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Our way of life: the swap-meet subculture

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Our way of life: the swap-meet subculture

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OUR WAY OF LIFE:

THE SWAP-MEET SUBCULTURE

by

Carla Maria Guerrero

A Thesis Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
MASTER OF ARTS
(PRINT JOURNALISM)

May 2008

Copyright 2008 Carla Maria Guerrero
Acknowledgements

This work would not have been possible without those who have supported this
project from its inception to the end. First and foremost, I would like to thank my parents
and sisters for their unwavering support as this project developed. My father Homero and
mother Graciela were the inspiration for this work and continue to inspire me day after
day.
I would also like to thank my advisor Felix Gutierrez, who helped me keep my
head above water throughout the past two years at USC Annenberg. His guidance and
dedication allowed me to challenge myself to do better.
The swap-meet families and the swap-meet children are the heart of this project.
Thank you for sharing a slice of your lives. The swap-meet holds a special place in my
heart and I dedicate this project to all the hard-working, self-sacrificing individuals who
have come to this country in search of that elusive American Dream. We are in the
struggle together.

ii
Table of Contents

Acknowledgements ii

Abstract iv

Body 1

References 18

iii
Abstract
The swap-meet is more than a place to find a good bargain on antiques and used
junk. The swap-meet is an important economic resource for entrepreneurial immigrant
families who make a living from it. More than anything, it is an important cultural and
social institution for the Latino community in a time of growing xenophobia and anti-
immigrant sentiment in the United States. These families make the swap-meet thrive and
their stories are told below.

iv
Despite its name, the Bel-Air Swap-meet is neither fancy nor luxurious. It bears
little resemblance to the posh West Los Angeles enclave of multi-million dollar
mansions. When it’s empty, there’s not much to see. It’s a black slab of concrete where
678 spaces no bigger than eight by 10 feet each are drawn up in long aisles with
intermediary light posts.
Not many people would call the Bel-Air Swap-meet beautiful, but on the days it is
open, it is pure magic. Paper-mache piñatas shaped like popular superheroes and cartoon
characters are hung high and flutter alongside large leopard print bedspreads, clothes and
even cages with parrots and finches. Mexican ranchera music is heard over the din of
people hawking their wares or shoppers arguing for a better bargain. Kids are heard
crying, fixed on a toy their parents refuse to buy while others are drawn to the smell of
cinnamon and sugar from a stand selling churros.
I call it beautiful because much of my childhood was spent at the swap-meet. I
would kiss the tar-black, gum-stained ground of space F-38 if, well, it wasn’t dirty. For
the past 15 years of my life, I have accompanied my parents to sell leather goods, hats
and other general merchandise. Like hundreds of other sellers, we’re part of a working-
class dynamic—of Latino immigrants working towards that elusive and near-impossible
“American Dream.”
Located almost 50 miles east of downtown Los Angeles, the Bel-Air Swap-meet
is in the heart of the Inland Empire. Nestled in Bloomington, it draws thousands of
shoppers and hundreds of vendors from neighboring cities like Fontana, Rialto, Ontario
and as far away as Los Angeles, the San Gabriel Valley and the inland desert cities. On
1
the weekends, it is a mecca that draws faithful bargain hunters and those who just want to
spend a good time.
However, the swap-meet is more than a place to find a good bargain on antiques
and used junk. The swap-meet is an important economic resource for entrepreneurial
immigrant families who make a living from it. More than anything, it is an important
cultural and social institution for the Latino community in a time of growing xenophobia
and anti-immigrant sentiment in the United States.
There are about 300 swap-meets in the state of California and about 2,000
nationwide and in Canada, estimates the National Flea Market Association (NFMA).
With at least 1.5 billion shoppers annually and 2,250,000 vendors selling each day
nationwide, the swap-meet industry makes $5 billion in annual sales and about $400
million is paid in taxes, the NFMA says.
“I like to think of California as the basis of the industry because of the weather
and we’ve just thousands and thousands of outdoor theaters here,” said John Schoen,
executive director of the NFMA. At 300 swap-meets, California has the most swap-meet
locales in the country, followed by Florida, said Schoen.
The swap-meet industry is growing as across the states, particularly those with
fair weather most of the year. “In Arizona, one of our members has two swap-meets and
each one has 1,600 [spaces] and those are recently built over the last six years, so that’s
the way the industry is going,” said Schoen.
The NFMA carries out various surveys and studies in order to gauge the industry
and provide swap-meet operators with support against their adversaries: retail
2
corporations, film and recording industries as well as grocers, all of whom claim to lose
profits to swap-meet vendors who sell the same type of merchandise, but at less cost. A
recent national study headed by Schoen and the NFMA, found that swap-meet vendors
represented 36 countries and 19 languages. English and Spanish being the two
predominant languages in California as Latinos make up the majority of both shoppers
and vendors, said Schoen.
At the Bel-Air Swap-meet, vendors pay a fee of $40 to $50 dollars per space per
day. They are required to abide by the established rules and regulations that govern the
swap-meet such as not leaving behind any trash at the end of the day as well as not
selling counterfeit, stolen or illegal merchandise. In order to sell at this or any swap-meet,
vendors are required to hold a valid California seller’s permit issued by the State Board
of Equalization, a valid driver’s license and car insurance.
A seller’s permit is needed, obtained at no cost from the Board of Equalization, a
state agency that collects annual sales tax from individual sellers and to a certain extent,
regulates swap-meets. But the informal nature of swap-meet transactions makes it
difficult to do so.
The swap-meet is a hidden world. It is a sub-culture of the working-class,
immigrant experience. For the California Board of Equalization, a swap-meet is defined
as “two or more people or businesses offering merchandise for sale or exchange and
prospective sellers and buyers charged a fee to enter.”
For shoppers, the swap-meet is just a place to buy things like food, clothes, knick
knacks, and antiques, whatever. It’s a place where they come just to walk around, get out
3
of the house, and get some fresh air. They come to socialize—to meet other people, find
love, friendship—or to just see other people, get some human contact.
But for vendors, the swap-meet is more than a way to pay the rent. It’s almost a
lifestyle. It’s an identity. It’s much like being Mexican, or gringo, or male or female—
you’re a “swap-mero,” a Spanglish term I coined meaning swap-meet vendor.
The swap-meet culture—better yet, “sub-culture”--is so interesting and unique
that I’m surprised sociologists and anthropologists aren’t all over it. If they were, they
would find children like me who have been born and raised here. There are families who
have never known anything else. Retired old folk have made it their “hobby.” Teenagers
have made it a second hang-out. Children can spend their $1 allowance and buy a
fabulous toy.
For most families, owning a stand at the swap-meet is a source of pride. It
symbolizes the love and labor invested in a dream of self-sustainability. No one at the
swap-meet is beholden to a supervisor or a boss. Swap-meet vendors are their own jefes
and jefas, they are their own boss.

A Swap-meet Family
The Torres family arrives early every Friday, Saturday and Sunday at around five
in the morning. They are an immigrant family from Mexico. Alfonso, 44, and his wife
Gloria, 36, have three sons, Moises, Ricardo and Samuel, who were born in this country.
They have been selling women’s dresses at the swap-meet for seven years. Alfonso, a

4
heavy-set man with a paunchy belly and long moustache, quit his steady factory job two
years ago and has since then dedicated himself to this business with his wife.
Short of stature, with a long braid wrapped around her head like a crown,
accentuated by her long gold earrings and black fanny pack, Gloria recounts in Spanish
how she first began working at a San Fernando swap-meet as a helper to a woman who
sold women’s clothing. “When we moved [to Rialto], I wanted to start my own business.
She [a swap-meet vendor she worked for] showed me where to buy the merchandise, she
lent me money and she sold me a truck. I liked it when I helped her and so I began,” she
said.
They have a large corner stand right in front one of the main entrances of the
swap-meet. Their stand is built high every morning with long metal tubes and enclosed
by a tarpaulin cover. It looks like it is two stories high. They hang women’s dresses from
the highest rung all the way to the bottom. It is as if they have built a wall out of
women’s dresses leaving only an opening for people to come inside. When the Santa Ana
winds are blowing, their entire stand sways forcefully making the $40 sequined dresses
flap in the wind as if trying to escape.
“What we like, as independent vendors, is being an owner of our own business.
People who have been employees, who were managers, or worked somewhere else—they
now want to make their own fight for a better future,” said Alfonso.
Alfonso quit his job in Norwalk two years ago because of the drive, “I don’t work
there anymore because of the distance. It’s a lot of physical exhaustion.” He used to make

5
the 53 mile drive from his home in Rialto to Norwalk every day. “The companies only
want you when you’re young, then you’re not profitable. So you want to be your own
owner,” he said in Spanish.
The Torres family sells at two Inland Empire swap-meets, the Bel-Air Swap-meet
and the Pro Swap-Meet which is open only in the evenings. Gloria said they used to go to
a swap-meet in Indio, but it was much too hot. Temperatures reached 125 degrees
Fahrenheit, said Gloria. The weather is one of the worst things vendors have to deal with.
The heat being just one of the evil three: heat, cold, and the winds.
“When it’s windy, we have more trouble with the buyers. It frustrating,” she said
of the attitude of many buyers. They figure that it is windy and things will automatically
be cheaper because vendors are more desperate to make a sell.
People want good bargains. They want good things at cheap prices. The swap-
meet offers that. It also offers fine, expensive products such as the $30 to $40 dollar
dresses that Gloria sells. There’s all kind of merchandise for all kinds of people. All kinds
of working-class people, at least.
“People with little economic resources, who don’t have a lot of money, they can
find good prices on different things like basic products which are a better size and better
price, of the same brand name from big name stores,” said Torres as he explains why the
swap-meet is so popular. “You come and find everything you were looking for. You can
find everything here,” he said.
People can purchase fresh produce and the vital food that sustain the immigrant
Latino community. Tortillas, maize, beans, chiles, peppers, and cactus leaves are all
6
available and affordable. A 20 to 25 pound bag of pinto beans is $15 and pack of 36
tortillas is only $1.50. According to the Torres family, a person can buy everything they
need, from clothes, shoes, food to basic medicines at the swap-meet.
“It’s not that much different than a mall—there you pay taxes. It’s cheaper here,”
said Moises Torres, 18, the oldest son in the family. Accompanied by his youngest 9-
year-old brother Samuel, Moises sells toys at a separate stand on Sundays. Usually found
playing with a toy skateboard, Samuel is a younger version of his father Alfonso. He is
chubby, has big cheeks that any grandmother would love to pinch and too many friends at
every corner. Moises on the other hand, is on the verge of manhood, with slight facial
hair and a shy smile that he too often imparts on the opposite sex.
Some days they wake up at six in the morning to get to the swap-meet with their
parents. They don’t always get paid, said Moises, but he admits that’s all right, because
he understands the money they all earn is for them anyways.

The Children of the Swap-Meet
As a child of the swap-meet I have experienced the same physical hardships and
annoyances that Moises and Samuel have felt. Waking up early on a weekend doesn’t
seem like much of a hardship, but when you are nine years old like Samuel, or even a
teenager, it is the worst feeling to be awakened from your warm and comfortable bed—
even if you know that you will be able to go back to sleep in the van while your parents
work—it’s not the same. For me, it the was and continues to be the only thing I truly hate
about swap-meet work. I am not a morning person.
7
Moises and Samuel are the children of the swap-meet and their voices reflect the
experiences of those of us who have grown up in this world.
“I don’t like it that much,” said Samuel, “it’s hot, raining, windy, always bad
stuff.” Making a face, Samuel continues, “I hate the whole swap-meet.” But he reasons
that the swap-meet helps them make more money than working elsewhere, “If we don’t
work anywhere, we gonna get poor. The swap-meet is an example because you can sell a
lot.”
For Moises, the swap-meet is both work and fun. “I like the money, the video
games and the women,” he said smiling. What he doesn’t like, he said, is not having the
weekends free to go out.
The kids who work at the swap-meet with their parents share many of the same
conflicting emotions. They hate the swap-meet because they must sacrifice their
weekends in order to help out. But at the same time they know they are contributing to
their family’s economic stability.

A Cultural Legacy
The swap-meet is reminiscent of the open-air markets or mercados of Latin
America. It shares many of the same smells, sights and sounds. Among the common
sights found at this Inland Empire flea-market are the holy images of the Mexican Roman
Catholic culture with “Made in China” stamped on the bottom. Statues of the Virgin of
Guadalupe, Pope John Paul II and even the infamous Jesus Malverde, the “saint” of the
Mexican mafia can be purchased here.
8
Jose M. Aguayo, 52, and his wife Hidalia Aguayo, 48, have been selling rosaries,
wallet-sized images of saints and angels and other religious lore for a little over four
years now. Their sales average every weekend between $100 to $600, depending on the
weather and the mood of the shoppers. Their merchandise is bought in the wholesale
districts in downtown Los Angeles, just a couple of streets down the infamous Santee
alleys, known for the counterfeit merchandise sold there.
“I sell here mainly as a hobby. This doesn’t support us. I have a property. This
doesn’t support us,” said Jose M. Aguayo, who moved four years ago to Highland, east of
San Bernardino City.
They moved to the Inland Empire from Burbank because, Hidalia said, she
wanted her 17-year-old son, Jose Gabriel, to go to school in a calm community with no
gangs or violence.
“Always with our faith in God,” said Hidalia, “everything we have is because of
God.” Her family’s sacrifices helped them become economically stable. They bought a
property which they now rent out. The swap-meet brings in extra cash and it serves as a
distraction from boredom at home. “One can’t just do nothing,” said Hidalia in Spanish.
One of the reasons that the Aguayos enjoy the swap-meet enough to continue
coming is the fact that they make friendships and meet people all day long. “What I like
the best is not only what I sell, but I like to meet people. I am very social and I like
talking to people,” said Hidalia Aguayo, whose gray-streaked ponytail, beaming smile
and lively chatter keeps her neighbors entertained for most of the day.

9
“I like to see and meet people, to make friendships. That’s what I like about the
swap-meet,” said Jose. On aisle F, he knows most everyone who sets up shop around
him. He’s friendly with his neighbors and chats from his chair as he watches
people walk by. With his short-cropped hair, well-lined face and hospitable demeanor,
most all vendors in the area know who he is.
What he doesn’t like though, is the weather. “At the swap-meet there are a lot of
disadvantages,” said Jose, “there’s a lot of competition and the weather is always a
problem. If it’s not the heat, it’s the cold, the wind or the rain.”
The sellers of the swap-meet are tenacious people who aren’t scared by 45 mph
Santa Ana winds or dark, rolling clouds. Many won’t leave unless rain starts pouring over
their heads and then they do it grudgingly, cursing at Mother Nature.
“There are people who depend from this work. We don’t. But if you don’t come
to work, you have to pay. Like the people who sell fresh produce, they wake up at 2
a.m.—the sacrifice--so that then they don’t sell anything,” said Hidalia Aguayo referring
to the inclement weather that sometimes forces vendors to go home.
“There are a lot of hard-working people here. People who want to live—their
business is their life. A lot of people at the swap-meet have two things going on, their
regular job and the swap-meet,” said Jose.
“People buy less when there is less money. I think people who buy, buy what is
allowed with their salaries. First things first, like rent and food. Necessities first,” said
Jose of the people who have been affected by the recession and the mortgage crisis in the
Inland Empire.
10

The Sacrifices
The Torres and the Aguayo families haven’t been selling as much as they used in
the last year. They have to work harder to make a sale and people are not so willing to
pay the full amount for a dress or a framed picture of the Last Supper.
“It’s noticeable. Other years it was different. But you can notice the crisis because
the sales have gone down and there’s less money,” said Gloria Torres who is averaging
$200 less in sales every week. The amount might seem paltry to some, but that’s a hefty
sum for a family who solely depends on this income like the Torres family does.
Hidalia Aguayo recognizes the sacrifices that families like her own and like the
Torres family have to make as children have to grow up faster and quality of life is
strained when getting food on the table is a daily struggle. It was her son, she said, who
used to help them when they lived in Burbank and owned a restaurant and lunch truck
business. He acted as cashier after school, and when he was younger, fell asleep at the
wheel of the lunch truck while his parents took orders and made food.
“The family is the one that pays. In the cold, not eating right, they are maturing
very young. They do have fun, but it’s the weekend, they don’t have time to go to
church… that’s the thing, they don’t lead a normal life,” said Hidalia of the children of
swap-meet vendors.
Samuel and Moises Torres are not the only kids who have woken up before dawn
to go to a swap-meet instead of staying in their warm beds to wake up to cartoons.

11
In Her Own Words
For Carolina Guillen, 23, it has been over five years since she has had to wake up
at five in the morning to go to the swap-meet with her family. Lucky her, at the age of 23,
I still do.
Carolina is my cousin, she grew up in this swap-meet world and made it her play-
house and work-place long before Moises and Samuel did, even before I did. When my
parents started working in the swap-meet, I thought it was the best of times because I was
able to spend my entire day with her. We were two 10-year-old girls playing with our
Barbie dolls, pogs, playing cards and old board games; we’d stay inside her father’s van
for hours just playing.
“I think I was like four, I don’t really remember but I don’t really remember
having a weekend,” said Carolina, “I don’t remember ever staying at home as a kid.” She
doesn’t really remember when they started selling at the swap-meet; it’s been almost two
decades now.
When Carolina was younger, the swap-meet was like a playground where she
would fall asleep in her parents’ van and wake up to play, to walk around and experience
the sights and sounds of a true festival. She also had to help her parents set up the
merchandise, she would sell and take in money and give out change, all before she turned
10. She had to be good with math.
She’s a grown woman now. She’s graduated from college, having earned her B.A.
in Anthropology and Spanish from the University of La Verne in 2007. But unlike many

12
of her classmates, Guillen spent an unusual childhood-- like many children of Latino
immigrants; she grew up with a strong work ethic gained from the responsibilities that
children like her have to bear.
“I’m wiser about some things; I think it made me grow up a little faster. I look at
my [youngest] sister; she didn’t really grow up in the swap-meet. My brother and me,
we’re different. When we were little, we had a lot of responsibilities. My mom would go
to one swap-meet and my dad to another. I would go with my dad. I would have to take
care of the place by myself when my dad went to buy food or to the bathroom. I was left
in charge,” said Carolina.

Her Family’s Struggle
Carolina’s parents started selling at the swap-meet in 1988-1989 after an aunt of
hers told her mom to get into the business. Her aunt sold women’s clothing at the time.
Her mom, Sabina, started selling women’s clothing too. Her mother’s sister showed her
where and how to buy the merchandise wholesale in Los Angeles. It was only the
beginning, said Carolina.
Afterwards, her father Gaston started selling leather goods after one of their
neighbors at the swap-meet was leaving the business. Her father learned how to work
leather and make belts, dog collars and harnesses. By then, her parents were on a roll.
They went to all the area swap-meets, from Azusa to Fontana, on Wednesdays, Fridays
and on weekends. All their income was provided by the swap-meet.

13
“I liked walking around every morning to look at what people had. Because we
sold in a lot of different swap-meets, I liked looking at everything. In Azusa, every
Sunday there would be a Peruvian band playing and I like hearing them. There was also a
lady who painted plates. She set up next to the Snack Bar and I like sitting down and
watching her paint too,” said Carolina who remembered saving her weekly salary of $1
or $2 until she saved enough to buy herself a painted plate. “I bought one once and I was
so happy. It was $5,” she said.

Work and Play
As the oldest of three, Carolina had to bear many more responsibilities than her
younger siblings. She took care of customers when her parents were not available, she
collected money, and she babysat her younger siblings when her parents were busy with
the stand. She balanced play with work and she felt important with the trust her parents
placed on her young shoulders.
“I don’t have any grudges towards my parents. I knew we had to go the swap-
meet because we needed the money,” Carolina said. “It was like a job, when other kids
got to stay at home and sleep in, I had to wake up and go to the swap-meet.”
“I was always a little embarrassed to sell at the swap-meet. It seemed like it was
lower than normal, but no one ever made fun of me. We never sold at the swap-meet
close to home but I would hide if I saw someone I knew,” Carolina said, “Now I look
back and I realize I shouldn’t be embarrassed. That was dumb of me.”

14
As a child, she did have her moments when she wished it rained on weekends so
she could stay at home and sleep in. Those were the days when her sleep went
uninterrupted and she didn’t have to deal with pesky customers or figure out how to
entertain herself at the swap-meet.
But she often came up with ways to keep herself busy when she wasn’t needed at
her parents’ side. She bought used board games, playing cards, pogs, crayons and other
types of toys to play with her brother, with my sisters and me or her swap-meet friends.
With a couple of quarters she bought candy, chips and snacks at the swap-meet.
“I used to like buying nachos,” said Carolina with a laugh. Those are the good
memories. The bad ones are of when she was handed a counterfeit $100 bill at the swap-
meet. She gave out more $90 in change and she didn’t know it was a fake bill. Another
time her money was stolen.
“I liked Christmas because people are out and we sold toys, they were $4 each or
three for $10. I remember my mom had a stand, my dad had a stand and we [Gaston and
herself] had a stand,” she said. She was 10 years old and her brother was 7 when their
entire day’s earnings were stolen at that stand. They were selling a lot and they put their
money in a box in their van. It was around 11 a.m. and when they turned to their box to
put in the money of another sale, it was gone. All of their hard-earned cash was missing.
It was a lot too, she remembers sadly. That same day, her mom had dropped a $100 bill
when she went out to buy candy and food. It was not a good Christmas.

15
Regardless, she remembers these things but knows it was not her fault. With the
bad comes the good. When she was older, in middle school, she worked harder and was
paid $20 a week.
“I remember in middle school I would save my money. I got paid like $20 and I
would buy CDs, that was my thing back then. There was a stand in the Azusa swap-meet
that sold CDs, shirts, all kinds of stuff and the guy already knew me because I would buy
CDs a lot,” she said.
It’s not surprising to see kids from the swap-meet being at ease when handling
money. There are people who do try to take advantage of the fact that they are young but
oftentimes, swap-meet children learn their lessons quicker. Carolina took a fake hundred
dollar bill once but it didn’t happen again. Her parents made it a custom to inspect every
large bill with a special marker and they quickly developed a trained eye for fakes.
Looking back, the swap-meet provided another plus: the intense family bond that
developed over the countless weekends spent working together, laughing together,
playing together. “The swap-meet is one of the reasons why my family is kind of close.
We woke up together, we went to the swap-meet together, we worked together, we went
home together, we ate together, it was all together,” Carolina said.
Today, as she prepares for her approaching wedding date, she continues to help
her father out even though it’s been five years since they’ve sold at the swap-meet.
Today her father sells his hand-crafted leather dog collars and harnesses over the
Internet. Carolina takes care of the technical questions: setting an eBay account, posting
pictures of the products and dealing with the customers who place bids. Her father
16
doesn’t know how to use a computer, but Carolina takes care of that end. She’s helping
him make a nice profit, selling dog harnesses online for $50 to $60, double to triple the
amount that he would have gotten at the swap-meet. Her father is proud of the fact that
his products are being sold to places as far as the United Kingdom and Canada.

Swap-Meet or “Swamp-Meat”
For Carolina, the swap-meet has left behind more pleasant than bad memories.
She’s proud of the fact that she helped contribute in no small way, to her family’s
economic development. She feels a special bond with her parents and her siblings
because of all the things they have struggled with together. Today, the word swap-meet
brings funny memories that will last a life-time.
“I remember spelling ‘swamp meat’, like swamp, dirty water and meat—the kind
you eat. It wasn’t until years later that I realized that swap means to exchanges goods for
goods and the meet part means to that it’s the place where you meet,” she said laughing at
the fact that she misspelled something so important to her life.
The swap-meet is important to too many people’s lives. Shoppers depend on the
swap-meet for bargain prices on basic necessities from detergent to food and clothes.
Vendors depend on the swap-meet to survive, some more than others. While some might
have a dependable job outside of the swap-meet, many live day-to-day from what they
are able to sell each week. The children of the swap-meet grow up in an environment that

17
seems crude and difficult, grimy and sweaty. They are exposed to a harsh reality of the
day-to-day struggles their parents fight in order to sustain a decent standard of living.
That elusive American dream continues to drive many to wake up at dawn and
work until the late afternoon. The first sale made in the morning is almost holy; some
sellers kiss their dollar bills and cross themselves with the money in hand and look
heavenward. They hope this first sale is a sign that it will be a good day, as they hope
every time they set up their stand as they and their families work for a better tomorrow.

18
References:

Aguayo, Hidalia. Personal Interview. Feb. 9, 2008.

Aguayo, Jose M. Personal Interview. Feb. 2, 2008.

California Board of Equalization. “Operators of Swap-Meets, Flea Markets & Special
Events,” Sales and Use Tax Facts, Publication 111-LDA, July 2007.

-------“California Seller’s Permit Application,” BOE-400-SPA. Rev. 2 (2-08).

Carranza, Rosa. Personal Interview. Jan. 4, 2007.

Guillen, Carolina. Personal Interview. Jan. 10, 2008.

National Flea Market Association. Legislative Handbook. Date published unknown.

Schoen, John. Personal Interview. Mar. 19, 2008.

The Roadium Open Air Market. Sellers’ Rules and Regulations. Aug. 2007.

-------New Sellers’ Introduction to the Roadium. Aug. 2007.

Torres, Alfonso. Personal Interview. Feb. 8, 2008.

Torres, Gloria. Personal Interview. Feb. 8, 2008.

Torres, Moises. Personal Interview. Feb. 10, 2008.

Torres, Samuel. Personal Interview. Feb. 10, 2008.

19

Abstract (if available)

Abstract The swap-meet is more than a place to find a good bargain on antiques and used junk. The swap-meet is an important economic resource for entrepreneurial immigrant families who make a living from it. More than anything, it is an important cultural and social institution for the Latino community in a time of growing xenophobia and anti-immigrant sentiment in the United States. These families make the swap-meet thrive and their stories are told below.

Linked assets

University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

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Asset Metadata

Creator Guerrero, Carla Maria (author)

Core Title Our way of life: the swap-meet subculture

School Annenberg School for Communication

Degree Master of Arts

Degree Program Journalism (Print Journalism)

Publication Date 04/02/2008

Defense Date 04/01/2008

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag flea market,immigrant,Latino,OAI-PMH Harvest,Small business,swap meet,Working class

Place Name California (states), Los Angeles (city or populated place), USA (countries)

Language English

Advisor Gutierrez, Felix (committee chair), Castaneda, Laura (committee member), Wise, Carol (committee member)

Creator Email cmguerre@usc.edu

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-m1081

Unique identifier UC1124331

Identifier etd-Guerrero-20080402 (filename),usctheses-m40 (legacy collection record id),usctheses-c127-24407 (legacy record id),usctheses-m1081 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier etd-Guerrero-20080402.pdf

Dmrecord 24407

Document Type Thesis

Rights Guerrero, Carla Maria

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Repository Name Libraries, University of Southern California

Repository Location Los Angeles, California

Repository Email cisadmin@lib.usc.edu