Resilience in the Midst of the LA Wildfires

Short reflection on my observations of how the LA community has responded to the wildfire disasters

The wildfires in Los Angeles have burned forty thousand acres in less than a week, including thousands of homes and businesses. The trails I have left a piece of my heart on are possibly burnt to a crisp, leaving animals displaced or dead and Mother Earth vulnerable. While I want to respect everything lost, I want to focus on the ‘vibe’ I’ve noticed in LA these last few days in this post. It’s a mix of fear of the unknown, sadness for the losses, and determination to rebuild.

I have driven in and out of this city four times this week. On Tuesday morning, I was already gone when the first fire started. That evening, I drove back to LA and saw the orange glow and flames as I got closer. I’ve never felt such helplessness; there was nothing I could do to help. From Thursday to Sunday, I made the trip out of and back into LA three more times. At 4 p.m. on Thursday, I was on the 405 near Culver City, and maybe four other cars around me were driving North. No traffic at this hour is unheard of, even on Coachella weekend.

As you get closer, the city feels heavier. You can feel the collective sadness. Everyone thinks LA is massive and that every face is a stranger. But when you look at it, everyone knows at least one person this disaster directly impacted. These fires have touched us all. LA is such a small, big city.

When I first moved to LA, I heard every warning: people are fake, everyone is out for themselves, and no one will say hi to you on the street. After establishing LA as my home for 10+ years, I can say this isn’t true. This city grinds, everyone works hard, and strong communities are all around. But what truly stands out is how, when push comes to shove, everyone is there for each other. This is the strength of our community, a beacon of hope in these challenging times.

Last night, I joined a conversation with LA transplants about the East Coast cities we grew up in. The consensus from our experiences in our hometowns was that the world was against you there—the snowstorm versus you, a battle with the rain, and a very ‘why me’ mindset. But LA is not that. The people here are not that. We’re used to the grind, know how to be scrappy, and fight our way to success. We are resilient and flexible. We bend, adjust, and adapt but will not break. This elasticity is our strength, a source of reassurance in the face of adversity.

The city may be heavy and at an extreme low, but we’re ebbing, flowing, and taking action. We know how to make something out of nothing. Our community, united in our shared experiences and resilience, will work to put this city back together. This unity is our strength, a reminder that we are not alone in this journey of recovery.