Notes on empathy in times of catastrophe
With love to LA, what's giving me hope, and specific ways to assist from afar (with a Keanu Reeves special gift if you do)
Jenny! Mike! Sarah! Sam! Come on, everybody up! I need you to help clean up the mess that is 2025!
There I was last Wednesday, excited to publish my Election Day conversation with Shrinking’s Jessica Williams as the first big issue of the year.
But woman plans, and the universe laughs; hysterically, these days, it seems. Call me soft, but it didn’t feel appropriate to post such a thing while watching Jessica evacuating her home on Instagram Stories.
The Southern California wildfires have been devastating, full stop. If you’ve been affected, my heart is with yours. The hand you’ve been dealt is terrible, and the Modern Loss community stands ready to support you.
I am not an Angeleno. But I love LA. Have ever since my mom’s friend, Jackie, and her husband, Glenn (the former Department of Medicine chair at Cedars-Sinai) took me to a 12th birthday celebration taping of Dear John, then to buy a Camp Beverly Hills sweatshirt (which I barely took off for the entirety of eighth grade), and finally to Spago, where Sean Connery flatly refused my nervous request for an autograph the adjacent table (frankly, not so nice!)
The majority of my non-New York-based people are concentrated there. It’s impossible to look away as they continue to share raw experiences on social media and in a carousel of personal phone and text check-ins. Just a few examples of the scale of impact merely from people in my own life:
In a "Doomsday Preppers” post, Kristen Bartlett (writer and supervising producer for Hulu’s How to Die Alone) went deep into the fear and danger of the level of misinformation spreading about.
Zibby Owens documented the haunting security camera footage of the fire that might imminently consume her Palisades home.
My college best friend hasn’t been able to stop doing surgeries and delivering babies at Cedars-Sinai (some from people whose homes are now ash) while watching enormous plumes of smoke blanketing the sky.
A therapist friend shared on the phone that she stress-cut her hair (poorly) at home and is in disagreement with her husband over whether some of their precious car evacuation space should house blankets and comfort items over “practical” things.
My cousin’s texts from Topanga Canyon, initially long and detailed a few days ago, have become increasingly shorter and tenser.
Gabi, my Modern Loss website cofounder, is driving around West Hollywood with all of her kids’ artwork in the trunk…just in case.
A dear friend from Columbia Journalism School, Melia, posted a selfie with two other friends in front of a burning house, on a burning block in Altadena, after packing the few salvageable belongings and after firefighters had told them there was no way to save the house. She does not want you to think they sound crazy in doing something so seemingly twisted, and they’re not. They did the only thing they had agency over doing.
All of this is grief, with trauma to boot. With that in mind…
![With my cousin Melinda at Point Dune](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5027e004-5728-4648-bc5f-41a2b183cb1f_1301x1733.jpeg)
![With my cousin Melinda at Point Dune](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F10cf88a1-ccb5-430c-9ca5-77fd67a0a996_1320x1059.jpeg)
A note on empathy in the wake of catastrophe:
In moments like these, communal empathy is essential in helping people to move through something that they probably never imagined they’d endure. Yet, I’ve seen a handful of comments online like “they can always get another house,” or “at least they’re alive,” or “these are just a bunch of wealthy people” (they aren’t), or “now their lives are unburdened by things” (come on with this last one…just…no).
While these may come from good intentions, as with most platitudes, they miss the deeper truth: A home is more than walls and belongings. A home, be it owned or rented, is a character in and witness to our life — our joys, struggles, fears, feats, and quiet, everyday moments that in fact weave together the fabric of our days.
Losing that kind of anchor is a profound grief; one that shakes your sense of safety and self. It leaves deep scars in individuals, families, displaced communities, and from livelihoods upended. And many readers who aren’t in the LA area are surely having their own grief triggers from this awful news cycle. So, let’s not dismiss this pain. Instead, let’s meet it with compassion. By acknowledging the depth of someone’s loss, we help them to carry it and remind them that they aren’t alone.
The best part? Acknowledgment is free and easy to give. Go forth and be generous with it — including with yourself, wherever you are, and with whatever you’re dealing with. There is enough space in the world to hold all of our hard things.
Things that are giving me hope, from glimmers to bursts:
Selfless offers from people such as my friend Yassir Lester (creator of the bowling comedy The Gutter and frequent Modern Loss contributor), who owns every tool under the sun and offered to personally help people in demolishing what needs to be taken down, repairing, renovating, and rebuilding.
Altadena Girls, created a mere few days ago by an 8th grader to help restore normalcy for the teenage victims of the wildfires by collecting the things they *really need for mental health, such as skincare products, makeup, and clothes that make them feel like themselves. This 14 year old and her now thousands-strong crew are doing more effective disaster relief work than most elected officials.
Pasadena Humane, which is boarding, evacuating, and treating hundreds of absolutely terrified, burned, and frequently lost and left behind animals from the Eaton fire. This one hurts.
A ceasefire and hostage-release in Gaza (the enormity of which belies the one-sentence description, though I’ll be holding my breath for a while with this one).
Homes in Memoriam, a collective of artists returning even the smallest piece of what was lost by creating free visuals of homes destroyed in the fires.
This form for people who can offer free childcare in the coming months to families navigating the excruciating path to rebuilding their lives.
The LA Lost Stuffy Project, which is helping to replace lost and destroyed comfort items (just think about all the incinerated Knuffle Bunnies out there).
The amazing professionals offering pro-bono therapy to anyone directly affect by the fires.
The fact that, at long last, I have video proof that Steve Guttenberg is a national treasure.
Things we can all do from afar right now:
- Donate, donate, donate, donate, donate, donate, donate to:
The above efforts or individual GoFundMes (there are thousands): this spreadsheet impressively breaks down displaced Black, Latino, disabled, as well as affected businesses
Any non-profit providing on-the-ground efforts
People and places through Amazon wish lists (a lot of schools are in great need) or by purchasing Target or other gift cards
- Give to your own community. You can’t fix it all, but you can fix something. When you feel overwhelmed and impotent, remember that you’re needed right where you are, and that leaning into community can help with a sense of loneliness and isolation. Invite someone else who’s going through a rough time to that cup of coffee, volunteer at your kid’s school lunch, register for an MLK Day volunteer project. Channeling those feelings into action can help us to deal with what is truly outside of our control.
- Take care of ourselves. If you’re noticing feelings of anxiety or other hard-to-manage things: move your body; remember to breathe (and also stop, pause, and feel the ground beneath your feet), do your go-to thing that calms you (cooking, running, listening to that playlist), reach out to a friend, make an appointment with your mental health professional.
Things I will personally do:
Offer three pro-bono community sessions to groups in the LA area on societal grief, acknowledging and legitimizing our hard things, managing “grief brain,” talking to kids about scary news cycles, and a group sharing exercise. Think non-profits, school groups in great need, community or neighborhood organizations over corporate groups. Please note, this is not therapy.
Mail a Keanu Reeves-holding-a-dog koozie to the first 250 readers who send me a donation receipt from any time after this newsletter was sent out. I just shared lots of ideas for places to support above.
We’re on Bluesky
Have you read what’s going on in social media news lately? Of course we’re on Bluesky. We have a grand total of zero followers since this account was created, oh, about three hours ago. Won’t you join us and spread the word?
Introducing Help Texts
Feeling seen in our hard things can happen through many ways, including through the messages that show up on our devices when we’re least expecting them. I’m pleased to share that I am an expert contributor with Help Texts. You can now get personalized texts from me and a range of impressive researchers, writers, and thinkers in the grief space all year long to help you navigate your loss one message at a time. And Modern Loss readers will get $10 off a year of support texts.