Rebuilding from the Ashes: Southern California’s Struggle for Equitable Fire Recovery
By: Matt Scribner
Introduction
When people think of California, they often picture beaches, Hollywood, and the Golden Gate Bridge. But for millions of people across the state, California has become synonymous with something much darker: devastating wildfires. From 2013 to 2023 alone, nearly 100,000 different fires tore through the state, burning more than 14 million acres. Behind those numbers are families who lost homes, jobs, and entire communities in what felt like the blink of an eye.
However, the damage from these blazes is not spread evenly. Wealthier, mostly white neighborhoods have more resources to prepare for wildfires and bounce back after them. Meanwhile, low-income and minority communities are left with fewer tools to protect themselves and longer, harder recoveries when disaster hits.
That disparity is not just an unfortunate accident. It’s rooted in centuries of discriminatory policies, economic inequality, and political neglect. With wildfires expected to continue to ravage the state in the coming years as climate change continues to show its harmful effects, the time to change this reality is now. If California doesn’t take bold steps to change this reality, wildfires will keep fueling another kind of destruction: displacement and gentrification.
A History of Unequal Exposure
The wildfire crisis for minority communities didn’t appear overnight. Native Americans in particular have been made disproportionately vulnerable by forced relocation. Pushed onto remote, rural reservations, often in some of the most fire-prone parts of the state, Native tribes are six times more likely to live in extreme wildfire zones. Studies show they’ve been exposed to far more smoke than the average Californian, and it wasn’t by choice.
To make matters worse, the very fire management techniques Native communities developed centuries ago, small, controlled “cultural burns” that reduce fuel and encourage biodiversity, were outlawed for decades by state and federal agencies. Ironically, those same agencies now acknowledge controlled burning is one of the most effective strategies to prevent catastrophic fires. Tribal nations still face legal obstacles to practicing cultural burns, leaving them caught between outdated policies and escalating risks.
In California’s cities, the story looks different but leads to the same result. Decades of housing segregation and discriminatory zoning have forced Black, Hispanic, and Asian communities into areas already overburdened with pollution. Factories and freeways are disproportionately located near minority neighborhoods, compounding respiratory health problems. Outdoor work in sectors like agriculture and construction further increases exposure to smoke. Meanwhile, wealthier white residents often work indoors and can more easily shield themselves from dangerous air.
The bottom line: whether rural or urban, minority communities are starting at a disadvantage. They face more risk from the start and fewer resources when disaster strikes.
Two Fires, Two Realities
The January 2025 wildfires in Los Angeles put this disparity into sharp focus. The Palisades Fire tore through Pacific Palisades, an ocean-view enclave where the median home price before the fire was $3.3 million and household incomes averaged $359,000. The fire caused $20–25 billion in damages, killing 12 people and destroying nearly 7,000 buildings.
On the eastern end of LA County, the Eaton Fire ripped through Altadena, a historically Black community where families fleeing the Jim Crow south once came to build generational wealth. Homes here averaged around $1 million, still expensive, but far less than the Palisades, and incomes were about a third of their westside counterparts. The fire destroyed more than 9,000 structures, killed 17 people, and caused up to $10 billion in damages.
On paper, both communities suffered devastating losses. However, each area’s recovery paths look quite different. Within months, Pacific Palisades residents were already securing fast-tracked building permits, backed by savings, insurance, and jobs that allowed residents to work indoors. Meanwhile, Altadena families, many of whom lost homes that took years of general wealth accumulation to purchase, faced far more difficult challenges in returning to normalcy following the tragedy. Additionally, many could simply not afford to rebuild, and relocated elsewhere.
What Needs to Change?
The question now is simple: how do we stop this cycle? How do we ensure that low-income and minority communities aren’t always the ones left gasping for air - literally and financially - after every wildfire season?
One clear step is subsidies. Fireproofing homes isn’t cheap. Retrofitting with fire-resistant materials, hiring landscapers to clear defensible space, and installing protective air systems can cost thousands. For families already living paycheck to paycheck, as the majority of Black households and a large share of Hispanic households do, it’s simply not possible. Offering subsidies to cover these costs would give vulnerable communities a fighting chance.
Another key piece is communication. In places like Altadena, nearly one third of households primarily speak a language other than English. Yet evacuation orders and disaster preparedness guides are often only provided in English. Ensuring that wildfire information is multilingual could mean the difference between life and death for thousands of families.
California also needs to think bigger. Investing in permanent clean air shelters and disaster housing, especially in communities like Altadena, would go a long way to remedy these issues. Temporary facilities like county fairgrounds aren’t enough. Dedicated, state-funded clean air centers built in repurposed industrial spaces or other safe zones could save lives and prevent long-term displacement. These centers could also double as community hubs for job training or social services when not in use for emergencies, making them a permanent investment in resilience.
Finally, addressing gentrification directly is crucial. When disaster strikes, renters and lower-income homeowners are the first to be displaced. Policies like inclusionary zoning - requiring a percentage of new housing to remain affordable - and programs to protect generational homeownership are necessary to stop wildfires from accelerating racial and economic inequality.
Conclusion
Wildfires aren’t going anywhere. Climate change has already increased the scale and intensity of fires across California, and projections suggest that both burned acreage and smoke exposure will keep climbing. The only question is whether the state is willing to adapt its response to protect everyone, not just the wealthy.
California prides itself on diversity, progressivism, and innovation. But when it comes to wildfires, the test is whether it will extend that pride to the communities most at risk. That means recognizing the unequal burden minority and low-income families carry and putting policies in place to change it.