Los Angeles Tomorrow
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what’s happening in Los Angeles. This city that I called home for three years just a short decade ago was more than the rich in Pacific Palisades, the film titans, and business magnates. It was also a sprawling middle class—teachers, nurses, firefighters, small business owners, the lifeblood of any functioning community—who you didn’t see in the news, but they were critical to making it Los Angeles. Fabulous. Unique. Exciting Los Angeles. That is all in jeopardy now. The fires, insurance crises, and skyrocketing temporary housing costs for those rebuilding their homes are creating a perfect storm. The middle class will have to leave. The question is, will they come back? I doubt it.
We’ve seen this story before, across the world. And the results are not pretty. In cities across South America, like São Paulo in Brazil, there are stark divisions: the very, very rich and the very, very poor. The middle class barely exists. São Paulo has glittering skyscrapers in its wealthy enclaves like Jardins, where the elite live in luxury, enjoying private schools, gated communities, and first-world conveniences. But just beyond those barriers lie sprawling favelas—communities of immense poverty with little access to the opportunities that wealth provides.
The parallels I see to Los Angeles are keeping me up at night. (That and the image of a Jackson Pollack that I know burned in the fire. Should it have been on that wall?) Without a middle class, a city’s foundation begins to crack. Public schools crumble because the wealthy send their children to private academies. Public transportation, parks, and infrastructure falter because the ultra-wealthy rarely use them and the poor lack the means to maintain them. Social mobility grinds to a halt. Instead of being a vibrant, interconnected community, the city becomes a fractured shell of its former self, divided by invisible walls of income inequality.
In Los Angeles, the potential exodus of the middle class isn’t just about unaffordability. It’s also about politics. The new administration, in its characteristic style, has already turned rebuilding aid into a weapon. Because California—and by extension, Los Angeles—has historically resisted Trump’s policies, there are threats for federal aid to stop flowing. Instead of rallying to help a major American city, Trump has made it clear that he will withhold aid, punishing local leaders for their political independence.
So, in my mind, this isn’t just about Los Angeles. It’s a warning to every mayor and governor in America: Stand up to Trump, and you risk your city’s survival. If Los Angeles doesn’t receive federal support, the cost of recovery will be borne disproportionately by its residents. Wealthy homeowners with fire-resistant compounds will rebuild, perhaps with even greater opulence. But the middle-class family who barely managed to buy a modest home in Sylmar or Chatsworth? They will be gone—likely forever.
When they leave, Los Angeles will face a future that feels eerily like São Paulo’s present. A city with dazzling wealth on the hills of Malibu and the Palisades, built on the charred remains of a day gone by. And with a growing underclass that struggles to survive in the shadows of prosperity. The heart of the city—the people who teach our kids, run our small businesses, and respond to emergencies—will vanish. And as the middle class disappears, so too will the sense of shared purpose and civic pride that made Los Angeles the shiny city I lived in for a few years.
So, what happens next? Mayors across the country are watching. If Trump gets away with abandoning Los Angeles in its moment of need, what stops him from doing the same to Chicago, Boston, or Miami? The message is clear: political loyalty trumps public good.
This is a time to reach out to let your senators and congresspeople know that you will not sit by quietly as they take Los Angeles into the dark night. Nope. And let the oligarchs know too. Zuckerberg—hear me, oh egomaniacal human—I will leave your META land if you do not stand up loud and clear. And Amazon? I will return to local purchasing (which we should do anyway) if you do not come out against withholding aid.
They have his ear. We have theirs, if only because collectively, we can change their net profit.
If we want a different future for Los Angeles—and for America—it’s time for all of us to pay attention. This is the moment. Enough mourning. Enough sticking our heads in the sand. Because what’s happening here isn’t just about one city. It’s about the soul of my country and it may be on fire, but it’s not scorched earth - yet.
Christine Merser is the author of American Memoir 2025,.