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Features AUGUST 27, 2019

Women Firsts in San Diego

16 women get candid about getting there first in their field

Women Firsts in San Diego
Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Bill Stafford – NASA – JSC

Ellen Ochoa

First Hispanic woman in space

How many women alive today can say there’s a school named after them—let alone six? Yet children around the US are attending classes at places like Ellen Ochoa Elementary (Tulsa, Oklahoma) and Ellen Ochoa Middle School (Pasco, Washington).

Ellen Ochoa was 11 years old when astronauts first landed on the moon. “It was thrilling,” she says. “But women weren’t allowed to be astronauts at the time. I don’t think I had enough of an imagination to realize that would be a possibility in the future.” Not even after she graduated from Grossmont High School or went to San Diego State University did she dream of it. At SDSU she considered majoring in music or business. But she excelled in math, which led her to physics. Ochoa went on to get a PhD in electrical engineering from Stanford.

In 1990, she was one of five women NASA selected to go to space. (In the last two astronaut classes at NASA, one was fifty percent women, the other close to fifty.) “I wasn’t actually scared at all, other than wanting to make sure I was doing a good job. You’re very busy during these flights, going from one procedure to the next, and they require 100 percent of your concentration.” In fact, the missions require so much focus and mental energy that the luxury to take it all in doesn’t come until bedtime. “That was an amazing time, because you just had the opportunity to look at the Earth as you were going around. That’s always astronauts’ favorite activity that they just don’t get tired of doing.”

Ochoa has flown on four missions, totaling about 978 hours or 41 days. On the first two she studied the Earth’s atmosphere and the hole in the ozone layer; she also deployed and retrieved research satellites. On the third and fourth missions, she served as the flight engineer. “I worked closely with the commander and pilot during the dynamic phases of the flight, like launch, rendezvous, undocking, and landing.” She helped assemble the International Space Station, transferring supplies, attaching a 42-foot-long piece of the truss structure, and supporting space walks. By her third flight, she had a one-year-old at home; by her fourth, two toddlers.

Ochoa saw some women at NASA in the early days of her 30-year career there, but not in leadership roles. Eventually that changed, and she went on to become the 11th director of the Johnson Space Center in Houston—the first Hispanic director and second female director. “You want to hire a diverse group of people and make sure you’re seeing them throughout the entire organization. It’s not only the right thing to do, but, for NASA, it really affects safety as well because we need everybody to feel like they’re going to be valued, like they’re going to be heard.”

Currently living in Idaho, Ochoa travels the country for speaking engagements and board meetings. She’s the vice chair of the National Science Board, which sets the policy for the National Science Foundation; she sits on corporate boards in New York and Texas, and a family foundation board in California.

“We don’t have enough women yet in science and engineering fields. I would say we need your brains. We want you and need you in these kinds of fields.” —Erin Meanley Glenny

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Photo by Nate Hoffman

Susan Brown Snook

First female bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego

When Susan Brown Snook first graduated from college, she never would’ve predicted that her résumé would one day include the titles “reverend” and “bishop.” She earned a bachelor’s in managerial studies and later an MBA in accounting from Rice University, and spent 10 years working as a certified public accountant.

But something shifted in her when she moved from Houston to Phoenix with her family. She’d just had her second child and decided not to return to work right away, and she started volunteering at a local Episcopal church. She’d been successful as a CPA, “but toward the end of that time, I started to feel that there was something missing, a deeper meaning and purpose to life,” Brown Snook says.

Through that volunteer work, she found the purpose and meaning she’d been looking for and became her church’s director of Christian education. Two years later, the Episcopal bishop of Arizona sent her to seminary, where she earned a master’s in divinity. After becoming an ordained priest, Brown Snook served in the dioceses of Arizona and Oklahoma for 11 years, before being elected bishop of the diocese of San Diego. She was ordained and consecrated as bishop at St. Paul’s Episcopal Cathedral in Bankers Hill this June.

“It feels somewhat improbable. Fifteen years ago, San Diego was known as a very conservative diocese, which ordained very few women as priests. Now they’ve elected a woman bishop.” Brown Snook is the first woman to lead the church in San Diego in its 45-year history. The diocese makes up 15,000 church members across 43 congregations in Southern California. —Marie Tutko

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Photo by Ben Krain

Pierrette Van Cleve

First woman to own an online business

These days, there are countless ways to purchase fine art online. But in 1994 there was only one: Art Cellar Exchange. “It was only two pages when it was launched, but that was a revolution in 1994,” says Pierrette Van Cleve, the founder and president.

An early adopter of technology (she worked on a 45-pound Zenith “laptop” in the ’80s), Van Cleve had a life-changing experience at a conference called Cyberfest in 1989. At the time, she was the owner of a newsprint magazine called Art Cellar Exchange, where collectors could buy and sell fine art. While attending Cyberfest, she learned about “this new thing called the internet” and met pioneers in the field. A few years later, the connections she made there paid off when the groundbreaking digital artist Donna Cox and the developers of Mac Web asked if they could design a website for Art Cellar Exchange as a prototype to showcase their new graphic capabilities. Van Cleve said yes, and artcellarex.com was born. (“That was the maximum length of characters you could have in a URL.”)

It worked. “Our first month, we sold a $60,000 work of art to a tech guy in Germany,” she says. “The game was on.” Two years later, the website was such a hit they dropped the print edition entirely. —Angela Ashman

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Photo courtesy of Vans

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Anthony Acosta

Lizzie Armanto

First female skateboarder to complete Tony Hawk’s “Loop”

The 26-year-old Oceanside resident was the first woman ever to grace the covers of both TransWorld Skateboarding and Thrasher magazine, in 2016 and 2017 respectively, but those photo shoots are peanuts compared to her accomplishment last year: becoming the first woman to successfully complete Tony Hawk’s dangerous vertical loop.

The challenge starts with a launch ramp that propels a skater into a 360-degree loop with a short exit track. In order to not fall and risk serious injury, a skateboarder has to balance momentum and control to go completely upside down and emerge upright.

“There’s no real way to prepare,” Armanto says. “It’s counterintuitive, so you have to unlearn everything that skateboarding has taught you.”

She landed the trick on August 26, 2018, and what followed was a well-deserved shower of contest winnings, sponsorships, and respect—both for her and for women’s skateboarding in general.

Another turning point came last year when the Vans Park Series and other major contests started awarding equal prize money to men and women. “It’s all happened so quickly that I sometimes feel like the carpet will get pulled out from under me,” Armanto says. But that hasn’t stopped her from pursuing another “first.”

Originally from Santa Monica and now a dual citizen of the US and Finland, Armanto has her sights set on summer 2020, when skateboarding will make its Olympic debut.

She’s hoping to qualify and represent Finland in the Games to free up a spot on the US team. With many more pro skateboarders here compared to other nations, Armanto says her choice means that “at least one more deserving female” will go to Tokyo. Spoken like a team player. —Carey Blakely

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Irma Elsa Gonzalez

First female Mexican American federal judge

Irma Elsa Gonzalez has been a first three times over in the legal world. She was the first Hispanic magistrate judge to be appointed to the US District Court for the Southern District of California, and the first Hispanic woman appointed to the San Diego Superior Court. When former President George H. W. Bush nominated her to our US District Court in 1992 (and called her directly at work to deliver the news that she was confirmed by the Senate), she became the first Mexican American woman to serve as a federal judge. That year, there were only 35 federal judges on the bench who were of Hispanic descent (1,007 judges were white).

“Positions of power were very rare for women in the legal market, and still are, especially for women of color,” she says. In fact, six district courts around the country have never had a female judge. “Things have changed, especially in California. On the federal side, it’s still lagging.

“We should be representing the community in which we live. So therefore, we are still behind in being appointed, especially on the bench.”

Gonzalez was chief judge of the court from 2005 until her retirement in 2013.

“I’m proud to be a ‘first.’ I’m very proud of my heritage. Maybe I was a token—the token woman or the token Mexican American—but I think I’ve proved that I was competent and did a good job.” —MT

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Toni Atkins

First woman—and first member of the LGBTQ community—to serve as California state Senate president pro tempore; first speaker of the state Assembly from San Diego

“I grew up in Appalachia in a blue-collar, working-class family. I saw my parents work harder than anyone else and still struggle. No health care, no sick days, no running water, sometimes no electricity. By the time I was able to get to college on a scholarship and Pell Grants, I had a lot of anger about life’s inequities. But one of my early mentors helped me understand that it was important to channel that anger into action.

“I’ve worked many jobs; as restaurant waitstaff, a dry cleaner, a hotel housekeeper, in a dress factory, a frame factory, pumping gas. In all that time, I never gave up on my dream to be a part of something bigger—something that could make quality of life better, easier, and fairer for people like my parents and all those wonderful working people I shared jobs with.

“Given my humble beginnings, and as a woman and a member of the LGBTQ community, to be the only individual in the 169 years of California history to have led both the Assembly and the Senate means that the California dream—the American dream—is real.”

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Photo by Nate Hoffman

Susan Tousi

First San Diego woman to lead product development at a $47 billion company

Last year, Susan Tousi received one of the nation’s highest honors for an engineer: She was inducted into the National Academy of Engineering. Jeff Bezos was in her class of 83 members, 19 of whom were women.

The chatter at the induction was all about attracting girls to STEM. “Girls are inspired by wanting to help people, wanting to change the world, to make lives better for their friends, their families, their loved ones—they’re not inspired by power or blowing things up,” Tousi says. “We need to talk about engineering and STEM differently.”

Tousi, who is Illumina’s senior vice president of product development, never considered engineering until a teacher took her aside. “That was the ‘aha!’ moment for me, that science and engineering could make lives better, which is why Illumina really resonates with me. Our entire mission is about improving human health by unlocking the power of the genome.”

Today, Tousi is a trustee of La Jolla Playhouse and an advisory council member for the Fleet Science Center. She also mentors women.

“I run a Lean In Circle with our top women across R&D at Illumina. What surprises me the most is that they still have a confidence issue, compared to a lot of their male peers.

“In meetings, I look around the room for other women who I know have something to offer on a subject, and I make an opportunity for them to speak. A lot of times, when they say something, it’s brushed over until a male counterpart says it later in the meeting, and I’ll point out, ‘That’s exactly what so-and-so said earlier. I’m so glad we got the point now.’” —EMG

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Lynn Schenk

First woman elected to Congress south of Los Angeles

As a young law student at the University of San Diego in the late 1960s, Lynn Schenk learned quickly that she wasn’t welcome in the male-dominated field. “My property professor said to me, ‘Miss Schenk, what are you doing in this class, taking up the space of a man? Why don’t you go learn to fix a toaster or a dishwasher, so later in life you can save your husband money and fix these things yourself?’”

“All of that just makes you more resilient,” she says. The daughter of a Holocaust survivor, Schenk tirelessly battled for equal rights throughout her career. In the 1970s, she founded the Women’s Bank to help women gain financial independence from men. “If you wanted to have a little business, you needed to have a line of credit from the bank,” she says. “But you could not get it without a male cosigner. So a group of us said, well, the heck with them!”

In the ’80s, she became the first woman to hold the position of secretary of the California Business, Transportation and Housing Agency. And in the ’90s, she became the first woman elected to Congress south of Los Angeles, as well as the first woman to be chief of staff to a California governor (Gray Davis). One thing she’s especially proud of: “When I had the opportunity to hire bright women, I always did.”

Another proud achievement was the time in 1971 when she and two female friends (including Justice Judith McConnell) demanded to be seated at the Grant Grill in downtown San Diego, where a sign declared “Men Only” from noon to three. When the maître d’ finally escorted them to a table, the men in the dining room booed. “You can put up with a lot,” she says, “but ridicule, derisive laughter, booing—that hurts.” As further proof of her grit, she returned three more times, until the sign finally came down. —AA

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Photo by Jenny Siegwart

Denise Mueller-Korenek

First person to surpass 167 mph on a bicycle

Ask Denise Mueller-Korenek­, who set the record last year for the world’s fastest person on a paced bicycle, what it feels like to go 183.9 miles per hour on a bike behind a roaring dragster, and it’s difficult for her to recall. “I am so hyper-focused at that speed because things are happening so quickly,” she says.

That feat, which she accomplished last September at the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, seems all the more impressive when you learn that Mueller-Korenek, a mother of three grown sons, was 45 when she did it.

After a successful career as a junior cyclist, she quit racing at age 19 to join the family business, Rancho Santa Fe Security Systems, of which she is now the CEO. Then, in 2012, her former coach convinced her to participate in the Million Dollar Challenge, a 620-mile bike ride from Palo Alto to San Diego for the Challenged Athletes Foundation. “My coach saw there was something still there—that spark,” she says. Upon learning that no woman had ever attempted to break the paced bicycle land speed record of 167 miles per hour, she began four intense years of training. In 2016, she set the record of 147.7 miles per hour for women, and then returned in 2018 for what she calls “a death-defying ride” to break the men’s record.

“I’m an adrenaline junkie,” says Mueller-Korenek, whose own mother jumped out of an airplane at age 84. “I didn’t even think about any potential issues with safety.”

This month, she’s headed to Nevada to see if she can beat the women’s speed record of 75.69 miles per hour on an unpaced bicycle (which means there will be no motor-pacing car in front to shield her from the wind). What makes her so courageous? “You just go. If a man was able to do it and survive, I know I’m going to be able to do it.” —AA

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Shelley Zimmerman

First female police chief of San Diego

In 2014, when Shelley Zimmerman took over as the first female police chief of San Diego, the SDPD was in turmoil. Officers were leaving due to low pay and the department was in the news for a sexual misconduct scandal. To encourage change, Zimmerman put a sign on her desk: “Bad news welcomed here.”

“As a leader, never bite off the head that brings you the bad news,” she says. “They’ll never tell you another thing. Instead, welcome them, thank them for it, and then try to figure out how to make things better together.”

And fix things she did. Some of her many achievements include deploying body cameras for all officers (making San Diego the largest city at the time to do so) and successfully advocating for pay raises for the officers. In a study done by the FBI, San Diego was the safest big city in the country during her last full year as chief. But don’t try to give her all the credit. “We did it together,” the 35-year department veteran insists.

Zimmerman, who had to leave the agency in 2018 due to a retirement plan she signed up for a year before becoming chief, says one of the things she enjoyed most was being a role model for girls. “I’ll tell you, probably more fathers than mothers would come up to me with their young daughters and say, ‘Honey, this is the chief of police. It just goes to prove you can do anything you want in the world.’ And then I would add, ‘Yes, you can—but you’ve got to be willing to work hard.’” —AA

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Priya Bhat-Patel

First Indian American City Council Member in San Diego County

When Priya Bhat-Patel announced her run for Carlsbad’s city council last year, the odds were against her. She was a 30-year-old health care consultant who identified as a progressive in a community that traditionally votes conservative. She was also earning her doctorate in public health.

Bhat-Patel ran the show by herself and didn’t hire staff or a manager until the last month of the campaign. Just two weeks before the election, she defended her dissertation on public policies regarding sugar-sweetened beverages.

Against those odds, she was elected—and became the first Indian American city council member in San Diego County.

In January, her colleagues designated her mayor pro tempore and elected her to the North County Transit District board of directors.

Bhat-Patel, who grew up in Carlsbad as the daughter of immigrant parents from India, says her election is indicative of how the coastal city is changing.

“Being South Asian, and an Asian American in general, and a woman, to have broken that barrier… I’m super excited to represent a diverse point of view—and a different one than other politicians may have.

“So many people told me during this run that I couldn’t do it. I hope that me being elected brings to light that if there isn’t a seat at the table for you, you can create that space.” —MT

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Judi Sheppard Missett

First female founder and CEO of a $100 million global fitness franchise

“I was dancing professionally and teaching at Gus Giordano Jazz Dance Chicago [before moving to San Diego in 1971]. I noticed that during children’s classes, the moms would hang out in the studio. I decided to offer a class to the moms. People came to class at first, but attendance dropped kind of quickly. Sucking up my pride, I called a couple of the ladies and asked why they didn’t come back. They said things like, ‘Well, your class is too hard!’ and ‘I don’t want to be a professional dancer—I just want to look like one.’ After that, I turned the students away from the mirror and had them mirror me, so they could focus on having fun instead of doing every dance move perfectly. Ultimately, Jazzercise came from teaching a dance class that didn’t go very well at first, but it soon blossomed into something better—and bigger [8,500 franchises in 25 countries]—than I could have imagined.”

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Megan Yelenosky

First woman Advanced Sommelier in San Diego

Megan Yelenosky doesn’t technically have a nose for wine—she has chronic sinusitis—but that’s never stopped her from becoming a sommelier, and an advanced one at that. The director of banquets at Hilton San Diego Bayfront originally went to culinary school, but a restaurant boss told her she talked too much and would never make it in the kitchen. “He was right. I am a social person. I struggled.”

He suggested she try a front-of-house position. And it was there, while managing Ajax Tavern in Aspen’s Little Nell Hotel, that she got her first exposure to good wines. Guests brought in beautiful vintages and let her taste them.

Yelenosky says it would have taken her years to see that kind of wine outside of an upscale restaurant—and even then, she never would’ve been able to go out and buy them—so being in her position was key. She never saw many female servers in fine dining restaurants, and believes this is why fewer women were studying wine.

In 2000, she moved from Aspen to San Diego with her husband, a La Jolla High alum. “At that point, San Diego wasn’t the culinary hot spot it is now, so you were a ‘shmanager’—a sommelier/manager. Addison hadn’t opened yet.”

Not only were salaried positions like sommelier or wine director a rare luxury, so were certifications. Court of Master Sommelier tests are an incredible mental feat—requiring memorization of not just facts, but smells and tastes. For example, in a blind tasting, candidates must identify the wine’s varietal, its origin, its quality level, and its vintage. The test also covers wine service, decanting, food pairing, and recommending and pricing bottles. And it’s not just wine; it’s Champagne, spirits, and—when she first started taking the advanced course—cigars.

She took the Advanced Sommelier Certificate test three times. You must pass all three portions in the same attempt—one year she didn’t pass theory; the next year it was tasting.

On May 1, 2009, she finally passed. “It was a relief, because the first time I failed at this test was the first time I failed at anything that I ever wanted.”

Not only was she the first woman in San Diego to earn the Advanced Sommelier Certificate, but there were years when she carried the most wine certifications from any organization, as well. She went on to attempt the Master’s test three times, but has since stopped to have children. “The test will always be there. You don’t get a do-over with your kids,” she says. “But now that my twins are five, I can start putting in the time to study.” Cheers to that. —EMG

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

JENNIFERSIEGWART

Lt. Maureen Hodges

First woman marine safety lieutenant of San Diego

“I returned to lifeguarding in San Diego after having moved to Australia with my Australian husband. I’d been gone for four and a half years, so they had me go through the San Diego Advanced Academy [10-week formal training for lifeguards] again. I had a two-year-old son and was still breastfeeding my seven-month-old, so I’d have to pop out of the academy and go somewhere and pump twice a day. I was in the academy with a lot of people in their early to mid-20s. I was definitely in the minority, and I think a lot of them at first were like, ‘What are you doing? Breastfeeding? We don’t want to know about that. She said “breast.”’ But they were all very supportive, especially as I got to know them. It was definitely a huge challenge to go through the academy [after having a baby and moving from overseas six days prior to starting]. It was an El Niño year; the surf was giant every day and I was seven months postpartum. It was probably the hardest time in my personal life to do it, but I look back and think, If I can do that, I can do anything. And it shows other women that we can do this job and be moms.”

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Toni Anderson

First person to be awarded back child support, 50 years after her divorce

Toni Anderson’s world was turned upside down the day her husband walked out on her and her two-year-old daughter. “He left me a stereo and $62,” she says. In 1970, a judge ordered him to pay child support until their daughter turned 21. After his first check to Anderson bounced, he fled to Canada with his girlfriend.

To make ends meet, Anderson worked long hours as an interior designer, “living paycheck to paycheck,” she says. “The worst thing was what it did to my daughter—because the children suffer. My daughter is 53 and she still suffers. She feels abandoned. He never did a thing—no birthday cards, no Christmas, nothing.”

Fast forward nearly 50 years later, and through a Google search, Anderson learned that her ex was living a seemingly successful life in Oregon. Because California has no statute of limitations on child support, Anderson had a case. “I was fearful,” she says. “I thought, no, no, I can’t go after him.” But she did, and won: The judge awarded her $150,000, which included back child support with interest. “He was so silly,” the 74-year-old Carlsbad resident says. “If he had paid when he was supposed to, it would have been only $39,000.” Her hope is that her success will empower other parents to fight for what they’re owed. “Take a stand for what’s rightfully yours,” she says. “And don’t be afraid.” —AA

Women Firsts in San Diego

Women Firsts in San Diego

Photo by Ted Walton

Diane Powers

Founder of Old Town’s first Cinco de Mayo festival

When out-of-town friends visit San Diego for the first time, taking them for a stroll through Old Town’s Bazaar del Mundo and over to Casa Guadalajara for a fishbowl-size margarita is one of the de rigueur activities. You can thank Diane Powers for these memories, since she developed the marketplace back in 1971—it was once the most successful concession in the California State Park system—and fought to keep it alive even when she lost the lease at its original location in Old Town State Park in 2005. Powers is a restaurant maven, owning four iconic Mexican restaurants around the county (including the flagship Casa Guadalajara), but her biggest achievement may be the founding of Fiesta Old Town Cinco de Mayo over 30 years ago. It was the city’s first official celebration of the holiday, and today the event draws more than 100,000 people to the historic neighborhood.

“The idea to open Bazaar del Mundo came to me after I had just gotten back from traveling through Mexico and Central America,” she says. “I saw an article in the newspaper that the state parks department was requesting concepts and presentations for a remodel of the old Casa de Pico motel and portions of the historic park in Old Town. Given my background and passion for Latin American culture, I went ahead and presented them with my vision to bring a marketplace, restaurant, and entertainment venue to Old Town. During this time, it was more common for men to own businesses than women. However, I was ambitious, I had a vision, I believed in myself—and it didn’t matter. —MT

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Arts & Culture SEPTEMBER 4, 2026

What’s Next for Arts and Culture in San Diego?

Artists and advocates are building a more sustainable creative future through public funding, political organization, and cross-border collaboration

What’s Next for Arts and Culture in San Diego?
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

This is part of a three-part series. This is Act III. See Act I and Act II here.

The Future

We’ve been here before.

In 2012, city funding for the arts and culture in San Diego had eroded. As a corrective, the city council unanimously approved “Penny for the Arts”—a promise to dedicate roughly one penny of every dollar spent on hotel rooms (the Transient Occupancy Tax, or TOT).

The logic was fair and sound: Cultural institutions and events help attract visitors. Those visitors pay hotel taxes. So, the people agreed, some of that hotel-tax revenue should go back into maintaining the cultural ecosystem that helps bring those visitors and that money.

Projected as a five-year plan, the measure was supposed to increase funding to $17.9 million by 2017.

It never did. The penny was never guaranteed, so each year the city used part of it for other priorities. By 2023, the money going to arts and culture was up to about a half a penny. Even as TOT revenue has gone up significantly.

In 2019, TOT revenue was $245 million.

In 2025: $325 million.

One fix would be to guarantee the penny. Not simple, given San Diego’s financial woes. But the alternative—eroding the culture that makes San Diego San Diego, give it its identity—also doesn’t feel wise. Plus, even a locked percentage still rises and falls with tourism, which is why culture advocates want a guaranteed floor on top of it.

Another solution would be to give the arts commission actual authority.

“It’s an advisory body,” says arts commissioner Kamaal Martin. “You’d be hard-pressed to find anybody who takes our advice.”

Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

He described the commissioners debating real, consequential questions this year, like whether and how to divide the cuts between funding pools. But those conversations “don’t connect to whoever’s actually deciding,” Martin says. “We haven’t been entrusted with decision-making about relevant things nearly enough.”

Christine Martinez is building political infrastructure through her organization Arts+Culture:San Diego—which is starting a 501(c)(4) lobbying structure not unlike police and fire unions. Martinez is also keeping her community actively engaged. “We won’t be caught off guard next year like we were this year,” she tells me.

Then there’s the evergreen issue of affordability and accessibility. Kiplinger’s most recent report ranks San Diego as the 11th most expensive city in the US, based on cost of living. The average home value is $980,700 (the US median is $540,000), but San Diego’s median household income is only one-third greater than the national level. Rent is also 66 percent higher than the national average ($2,716 vs. $1,636).

This is why San Diego has long suffered from the creative brain drain—creatives leaving for more affordable cities. “Artists are free to live wherever they want, and they will go where the rent is affordable,” says Jennifer de Poyen of Space 4 Art. “When they leave, they take their gifts with them, and their contributions, and their economic impact.”

One saving grace is the presence of Tijuana, where the cost of living is about 60 percent lower than San Diego, per Numbeo. Tijuana has long functioned as an affordable neighborhood for many in San Diego’s creative culture. It’s part of the reason why the binational identity is such a constant in our galleries, music, theater, murals, and culture. While that cross-border blood flow is one of San Diego’s most compelling attributes, few artists living that life would call it convenient or easy. A city is at a disadvantage when its culture creators have to cross a border to go home at night, and cross again the next morning to work.

In May, San Diego County Board of Supervisors approved a $2.75 million arts initiative of its own. It includes an Artist Space Grant Program aimed directly at the affordability crisis, as well as an artist-in-residence program, a dedicated Binational Creative Economy Investment, and a one-time investment in the Black Arts and Culture District in Encanto.

Bob Lehman of San Diego Art Matters has been doing county-level, binational organizing for years; in 2023, he helped get the county’s arts commission reestablished after 30 years of defunctness. That’s important because it gives arts and culture an official seat in county government, advising the County Board of Supervisors on arts and culture policy. He also brought in consultant Laura Zucker, who ran LA County’s arts program for three decades, to build a real regional plan.

“I really believe we’ll have something set up here that other communities come and look at,” he told me. “A national template other cities come to learn from.”

When asked who decides which artists will get the new grant money, county arts commissioner and executive director of the Chicano Park Museum and Cultural Center Monica Delgadillo Hernandez doesn’t hedge.

“That’s part of the infrastructure we’re going to be building,” she says. “What should a panel of reviewers look like? Should it be the commissioners? Should it be other folks? A supervisor?” She was just as candid that the commission itself doesn’t reflect San Diego’s population—Chicano communities are roughly a third of the city, she tells me, “and that’s not represented at the table yet.”

Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

What Other Cities Prove Is Possible

The great news is that none of these solutions have to be invented from scratch. Numerous cities serve as examples of what’s possible—if we have the will.

Jonathon Glus—Prebys Foundation Senior Fellow for Art & Design, the Executive Director of the Art + Design District, and board president for California for the Arts—worked in Houston before coming to San Diego. The Texas city dedicates 74.5 percent of its hotel tax to arts grants by formula, and that support is guaranteed. Washington, DC locked in dedicated arts funding in 2019. Salt Lake City, my hometown, has run a voter-approved arts tax for almost 30 years, most recently reauthorized through 2034. And just this summer, New York City pushed cultural funding to a record $323.8 million, even incorporating an emergency fund.

Denver’s model is interesting because instead of a city-dependent funding model, theirs is a 0.1 percent regional sales tax. In place since 1988 and renewed by voters three times, their Scientific & Cultural Facilities District has distributed between $54 million and $85 million to arts, culture, and scientific orgs—each of the last 12 years.

This is part of a three-part series. This is Act III. See Act I and Act II here.

None of these cities got there by accident. They decided, on purpose, that arts and culture were worth protecting from politics—and, in some cases, worth building an entire identity around.

“That’s how Miami has flipped the switch,” says Glus. “People go to Miami for culture as much as they do the beach.”

San Diego has spent decades selling itself backward: Beach and weather first, culture as an afterthought you might stumble into. Glus would love to see the strategy flipped: Visitors should come for the art, “and then, by the way, you’re on the beach.”

Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

So What Happens From Here?

“I do think it was a wake-up call for the community,” de Poyen says of the budget fight. “People understand that our funding is vulnerable. It was a lesson in how much power people have when they coalesce. But wow, is it painful.”

Glus says he’s genuinely optimistic. “The players have all changed seats, but the work is moving forward.”

“I believe optimism is a moral duty,” says Martin, who’s both power-fist and polite.

In eight months, there will be another budget fight. Everyone I talked to expects it will be worse. But something happened this spring that can’t be undone.

“I hope this rupture has brought us together in a moment of self-realization,” says Leticia Gomez Franco of the Balboa Art Conservation Center. “I hope we stop being so transactional; we begin to see ourselves and each other as partners in this work.”

That’s the whole ask, really. And it’s on all of us.

This is part of a three-part series. This is Act III. See Act I and Act II here.

A

About Aaryn Belfer

Aaryn Belfer is a writer and editor specializing in nonfiction across art, architecture, and culture. Once upon a time, she wrote a provocative column for San Diego CityBeat (RIP). She was a runner up in the 2025 Matchbook Stories contest at the San Diego Central Library and is irrationally happy about it. Currently in her Soft Girl Era, Aaryn has expensive taste in (mostly flat) shoes and will choose a great art exhibit or live jazz concert over almost anything else. Except, possibly, Javier Bardem.

Art Arts & Culture
Arts & Culture SEPTEMBER 4, 2026

How San Diego Became a City of Art and Culture

The history, communities, and creative movements behind a cultural scene that extends far beyond the city’s postcard image

How San Diego Became a City of Art and Culture
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

This is part of a three-part series. This is Act II. See Act I and Act III here.

Without concrete, wildflowers are just weeds. Any honest history of San Diego art and culture is tension and its reckonings. It begins before the name existed, with the Kumeyaay. It must pass through the Panama-California Exposition, one hell of a county fair that conjured Balboa Park as our grand cultural stage. It pays tribute to the lights of La Jolla, where the donor pool helped realize unrealizable things. It should mention names like Marston, Scripps, Ochoa, DeWitt, Lopez, Klauber, Baldessari, Torres… so many.

In short spaces like this, long histories like that become roll calls. So this is more of a walk through pressure points, notes on recurring forces and regional oddities.

Border life is key to understanding the here of here. Art without dialogue is just decoration. At its best, that dialogue should be a tad muddy, emotionally gassed. In other words, it should be in need of art—to widen perspective, parse meaning, see the unseen.

San Diego’s central dialogue—the magic and the stressor—is being flatmates with Mexico’s second-largest city by population. That makes San Diego a swing-gate of shared and vastly different perspectives, both its own place and something larger. And in no other major city in the US do the fresh flow of ideas from two countries—different governments, laws, mores, expressions, arts, cultures, traditions, economies, loves, and resentments—mingle at such a constant daily rate (due respect to El Paso).

That binational steam created Chicano Park, one of the most uniquely San Diegan contributions to national and international culture. When construction of the I-5 and Coronado Bridge divided Logan Heights, neighbors protested by transmuting prejudicial concrete into redwoods of Chicano art. Turning a civic wound into a beautiful and enduring landmark that expressed and preserved a core identity—like East Side Gallery in Berlin or Constitution Hill in Johannesburg—is damn near the core of what art is supposed to do.

Like any city, the underground-overground friction is crucial in San Diego. Our culture is headlined by institutions that lift creative work onto national and international stages: MCASD, The Nat, SDMA, Centro Cultural de la Raza, the Symphony, WorldBeat Center, The Old Globe, La Jolla Playhouse, Mingei, Museum of Us, Stuart Collection, Timken, ICA, Comic-Con, etc. The next mutations grow in the seams: street murals, music dives, tattoo shops, wheatpasted walls, graffiti, lowriders, surf and skate art (though in San Diego, this is mainstream), pop-up shows, backyard shows, beach raves, any place with room for people and a loose relationship with regulations.

Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

Both art and culture get their power from power. They’re fundamentally a conversation with and retort against dominant structures. San Diego’s most pervasive structure is arguably the most rigid form: the military. Its presence is heavy in the southern tip (Border Patrol), the middle (Navy and MCAS Miramar), and northern edge (Camp Pendleton). The military is San Diego’s largest employer, by a long shot.

Within this plus-sized environment of order and hierarchy, it’s understandable that Shepard Fairey’s “OBEY” posters in the late ’90s struck such a potent chord. The most compelling punk rock is often outside a strong governor’s window. (The “OBEY” series featured an ominous, propaganda-style André the Giant wheatpasted on random ugly surfaces across San Diego—launching Fairey’s style that he eventually used for Obama’s “HOPE” poster.)

Armed forces are often viewed as the absence of creative culture—understandably so, since rogue individual expression feels like a pretty sure way to sink a war effort.

But in San Diego, the Navy’s unsuspecting role as art creator—directly or indirectly—is hard to ignore. Tattoos are a dawn-of-time practice of many early cultures, including the Kumeyaay. But Polynesia was a core realm. Sailors were exposed to it on deployment in the Pacific Rim, inking their arms with the names of loved ones and unit insignia. Back in San Diego, they’d flaunt those tats in the beaches and bars of Mission Beach or PB (Marines did the same in Oceanside.) Enlistees were the muscular flesh galleries that helped turn skin art into one of the city’s most widespread modern art forms.

During WWII, the military also trained huge legions of San Diego laborers how to build war machines. Those mechanics, engineers, machinists, welders, painters, and metal fabricators used those skills for creative good in their neighborhoods—especially in custom car culture, which took off in the post-war ’50s and ’60s. Mexican-American vets helped develop the lowrider scene, a deeply rooted part of San Diego creative expression. Galleries on slow-moving wheels.

Tourism is the other mainstream force ripe for creating against. It is both critical to San Diego’s economy, and one of the greatest barriers to deeper, more nuanced expressions of what and who San Diego is. The industry of selling our city to passers-through creates a gigantic tarp of cultural tropes. It reinforces the most obvious charms—cute zoo animal takes in an epic sunset with a giant margarita—and doesn’t yield much airspace to the thrilling micro-cultures that live and breathe where locals live and breathe. Nothing against watercolors of dolphins, but much against the hegemony of watercolors of dolphins.

Maybe because of these dominant forces, San Diegans especially tend to force underground and institutional art into a needless cage match. It’s human instinct to champion the underdog as more worthy, but that has always felt like a form of articide.

Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

It’s like saying the only good food is made by gritty upstarts who crafted their own whisks from discarded shopping carts. Most of those plucky whisk-makers would love to eventually be paid properly, would love a stage, a grant, a building, a donor, a lighting rig, health insurance, maybe even one chair that doesn’t threaten the spine.

That’s what the major institutions do. Both stages—the duct-taped and the donored—serve vital roles and deserve commensurate support if we care about the entire lifespan of creative expression and not just its first exciting steps. Championing the starving artist exclusively just secures an enduring poverty for the creative class at large.

I’ve often theorized it’s harder to create great art and culture in cities like San Diego, where the climate is supernaturally pleasant. In colder/hotter/rainier/less beautiful cities, people are forced indoors to fabricate their own beauty (the grunge music of Seattle, the obscene creative output of Reykjavík). San Diego’s eternally mild sunshine tends to make the human body our art medium of choice. But scratch the surface of that surf poster (and I’ve only scratched a miniscule percent here), and this city’s far from the cultural shallows it gets accused of being.

Addendum: A Personal Agenda. In scouting the route of art and culture across San Diego county through history, two areas come up again and again: La Jolla and Barrio Logan. So I propose a collaboration between two icons of artful concrete—Chicano Park and Salk Institute (one of the world’s great examples of brutalism architecture). Let Barrio Logan’s muralists go nuts on that coastal science fortress, unite the realms for a moment in time.

This is part of a three-part series. This is Act II. See Act I and Act III here.

Troy Johnson

About Troy Johnson

Troy Johnson is the magazine’s award-winning food writer and humorist, and a long-standing expert on Food Network. His work has been featured on NatGeo, Travel Channel, NPR, and in Food Matters, a textbook of the best American food writing.

Arts & Culture SEPTEMBER 4, 2026

San Diego Restored Arts Funding—But the Crisis Isn’t Over

The city’s cultural sector regained millions after a proposed 85 percent cut, yet nonprofits, youth programs and major institutions still face painful losses

San Diego Restored Arts Funding—But the Crisis Isn’t Over
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

This is part of a three-part series. This is Act I. See Act II and Act III here.

Every spring, Christine Martinez reaches out to the arts community to explain what’s on the line, hoping they’ll engage with the city’s budget process. Cultural funding, she constantly reminds, is almost always strapped to the guillotine. Especially in a city strapped for cash.

“It’s not an easy ask,” says Martinez, manager of Arts+Culture:San Diego. “Showing up is a real cost for small, volunteer-run groups that can’t spare half a day at City Council without possibly having to close their doors.”

Then, last April—with one day’s notice to arts leaders—Mayor Todd Gloria proposed a budget that didn’t trim arts funding; it eviscerated it, from $13.8 million to $2 million. An 85 percent slash. Other city departments faced cuts of about 7 percent.

The scheduled date of the cuts was just three months away (beginning of the fiscal year). Organizational leaders have to plan months if not years ahead to run their organizations. They had made hires, dedicated spending, and programmed their seasons based on a reasonable expectation that support for the arts would be somewhat in line with previous years. (The City has allotted at least $7 million a year to arts every year for the last 20 years, and the last four years have ranged between $13.8 and $18.2 million.)

The day felt even more existential given the national and international climate around the arts: namely, the federal government’s repeated proposal to eliminate the country’s two biggest cultural foundations (NEA and NEH), and the global trend of AI replacing more costly human creatives.

“It shocked everybody,” says Kamaal Martin, arts commissioner and co-founder of Art Power Equity. “If the message had been, ‘Times are tough, everybody tighten their belts a little,’ it would have landed differently. But there was no vision offered for the future, no parity in the cut. It was just, essentially, ‘Fuck you.’”

Among things I’m good at—sleeping late, low bidding for expensive shoes on Poshmark, parallel parking on either side of the street—budget analysis isn’t among them. In trying to understand how bad the finances were for San Diego to propose this drastic cut, I found myself drowning in numbers, pie charts, and politi-speak.

In his April 27 newsletter, Gloria explained that balancing the budget means “asking hard questions about every single dollar this city spends: Is this a core responsibility of city government, or is it something we do when we can afford to?”

Fair enough—if he were to ask those hard questions about every single dollar this city spends. It also makes his conclusion clear: The City of San Diego does not view supporting arts and culture as a core responsibility.

Which begs more than a few questions: Should the City be responsible? If not, then who? How crucial are arts and culture to a city? And since this is a budget discussion, how much revenue does the arts and culture industry generate for San Diego? What’s the ROI?

Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

The Impact of Arts & Culture

$1.2 billion.

That’s how much economic activity San Diego’s arts and culture nonprofits generated in 2022, according to the City’s latest Arts & Economic Prosperity 6 report. The industry created nearly 17,000 jobs and generated $878 million of personal income for local residents. About 15 percent of the people showing up to arts events in San Diego are tourists, so money was raised through TOT (Transit Occupancy Tax). The activity generated $275.7 million in tax revenue to the city.

In other words, the ROI seems to be ROI-ing.

Still, there have been signs that cuts were coming. In 2025, the City demoted the Department of Cultural Affairs to a division, folding it into the Economic Development Department (EDD). That meant Cultural Affairs no longer had independence, nor its own leader sitting at the same organizational level as departments like parks and recreation, library, police, and fire. It lost institutional leverage and would now have to compete with other EDD priorities—real estate, airport operations, business development, etc.—for budget allocation.

To be clear, few arts administrators and leaders I spoke with are interested in the either/or false choice of funding law enforcement or after-school programs; the fire departments or libraries. They’re sincere in looking for solutions that don’t leave any single group with a greater burden of righting a long-out-of-balance budget.

Jennifer de Poyen, executive director of Space 4 Art, says Gloria had long been a supporter of the arts, which made his attempted Red Wedding especially upsetting.

A

About Aaryn Belfer

Aaryn Belfer is a writer and editor specializing in nonfiction across art, architecture, and culture. Once upon a time, she wrote a provocative column for San Diego CityBeat (RIP). She was a runner up in the 2025 Matchbook Stories contest at the San Diego Central Library and is irrationally happy about it. Currently in her Soft Girl Era, Aaryn has expensive taste in (mostly flat) shoes and will choose a great art exhibit or live jazz concert over almost anything else. Except, possibly, Javier Bardem.

Art Arts & Culture
Studio S SEPTEMBER 1, 2026

The Best Gym in San Diego Isn’t Really a Gym Anymore

Earlier this year, Fit quietly dropped "athletic" from its brand, from Fit Athletic Clubs to simply Fit, and started calling itself something new: a social wellness club.

The Best Gym in San Diego Isn’t Really a Gym Anymore
Courtesy of FIT

There’s a version of San Diego that lives in two extremes. On one side, the 5 a.m. crowd: biohackers, marathoners, people who’ve already logged a cold plunge before your alarm goes off. On the other, the after-dark crowd, the ones chasing sunset happy hours and late dinners with friends. Everyone seems to be either optimizing or unwinding, and most of us feel like we’re failing at both.

Fit, San Diego’s reigning Best Gym for the third year running, has built its entire identity around erasing that divide.

Walk into one of Fit’s three San Diego locations on a Tuesday afternoon and the lines blur fast. Someone’s mid-set on the squat rack. Someone else has a laptop open at a café table a few feet away, half-working, half-people-watching. A group is trading plans for the weekend’s event by the recovery lounge. Nobody’s in a rush to leave. 

“We’re not competing for the same people,” says Emily Waybright, Public Relations Manager at Fit,  addressing the arrival of a national luxury gym chain in San Diego this year. “We don’t really feel like we’re in the gym category. It’s this unique thing.”

That unique thing has a name now. Earlier this year, Fit quietly dropped “athletic” from its brand, from Fit Athletic Clubs to simply Fit, and started calling itself something new: a social wellness club.

It’s a small wording change with a bigger idea behind it. Fit was never built around escaping the workday. It was built around the people who genuinely like what they do, and who want workouts, work, and friendships to happen in the same place instead of three separate ones. Because sometimes red light therapy with a stranger turns into weekend plans.

Fit’s philosophy traces back to its founder, who started the brand nearly two decades ago after failing to find a gym he actually wanted to belong to. He looked instead to the old-school country club, where people came for a shared interest and stayed for the community. His version was made for a younger generation, minus the golf, plus the loud music.

Which makes it a little ironic that the very award putting Fit back in the spotlight this year is Best Gym.

What does the best traditional gym look like when the definition of a gym is becoming less traditional? It’s a fair question, and Fit’s answer is that the fitness industry itself is shifting. The 45-minutes-in, 45-minutes-out model is giving way to something closer to a genuine third space, the kind of role the office and the bar used to play before remote work and changing nightlife habits rearranged how people spend their time

For Fit, community isn’t a marketing add-on to fitness. It’s the through-line. Members aren’t just paying for a treadmill; they’re paying for an entire day of social wellness that’s built on performance, recovery, connection, and a plan for the next event on the calendar. That’s a much harder membership to walk away from.

Ambition and ease aren’t opposites here, they exist side by side, where passion and play share the same morning. On September 12, Fit is hosting Sol, a full day wellness festival at Fit Social. The morning focuses on wellness classes and vendors and then the evening is a full party with multiple DJ sets and an open bar. Think of it as a kick-off to locals’ summer in San Diego. 

Ready to see what a social wellness club actually looks like? Visit fitclubs.com, or follow along at @thefitclubs on Instagram.

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Arts & Culture SEPTEMBER 2, 2026

31 People Shaping San Diego’s Creative Scene

Meet the artists, makers, and advocates whose work shapes how the city looks, sounds, gathers, and connects

31 People Shaping San Diego’s Creative Scene
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

San Diego is full of people who deserve a few thousand words on what they make, who they bring together, and how their work changes the city around them. The artists, makers, advocates, and behind-the-scenes talent below are a small part of that larger ecosystem.

To help us narrow our list, we looked for names that kept coming up, work that reflects the diversity of our region, and people building something bigger than themselves.

Jackie is a long-time freelance journalist covering cannabis, food/restaurants, travel, labor, wine, spirits, arts & culture, design, and other topics. Her work has been selected twice for Best American Travel Writing, and she has won a variety of national and local awards for her writing and reporting.

Isabella Dallas is a freelance writer for San Diego Magazine and the Arts and Culture Editor at The Daily Aztec in her final year at San Diego State University. She previously worked as an editorial intern for SDM, but when she’s not writing, you can find her trying the best coffee spots in SD, devouring the latest rom-coms, and indulging in anything and everything pop culture.

Matt Eisenberg is an award-winning writer and photographer based in San Diego. A former ESPN editor, his work has also been published by CNN, Bleacher Report and the New York Daily News.

A

About Aaryn Belfer

Aaryn Belfer is a writer and editor specializing in nonfiction across art, architecture, and culture. Once upon a time, she wrote a provocative column for San Diego CityBeat (RIP). She was a runner up in the 2025 Matchbook Stories contest at the San Diego Central Library and is irrationally happy about it. Currently in her Soft Girl Era, Aaryn has expensive taste in (mostly flat) shoes and will choose a great art exhibit or live jazz concert over almost anything else. Except, possibly, Javier Bardem.

Leorah Gavidor won her first essay contest at age 5. She writes features, news, and non-fiction in San Diego.

Lili Kim

About Lili Kim

Lili Kim is a content coordinator and writer for San Diego Magazine, with experience highlighting local businesses and communities. When not writing or shooting film, she is likely brewing her seventh cup of tea of the day or strolling along Sunset Cliffs.

Emma Veidt

About Emma Veidt

Emma Veidt is an editor at San Diego Magazine. She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism. She loves running, hiking, and rock climbing, but really, she mostly loves encounters with the street cats around North Park.

Gail Czyszczon is owner/copywriter at Z3 Writing and best-selling author of a children’s book series. As a strategic communications professional and editorialist, she's passionate about discovering untold stories and themes that ignite fresh conversation and true change in communities.

Everything SD SEPTEMBER 1, 2026

Guest Publisher’s Note, September 2026: The Arts Edition

For Jonathon Glus, San Diego’s next chapter begins with the artists who help us understand where we’ve been

Guest Publisher’s Note, September 2026: The Arts Edition
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman

Some ancient philosophers believed that humans experience seven-year life cycles or phases of life. Some went so far as to believe that every cell in the body regenerates every seven years.

Much later, in the 1800s, Austrian philosopher, architect, and social reformer Rudolf Steiner developed anthroposophy—an integration of science, art, and spirituality—into his understanding of the human experience. Steiner believed that each of us changes every seven years—from spiritual beliefs to physical evolution—and art is the connective tissue through each of these cycles. Still today, Steiner’s teachings are foundational to the principles of Waldorf education.

While I’ve certainly experienced more than a few human life cycles of my own, I believe that, just like us, cities have their own life cycles.

Cities are living organisms, regenerated every day by the people that live, work, and gather there. Environmental changes, human migration, economic shifts, technological advances, politics, and public policy—they all inform a city’s evolution, sometimes intentionally and sometimes by forces outside of our control. But ultimately, we as humans respond, adapt, and sometimes make our most important new advances.

Photo Credit: Matt Furman

In the aftermath of World War II, in 1947, the Edinburgh International Festival was established to promote international peace through the performing arts. Today, that festival continues as a global gathering place to experience some of the world’s most innovative dance and theater.

In post-revolution Mexico, that country’s government launched a monumental muralism program to celebrate the history of its Indigenous cultures. Today, that tradition still informs the way Mexico tells its stories and how we understand its history.

Here in the US, the National Endowment for the Arts was established in 1965, at a time when the arts were seen as part of our national strength and resilience. For the first time, federal funds were directed to communities across the country to invest in the arts at a local level.

San Diego may be relatively young as a major American urban center, and even younger on the world stage, but our region as home to humans is ancient. Today, we love a San Diego that is built on roads and traditions of the Kumeyaay Nation, where we share a modern mega-region with our sister city and cultural twin, Tijuana, on unceded Kumeyaay land.

History has shown us that the arts generate the very human connection and understanding that allows our politics, policies, technological advances, and human migration to move forward. In that way and more, the arts are the very heartbeat of our city.

In this issue of San Diego Magazine, we celebrate the artists, creatives, culture bearers, and workers who keep our region connected and in conversation as we take on challenges big and small—internationally as well as on our own neighborhood streets.

Artists are our storytellers. They respond to and chronicle the best and the worst of us—our foibles and weaknesses, our struggles, and, undeniably, our successes.

Now: a look back into the past seven years in history. They have not been a walk in the park, with a pandemic, global unrest, and shifting domestic politics as only a few forces that have challenged our lives and our region. Together, we experienced some of our greatest struggles and witnessed tremendous resilience.

That’s exactly why this is an exciting time for the arts in San Diego. We are on the precipice of an even more fertile, sustained, and inclusive time for the arts in our region.

In some ways, Covid seems like an eternity ago. I remember all too well the massive economic impact on our cultural institutions, some of which have never fully recovered. I remember the mass layoffs of the workers who keep our arts institutions going and the teaching artists who were suddenly out of work.

I also remember the poets, filmmakers, actors, and musicians who helped us grapple with the disruptions of the pandemic. Our communities became virtual, and artists gave us the space to make sense of it all.

In fact, a common phrase emerged from the Covid: artists as second responders.

Still today, I think about the short film made by San Diegans Susanna Peredo Swap and Gill Sotu called History of Joy, which captured so brilliantly what we were experiencing during those days of lockdown.

Since then, as an arts community, we’ve pushed forward transformational work that we will continue to build upon in this next seven-year cycle and well beyond.

Hundreds of artists and culture bearers have spent the past several years going to work with community groups across the region as part of Far South/Border North, our region’s component of the California Arts Council’s groundbreaking artist work program, Creative Corps. The impact resonated so deeply that local government and philanthropy partnered for a second iteration, Artist Count, this time a binational initiative launched just a few months ago.

We’ve invested mightily in cultural infrastructure. Need some examples? There’s the reimagined Jacobs Music Center and Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, the Black Arts & Culture District, the state designation of Arts District Liberty Station, and now the burgeoning Art + Design District downtown.

World Design Capital San Diego Tijuana 2024 elevated what we already knew—that the two neighboring cities are culturally and creatively intertwined as one region—and boosted our global presence as a creative juggernaut. Artists, designers, and community leaders worked together to produce more than 600 events across our region that year, and the impact continues.

And “Creative City,” the City of San Diego’s first cultural plan that incorporates arts and culture advancements in the city’s development, was crafted by thousands of San Diegans as a roadmap to take us into the future.

Here’s what I know about the past seven years: San Diego’s artists, creatives, and culture bearers showed up for our region as our storytellers, second responders, and creative workforce.

And for the next seven? San Diego will morph and change, as every city does. Sometimes because of us, sometimes in spite of us. But our city’s creative community has a solid foundation on which to build, led by the artists who witness and tell our stories each and every day.

Jonathon Glus, Conrad Prebys Foundation’s Senior Fellow for Art and Design in Residence at the Downtown San Diego Partnership

Partner Content AUGUST 21, 2026

This Scripps Clinic Physician is Serving Up Care

Laika Nur, MD, takes her love of volleyball from the court to the clinic as team physician for the San Diego Mojo

This Scripps Clinic Physician is Serving Up Care
Courtesy of Scripps Health

Growing up, Laika Nur, MD, Scripps Clinic sports medicine specialist, loved watching beach volleyball when the Association of Volleyball Professionals tour came to her hometown of Chicago. A talented volleyball player herself, she remembers sitting in the stands all day, and once, even got a couple autographs. Years later, Dr. Nur was attending a professional event focused on women’s sports, and the discussion turned to a new professional women’s volleyball league. The general manager and coaching staff  for San Diego’s team, the Mojo, happened to be in attendance, and Dr. Nur took the opportunity to ask them if they needed a team doctor. Flash forward to the Mojo’s inaugural 2024 season, when Dr. Nur officially became the team physician. Click here to read more about Dr. Nur and how she incorporates lessons she learned on the court into her practice. 

For more nutrition, wellness, and healthy living tips, sign up for the San Diego Health newsletter here.

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