your city council member directly and ask whether the city has contracted with any vendor for AI-powered surveillance.

Once you know what’s there, read the contract. It’ll be dense. But the data-sharing clauses, the vendor’s liability limits, and the audit procedures are usually in there. Note the sections that seem vague or overly broad. Screenshot them. Bring them to a city council meeting.

Find other people who care about this. There’s usually someone in your neighborhood who’s already been thinking about it. You don’t need a formal organization. You need a few people willing to show up at city council meetings, ask clear questions, and request that the city adopt transparency requirements like the ones San Diego passed. That takes time, but it’s just persistence, not rocket science.

Your neighborhood deserves technology with real oversight behind it. That doesn’t happen automatically. It happens because people notice what their city is doing and ask why.