stephen Osaman LA Times.jpg

Photo credit: Stephen Osman; LA Times.

At this point, the winds are dying down and the southland is cautiously hopeful that they have the upper hand on what is sure to be California’s worst fire storm. In fact, you can sense the shift in the tone of the media covering the fires. Now, the blame game begins. Questions about biodiversity and the encroachment of humans on unique habitats are already starting to appear. Even as millions face evacuations, the recriminations are flying. “Humans are at fault,” declares one actress. Fire victims “get what they deserve,” snarks another comedian. (google it, I’m not giving these sentiments any more space.) And the apparent wealth of the area makes many wonder about applying the word “victim” in this situation; the underlying current being that the rich have it coming or are undeserving of our compassion.

I have stayed glued to the LA Times since Malibu began burning. As disturbing as the images of blowing ash, raging fires, and burned out cars might be, I find the burgeoning sentiment toward the citizens of the southland far more chilling. There will be time to lay blame and discuss the very important realities of increased growth in one of California’s most biodiverse areas. While half a million people are displaced, living with family and friends if they’re lucking, living in stadiums if they are not—this is not that time. Nor is it time when thousands of fire fighters are still facing down the flames of a fire storm the proportions of which have never been seen. No, there will come a time when conversations will need to be had. By the people who remain, by the people who live there, by the people affected.

But never, never will it be time to deny the humanity of another human being. Never. The net worth of a human being should not determine our compassion for their suffering. And there is little doubt in my mind, that as these homes burn, their owners are indeed suffering. These are their homes. Their memories, their possessions, and in some cases, their livelihoods. Does it really matter if they built in a bad location? Does it really matter how much they spent on it? Must they really have to have less than we do, for us to acknowledge their suffering?

When I look at the photos, I don’t see L.A. on fire. I see real lives burning.