Jose Rodriguez is a community activist and advocate who has been the president and CEO of El Concilio California for the past 30 years. Mr. Rodriguez’s opinions are his own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Stocktonia.
Stockton has spent years trying to outrun its reputation.
For too long, the city has been reduced by outsiders to headlines, crime statistics, bankruptcy, national rankings, and easy narratives written by people who do not know its neighborhoods, its families, its small businesses, its workers, its artists, its children or its resilience.
Stockton is more than that. It is one of the most diverse cities in America. It is a city of immigrants, working families, faith communities, entrepreneurs, culture, struggle and extraordinary strength.
That is why Stockton’s recent decision to officially position itself as a more compassionate and empathetic city mattered.
In January 2026, the Stockton City Council unanimously adopted a Compassionate City resolution — a 7–0 statement of principle intended to affirm dignity, safety and support for all residents. It was not framed merely as symbolism. It was presented as a commitment to community trust. It made clear that city employees and police would not inquire about immigration status while providing services or during routine, non-emergency police work.
The message was supposed to be simple: people should not be afraid to report crimes, seek help, attend public events or access city services because they fear government power.
That was the promise.
Then came the 2026 Cinco de Mayo Multicultural Festival.
The festival should have been an example of Stockton at its best: a celebration of culture, unity, food, music, family, heritage and community. It was also an event for which the city of Stockton is often willing to accept public credit, despite the fact that the actual work, risk, planning, investment and responsibility belonged to El Concilio California — a nonprofit agency that has served this community for decades.
And on both Saturday and Sunday that weekend, the city’s actions helped undermine that work.
Under the stated guise of addressing “street shows,” targeted law enforcement activity took place around the festival area. But there were no street shows occurring there. There were no known plans for street shows connected to the festival. What there were, instead, were families in family cars being stopped, cited and, in some cases, having their vehicles confiscated. On Saturday alone, a reported 62 cars were impounded.
That is where the language of compassion collapses under the weight of reality.
When a family living paycheck to paycheck has its car towed, the harm is not theoretical. It is immediate and destabilizing. That family is suddenly forced into an impossible calculation: pay to get the car back, or pay rent; pay impound fees, or buy food; satisfy the state, or meet the basic needs of children at home. To these families, a vehicle is not a luxury but the difference between getting to work or losing a job.
That is not public safety.
A compassionate city does not speak of dignity while humiliating families in one of the poorest parts of town.
The contradiction is impossible to ignore.
The consequences of these actions did not end when the tow trucks left. They followed families home. They followed workers into the week. They followed parents into conversations about which bill would not get paid. They followed children who watched their parents humiliated, frightened, stranded or punished by the very city that says it wants them to feel safe.
This is not about Cinco de Mayo.
It is about whether Stockton’s compassionate city identity is a governing principle or a political costume.
Stockton’s words in January were good words: Compassion. Trust. Safety. Dignity. Unity.
But words without conduct are wasted air.
The city now has a choice. It can minimize what happened, hide behind enforcement language, and hope the affected families remain silent. Or it can do what a truly compassionate city would do: acknowledge the harm, explain who authorized these actions, account for why they occurred, and ensure they do not happen again.
Stockton deserves better.
And if this city truly wants to become the place it claims to be, then compassion cannot end where poverty begins.