Augusta Robbins and her family have been hopping between temporary housing for the last three weeks or so.
When the smell of smoke crept into their family home on January 7th, the second grader was playing laser tag. Now, not only has Augusta lost her home, but most of her school is gone, too.
"I really miss my friends, my teachers and playing soccer," she says. That soccer field is now covered with toxins and ash.
Thinking about all that loss makes Augusta anxious. "And then I just go off and draw because it makes me feel better when I do that," she says. She pulls out a drawing she had just completed. "I've been drawing houses lately a lot. I always draw a new house every day."
A vital part of the community
Augusta's mother, Jennifer O'Kaine, says her children's school, Odyssey Charter School-South, has been the center of her children's universe. She says while losing their home was unimaginable, it was when she realized some schools had burned that she began to grasp the scale of the destruction.
"Then, I realized, anything could go. Like, if you let a school go, I mean, that is the heart of the community."
The family had rented in Altadena for several years, and finally bought a home there in 2023. "It's a really special school," she says, "and a part of our moving to that house was we were like three minutes from the school."
O'Kaine has been heavily involved with the Odyssey-South—she's vice president of its parent association. "With just some other incredible parents. I spent about the last three years since the pandemic bringing art and enrichment and field trips to the school … because they did not have it."
She's quick to say she can't take too much credit, because uplifting the school has been a community-wide effort. Now, she fears all that progress is gone. "It's hard to know what to rebuild around when some of the most vital parts are gone."
Pasadena Unified School District (PUSD), which houses many of the public and charter schools in the Pasadena and Altadena areas, has never dealt with a crisis like this. More than 10,000 students and nearly 1,400 employees were in evacuation zones during the fires. In some cases, families have had to evacuate outside of Los Angeles County, and even out of state.
"What will this do to fragment the population?" wonders Natalie Daily, the librarian at Octavia E. Butler Magnet School, which is part of PUSD. "What is this going to do to our enrollment? [That seems] like almost a callous thing to even think about," she says.
Daily is grateful her beloved, century-old school is still standing. But she worries about the long-term impact these fires will have on public schools like Octavia E. Butler Magnet, whose existence in the area has been hard-fought.
"This was a district that was gutted by redlining tactics and integration issues that led to white flight. These schools … have been through multiple phases of coming back," says Sandy Roffman, whose daughter Indie goes to Odyssey. As part of a multi-ethnic family, she says it was important to raise her children in a community as diverse as Altadena, and to send them to public school.
Jason Trapp, an instructional coach at Octavia E. Butler Magnet, is Roffman's neighbor—or at least he was until he lost his house. He and his family moved here several years ago with a similar ideal in mind. "Altadena is a beautiful mix of racial diversity, ethnic diversity, religious diversity, linguistic diversity," he says. "Different family histories that all converge in one place."
Trapp and Roffman's homes were just a few blocks from each other. Their kids would carpool to school, and they became good friends over the years. But Trapp's house was burned to the ground. Somehow, Roffman says, theirs is still standing, although it may be months before they can return.
Roffman's daughter Indie, like so many of her peers, knows just what it's like to have her education disrupted.
"It kind of gives me flashbacks to COVID and I'm, like, kind of about to go insane," she told me a few days after the fire. "I was supposed to be stressing about a nine-page paper that was due, but instead I'm stressing about my neighborhood and how the fire went through and how it's just like, gone."
For many young Angelenos like Indie, there's no innocent joy in being out of school—for these kids, school feels like a lifeline. "I"m missing routine, to be honest," she says. "I'm supposed to be getting my grades up." Instead, she's displaced, and yearning to return to school so she can see her friends again and get back to learning.
Pasadena Unified is opening schools in phases. Indie Roffman was eager to learn that Octavia E. Butler Magnet was on the list, though her mom says Indie is less excited about having that nine-page paper finally due.
Second grader Augusta and her brother, Jaxson, who's in 5th grade, have to be patient yet. With no school to return to, district officials have offered to house the students of Odyssey Charter at an alternative campus. But some parents, including Jennifer O'Kaine, consider the proposed location too close to the burn-zone.
After a contentious meeting between families and the district last week, O'Kaine said, "the [proposed] campus is surrounded by destruction and rubble. As you might imagine, parents were flabbergasted at the offer." PUSD did not respond to requests for comment.
For families and school leaders, there's a lot to consider. And these kinds of difficult conversations may have to continue for months—maybe years.
Jason Trapp is doing his best to be present for his school community and students while also figuring out next steps for his own family.
As he stood outside Octavia E. Butler Magnet, he noted that the historic school sits atop the highest point in Pasadena. "It's visible from many different parts of the city," he says. "A beacon of hope, of what's to come next."
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