As a Floridian, I thought I had experienced it all (hurricanes, red tide, a panther in my backyard, just to name a few). And being an out-of-state student who has learned to adapt to my new environment at the University of California, Los Angeles, I’m no stranger to figuring things out as I go. However, nothing could’ve prepared me (or anyone) for the record-breaking fires that ravaged Los Angeles at the start of 2025.Â
On Tuesday, Jan. 7, news of a fire in the Pacific Palisades began populating my X feed. To be honest, at this point, the situation was just a headline on my screen. The Palisades are pretty far from UCLA’s campus — quite literally, the issue wasn’t hitting close to home yet.Â
However, the situation rapidly grew worse throughout the day. It’s hard for me to pinpoint exactly when the panic set in, but suddenly, other fires were breaking out in areas besides the Palisades. My quick scans of social media in passing turned to compulsive checks of the Watch Duty app (a platform that gives wildfire map updates). Soon, there were fires on both sides of UCLA’s campus, rapidly growing. Once I looked out of my dorm window and saw red and gray smoke filling the sky in the distance, I knew things were getting serious.
Why were we all carrying on as if everything was business as usual?Â
I started obsessively rotating between Watch Duty, Instagram, and my school’s subreddit for updates. Surely the school’s administration would make some kind of announcement soon, right? My social feeds were flooded with videos of beloved homes and schools burnt to the ground. Why were we all carrying on as if everything was business as usual?Â
Finally, the next morning, my doom scrolling (I couldn’t focus on school at that point) was interrupted by an email from my university, the first mass communication students received about the fire. “Campus is open for classes and regular operations” it said. The email also boasted that the air quality on campus was “considered good.” Reddit users providing screenshots of metrics showing the area’s poor air quality begged to differ.Â
Something that struck me about the situation was how much information and resources were coming directly from my peers.
As I continued to worry, something that struck me about the situation was how much information and resources were coming directly from my peers. Student-led organizations distributed masks to protect against air pollution. Infographics and updates were shared across group chats and social media. It was at the suggestions of my fellow students that I packed a “go-bag,” a backpack with my essentials, in case I had to evacuate quickly. I later learned that my school was, in fact, providing resources to help students, but that information wasn’t easy to find, and therefore, amid the uncertainty and rapidly changing scenarios, it’s like it didn’t exist. Plus, these resources didn’t make it clear what students should do in the case of an evacuation — something I, as an out-of-state student, was most confused about. Â
When my school finally announced it was canceling classes on Jan. 9 and 10, students’ parents flooded in to drive them home. Unfortunately, a car ride home for many of us out-of-staters just wasn’t an option. I have no family in California (or on this entire side of the country, for that matter). The nearest house I could retreat to was a five-hour plane ride away. I had no idea if my school would help me find a place to go or if I was on my own — all I knew was that it was time for me to get out of there.
Ultimately, as the fires grew worse, my family helped me book a last-minute one-way flight home. (As you might imagine, last-minute plane tickets are not cheap, and I couldn’t book a return flight at the time, since I had no clue when it would be safe to come back.) My ticket only allowed me to bring a personal item that would fit under the seat, so I packed my backpack to the brim with spare contacts, my laptop, and some clothes. I told myself that I’d just figure out all my other necessities when I got home.Â
Despite the notorious chaos of LAX, I felt my body relax as soon as I stepped into the airport. But my heart still ached for the out-of-state and international students who couldn’t buy a flight back on such short notice. How was the school accounting for them? What was being done to help them navigate all this and find the resources they needed?
Eventually, UCLA did send out evacuation information, detailing where students should go in the case of an emergency. However, I did not get an email with this information until Jan. 11, after many students had already left campus due to the growing intensity of the fires. For many, this alert came too late to allow us to plan, as we had to take matters into our own hands.Â
I am thankful that there is such an amazing community of students at UCLA, one that helps each other in times of need.
In summary, what they don’t tell you about evacuating from an unprecedented disaster as an out-of-state college student is that you don’t know what you don’t know — until you realize what you need to know. Despite my school providing plenty of in-case-of-emergency resources for students, as someone who’s never had to evacuate due to a fire (or even really think about that possibility before), I didn’t realize how unprepared I’d feel. That said, when I think about this whole saga, the feeling that surpasses all others is gratitude. I am thankful that there is such an amazing community of students at UCLA, one that helps each other in times of need. The students were all there for each other, as they shared information and updates and lent helping hands. It was thanks to my community at school that I was able to navigate such an uncertain time, and I’m so glad to call this place my home (far) away from home.