“CAN I HELP YOU WITH SOMETHING?” Martin Arenas calls out to a woman wandering through Union Station, her face shifting from confusion to frustration. “Where can I tell my daughter to pick me up?” she asks. Arenas points out two spots on either side of the downtown L.A. transit hub, and the now-relieved woman hurries off.
As an L.A. Metro transit ambassador, Arenas, 28, and his partner, Maria Leal, 27, spend a good chunk of their shift greeting passengers, offering guidance and reporting any unusual activity. With their bright green polo shirts or gray jackets labeled “Metro Ambassador, Support Connect Report,” they’re easily identifiable as they toss a friendly “hello” to commuters, check on a howling homeless man or report spilled coffee on a rail car.
During a routine pass through the Westlake/MacArthur Park station, Arenas and Leal spot a semiconscious unhoused man on the floor, gripping a lighter in his right hand. Recognizing signs of a drug overdose, Arenas tries to get a response from the man, who can’t quite sit up but is too restless to lie down. Arenas kneels, speaking in English, then switching to Spanish, as the man falls in and out of consciousness. Leal phones both 911 and their supervisor, while Arenas unclips a Narcan kit from his belt, oblivious of commuters passing by.
After the supervisor arrives, Arenas administers Narcan, which is used to reverse an opioid overdose. Minutes later, the man regains consciousness and struggles to his feet, pausing to scoop up his lighter and scraps of aluminum foil from the ground. Paramedics and police appear on the scene, but the man, still unsteady, refuses medical treatment and boards a subway car as the doors begin to close. The entire episode is over in less than 15 minutes.
Just another day for L.A. Metro ambassadors.
Transit agencies nationwide are adopting programs like this as they experiment with ways to address public safety beyond traditional policing. Metro has seen steady ridership increases and a mostly downward trend in serious crimes since March 2023, when 325 unarmed, uniformed ambassadors were deployed — although it is unclear if there is a direct connection. However, in a recent Metro survey, 63% of respondents said seeing an ambassador made them feel safer.
“Safety is not just security or safety from crime, but it’s also the feeling of safety,” said Jennifer Vides, Metro’s chief customer experience officer.
“It’s not enough to have a system that is safe. For a customer, it’s important for them to also feel safe.”
Like many transit agencies in the early to mid-2000s, L.A. Metro was concerned about declining ridership. Surveys indicated that commuters worried about safety and cleanliness. In 2017, Metro’s governing board voted to increase spending on security to address an increase in homeless people on its transit lines. The following year, Metro partnered with L.A.’s Department of Health Services to work with PATH, a homeless services agency, in assisting the unhoused.
Today Metro has six homeless outreach partners with 24 multidisciplinary teams who cover the entire bus and rail system, seven days a week.
“We’ve got people who are outreach workers, peer-support specialists, mental health specialists, substance-use specialists, social workers and some medical personnel,” said Craig Joyce, Metro’s deputy executive officer for homeless initiatives.
But the primary goal, he said, is finding appropriate housing for people sheltering in the transit system. During the first half of this fiscal year, Metro’s outreach team has housed 805 individuals. What makes Metro unusual, Joyce said, is that the agency is “funding our outreach efforts through transportation dollars — operational dollars.”
After George Floyd’s death in 2020 at the hands of Minnesota police and the nationwide protests over excessive policing in communities of color, Metro’s board decided to take things a step farther. Staff was directed to work with community leaders “to re-envision transit safety and community-based approaches to policing.” A framework for the ambassador program was developed in 2021, and the following year, the board authorized up to $122 million for multiyear partnership contracts with Strive Well-Being and RMI International, which hire the ambassadors.
A proposal to make the pilot program a permanent part of Metro is now under consideration.
Anastasia Loukaitou-Sideris, a distinguished professor of urban planning at UCLA, where she also is the interim dean of the Luskin School of Public Affairs, has studied these types of partnerships and has seen an increase in their number nationwide in recent years. She calls it “a step in the right direction.”
Metro’s partnerships are key to its multilayered approach to safety, which includes homeless outreach and crisis intervention teams, as well as local law enforcement, contract security and Metro Transit security.
Ambassadors must complete an 80-hour pre-deployment program that includes situational awareness, emergency preparedness, CPR and conflict de-escalation training, said Karen Parks, senior director of Metro’s ambassador program, the largest in the country.
Many have life experiences similar to those whom they assist. Arenas said that he was unhoused for more than two years, and Leal said her grandmother was homeless for a brief period.
Knowledge of what it’s like to be unhoused, they said, motivates them to help others.
Since October 2022, Parks said, “We have had over 760,000 engagements” with commuters and the homeless. In addition, she said, ambassadors have saved 121 lives, mostly related to drug overdoses, since last spring when Metro added training in the use of Narcan.
It was Narcan that Arenas administered to the man on the floor at the Westlake/MacArthur Park transit station. After the incident, Arenas and Leal were called back to their base office.
They would have a chance to wind down, file their report and maybe take a lunch break.
Lead supervisor Jennifer Sory and Josh Cortez, program manager for Strive, wanted to be sure that Arenas and Leal were mentally prepared to return to their jobs.
If not, they could leave work early.
“I don’t think I want to go home,” Leal said, gathering her water bottle, backpack and jacket. “I’m ready,” Arenas said, nodding in agreement.
“We’re ready to go back to work.”
