#LAStrong

Over the past two weeks, life in and around Los Angeles has felt overwhelming. The wildfires roaring through our hillsides and neighborhoods haven’t just destroyed property; they’ve left many of us experiencing what some are now calling “Wildfire PTSD.” Every time a new alert lit up our phones—sometimes several in a single day—it brought another jolt of anxiety, another reminder that the flames were close and unpredictable.

Water-dropping helicopters and firefighting planes have become a daily soundtrack, crisscrossing the skies at low altitudes and stirring the air with a relentless roar. Their presence feels both reassuring and nerve-racking: reassuring because help is on the way, nerve-racking because the threat is so real that such drastic efforts are necessary.

Although I was raised in Detroit, I’ve lived in Southern California for most of my life. I fell in love with the natural beauty here—the countless hiking trails and expansive parklands, which, amazingly, outnumber those of any other major city in the country. I love exploring those ridgelines and hidden valleys brimming with wildlife, from bobcats to mountain lions (also known as cougars). It’s worth noting that L.A. is one of only two megacities (cities with more than 10 million people) in the world where big cats roam freely; the other is Mumbai, where leopards wander.

Then the relentless winds hit, sometimes gusting over 100 mph. In a matter of minutes, small sparks—often from power lines—would become raging infernos that raced across 50 acres, and then 100, and then more. Altogether, more than 40,000 acres have burned and over 12,000 structures—many of them homes—have been lost. Thick smoke billowed into neighborhoods, leaving the air heavy with the toxic smell of everything that once stood in these communities.

As the fires spread, so did the evacuations. Phones rang with that familiar plea: “I’ve been evacuated—can I stay with you?” And as ever, people opened their doors, offering comfort, shelter, and hope. Still, more than 80,000 remain displaced. Some already know they have nothing to return to; others wait anxiously to find out what’s left when the evacuation orders are lifted.

It’s our sincere hope that you haven’t been directly affected by this disaster. But if you have, or if you know someone who has, please remember: you never know what burdens another person may be carrying. This is a time for empathy, patience, and understanding. A small act of kindness—listening to a friend, offering a place to stay, or simply sharing a moment of genuine connection—can make a world of difference.

We’re all in this together. We might be imperfect humans, but we can still reach out to help one another. Let’s take care of our neighbors, our environment, and ourselves as we move forward, rebuilding and healing—one step at a time. 

Note: If you're motivated to learn how else you can support relief efforts, check out #LAStrong.