Months after a noisy controversy over using “Baby Shark” to push people off the sidewalk, downtown Los Angeles barber Shalom Styles is back in the spotlight for a very different reason. This Thanksgiving week, he and his team spent the early morning at Skid Row, offering free haircuts to people experiencing homelessness at the Los Angeles Mission.
By 9 a.m., Styles says he had already given more than 100 cuts. Clippers buzzed, music played softly in the background and a long line of residents waited for a fresh trim before city leaders arrived to serve holiday meals.
“It feels good. I am happy I can do this, do the right thing,” Styles said, calling the event a chance to make amends and to support a community he had once been accused of pushing away.
From ‘Baby Shark’ deterrent to second chances
Styles’ shop drew criticism in May after the property owner who leases him space blasted the children’s earworm “Baby Shark” on repeat outside the building in an attempt to stop unhoused people from sleeping nearby. The tactic fit a broader pattern of so called hostile architecture, in which property owners use sound, barriers or landscaping to make public spaces uncomfortable for people with nowhere else to go.
The music stunt prompted complaints and eventually a visit from LAPD officers, who told the landlord the broadcasting had to stop. It also caught the attention of leaders at Los Angeles Mission, a long standing faith based nonprofit that runs shelters, recovery programs and meal services on Skid Row. Los Angeles Mission+1
Mission leaders reached out to listen, challenge and invite. According to spokesperson Greg Mielcarz, Mission CEO Dennis Oleesky spoke directly with Styles, who expressed genuine regret. Styles said frustration over conditions outside his business had boiled over and that he had not fully considered how the stunt would impact people living on the street.
An early morning of clippers, confidence and community
On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the focus was firmly on dignity, not deterrence. Styles woke up around 3:30 a.m., picked up barbers from his downtown shop and headed to Skid Row. The impromptu pop up barbershop ran between roughly 5 and 9 a.m., ahead of the Mission’s large scale meal service.
Residents filtered into the chair with different stories but similar hopes. A sharp haircut, they said, could mean a small reset, a bit of confidence or a better first impression.
One client, Mikey Resendez, could not stop smiling as Styles shaped his hairline. Resendez, 35, said he has been sober for about a month and now lives at the Mission. He is a musician, with a recording studio session scheduled later that day after his first facial tattoo removal appointment. When a Mission social media worker passed by, he offered to perform “an entire album” for their platforms and said he had 15 songs ready.
Another resident, Gilberto, who declined to share his last name, said it had been four or five months since his last cut. He described the free trim as a simple but meaningful luxury. Later, now freshly groomed, he joined hundreds of others outside the Mission for a traditional Thanksgiving meal, complete with turkey, gravy and rolls, served by volunteers and local officials.
A different tune on Skid Row
Stylist chairs at Los Angeles Mission were only one part of the day’s effort. Volunteers prepared and served roughly 2,500 meals at the Skid Row campus. Among those on hand were Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass, who has made addressing the homelessness crisis one of her administration’s central priorities. Her office has declared a state of emergency on homelessness and launched multiple housing and outreach initiatives, outlined on the official mayoral site. Los Angeles Mayor’s Office+1
They were joined by City Councilmember Ysabel Jurado, Los Angeles County Sheriff Robert Luna, Los Angeles Police Chief Jim McDonnell and gubernatorial candidate and former Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa. Politicians, public safety leaders and volunteers stood side by side, filling plates and greeting residents who, for a few hours, could sit down for a hot meal and conversation.
For advocates, scenes like this highlight the tension in how Los Angeles responds to homelessness. On one side are strategies that try to push people away with music, fencing, spikes or planters. On the other are approaches that emphasize services, relationships and long term rehousing.
Beyond hostile architecture toward real solutions
The “Baby Shark” incident was just one example of the more aggressive tactics some property owners have used as encampments have grown. In other parts of the city, businesses have installed blaring speakers, classical music loops, bright lights, awkward railings and prickly shrubs to discourage people from staying in doorways or under awnings.
Critics argue these tactics may move people along temporarily but do nothing to address why they are there. They say the result is a constant game of displacement, pushing people from one block to another without offering bathrooms, mental health care, addiction treatment or safe housing.
Events like the Thanksgiving haircut clinic offer a competing vision. Instead of trying to drown people out, they bring services directly to the sidewalk, treating grooming, food and conversation as entry points to deeper support. For residents gearing up for job interviews, medical appointments or reunions with family, something as simple as a haircut can make a real difference.
A barber’s attempt at repair
Styles describes his volunteer work at the Mission as more than a one day gesture. It is part apology, part recommitment and part example for other business owners who feel stuck between compassion and frustration.
He acknowledges that dealing with encampments outside a storefront is difficult, especially when customers feel unsafe or sidewalks are blocked. But he also says his experience with the “Baby Shark” loudspeakers taught him that venting anger in public can hurt the very people who are already struggling the most.
On this holiday week on Skid Row, the soundtrack was no longer a children’s song meant to drive people away, but the steady buzz of clippers, the murmur of conversation and the clatter of serving trays. For the residents in the chair, it was a small but powerful reminder that they are seen, they matter and, at least for a moment, the city can show up for them in ways that look more like care than control.
