The schools have mostly reopened after prolonged closures, using temporary classrooms. But the fires, which killed dozens and left thousands homeless, have chopped enrollment by half at some of the affected schools.

“Families went with schools that weren’t impacted by the fires,” said Bonnie Brimecombe, principal of Odyssey Charter-South, which was destroyed in the Eaton blaze. “And then we have other people that are just nervous about coming back [because] it’s a lot to see and be a part of.”

Odyssey South, located in the Altadena area of Los Angeles, reopened on three temporary campuses from January to June of last year including a Boys and Girls Club, an office in Old Town Pasadena, and classrooms at the nearby ArtCenter College of Design.

By fall, the main campus reopened in a school building that was formerly used by another charter, but many families chose other schools or left the area, with enrollment falling to 183 from 375. 

Despite the trauma, students were resilient, improving test scores and good classroom behavior, said Brimecombe. 

“It’s just a complete surprise at how well the kids have gone through this process,” she  said. “The kids are happy, the kids are smiling, they are learning, they are fine. The kids are happy, happy to be back together.”

Still, enrollment challenges persist, and the school has had to let go of a handful of teachers and teaching assistants. The school’s original building felt more like home, Brimecombe said, but kids who have stayed at the school are thriving.

Odyssey South has put new supports in place for students’ including an on-site counseling team that was expanded this year to increase access for students.

The school also brought in art therapists to run a series of sessions with different grade levels, and a counseling team that visits classrooms for structured sessions on topics that surface for specific age groups.

Teachers have also increased the number of field trips at the school to give students “happy situations” and positive experiences away from the fire-affected environment, Brimecombe said.

Odyssey South was able to maintain its previous levels of programming this year but may have to make cuts next year if current funding levels don’t persist, Brimecombe said.

That’s largely a matter of enrollment, since Odyssey South, like other public schools in LA., receives its funding on a per-pupil basis. With half of the school’s students gone, the future is uncertain.

Still, the principal is hopeful.

“Families are coming back,” Brimecombe said. “They’re just not back yet.”Enrollment problems also persist in the Palisades, where three schools were burned, said LAUSD school board member Nick Melvoin, who represents the area.

Palisades Charter High is holding up the best, with about 2,500 students, down from about 2,900 pre-fire. Marquez Elementary has about 130 students, a little less than half of pre-fire enrollment. Palisades Elementary has about 300 students, down by about 100 from pre-fire levels.

Students returned to Marquez Elementary into portable, temporary buildings in the fall. Palisades High students are returning to their school building on Jan. 27, and Palisades Elementary students continue to attend school at their co-location site at Brentwood Science Magnet.

New, rebuilt facilities for all three schools should be completed by fall 2028, “but all three schools are kind of a slightly different journey from now until then,” said Melvoin.

“The families that have been displaced, that are in other parts of L.A. and the country, are either coming back eventually or not,” he said of enrollment drops. “Some families who were not satisfied with the co-located option or didn’t want to be back in the Palisades just yet because of environmental concerns, are still in other schools.”

The district is giving flexibility in where families choose to enroll, said Melvoin, who expects enrollment in the displaced schools to improve.

“We’re going to have some new enrollment for the coming months, as people realize like, ‘Oh, I’m moving back to my house,’ or ‘my insurance money ran out, and so now I’m back in the Palisades,’ and there’s only a few schools that are open,” said Melvoin.

Besides environmental concerns, Melvoin said, families that are staying away due to a lack of infrastructure in the fire-scorched area, and because of trauma.

“The burn scar is still there,” he said. “You’re still driving past a number of destroyed buildings and houses. There are just some families who aren’t ready to put their kids back there yet.”

Many families are hopeful because schools are returning, construction is visible, and some businesses are coming back, said Allison Holdorff Polhill, a district director who works in Melvoin’s office and longtime Palisades resident who lost her home in the fires.

Virtually all residents were under‑insured, and there is still a strong need for federal money, grants and loans to cover rebuilding gaps, said Holdorff Polhill, and people are frustrated by slow government planning and being scattered in rentals or forced into assisted living.

“Every single friend’s home burned to the ground,” said Holdorff Polhill. “People are still traumatized by what happened.”

LAUSD has set aside $604 million for the full rebuilding of the impacted areas in the Palisades, including the three burned schools, LAUSD Superintendent Alberto Carvalho said.

The money will provide for the full rebuilding of Marquez Elementary, which was destroyed, plus new buildings and improvements to existing ones at Palisades Elementary, where about 60% of the campus was burned.

At Palisades High, about 30% of classrooms were destroyed and the remainder are being rebuilt. 

The school is famous for being a popular filming location for Hollywood movies such as Carrie, Freaky Friday, and Teen Wolf, and for notable alumni including J.J. Abrams and will.i.am.

Pali High students have been attending classes in a former Sears department store building while construction is underway to repair fire damage. 

The school’s campus is scheduled for reopening when work is completed later this month. 

Carvalho said the district is still working to recover about $500 million of the expected construction costs from insurance companies.

“The rest we will seek FEMA reimbursements, which we believe we are absolutely legally entitled to,” Carvalho said. “We hope that the federal government will not play games, political games as we seek these reimbursements.”

In addition to these investments, the district will spend in excess of a billion dollars, all funded through Measure US, a $9 billion bond referendum approved by voters in 2024, to build higher levels of fire resilience at schools across the district.

“That means anything from replacement of filtration systems, the acquisition of air purifiers, new filtration systems for schools, HVAC systems, and replacement of roofing structures and windows with materials that withstand fires,” Carvalho said.  

LAUSD has installed more than 230 air quality sensors on school buildings, covering every campus in the district, Carvalho said.

The sensors detect nauseous fumes, particulate matter in the air, and also measure temperature and wind speed, enabling school officials to make emergency decisions in case of fires, he said.

“Prevention is the best solution for fires,” said Carvalho. 

A year ago, Tanya Reyes watched in disbelief as the Eaton fire incinerated her Altadena home. As her three daughters listed everything they had lost in the days that followed, Reyes kept reminding them that what mattered most was that they still had each other. 

A year later, Reyes is struggling. The steadiness she once summoned for her children has been worn down by chronic back pain, brought on by the strain of moving every few months, and the emotional toll of rebuilding her family’s life while working her teaching job, supporting pregnant and parenting teens. 

Reyes is a teacher at McAlister High School in the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) and is among thousands of Los Angeles-area residents who watched their way of life destroyed as fires tore through neighborhoods and schools. Today, life is about finding equilibrium in a new normal, with many still putting the pieces of their old lives back together.

“I’m very much a go-getter and a doer,” she said. “And my body is saying, ‘No, you can’t.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

The 2025 fires cut a wide swath of destruction that the region is still grappling with. Thirty-one people died. Over 100,000 people were displaced.

School communities were hit particularly hard. More than 16,000 structures were destroyed, including eight school campuses in the Pasadena Unified School District and Los Angeles Unified. 

Evacuations put both districts on hold, temporarily halting instruction for roughly .

In the year since the fires, both districts have been on the road to recovery, making progress on plans to rebuild and renew their communities. They have also provided support to students during the year of upheaval.

“Over the past year, the school communities devastated by the January 2025 wildfires have demonstrated extraordinary resilience and strength,” Los Angeles County Superintendent of Schools Debra Duardo told EdSource. “While the Eaton and Palisades fires tragically claimed lives, destroyed homes, and disrupted the sense of security and daily routine that students depend on, we have come together to rebuild, support each other and heal.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

Reconstruction

Throughout the region, school sites are reminders of the fires’ destructive path. Tons of fire debris have been removed, and rebuilding efforts have started taking shape. In many respects, the two school districts have rebounded, but in different ways.

Los Angeles Unified has made headway in rebuilding Marquez Charter Elementary, Palisades Charter Elementary and Palisades Charter High School. 

Rebuilding the schools in LAUSD is estimated to cost up to $600 million. But the school district is able to count on rebuilding funds from a 2024  passed by voters. 

At Marquez Charter Elementary, enrollment is down to 130 students from 310 before the fires — some are attending other schools in the area or have left the region entirely. But in late September, those who remained were able to  to their original campus in portable classrooms. Their permanent campus is expected to be built by 2028, for $207 million.

Just over a mile away, nearly 3,000 Palisades Charter High School students will  to campus this month in portable classrooms after spending the past year attending classes in a renovated . Their new campus is expected to cost $267 million to rebuild and is slated to open by the end of 2029.

It’s a different story 35 miles away in the school communities of Pasadena Unified, where long-standing financial challenges compound fire recovery. District officials also look to a $900 million bond measure passed in 2024 to help restore its five campuses lost to the fire. But money is still tight. The district has struggled financially for years and has been  to avoid a county takeover. 

As the district recovers from the fire, its financial struggles have made recovery difficult. In November, the district  $24.5 million from next year’s budget as part of a larger $30.5 million reduction. Roughly $17.2 million of those cuts were in staffing, from teachers to gardeners and librarians — some of whom had been directly impacted by the fires. About 40 teachers were ultimately laid off. 

Compounded losses 

While both districts were able to relocate campuses — and keep students together in the same classes with the same teacher — within weeks of the fires, some students — particularly foster and homeless youth — struggled. 

In the Altadena area, about 225 children and youth in foster care were living in the region impacted by the Eaton fire, the majority of them school age. Some live in congregate care settings, such as group homes, while others stay with relatives.

Within three months of the fire, 36 students had relocated outside the area, moving an average of 16 miles away, according to an , a research center focusing on youth in the child welfare system.

As recovery continues, Taylor Dudley, the center’s executive director, noted that while some school-based services, such as support for students with disabilities, were initially delayed as schools took account of the losses, they were eventually provided more consistently as schools stabilized. But, she is concerned that students may begin to see other services “drop off” with time.

For example, if a student’s home is now safe to return to, the child might be reenrolled at the school they attended before the fire. Dudley noted that a transition of this nature raises many questions for a foster student, who may not have a constant advocate by their side: Who will ensure all their credits will transfer from their previous school? Will their transportation plan be upheld? Will their individualized education plan (IEP) transfer in full, with all services continuing? 

Meanwhile, the healing process has continued for students in the area who were homeless before the fires or who lost their homes. Nearly 300 homeless students in Pasadena Unified were enrolled by the first Wednesday in October, known as Census Day, during the 2024-25 school year, according to an EdSource analysis of the state’s most recently available data. About 10,800 were enrolled in the Los Angeles Unified School District. 

The state initially made it easier for families to enroll their children in new schools by removing the typically required documentation. Jennifer Kottke, the homeless liaison for the Los Angeles County Office of Education, spent months after the fires consulting with schools, working around processes to verify residency and determine which district a student belonged to. Students experiencing homelessness have the right to immediate enrollment at any moment at any school, she said. 

Some families who were suddenly homeless after the fires “were having a hard time because they’ve never seen themselves as being the ones in need,” Kottke said. “They’re the ones who provided for those who were in need.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

These families had previously been “the givers,” as Kottke noted. Some initially declined resources, from basic hygiene products to computers to food, because they believed other families might need them more, she said.

Meanwhile, as the year unfolded, some students in fire zones faced another crisis: immigration raids in the late spring. Both situations, one immediately after the other, targeted students’ sense of safety, said Lisa Fortuna, who chairs the Department of Psychiatry and Neurosciences at the University of California, Riverside.

“There’s so much threat to self and to one’s close loved ones, the people you’re dependent on, the places and things you depend on as your home, as your resources in the community,” said Fortuna. “It’s a cumulative loss.”

Adjusting to the new normal

Despite a quick surge in counseling and psychological support for students, the emotional fallout from the fires is ongoing. The occasional fire drill or nearby house fire can reignite feelings of fear and loss for students, said Gabriela Gualano, a teacher librarian at LAUSD’s Paul Revere Charter Middle School.

“We had to definitely front-load to the kids: ‘Hey, this is what’s happening. It’s just a drill. We know you’ve done this before. The district just wants to make sure that we’re able to do this in a timely manner, so we’re going to get through it,’” Gualano said. Some students have developed a dark humor around the fires, she said, while others avoid the topic altogether. 

How schools in the region will mark the Jan. 7 anniversary of the fires varies.

At Pasadena Unified schools, a moment of silence will usher in the anniversary. 

Some schools in the L.A. Unified area do not have elaborate plans to commemorate Jan. 7.

Some Los Angeles campuses might opt to plant a tree or take students on a walk, but only activities that heal, said Julianne Reynoso, Pasadena Unified’s assistant superintendent of Student Wellness and Support Services.

Meanwhile, Wendy Connor, a retired first grade teacher at Marquez Charter Elementary, said the school doesn’t plan to do anything on the anniversary. Maintaining a sense of normalcy is still the priority, she said. 

“It’s been a collaborative, iterative process,” said LAUSD school board member Nick Melvoin, who represents schools in the Palisades. “I think we’ve done a lot of right by our students, which is most important, but always, always more to do.”

The district is making “sure we keep our eye on the ball when it comes to the permanent rebuild,” he said.  

Meanwhile, teachers say they’ve had to grapple with decades of losses that can’t be replaced. Connor tries to remember what her room looked like, the place where she taught for 38 years when she and her students fled: “Somebody’s backpack is open on their desk; all the chairs are out or pushed around instead of just sitting all straight normal. It’s all wacky.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

The grieving continues for teachers, she said. “It’s not things that you can turn to the district and say, ‘Will you buy me this?’” she said. “You (used to) have samples of every art project all put together in a binder up on the shelf — and now you don’t have any of it.”

For teacher Tanya Reyes and her family, the past year’s struggles have made her reflect on how the community can best move forward after the devastation. Reyes stressed the importance of remembering “who the roots of Altadena were.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

She, her husband, and three children have moved three times — from one family or friend’s home to the next, and finally into a new rental home roughly 6 miles from Altadena in Sierra Madre. 

Reyes’ family is slowly coming to terms with what they lost this past year when their home burned, including a daughter’s stuffed tigress. Over the past year, the family’s pet bearded dragon died. But life moves on, and their new space is morphing into a semblance of home.

As the year progressed, Reyes learned that the recovery process means taking it slower.

“I feel humbled as someone who is a doer and a mover and a goer to really have to sit back and be still,” Reyes said. “There is a mourning or a grief in my body that I don’t even have awareness of, but it’s showing up.”

This  was originally published by EdSource.  for their daily newsletter.

On a sunny Tuesday morning, students, parents and community members walked atop the bluffs alongside charred foliage and barren lots, back to Marquez Charter Elementary — almost nine months after the Palisades fire ravaged the school site and surrounding region, sparing only three classrooms in its wake. 

For the remainder of the 2024-25 academic year, and for the initial period of this school year, the entire school shared a campus with Nora Sterry Elementary. Now, the roughly 130 children attending Marquez are the first public school students to return to a campus destroyed by the Palisades and Eaton fires in January. 

Even though students are returning to portable structures, the campus’s reopening marked a larger milestone for survivors of the fires. 

“It’s the first thing that’s back in a very serious way,” said Christopher Baffa, a community member whose children attended Marquez but now go to Palisades Charter High School. “We got excited when CVS opened. … It’s these little milestones along the way that really get us further and further from Jan. 7.”

Marquez’s recovery

Baffa and his wife tried to remember the lyrics to Marquez’s school song as they returned to the campus Tuesday morning to witness the progress being made. 

He recalled the words “there’s a school on a hill” — and texted his daughter, a first-year student at Palisades Charter High School, currently  to a former Sears building in Santa Monica, for the rest of the lyrics. Other parents in the crowd embraced as they listened to speakers at Tuesday’s press conference. Some held back tears. 

“Every day since, we’ve been writing new pages and chapters in the story of the Palisades’ recovery. Some days left us filled only with sorrow and loss,” said Los Angeles City Councilwoman Traci Park. “But others captured the strength and resilience that only a community like this can summon. And today, in particular, we’re writing a new page, a brighter one.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

Marquez’s temporary campus, along with the larger rebuild, will cost the district roughly $202.6 million and is slated to be completed by 2028. The rebuilding of all three campuses damaged or destroyed in the conflagration â€” including Palisades Charter Elementary and Palisades Charter High School — will likely cost around $600 million, and will be made possible by a  that was approved by voters in November. 

The temporary campus is home to 19 classrooms, as well as a kitchen, library and play areas. 

Marquez’s enrollment has declined roughly 58% since the fires — from about 310 to 130. And the Los Angeles Unified School District has estimated that three-quarters of the enrolled students are not currently living in the Palisades. 

“It’s not perfect. But, I think not perfect is the beginning of figuring all this out,” said Baffa, whose children attended Marquez. “[The district] figured out a way to get them into a place where they could socialize and see each other every day and have in-person learning, and let’s celebrate that.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

Beyond Marquez 

Marquez may have been the first to return — but it will be far from the last. 

The Palisades fire devastated roughly 70% of Palisades Charter Elementary and about 30% of the historic Palisades Charter High School. Meanwhile, the Eaton fire  five district-run schools in the Pasadena Unified School District and three of its charters. 

LAUSD’s decision to reopen Marquez, but not the other campuses, came in part from a parent survey, according to district officials, who also said Los Angeles Unified engaged families in multiple town hall meetings. 

Just over 45% of the 66 parents who responded to an April survey said they wanted to return to a temporary facility in the Palisades as soon as possible; 36.4% wanted to return by August. 

Meanwhile, just over a fifth of parents said they would not stay with Marquez if it remained at the Nora Sterry Elementary school campus. 

But David Levitus, the parent of a TK student at Marquez, said parents’ concerns — ranging from environmental risks to longer commutes for those no longer living in the area — seemed much more widespread; 52.4% of parents who participated in the survey noted that the availability of transportation was a factor in their decision-making, along with the timing of students’ relocating and other personal circumstances. 

“There is [nothing] resembling consensus in moving back right now,” he said. 

Parents of Palisades Charter Elementary students, on the other hand, opted to wait for a full return to permanent buildings, in part because their campus has less space to house both a temporary school and the ongoing construction of permanent buildings. 

District officials also said Marquez Elementary was home to more students whose families were returning to the Palisades and that Palisades Charter Elementary was closer to commercial properties that were further behind in their cleanup and demolition efforts. 

Uncertain future in Pasadena Unified

Pasadena Unified, the hardest hit district in the January blazes, has also installed portable structures at various campuses, including Allendale, McKinley, Don Benito, Audubon and Webster, according to spokesperson Hilda Ramirez Horvath. 

The district still does not have a timeline for any potential rebuilds, she added. Without the support of a construction bond, Pasadena Unified will rely on multiple sources of funding, including its insurance carrier, and will look into additional sources of public funding. 

“Everyone’s just so interested in what’s happened to us … and we’re just trying to survive,” said Julianne Reynoso, Pasadena Unified’s assistant superintendent of student wellness and support services. “I mean, we’re just still trying to do the job we’re supposed to do every day.”

Reynoso said, “People are coming to school. They feel connected, and that’s a really great opportunity for us to see the trust that people have, no matter what we’ve been through, that they’re willing to still show up.”

Around , Albek received a call from a friend. “Alicia, there’s a fire behind your house,” Albek recalled hearing before looking out her window to see that the hill behind her home was on fire.

Within minutes, Albek started contacting the children’s parents. Due to road closures, two families could not get to Albek’s home to pick up their children, both 18 months old.

“I said I would drop them off on our way to evacuate,” said Albek. “It took me half an hour to drop off one baby a block away. It took me two hours to drop off the other less than two miles away.”

“We were stuck on Sunset [Boulevard]. There was a car in the middle of the road … and it had caught fire. I couldn’t help but think: We’re going to blow,” said Albek.

“My daughter was in a car in front of us. I had someone else’s baby in my backseat. All I could think is, I have to get them away from this fire.”

Albek succeeded in dropping off the two toddlers before evacuating with her daughter and husband to her son’s home in the San Fernando Valley. They stayed for three weeks before finding a rental home to live in temporarily. 

Albek’s house was burned, along with her backyard. She’s still waiting for her home to be cleared of the ash and lead that entered through the vents and crevices so she can begin to rebuild. Since she evacuated, she hasn’t been able to provide child care for the 20 families she served.

Albek’s program was one of child care facilities destroyed in the , according to The Child Care Alliance of Los Angeles. The Los Angeles Times reported in late January that at least of them were home-based. Families who relied on these programs had to look for alternative arrangements, but , let alone, child care has become increasingly challenging.

Home-based child care providers faced overwhelming dilemmas. Many grieved as they lost their home and business in one fell swoop. And, they carried the weight of navigating loss. Months later, these challenges persist as providers continue to feel the consequences of the fires. 

Below are the stories of eight providers who live in communities hit hard by the wildfires. (With support from Home Grown, a funders collaborative focused on home-based child care, the providers were given a small stipend for their time.) Five lost their homes and businesses, and three have been unable to reopen. Two have had to find a new location to reopen their child care facility, while figuring out a temporary housing solution for their own family. While each provider has their own story, all of them echoed a similar message: a commitment to their community and the children they serve.

Alana Lewis’ neighbor’s backyard in Altadena, California days after the Eaton Fire. (Alana Lewis)

These vignettes offer a small window into the experiences of home-based providers who lived through the fires — the emotional toll of the losses they faced, the responsibility they feel to get back to providing care, and the aid they need as they navigate the recovery process. 

The vignettes below draw quotes from interviews, which have been lightly edited for length and clarity. Two interviews were conducted in Spanish and translated into English. 

Alicia Albek

Neighborhood: Pacific Palisades, California

Number of children served: 20  

Number of years providing child care: 30

Impacted by: Palisades Fire

Still providing child care? No

Alicia Albek immigrated from Argentina to the United States in 1976, and moved to Los Angeles in 1983. She settled down in the Pacific Palisades neighborhood with her husband and was inspired by her own children to open a home-based child care program. In 1995, she opened Alicia’s Place. This year would have been the 30th anniversary of her program. 

When the fires broke out, Albek was serving around 20 children from 6 months to 4 years old, accommodating a variety of family schedules and preferences for the days and hours of care.  

“[The Palisades] is a place [where] you know the clerks in your local markets, the post office people, the mail lady,” Albek reminisced. “It’s very horrible what is going on. Hopefully, we can rebuild.”

Albek’s family lost their home in the Palisades fire. She also lost her child care program. She has been living in a rental home while waiting for the debris to be cleared from her home, and for the necessary approvals to begin reconstruction. She isn’t sure if she’ll reopen Alicia’s Place. That depends on how the home repairs go, she said. 

The families Albek cared for moved out of the neighborhood, she said, but she saw some of them recently at a gathering she hosted at her rental. 

“A few of the families showed up. People were crying. They were all displaced. Some were still looking for child care,” she explained. Others have found care, but she said: “I have people telling me that they’re finding new places, but nothing like ours — like home away from home. I had it set up so beautifully. The kids were so comfortable there, and the parents were comfortable to have a safe, clean, loving place for their kids.” 

Marcia Colasanti

Neighborhood: Santa Monica, California

Number of children served: 6

Number of years providing child care: 18

Impacted by: Palisades Fire

Still providing child care? Yes

Marcia Colasanti immigrated to Los Angeles from Brazil to study at a local university. After navigating the child care system for her own children, and volunteering at her son’s day care, she decided to open her own program. “I saw the great impact I could have in my community,” said Colasanti. “I looked into it, and decided to open my own business.”

Colasanti has been running her program since 2007. Her home wasn’t damaged by the fires, but her community was impacted and she said she’s been trying to support them as best she can.

When the fires began, Colasanti closed her doors for three days. Her only employee, who had an infant son, had evacuated and she couldn’t open alone. “She did not feel good about us closing,” said Colasanti. “I told her not to worry, it’s a natural disaster.” After evacuating to a relative’s home, her employee came back, Colasanti said. “She commuted from the [San Fernando] Valley.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

Shortly after she reopened, Colasanti learned that one of the families she provided care for had lost their home. “The family was traumatized. I offered them child care after hours, whatever I could do to help,” she said.

Colasanti’s costs increased during the fires. She installed air purifiers in every room and her electric bill “skyrocketed,” she said. Meanwhile, two of the six families she provided care for could not pay because their jobs were located in an evacuation zone. Colasanti provided free care for two weeks. With the increased electric bill and interruption of payments, she . 

Colasanti hopes that in the future, providers are given the resources they need to survive a disaster. “I was very fortunate I did not have to close my doors for good. I know many child care providers who did, who are struggling to reopen,” she said. 

Aurys Hernandez Carillo

Neighborhood: Altadena, California

Number of children served: 12

Number of years providing child care: 19

Impacted by: Eaton Fire

Still providing child care? No

Aurys Hernandez Carillo immigrated from El Salvador to Los Angeles when she was a teenager. While attending college, she worked part-time at a local child care center. She fell in love with the work, and shared her dream of owning her own child care center with her mother. The two decided to open a home-based child care program of their own. Her mother retired in 2021, making Hernandez Carillo the sole owner of the business.

In the early hours of Jan. 8, Hernandez Carillo evacuated her home with her husband, their children (then 5 and 8 years old) and her parents who lived with her. They only had time to grab two changes of clothes and their documents.

Their home was gone by the morning. 

“In the morning, the families [of the children I cared for] started to call me. They did not want to tell me what happened to my home, only that it was bad in our zone,” said Hernandez Carillo through tears. “I felt terrible. How could I tell my kids we had nothing?”

Hernandez Carillo and her family moved between short-term Airbnb rentals and friends’ couches for months. She eventually received a check from her home insurance to cover temporary housing, but it could not be used on short-term lodging like hotels or Airbnb. Hernandez Carillo searched for weeks for an affordable space that she could use the housing support from her insurer on, but the search proved difficult with the in the area. 

The outside area of Hernandez Carillo’s home after the Eaton Fire. (Aurys Hernandez Carillo)

While she wanted to rent a home that was suitable for reopening her business, property managers gave her a cold shoulder, she said. “When I tell them that I would like to have a day care there, they tell me they are not renting for that,” said Hernandez Carillo. “There are some realtors who have said they’ll discuss with the owner, but they later declined because they do not want to go through inspections.” Ultimately, the families of the children she cared for had to find other options. 

Her family is now living in a rental apartment. She is studying to earn her teaching license in order to work at a center-based child care facility. She intended to pursue the additional licensure before the fires, but losing her business fast-tracked that plan. Without her business, her husband’s salary is the sole source of income for the family.  

Alana Lewis

Neighborhood: Altadena, California

Number of children served: 13

Number of years providing child care: 11

Impacted by: Eaton Fire

Still providing child care? No

Alana Lewis was born and raised in Altadena, California. She started her career in the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) as a special education educator and worked in the district for 12 years before becoming a home-based child care provider in 2014.

“I’ve always had compassion for people. When I was at LAUSD, I was able to help children one-on-one,” said Lewis. “That’s why I opened up my own child care [center].”

Like Hernandez Carillo, Lewis evacuated her home in the early morning hours of Jan. 8. Later that day, she received news that her home was significantly damaged, with the backyard destroyed and inside filled with ash and debris. “One of my parents called and said, ‘Your house is gone. Don’t come up here, it’s devastating.’”

Lewis moved between hotels, short-term rentals, and family and friends’ couches until June. She had no source of income as she waited for her home to be cleared of debris, and relied on a patchwork of grants and community resources to sustain herself. Lewis looked for a temporary location in her community for her child care center. But, with many locations also partially or completely destroyed by the fires, she had no luck.

The families she served also endured loss. “I have two parents whose homes completely burned down. Some parents have had to find other child care, because they had to return to work. But I still keep in touch,” said Lewis. 

Lewis was able to return home in June. She reopened her program later that month, and is currently providing care for seven children.

As she reflected on her experiences since the fires, she said she hopes policymakers and advocates recognize the important role child care providers play in the lives of children and families, especially during challenging times.

“Please remember us,” said Lewis. “Consider what we bring to the community, how we are effective in children’s lives.”

Elizabeth Reilly and Shea Morris

Neighborhood: Pacific Palisades, California

Number of children served: 8

Number of years providing child care: 4 (30 years in education)

Impacted by: Palisades Fire

Are they still providing care? Yes

Elizabeth Reilly moved to Los Angeles from Houston, Texas, and currently lives in Woodland Hills. She co-owns the Eclipse School, a home-based learning center, with Shea Morris. Both were classroom teachers for decades before opening their child care business. The center was located in Morris’ home, which was lost in the Palisades Fire

“I felt the stress of losing the business, relocating, [knowing] that we have families counting on us. I had to put it all together, and support everybody who lost more than I had,” said Reilly. “Shea had to help her family and find a new home. In the beginning, I felt the weight of the loss of income, and the responsibility of leading Eclipse to its new home.”

While Morris focused on supporting herself and her family through the devastation of losing their home, Reilly took the lead in reopening their business. They were connected to someone who had extra space in her home. 

“The home and school burned Wednesday morning. We knew we were not going to be able to go back,” said Reilly. “We saw the [new] space that Friday.” By March, she said, they reopened the Eclipse School in Santa Monica, leveraging to expedite the opening. 

“The hardest part was not only losing my home, but the loss that was so much more than a place to live. It brought the loss of a community that I lived in for close to 20 years,” said Morris.

“I can have this sense of loss and I can be super grateful for all the people who reached out to help,” said Morris. “I have to give Beth credit. I was so focused on helping my family, and she was able to jump into action to help Eclipse.”

On Sept. 2, The Eclipse School started a new year at full capacity, with 12 children enrolled. 

Anonymous provider

Neighborhood: South Los Angeles, California

Number of children served: 2

Number of years providing child care: 17

Impacted by: L.A. County Wildfires

Still providing child care? Yes

One provider, who asked not to be identified by name due to concerns about in her community, moved to Los Angeles from Mexico in the early 2000s and she’s been caring for young children for nearly two decades. 

“My passion has always been caring for others. I studied nursing in Mexico,” she said. “Then, I started taking care of my son and providing child care for my two nephews. I realized I liked it, and that I wanted to dedicate myself to it.”

Over the years, she continued working in child care — she is a , meaning that she is a provider caring for the children of her family members, friends or neighbors in her community. 

She quickly learned she could not financially support herself on the income she earned from child care, so she picked up a second job. In the morning, she takes care of her niece and a neighbor’s daughter. In the afternoons, she works from home as a fabric trimmer for a clothing company.

Her home wasn’t in an evacuation zone, but she was impacted by the fires, and so were the families she supports. Her niece’s mother and her neighbor worked in the evacuation zone and experienced job interruptions, causing them to lose some of their income for weeks, so she watched the children while their parents went to seek work. 

During and after the fires, the provider incurred extra costs. She said she had to buy an air purifier because her neighbor’s daughter had asthma. “Even though we were inside the apartment, it smelled burnt. The ash, the smoke, travelled inside… There were days I helped her use her inhaler.” She also bought more toys to entertain the children in her care while they were stuck indoors due to smoke. 

She has continued to care for her niece and her neighbor’s daughter. Reflecting back on the fires, she said, “I wish there had been more immediate supports, like air purifiers or helping bring groceries to those who could not leave their homes. The smoke was toxic — we were not going outside at all.”

Felisa Wright

Neighborhood: Altadena, California

Number of children served: 14

Years of child care provider experience: 16

Impacted by: Eaton Fire

Still providing child care? Yes

Felisa Wright was born and raised in Los Angeles. She said she’s always felt called to caregiving, and worked in a children’s hospital before opening her home-based child care center in 2009. At the start of this year, the center served 14 children, including six of Wright’s grandchildren.

Wright lived in her home with her five daughters and her grandchildren. The family evacuated in the early morning hours of Jan. 8 and haven’t been able to return to their home since.

Like Hernandez Carillo, Wright has struggled to find a new place to live because of her business, for providers running a child care program out of their home. “Owners do not want to rent to me [when] I say I have an in-home day care. They say it’s too much responsibility, too much of a liability,” said Wright.

In August, Wright moved into a rental home with two of her daughters and three grandchildren, but her other three daughters and their kids have had to find lodging elsewhere. While she continues to provide child care for her six grandchildren, she has been unable to officially reopen her program to the public and enroll children from the community. She has gone without an income for months and, with no savings, she’s had to rely on credit cards for her expenses, small grants from organizations and a GoFundMe. 

Wright is hoping to reopen her child care program at her local church, using similar that Morris and Reilly used to streamline the Eclipse School’s opening. Her child care license was approved and she has set up the space, but she has been unable to obtain insurance and cannot operate the child care facility without it. But Wright said she’s committed.

“I love children. This is my purpose in life. This is what I’m supposed to be doing,” said Wright. “So I’m not going to stop.”

Home-based care providers deliver critical care during emergencies and periods of crisis, even when they are living through the experiences themselves and are personally by their impact. 

The L.A. County fires inspired around disaster response and recovery. Yet, there are still gaps where institutional support is not reaching those who need it, and around the progress that has been made. In recent months, there has been more investigation into understanding the consequences of the fires, including the and . 

“Consider what we bring to the community, how we are effective in children’s lives. We do it out of love and compassion for children,” Lewis said. “Child care providers became first responders during the pandemic. We did our part in a time of disaster. We stepped up. … Remember us.” she added.

Albek, Hernandez Carillo, Lewis and Wright provided care during stay at home orders of the pandemic. But when the fires came to their communities and they needed aid, the system failed them. 

Several weeks after students returned to Canyon Charter Elementary School following the Los Angeles fires in January, a second grade student at the school cried as his teacher packed up an absent friend’s belongings.

“What are you doing with this stuff?” the student asked, his grief ongoing, and mounting.

Katje Davis said it was difficult to explain that his friend was displaced by the Palisades fire and had to move to another school.

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“This loss was hard,” Davis said. “But … we’re good teachers here. And we’ve figured out how to put the kids first.”

The second grader was one of hundreds who left the Los Angeles Unified School District, which lost two elementary schools to the fires, and the Pasadena Unified School District, which encompasses Altadena, and was the hardest hit.

And as the academic year comes to an end, teachers, administrators and experts have stressed that schools in areas affected by fires have remained a key source of stability, despite campuswide adjustments to a new normal and the ongoing grief expressed by students, many of whom lost their homes, pets and communities. Five months after the fires, students were back on track, making progress academically and emotionally.

“Schools provide a sense of continuity and safety for children,” said Pedro Noguera, the Emery Stoops and Joyce King Stoops Dean of USC’s Rossier School of Education. “And, that’s why it’s so important to be in school.”

‘Nothing like Covid’: Returning to normalcy

Despite losing some schools to the fire, Los Angeles Unified and Pasadena Unified were relatively quick to bring students back and resume classes at their new locations. Many students returned by the end of January.

The schools that burned down were relocated to new campuses, so students could stay with the same campus community, classroom, classmates and teachers.

Parents at Canyon Charter Elementary were concerned about environmental risks, according to Davis, and many kept their kids home until the district completed a Soil and Indoor Air Dust Report in late March.

In the months following the Eaton and Palisades fires, students who lived in impacted communities dealt with different circumstances and missed varying amounts of instruction. Some initially seemed happy to be back with their teacher and classmates; others struggled emotionally.

“This is nothing like Covid — because at Covid times, everybody was in the same boat,” Davis said. Her school was in a unique position — they were the closest to the burn zone but did not perish. They also didn’t have running water until mid-March.

Wendy Connor, a veteran first grade teacher at Marquez Charter Elementary School, which did burn down in Palisades, said the initial days and weeks after they resumed in January at Nora Sterry Elementary were geared toward students’ emotional well-being.

Teachers started marking tardies in mid-February, she said, and she tried to cover only the essential parts of each lesson.

“We’re reading a story. We’re writing. We’re practicing spelling and writing sentences and things like that,” Connor said in an interview with EdSource in February. “But, we’re just not doing it for as long as we normally would. If there’s five questions for them to answer, maybe I’ll just have them do three.”

As the weeks rolled on and students started to settle into their new environments, Connor said she felt she had been able to steer her first graders back into a more normal school day.

By May, most of the kids at Marquez Charter Elementary had settled down and were happy at their new location, Connor told EdSource.

“There’s been some stories of a few different students from different classrooms whose parents wanted them to go to a different school … and the kids just refused to go. They wanted to stay at Marquez.”

The efforts at Pasadena Unified have yielded some surprising results, according to Julianne Reynoso, Pasadena Unified’s assistant superintendent of student wellness and support services.

Although 10,000 of the district’s 14,000 students were evacuated from the Eaton fire, the district’s diagnostic assessments show that the number of students performing at or above grade level in math and reading across elementary and middle school has increased between the August/September and March/April assessment periods.

Specifically, the number of elementary students who performed at mid- or above-grade level rose 15 percentage points in math and 14 percentage points in reading.

Among middle schoolers, math scores rose by 11 percentage points and 6 percentage points in reading.

An LAUSD spokesperson said in an email to EdSource that they do not have any data measuring the impacts of the Palisades fire on students at Palisades Charter Elementary and Marquez Charter Elementary.

A changing landscape

In the final weeks of the spring semester, the school day looked similar to what it was before the fires, with one notable exception. Connor’s class is a lot smaller. Only 12 of her 20 students came back, and she made the most of the smaller class size.

“When you have 20, you have to run around to like six different kids that need your help. When it’s only 12, it’s like two kids,” Connor said. “And then we end up with extra time in the afternoon, and we’re starting to do some more coding activities … [and] other enrichment-type activities.”

At least 89 students left Los Angeles Unified due to the fires, according to a district spokesperson, while Pasadena Unified lost roughly 420 students.

“We did have families that left us,” Reynoso said. Other families maintained long-distance commutes to keep their kids in the same district school. “But what’s interesting about it is that they said, ‘We’ll be back. This is just temporary for us,’ I hope that’s true.”

But the fires, coupled with fears around immigration enforcement, also led to an uptick in the district’s rate of chronic absenteeism.

At the same time, Reynoso said Los Angeles Unified unexpectedly gained 263 students. She speculates that this could be the result of a California executive order allowing students who were affected by the fires to attend schools in other districts.

But every fire is different.

According to Noguera from USC, many communities in Santa Rosa and Paradise that suffered losses after fires returned and rebuilt. However, he cautioned that a large-scale return of families might be less likely in Los Angeles.

“Not everybody who was there will come back or can afford to come back,” he said. “It’s a process that’s going to take time, and we will only know, with time, how it all comes together.”

The 79-page “Family Insights” report found LAUSD families saw improvements in their schools in the past year, with support for leadership of the nation’s second-largest district increasing significantly.

The 2025 version of the annual poll, published by the L.A.-based nonprofit education advocacy group , found nearly three-quarters of families approve of both Superintendent Alberto Carvalho and the LAUSD school board, ratings that exceeded those of last year. 

Its findings were based on surveys of more than 500 LAUSD families conducted in the fall and again in February.

Most families gave their schools a “B” grade overall, GPSN Executive Vice President Ana Teresa Dahan said in an interview, acknowledging the positive direction of their kids’ education, while also seeing the need for more growth in certain areas.

“We have had some big crises happening, and I think families are generally happy with how the district has responded to those crises,” said Dahan of the poll’s results. 

“Families think that their kids are doing well in school,” she added. 

A published earlier this year by GPSN found LAUSD at a critical turning point, with fresh obstacles from the , changes in federal aid and new policies under the Trump administration, including immigration crackdowns, causing stiff headwinds for the district.

The GPSN poll found 63% of families thought LAUSD students and their own children were performing at the right level or above in reading and math, up from 54% last year.  

Almost 90% of parents rated instruction at their child’s school positively on this year’s report. 

Just over half of families surveyed in the poll said kids’ emotional and mental health needs have become the top priority in public education. Parents said they want schools to provide mental health services, such as counseling, both during and outside the instructional day.

More than half of families surveyed — 55% — said they did not feel adequately represented in district policy decisions, although that figure improved from last year when just 34% felt well-represented.

The poll found a majority of LAUSD families value high-quality teaching and instruction, and nearly half of parents also identify free home internet and high-quality tutoring as their top three priorities.

LAUSD students made gains in their scores on the district’s most recent state reading and math exams, but most kids in the district still . LAUSD made progress on federal assessments released this year but .  

In a written response to the GPSN report, a LAUSD spokesperson said the district is receiving good feedback from parents, and school officials are committed to better listening to families.

“Los Angeles Unified is proud that a majority of parents in a recent GPSN survey expressed satisfaction with their schools,” a district spokesperson said in a statement. “This continued growth in parent confidence affirms the hard work of our educators and staff.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

Located in the San Gabriel Valley of Los Angeles. was one of about a dozen Armenian schools in L.A. offering a faith-based education. Founded in 1980 by the Altadena’s Armenian evangelical community, the school serves more than 180 students from preschool through middle school. 

It was one of the L.A. across the city over in what experts said could be . 

Hovhannes Halladjian, a local pastor, said when the school burned it was like losing a member of the family. But, he said, the community is determined to rebuild in a new location. 

“Sahag-Mesrob Christian School was one of those schools that tried to do its best to teach the Christian and Armenian tradition and Christian values,” he said.   

On the day the Sahag-Mesrob burned, Halladjian said he was in the area helping friends and relatives evacuate when he saw the school engulfed in flames. 

Before he knew it, everything was gone.

Students in preschool through first grade have relocated to a nearby church, while second through eighth graders are temporarily holding classes at an Armenian cultural center in Pasadena. 

and fundraisers have been launched to support the school’s relocation effort, but rebuilding will be a long, difficult road. 

Ed Haroutonian, whose children attend Sahag-Mesrob, called the loss of the school heartbreaking.  

Haroutonian, who serves on the school’s board of directors, said Sahag-Mesrob was a center of culture and religious faith for Altadena’s Armenian community. 

“Having two kids in private school is a big sacrifice for us, but it’s worth every penny to have our kids in,” a place, Haroutonian said, where students “learn what our faith is about and our culture.”

Although it is Christian, Sahag-Mesrob is a non-denominational school with no affiliation to any church. Its mission is to provide an education within an Armenian heritage and cultural setting.

Vania Agojian, whose daughter Zoey attends Sahag-Mesrob, said she decided to send her daughter to the school because of its legacy, community, and religious foundation. 

“A lot of these public schools, when there’s like so many students, sometimes they lose touch with the kids,” Agojian said.

She said Sahag-Mesrob is more than just a school, but a place where generations of Armenians have built a community.

“In Zoey’s class right now…I knew their parents when (they) were that young,” Agojian said. “It’s just really neat to see generations of students that have come through.”

She said the fact that Armenians have experienced genocide because of their religious beliefs has strengthened their commitment to preserving their faith, traditions and religious-based education.

The community has suffered more than just the loss of its school. The wildfires destroyed vast swaths of Altadena, including residential blocks where many Armenian families lived, Agojian said. 

“I know at least a dozen families at Sahag-Mesrob, if not more, [that] have lost their homes,” she said. “We have students who have lost not only their school, but their homes, their safe havens.”

This article is part of a collaboration between ĂŰĚŇÓ°ĘÓ and the USC Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism.

In this interview, Hydon, who serves as the director of the School and Educational Settings specialization program at USC’s Dworak-Peck School of Social Work, shares insights on the impact of secondary trauma on educators. Hydon, who has also been a consultant for the U.S. Department of Education, served as president of the American Council on School Work, and led the co-development of an on secondary traumatic stress with other experts in the field. He’s traveled across the country and world to train schools on secondary traumatic stress, many of which were impacted by natural disasters. 

This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. 

What is secondary trauma, and how have you seen it manifest in teachers? 

Secondary traumatic stress is like PTSD, but it’s not your trauma. It’s the trauma of someone that you’re working with. In this case, students. Teachers might hear about neglect, abuse, food insecurity, and they’re exposed to it every day. And so they start to show symptoms that are kind of PTSD symptoms. They can’t sleep, or they avoid certain areas or they’re hyper-vigilant. Sometimes it can make them question whether or not they can stay in the profession.  

I’ve had teachers say to me, “I just don’t think I can do this anymore.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč; 

What can teachers do to take care of themselves when experiencing secondary trauma?

Self-care is so important, but sometimes it’s hard for teachers because they’re givers. They’re taking care of their students, their families, and sometimes it’s hard to take care of themselves.  

We know that taking care of well-being across life domains — environmental, social, financial, cognitive and spiritual wellbeing can help mitigate the impact of secondary traumatic stress. Taking advantage of vacation, taking your lunch breaks, actually enjoying a good meal, going for a walk outside, making sure you’re checking in–all those things can help remind us that we’re going to be okay. And yes, I might have experienced secondary trauma, but it too will pass.

One thing I’ve seen work really well is groups of teachers coming together for support. In Joppa, Missouri, they had [what they called] The Breakfast Club, where they walked together before school, wore comfortable shoes, and made a rule that they couldn’t talk about work. They’d talk about dinner plans, their weekends—things that weren’t work-related.  

It’s also about finding little moments in the day. Taking a breath. Stepping outside. Even just having a quiet moment to yourself can help. Teachers need to give themselves permission to take a break, even if it’s just for five minutes.  

What can schools do to better support teachers? 

There’s a concept out there called trauma-informed or trauma-responsive schools. It is that everybody in the school is aware of how trauma can impact us. So it’s teachers, it’s bus drivers, coaches. It’s the custodial staff. Everybody in that school knows that trauma can impact all of us in certain ways, and so to be trauma-responsive is to understand that, “Hey, trauma happens. It’s inevitable. It’s going to happen. It’s happened in the past, and it’s going to happen in the future. So let’s be ready. Let’s be understanding. Let’s be gentle. Let’s be aware. Let’s have spaces to bring people together to talk about something.”

Is there anything else you think people should know about secondary trauma among teachers in areas affected by the Palisades, Eaton, and other fires? 

The districts I work with, whether they’re local or regional or national, they’ve been fantastic. When I think of the districts over here—Pasadena, South Pasadena, and LA Unified—I mean, these districts understand crisis response and emergency response and trauma. They’re trained, they’re good at it and they know what they’re doing.  

We should feel safe that our students are going to be taken care of, and that’s important, especially as we see these fires pop up in other places.  

I know that the Santa Monica Malibu School District—it’s a fantastic school district, and the social workers there are awesome. And so we’ve got good people on these grounds and they’re doing good things.

This article is part of a collaboration between ĂŰĚŇÓ°ĘÓ and the USC Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism.

When she got the news, Bonnie Brimecombe was standing on a sidewalk outside her in-laws’ house in Monrovia, where she had evacuated amid the chaos of last week’s fires. It was a video, sent by a colleague, showing the charred remnants of Odyssey South Charter School, where Brimecombe has been principal for three years.

Classrooms, desks, books, the owl murals, the fourth-graders’ quilt project, the newly planted native plant garden — all scorched by the Eaton Fire. Flames still lapped at one building, as the rest of the campus smouldered.

“It was gone,” Brimecombe said, choking back tears as she recounted the moment. “And then all the text messages from families started coming in. You’re just getting message after message, ‘My home is lost, I have nothing.’ The school didn’t even matter at that point. You just think about the families.”

Odyssey South, a popular TK-8 charter school in Altadena, was among the dozen or so schools destroyed in the Los Angeles fires. At least 40% of the school’s families and 10 staff members lost their homes. As of Friday, 5% of families were still unaccounted for.

Like at all the damaged schools, staff are navigating their own fire hardships while frantically scouring the city for new classroom space. Even as the fires continue to burn, the most important thing, they said, is to bring an element of normalcy to children whose lives have been upended.

Searching for a new school

As soon as she saw the video, Brimecombe and her staff “grieved for a few minutes” and then got to work looking for a new school. They’ve toured other school sites, churches, office buildings, even a vacant Bed Bath & Beyond. They’ve talked to real estate agents and countless property owners who’ve offered to help. 

But it’s not easy to find space for 375 students. The first hurdle is enrollment — Brimecome isn’t sure how many students will actually be returning to school once it reopens. Some evacuated to other counties or even other states, and it’s unclear how many will return, or when.

Another challenge is competition. There aren’t that many vacant spaces in the Pasadena area suitable for a school, yet there are at least five schools looking for space. Not all have the same needs, and they’re cooperating when they can, but there’s still not enough space for all the schools who need it.

The next obstacle is more practical. A vacant office building seemed perfect, but where would Brimecombe and her staff find hundreds of school desks and chairs? A nearby school offered to share its campus, but there wasn’t enough space for the entire student body so they’d have to split up — not a desirable option when students need continuity and to be with their friends, Brimecombe said.

And the final obstacle is money. Like many charter schools, Odyssey leases its campus from a school district. The school has insurance, but no control over the district’s plans to rebuild the site. The state and federal governments will provide some funding, but as an independent charter organization Odyssey is mostly on its own. It can’t raise money through a bond, and it lacks the staff to navigate the labyrinth of grants, permits and other paperwork. Although the school has launched an , staff aren’t sure how much money they’ll need or how much they can expect from various sources.

Odyssey isn’t alone. Los Angeles County has a high concentration of charter schools, and at least a half dozen were damaged or destroyed by the fires. Two charters near Odyssey – Pasadena Rosebud Academy and Aveson Charter School – not only burned down, but the principals also lost their homes.

Charter schools have a long road ahead as they wrangle with school districts and patch together money for rebuilding, said Keith Dell’Aquila, an advocate with the California Charter Schools Association who focuses on greater Los Angeles.

“For some schools, it’s total devastation,” Dell’Aquila said. “People who are leaders in their school communities also have no place to go at the end of the day, no place to put their kids to bed. It’s been unimaginable.”

His group is asking Pasadena Unified, which leases space to several damaged charter schools, to help find new space for those schools and to share funds from a recently passed pair of measures that are slated to bring in nearly $1 billion to district schools.

Pasadena Unified did not immediately respond to an email from CalMatters.

A ‘heartbreaking’ reality

Stacy Connor, head of Odyssey’s parent association, said the Eaton fire was the most terrifying experience of her life.  She and her family had to evacuate their home in Pasadena at 4 a.m., as 100 mph winds howled and flames roared a block away.

She and her husband and two children spent a few days at a church in Glendale before moving in with family for 10 days. Their house survived, but barely. Half the roof burned off, the siding was scorched and nearly all the contents were destroyed by smoke and ash.

Now, she’s spending her days haggling with the insurance company and replacing items lost to the fire. She’s also facing the “heartbreaking” reality that she may have to find a new school for her 9-year-old daughter. 

“Every single staff member at that school knew every single child. They truly loved children,” said Connor, who spent countless hours volunteering at Odyssey. “It was such an inclusive community where everyone felt welcome. I don’t know if we can replace that.”

Doubling down on mental health

Founded in 1999, not long after California legalized charter schools, Odyssey serves about 850 students on two campuses. (The other campus was not damaged in the fire). Odyssey South is ethnically diverse, reflecting the demographics of Altadena – about 30% Latino, 45% white and the rest a mix of Black, Asian and people who identify as more than one race. About a third are low-income. Students perform well above the state average in math and reading, and there’s typically a waiting list for enrollment. 

The school has a strong focus on social-emotional learning, an approach that will help students and staff recover from the trauma of the fires, Brimecombe said. Students are used to talking about their feelings, listening to their classmates and supporting each other. 

“In a way, we are ready for this kind of a situation. Resiliency is already built into our core values; we know how to come back,” Brimecombe said. “But it’s going to be tough. We’re going to need to double down to provide all the mental health support our students will need.”

The most immediate need was finding a place for students to go now. A few days after the fire, the local Boys & Girls Club offered to provide all-day care for the students, where they’ve been playing and talking and spending time together in a low-stress atmosphere. More importantly, parents can return to work and tend to insurance and rebuilding efforts.   

Within a week, the school planned a community event for families in San Gabriel, which is about 10 miles away but was less affected by wildfire smoke.

“We wanted to get everybody back to see each other’s faces. Have a minute to cry together,” Brimecombe said. “Some kids may have lost everything, but they could say, ‘My friend is still here, their mom is still here, my teachers are still here.’ It helps to understand, it’s not all gone.”

It was such a success the school is planning a second event, this time with resources like therapy dogs for students, mental health counselors, meditation sessions and representatives from the Red Cross, insurance companies and FEMA.

Meanwhile, Brimecombe and her colleagues hope to find a temporary campus and reopen within the next few weeks. The sooner students can get into a routine and resume learning, the faster their recovery will be, she said. She and her staff have been working 18-hour days, toiling through exhaustion and stress. 

“It’s just been full force forward ever since the fire, but it’s up to us, right?” she said. “We need to do it for the kids, because they can’t do it for themselves. They need to see our faces. They need to know that beyond this awful thing they’re going through, we know them and we’re there for them.”

This was originally published on .

His neighbors said his house was burning down in the wildfires – along with his entire Altadena neighborhood of Los Angeles.

Aveson School of Leaders, which McFeat runs and where his kids attended school just three blocks from his house, was also burning.

Unable to sleep, Mcfeat drove away from his in-law’s house that he’d been evacuated to and made the drive back to Altadena.

He drove through the fire lines and into his neighborhood to see if he could salvage anything, save anyone, or put out the fires that had raged on the east side for more than 48 hours straight, and decimated the Palisades in the west. 

He was greeted with a scene out of a horror movie. Fueled by a violent windstorm and piles of brush left from a particularly wet winter last year, the firestorm was like a tornado shooting flames, blasting through his neighborhood.

“It was like driving through a bomb scene,” said Mcfeat. “There were homes exploding. I probably shouldn’t have been there.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

Despite the devastating losses, Mcfeat can’t imagine not rebuilding his home and school right where they were in Altadena. But the road to recovery will be a long and painful one.

“No doubt about it. We are going to rebuild,” said Mcfeat. Aveson . At this point, a new site for the school has not been identified. The district hasn’t been able to help them yet.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” said Mcfeat.

The wildfires that burned Los Angeles this month are , displacing more than 150,000 residents and killing at least 25 people. Two massive blazes fed by windstorms, the Palisades Fire and the Eaton Fire, simultaneously scorched the city from the sea to the mountains, filling the air with vast plumes of ash and smoke.

As the wind and flames began to retreat last week, and firefighters gained control of the fires, schools began to reopen. And the kids began to return to class.

The Los Angeles Unified School District, which is by far the largest district of about 80 in Los Angeles County,  after being totally closed since last Thursday. Seven schools remain shut because they’re located in evacuation zones. Another three won’t reopen because their buildings were badly burned or destroyed in the fires.  

Dozens of much smaller districts in Los Angeles County also reopened this week, with the exceptions of two districts, , which encompasses Altadena, and , which neighbors Altadena to the west. 

The Eaton fire has destroyed at least five schools but was mostly contained by Friday. 

Kids from two of the LAUSD schools that burned in the Palisades, Marquez Charter Elementary School and Palisades Charter Elementary School, were placed, with intact school rosters, in close-ish LAUSD school buildings that already had other schools in them.

The students who attended the burned schools were given their own entrances, classrooms and courtyards for kids to play. When parents dropped them off at class this week, there were a lot of tearful reunions.

Families from Palisades Charter were somber, but excited to return to normalcy with their new space located inside of Brentwood Science Magnet School.  

Joseph Koshki, a parent from the Palisades whose son attends third grade at Palisades Charter, walked holding hands with his son to their new classroom at Brentwood Science, which had been stacked with balloons.

“When he saw his school burned on the news he was crying for days,” Koshki said of his child. “But when he heard that he was going to his new school with his old friends, he was so happy”.

Nina Belden, a parent of a Palisades Charter student who had made an emergency evacuation from her house in the Palisades with her family, said it was important for the students at her daughter’s school to stay together and receive in-person instruction.

“We were worried they were going to do something like remote learning,” said Beldon.

, which also burned in the Palisades fire, has a long history in the community, having opened in 1955 when the Palisades still had a frontier feel, before the neighborhood became a favorite of Hollywood stars and media execs.

For Victoria Flores, who works as a paraeducator at Marquez, the school is part of her family. Flores went to Marquez when she was in elementary school, and her mother works in the cafeteria.

“It was my home away from home. We are devastated by what happened,” Flores said.

But Flores said she and the rest of the staff were glad to be relocated together at a LAUSD school called Nora Sterry, about ten miles from the burned Marquez campus.

“We are a really close family,” said Flores. “That’s helped us a lot.”

Upstairs at Nora Sterry, Clare Gardner’s class had about eight of twenty students show up on the first day of relocation.

Her third-grade class was playing with clay and Mrs. Gardner, who is a twenty-seven-year veteran of Marquez, held back her tears as she helped students arrive into class.

“We always call it the Marquez family,” Gardner said as the children greeted each other.

One boy in Mrs. Gardner’s class said he was happy to be around his friends and teacher but sad about his classroom fish and books, which were lost in the fire.

Later in the morning, LAUSD Superintendent Alberto Carvalho went to visit parents at Nora Sterry.

After nearly a week off school, Carvalho says attendance is still below normal.

“I think where that attendance is lacking is in schools that were directly affected” by the fires, Carvalho said.

Also hurting attendance, Carvalho said, is the fact that many families are enduring temporary relocations, while others lack stable housing entirely.

LAUSD staff attendance is back to normal, he said, while student attendance is about 88% — down , representing about 10,000 fewer students than normal.

 â€œAs conditions of the families begin to normalize and stabilize, those [attendance] numbers will rise,” said Carvalho.

For other schools in other areas of Los Angeles, recovery may be longer in the making. 

Bonnie Brinecomb, principal of  in Altadena, which burned to the ground in the Eaton Fire, estimates that the homes of 40% of the students enrolled in the school also burned.

Families and school staffers are scrambling to ensure displaced families have food, shelter and clothing, Brinecomb said. Some students are turning up for daycare at a nearby Boys and Girls Club that offered to take them in.  

Brinecomb said Odyssey has partnered with McFeat’s school Aveson to search for new facilities. But the double loss of students’ homes and the schools’ campuses is a gutpunch.  

“It’s just heartbreak. Pure shock,” she said. “You don’t even process how bad of a situation just happened.”

Like Aveson, Odyssey has  and Brinecomb says the school will rebuild. How long that will take, though, remains an open question.  

From the perspective of displaced children and families, the faster things return to normal, the better, said Dr. Frank Manis, professor emeritus of psychology at the University of Southern California. 

The experience of trauma can intensify if routines are disrupted for longer periods, and the intensity of the disruption matters as well, said Manis. Kids who lost their homes to fires may have a harder time bouncing back than those who only lost their schools, he said.    

“It’s sort of on that spectrum of wartime PTSD, but not as bad,” said Manis. “So what it could lead to is nightmares, difficulty sleeping, and emotional or behavior problems that can last for quite a while.”

Children fighting post-traumatic stress from the fires may become withdrawn, or act out in class, said Manis. But mostly, he said, the  shows that even children badly impacted by the fires may begin to feel normal within a few months. 

“Kids are pretty resilient,” said Manis. “But trauma can disappear for a while, and then it can resurface later. When everyone’s forgotten how bad it was, it can resurface.”&˛Ô˛ú˛őąč;

Carlos Garcia Saldaña drove past block after block of homes, businesses, and churches “wiped off the face of the earth.” The Eaton fire that had consumed large parts of Altadena was still burning in the San Gabriel Mountains. The charter network leader needed to see what remained of his schools.

As Garcia SaldaĂąa approached Odyssey Charter School South, the facade and main entrance appeared intact. But as he looked left and up the hill, he saw a heap of twisted metal and charred rubble where, two days earlier, there had been classrooms, offices, lunch tables, play structures, and an after-school clubhouse. The tree stumps where students used to sit and eat and dream were still smoldering.

“It’s just jarring and heartbreaking,” Garcia Saldaña said.

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Over the past week, wind-whipped wildfires reshaped wide swaths of Los Angeles, and destroying more than 12,000 structures. A dozen or more . The danger is not yet past, with fires only partially contained and high winds forecast through Wednesday.

Hundreds of thousands of students were out of school last week as more than announced temporary closures due to poor air quality, shifting evacuation orders, and the many , , and who had lost their homes.

On Tuesday, California Gov. Gavin Newsom issued suspending many state rules governing schools to make it easier for schools to operate in temporary buildings and for students to enroll across district lines, as well as waiving requirements about instructional days.

In the Los Angeles Unified School District, the nation’s second-largest, a handful of schools in areas still under evacuation orders, including three that were neighborhood, remained closed early this week. The district announced that students from two ravaged Palisades elementary schools Wednesday from other district buildings on the city’s west side.

Santa Monica-Malibu Unified opened its Santa Monica campuses on Tuesday but kept schools in Malibu closed through Wednesday due to road closures and power and gas outages. Many local families have had to evacuate because of the proximity to the , and the district for affected families. Santa Monica-Malibu Unified also said it was monitoring air quality and that its facilities had air filtration systems in place.

In Pasadena Unified, the Eaton Fire, which started on Jan. 7, badly damaged five of its Altadena campuses, which housed a district middle school (whose student-led ), a defunct elementary school, and three charters, including Odyssey South, known as OCS South. Pasadena Unified said its schools will remain closed through this week but that it will offer self-directed online learning and grab-and-go meal service.

Close-knit community faces widespread losses

Now Garcia Saldaña’s days are consumed with checking on the many families and staff who lost their homes and looking for a space where students could return to school as soon as possible.

Odyssey operates two Altadena charter schools, OCS South and Odyssey Charter, the network’s original school, which sustained minimal damage — some downed trees and smoke residue. The charter network, founded in 1999, now serves a total of 830 students in transitional kindergarten through 8th grade.

OCS South opened its doors in 2018 and relocated to its current location, on the grounds of the former Edison Elementary School, three years ago. Since then, the Odyssey community has set out to make the campus its own — painting murals, planting gardens, and replacing old play structures.

Over the weekend, Garcia Saldaña sent a video message to families describing the damage to buildings at the two campuses. Odyssey Charter will require a major clean-up; the OCS South location was a near-total loss. But Odyssey isn’t about buildings, he said in the video, but about “the community that makes us such a special and unique place that we all love so much.”

Emmanuel Barragan, a father of three OCS South students, echoed that point as he dropped off his daughter and two sons at the Boys & Girls Club of Pasadena on Monday. School leaders know the name of every single child and what they need, he said, noting, “Sometimes, it almost feels like the school is a co-parent.”

Odyssey partnered with the Boys & Girls Club to offer free child care this week. The club also alerted other local schools that its doors would be open this week to any school-age child in need of a safe place to be. The clubhouse was providing all-day programming, including arts and crafts, sports, and educational games, and waiving its drop-in fee.

More than 200 students had arrived by mid-morning on Monday. Garcia SaldaĂąa, better known to students as Dr. Carlos, was at the door to greet Odyssey families. He offered hugs as students made their way inside, and he checked in with caregivers about their housing status.

A survey of Odyssey’s roughly 650 families had yielded more than 300 responses, with 83 student households reporting “full loss of home & belongings.” Others said they didn’t yet know the condition of their home. Four Odyssey employees, including the Odyssey Charter principal, also lost homes in the fire, Garcia Saldaña said.

Altadena native Marcellus Nunley evacuated with his family around 3:45 a.m. on Jan. 8. Within hours, their home was gone. “Everything melted” was how his 5-year-old son, an Odyssey Charter kindergartener, put it. Nunley dropped off his son at the Boys & Girls Club so he could spend the day managing the logistics of a family displaced by fire: calling the mortgage company, reaching out to the county tax assessor, and procuring all of the little life necessities he hadn’t given much thought to until they went up in flames.

The losses are exacerbated by Altadena residents’ love for their neighborhood, with its charming bungalows and craftsman homes, picturesque hiking trails, and beloved local businesses. “Altadena is a diverse community, which is wonderful. It’s a walking community, it’s a dog walking community, it’s town and country,” Nunley said. “It’s a great melting pot of society.”

Before the Eaton Fire, about 42,000 people resided in Altadena. Many Black families who faced housing discrimination in other Los Angeles neighborhoods in the 1960s. Today, Black residents make up about 18% of the population. Roughly a third of Altadena residents are Hispanic, about 40% are white, and there are many Asian American and biracial families.

The Odyssey student body reflects the community’s racial diversity. It’s also economically diverse, with about 30% qualifying for free or reduced-price lunch, according to Garcia Saldaña.

Caitlin Reilly’s two sons, 10-year-old Townes and 8-year-old Ellar, are students at OCS South. When the Eaton Fire forced another Odyssey family to evacuate early on Jan. 8, they drove to the house Reilly shares with her partner and kids, located in a section of Pasadena outside of an evacuation zone.

For the next four days, the four adults and four children huddled together in the two-bedroom, one-bathroom home. The kids had an epic sleepover, and the parents stared at their devices, searching for the latest news about the fires engulfing Los Angeles.

Meanwhile, Odyssey families connected on social media and text chains, offering up what they could and asking for what they needed, Reilly said. They arranged indoor playdates so kids could be together without breathing the smoke-filled air. They replaced baseball bats and gloves for Little League players who had lost theirs to fire, and they organized backpack and supply drives. The school launched a to support recovery efforts.

Fire’s devastation leaves uncertainty about next steps

The evacuated family’s Altadena house is still standing, but their badly damaged neighborhood remained under evacuation orders this week. They secured a temporary rental, but Reilly fears that many local families who lost homes will have a hard time finding a place to stay.

“The fear is that it will be like Katrina,” she said. The 2005 hurricane devastated New Orleans, damaged or destroyed , and . “We’re worried that we’ll lose so many families that are part of the community because there is nowhere to house them.”

That would hit Odyssey hard, given the closeness of its community and the fact that its funding is tied to its enrollment numbers.

“There’s been cheerleading about cleaning up and rebuilding, but as far as logistically what comes next, I don’t think anyone knows yet,” said Reilly, who serves on the Odyssey Charter Schools board.

Mary Scott, whose 10-year-old son, Charlie, attends OCS South, also fears dwindling enrollment at Odyssey. “The reality is, these aren’t all well-off families, and now they have to find a place to rent and rebuild while also having to pay their mortgages,” she said. “I do worry about the families that have to relocate. It would be a tremendous loss.”

Odyssey leadership acknowledges how much remains unknown: when schools will reopen in person, where classes will be held, how many families will stay local and how many will resettle elsewhere, and the extent to which the network will need to rely on remote learning.

Scott, for one, said she’s hoping to avoid remote learning because it was so difficult during COVID school closures when her son was in kindergarten and first grade. But if she had to choose between online schooling and leaving OCS South, she said would likely stay put because “I don’t want to abandon our community.”

Garcia Saldaña said the COVID years taught him a lot about what works for online learning (shorter lessons, movement breaks) and what doesn’t (asking kids to sit still for two to three hours at a time). But he’s mostly focused on finding a temporary physical location so students can return in person as soon as possible.

At the same time, he’s still figuring out the availability of Odyssey’s 115 employees, many of whom remain displaced, and asking teachers to reach out to each of their students.

“It’s about having a familiar voice on the other end of the line saying, ‘What do you need? How is your family?’” he said. “We are all human, first and foremost.”

This was originally published by . Chalkbeat is a nonprofit news site covering educational change in public schools. .