Cruising without Limits: Sacramento Lowrider Commission’s Cultural Victory
1935 Oldsmobile at the 2014 Americana Celebration in Old Sacramento.
Photo by Jack Snell, Creative Commons
What began as simple transportation grew into a powerful way to connect, celebrate culture, and cruise together.
Lowriding and cruising culture have been around since the 1940s, originating in Mexican American communities in Southern California and the Southwest after World War II. Young people would gather to hang out, which led to the creation of social groups that organized fundraisers, dances, and other events. They shared a love of cars—repairing them, customizing them, driving them. These car clubs developed strong identities and networks, and they continue to evolve and grow.
While these car gatherings grew in popularity and admiration, they also drew the scrutiny and suspicions of others. Some cities even enforced anti-cruising bans.
Cruising is legally defined as driving a vehicle along a specific route multiple times within a designated period. California’s “No-Cruising” law was officially enacted on March 22, 1988. This allowed cities and counties to enact ordinances that prohibited cruising. Ordinances were enacted across the state, including in Los Angeles, Modesto, Sacramento, and other cities and counties.
Law enforcement used these ordinances to target lower-income BIPOC communities and shut down their cruises, stigmatizing the recreational practice as somehow criminal. Even as negative assumptions of the lowrider community began to fade away, the anti-cruising bans were still in effect. It wasn’t until 2022 that ordinances began to be repealed.
The city of Sacramento was the first in California to repeal through the efforts of the Sacramento Lowrider Commission. Their accomplishment had a domino effect, which led to lifting the statewide anti-cruising ban. It paves the way for future generations to continue the tradition of lowriding and cruising.
I grew up in the lowrider community in Santa Rosa, California, with my dad guiding our family through car shows and explaining all the facts about any lowrider we passed on the road. I can’t pinpoint a first memory with lowriders, as they’ve always been a part of my life. One of my favorite memories, though, is my dad piling my mom, younger sister, and me into his ‘62 blue and white Chevy Impala (we called it “Old Blue”) just to grab ice cream. Those simple cruises turned ordinary moments into something unforgettable.
Now I’m a proud resident of Sacramento, where the Lowrider Commission’s efforts continue. Being a leading role for other communities, the commission still plays a key role in legislative action. Its members helped author AB 436 (cruising is not a crime bill) and supported ACR 176 (recognizes lowriding as an important cultural tradition).
They also created a historic tribute to lowrider culture by officially renaming a street typically known for cruising in Miller Regional Park to “Lowrider Lane.” According to Francine Mata, president and co-founder of the commission, Lowrider Lane is a “tribute to our past, honoring our past, highlighting our present, and paving the way for our future.”
Mata was born and raised in Sacramento and within the local lowrider community. Working for the Legislative Council of California, she fell in love with information and being able to create change. She took her skills in legislature, research, policy, and community building to help establish the Sacramento Lowrider Commission and fight injustice.
I had the honor of interviewing Mata to discuss the importance of cruising and the commission’s accomplishments.
How would you define cruising and what it entails?
Cruising can be a lot of things. It’s pride, culture, family, nostalgia, and it tells our story. Cruising also contributes to positive mental health. It gets you up and puts you to work. You have to make sure your car is clean, you can turn on your music, tell your family to meet up, and cruise together. It just takes your mind off things and brings families together. It’s as if we’ve turned into the breeze you feel when you roll down the windows. That’s what it feels like to cruise.
Cruising can be either a quick get-together or a special event. During COVID, cruising was one of the things many people did. We would do drive-bys to celebrate someone’s birthday, support someone’s new business, grand openings, parades, weddings, funerals, and all community celebrations. Cruising brought the community together in a time when we couldn’t be together to celebrate.
What do you find most important about the practice of cruising?
It teaches our younger ones. It teaches everybody about community and how one thing, like an automobile, can bring everybody together. There are people who come from all over and meet, introduce, and talk to each other about shared interests. That, to me, shows pride, culture, and how you can share your stories with people. Whether you have a classic car, a hot rod, a lowrider, a bike, or a motorcycle, we’re bringing people together of all different backgrounds.
Do you have a lowrider? And what detailings make your car special and unique to you?
I’ve had lowriders since I was about fifteen years old. I had a handful of Cutlasses that my grandparents bought me or I bought myself. I also had a 1964 Chevy Impala, and I now have a 1972 Le Mans Pontiac Sport.
But my 1963 Chevy Impala, which is mine, is very special to me. I named her Shari Baby after my niña, who was a lowrider lady. Shari Baby is special to me because it’s original. I put a few new things on it, like new rims and fixed the paint, but everything is original. And that’s just my style. I like keeping things original and classic.
Can you describe a memorable moment you have had of being within the lowrider community?
The most memorable moment was when we got locked out of William Land Park and Miller Park. At that moment, I looked around at my friends and family and finally realized the injustice that we have been enduring for so many years, and it was considered the norm for us. At that point, enough was enough, and we started to look into how to tackle this problem. It might not be the happiest memory, but it is the most memorable because that was the start toward making a change for us.
How has the commission worked to shift the public perception of cruising?
We’ve worked to shift the public perception through our contributions. You can see through the data, research, and the numbers that it paints a different story than what has been told. You can also see what we’re truly about through our cars.
Recently, we hosted CaLOWfornia Love: A Lowrider Culture Exhibit at the California State Fair, where we tried to get people to understand that beauty. These lowriders are beautiful, it’s art, and our stories belong on display and in a museum. Our exhibit was a great tribute to everybody who had to endure the harsh realities of the anti-cruising ban. We had approximately 151,000 people there from all different backgrounds coming up to us and telling us their story.
For me, every car tells a story, and although it mainly started as Chicano culture, its influence has grown across diverse communities, and we try to highlight that.
I give my love and respect to my commission because you know with great risk comes great reward. It took a lot of sacrifice for us to achieve what we did together. I feel that our Sacramento Lowrider Commission doesn’t get enough credit, and we work tirelessly to pave the way to break barriers. Our work speaks for itself, and we do it for the benefit of the entire community.
What would you want future generations to remember about this movement?
When people work together on a common goal, the unthinkable can be achieved, and amazing things can happen.
Brianna Fernandez is a program intern with the 2025 Smithsonian Folklife Festival and a master’s student in museum studies at the University of San Francisco. This interview was edited for length and clarity.

