Hey everyone, let’s talk about something that’s been hitting close to home for a lot of people—literally. California has been battling wildfires of staggering proportions. Lives have been uprooted, homes have turned to ash, and entire communities face unimaginable loss. Yet when you switch on the TV or open up social media, what do we see? Headlines fixated on which celebrity’s mansion has gone up in flames, or drone shots of some star’s luxury estate. It feels like the media has lost sight of the bigger picture—and honestly, people are kind of over it.

Now, I get that it’s big news when famous folks have to evacuate. But here’s the deal: they often have the resources to rebuild. Insurance, big bank accounts, second (or third) homes. Meanwhile, the everyday person who’s scraping by in the City of Angels might not even know where their next paycheck is coming from, let alone how they’ll afford to rebuild. With Southern California’s cost of living already sky-high, these fires aren’t just destroying property; they’re shattering dreams. The “Hollywood dream” that’s lured countless people for decades? For many, that dream is quickly morphing into a full-blown nightmare.

We’ve also got a real empathy gap happening. Some folks respond with a shrug, saying things like, “Well, you chose to live there,” as though anyone can simply snap their fingers and relocate. Come on. These are people’s hometowns. Their kids go to school there. Their loved ones are buried nearby. You can’t just uproot everything because of the possibility of a disaster. If we took that stance for every place on Earth, we’d never settle anywhere.

And then there’s the politicizing of this tragedy—pointing fingers at politicians, policies, or entire states. Yes, eventually we should talk about accountability and how to prevent fires from getting this catastrophic. But is the midst of a crisis really the best time for that? Right now, what truly matters is coming together as neighbors, as Americans, and just as human beings. When your neighbor’s home is burning down, you don’t argue over who is to blame; you rush to help them. That’s the core of “love thy neighbor,” and it’s what we need most.

Beyond that, let’s show some compassion. No matter how famous or wealthy someone is, losing your home is a shock unlike any other—one moment, you have your safe space, your memories, your family treasures; the next, it’s all gone. Even if you resent the super-rich for their privilege, celebrating their loss is a slippery slope of bitterness that doesn’t help anyone. There are better ways to address inequality and inequity than wishing disaster on others. We can hold celebrities and influencers accountable for how they use (or misuse) their platforms, sure—but nobody deserves to lose the roof over their head.

And speaking of platforms, the media can certainly shift its lens to focus on the real heroes and the real victims in these scenarios. Firefighters, first responders, volunteers—these are the people on the front lines. The families staying in shelters, not knowing what tomorrow holds for them. The single mom praying the wind shifts in her favor. These are the stories that should be at the forefront. When all is said and done, these folks are our backbone, the heart and soul of any community.

Let’s be honest: a lot of us grew up glamorizing Hollywood’s bright lights. We remember the closing lines of Pretty Woman—“Welcome to Hollywood! Everybody who comes to Hollywood’s got a dream. What’s your dream?” For some, that dream was making it in showbiz; for others, it was simply living in a place that offered sunshine and possibility. But that same sunshine has turned scorching, and the flames are a stark reminder that life can change in an instant, no matter your status.

So, what can we do? If you have the means, donate to reputable relief organizations. Share verified fundraisers for families in need. If you’re close by, offer a helping hand—clean clothes, a place to stay, a warm meal. If you pray, pray for them. If you can’t do any of those, even spreading the word on social media helps raise awareness that real people are suffering.

Above all, remember that disasters like these don’t care about your income bracket, political leanings, or how many Instagram followers you have. They hit hard and they take no prisoners. Our job is to respond with empathy, compassion, and unity. Let’s ditch the divisiveness for a moment and show people what it really means to be a neighbor, a friend, and an American.

Because if we lost everything we owned—our homes, our keepsakes, the memories made in those four walls—wouldn’t we want someone to care about us as more than just a headline? Let’s do better. We owe it to each other.