The Brief

Each April, tens of thousands of people flock to the heart of the Coachella Valley to camp, dance and let loose at the music festival by that same name.

The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival features hundreds of performers on some half a dozen stages, spread out across two consecutive three-day weekends. This year, performances by the likes of Lady Gaga, Charli XCX, Post Malone, Benson Boone and even an appearance by Sen. Bernie Sanders, I-Vt., instantly went viral.

Coachella's diverse lineup, celebrity-studded audience, and ample commercial opportunities for brands and social media influencers make it one of the most popular and profitable music festivals in the world. The event — combined with the country music festival Stagecoach, which is always the following weekend — sold about 250,000 tickets in 2024.

The catch?

Coachella the festival does not actually take place in Coachella the city. Since its founding in 1999, it's been held in nearby Indio. Both are part of the Coachella Valley, which is in Southern California's Colorado Desert and is also home to the cities of Palm Springs and Indian Wells.

"I think a lot of people who come to this area from other places aren't really sure what's what, and I don't think they really care," says Jeff Crider, a freelance writer and historian who has written a book about the Coachella Valley. "I think they just come and want to have a good time."

But it's worth learning about Coachella, both the place and the festival. The Coachella Valley's two primary industries, agriculture and entertainment, have rich histories that intertwine in fascinating ways.

The Coachella Valley is synonymous with wealth and celebrity, given its long list of famous visitors and winter residents, including many former U.S. presidents and Hollywood stars. But the region — which is also known for its agricultural production, particularly dates — is also home to a large population of farmworkers, many of whom are immigrants

"Yes, the rich and famous have winter homes here. Yes, we have some of the most famous entertainment events in the world taking place here," Crider says. "But the majority of the people who live and work out here year round are not rich and famous. Many, many, many of them are struggling to make it."

Celebrities including Zeppo and Harpo Marx play backgammon in Palm Springs in this undated photo.

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Where did the word come from? 

Coachella itself was a product of the country's railroad system — and a typo.

As the City of Coachella's website explains, the Southern Pacific Railroad laid the first tracks throughout the valley in 1876, linking it to a growing network of railways across California. A secondary track, called a side spur, was built in present-day Coachella.

"It was literally just like an offramp from the railroad," Crider explains.

A railroad employee named Jason Rector was tasked with clearing the trees in that area, which became known as Woodspur. Rector is credited with becoming the town's first permanent resident and "unofficial mayor" for the rest of his life. He also helped name it.

According to the city's website, during the process of laying out the townsite in 1901, Rector proposed "Conchilla," which means "little shell" in Spanish and references the fossils that were found in the area.

The developers, in agreement, designed a prospectus that would announce the opening of the new town. But the product they got back from the printer misspelled "Conchilla" as "Coachella." Rather than delay the announcement, the founders decided to roll with the name — which the valley itself went on to adopt. The town, however, didn't become a city until 1946.

"'Coachella' was a mistake," Crider says. "They decided just to keep the name, even though 'Coachella' itself does not mean anything. It doesn't mean anything in Spanish, it doesn't mean anything in English, other than the place that we know as Coachella."

In the decades that followed, the region's dry, sunny climate and fertile soil began to attract both farmers and celebrities.

Early growers realized their crops could be ready to harvest long before other regions, and started planting dates and other types of produce to sell without competition. It has an important place in the labor movement too: The first significant farm labor strike — against table grape growers — took place in the Coachella Valley in 1965, led in part by Cesar Chavez.

At the same time, grand hotels like Palm Springs' El Mirador began drawing high-profile visitors from Los Angeles, about 100 miles away. The 1960s further boosted tourism, Crider says, thanks to the interstate and air conditioning.

In other words, Coachella Valley was a prominent venue for golf, tennis and other forms of entertainment long before the music festival came on the scene. Crider says it's been "an escape for the elite literally for a century" — and the Coachella festival has only made the area more famous since then.

"Because just like in the 1920's and '30s, when you had the photos of the Hollywood stars lounging by the swimming pool that made this place famous 100 years ago, today what makes this place famous is having pictures of the latest celebrities, Lady Gaga, for example, and others who are at Coachella right now," Crider adds. "They're making this place famous, but they're making the whole valley famous."

It took a few years for the Coachella festival — pictured here in April 2001 — to grow into the phenomenon it is today.

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How has the word been used over time?

The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival made its debut in early October 1999, with headliners including Beck and Rage Against the Machine and tickets costing $50 a day.

It was the brainchild of concert promoters Rick Van Santen and Paul Tollett, organized by Tollett's company Goldenvoice — which made its name in the 1980s booking punk rock acts that other promoters wouldn't.

Tollett also helped the band Pearl Jam book alternate venues during its boycott of Ticketmaster after a dispute in the early 1990s. One of their gigs ended up at the Empire Polo Club — and showed Tollett how prime the venue could be for the large-scale festival of his dreams.

Coachella's organizers hoped to emulate the multi-act, days-long music festivals that were so popular overseas, such as those in Reading and Glastonbury in the United Kingdom.

"For Southern California, this could be the start of something really special," Tollett told the Los Angeles Times in 1999.

But that first year wasn't a huge success, in part because of the intentional lack of corporate sponsors, blazing triple-digit temperatures and a drop in advance ticket sales after Woodstock '99 descended into violence. Tollett revealed much later that the festival's first year cost the company $750,000.

Coachella took a break in 2000 and returned in 2001, this time scaled back to a single day and scheduled for the milder weather of April. Its lineups, ticket prices and crowd sizes kept growing.

"The desert town of Indio has become the unlikely location of one of the hottest music festivals in the country," NPR's Stacey Bond reported in 2004.

That was the year tickets sold out for the first time, drawing a crowd of 120,000 to see acts including Radiohead and The Cure, as well the reunited Pixies (the first of many reunions on the Coachella stage).

Coachella has expanded and evolved over the years: It eliminated single-day tickets in favor of three-day passes in 2010, added a second weekend starting in 2012 and increasingly broke attendance records until the city increased its cap to 125,000 in 2017.

These days, general admission passes start around $600, not including extra fees for camping and parking. The festival that originally resisted sponsorship deals now boasts dozens of corporate partners, including food, beverage and cosmetic companies.

And while it still showcases dozens of the moment's biggest artists (144 acts this year), it's about much more than just music, especially in the era of social media and influencers.

"The word 'Coachella' itself has become shorthand for a tastemaker event," the Los Angeles Times declared in 2019, the festival's 20th anniversary.

Festivalgoers enjoy the first weekend of the 2025 Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival at the Empire Polo Club on Sunday.

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Why does the word matter today?

Crider says the local economy is dependent on events like Coachella to draw people in, calling the influx of festival goers "a huge shot in the arm for our economy."

"As someone who has lived in this valley for half of my lifetime, I love seeing the kids come in, come into our stores, buying alcohol, sunscreen, whatever else they need, souvenirs," Crider says. "And then they line up at grocery stores and they go on buses that take them down to … the polo grounds, where they're going to see all the music performed. And it's just a great time."

That said, the reality of life in the region — and the huge discrepancies in wealth — are not necessarily apparent to people who associate Coachella simply with the festival that bears its name.

He says festival goers who complain about the Coachella heat likely don't realize that there are farmworkers harvesting produce in that same sun just miles away, or that many of the people putting the food on their restaurant tables rely on food banks themselves.

"That is something that people might not realize when they're out here spending a gazillion dollars to attend a music festival and being overcharged for drinks and whatnot, as we know that happens," Crider says. "You wouldn't think that there would be so much poverty out here at the same time."

Crider says a lot of young people leave the area for college and don't return because of a lack of jobs, which is something business interests in the valley are trying to change.

"There have been efforts to try to diversify the economy … so that we don't remain forever dependent on just agriculture or tourism," he adds. "But that's how this area was really created — and it works."

Copyright 2025 NPR

The number of Californians without health insurance could double from 2 million today to 4 million by 2030, according to a report from the state Legislative Analyst's Office. It’s the state budget office’s preliminary attempt to quantify how federal legislation known as the “One Big Beautiful Bill” will reshape healthcare access statewide.

The One Big Beautiful Bill is driving nearly 90% of the projected coverage loss, according to the LAO report. It's mostly Medi-Cal enrollees who are expected to be dropped when new work requirements take effect in 2027. The remaining 10% are largely people leaving the state's health insurance marketplace, Covered California, after enhanced federal premium subsidies expired last year.

What's the impact to coverage?

L.A. County officials estimate that recent Medi-Cal changes could put coverage at risk for hundreds of thousands of residents and cost the health departments about $800 million a year. A UC Berkeley Labor Center analysis projected more than 1 million Medi-Cal enrollees could lose coverage by 2028.

The LAO report also warns that county indigent health programs for uninsured residents will soon face a surge in demand they’re not prepared to meet. Those county programs had enrolled about 850,000 people statewide before the federal government expanded Medicaid coverage in 2014. Total enrollment is currently 10,000 statewide, but the trend is going to reverse, according to the report.

What's the impact to health-care providers?

More uninsured people means hospitals and clinics provide more services without getting paid. The LAO projects that uncompensated care costs at hospitals could grow by several billion dollars statewide by 2030. Clinics face steeper losses because they run on smaller budgets and depend more heavily on Medi-Cal revenue.

The LAO also projects premiums on the individual health insurance market will rise as healthier people drop coverage.

What are proposals to help?

The LAO itself doesn’t recommend new spending and instead urges lawmakers to track what happens to hospitals, clinics and county programs before taking action. But both L.A. County and state officials are pushing tax efforts to combat federal cuts.

L.A. County voters will decide June 2 on Measure ER, a half-cent sales tax that would generate about $1 billion a year for hospitals and clinics. ANovember statewide ballot initiative would impose a one-time 5% tax on Californians worth over $1 billion and direct 90% of proceeds to Medi-Cal.

California regulators say State Farm has illegally delayed, underpaid and denied claims from policyholders affected by the 2025 L.A. fires — something fire survivors have said for months.

The California Department of Insurance announced Monday that it has taken the first step in the process to bring the allegations to a public hearing before an administrative judge. That could result in the state’s largest home insurer paying up to about $4 million in penalties, and suspension of its license for up to a year, meaning it could not write new policies in California during that time.

“Our investigation found that State Farm delayed, underpaid, and buried policyholders in red tape at the worst moment of their lives,” state Insurance Commissioner Ricardo Lara said in a statement.

The state analyzed 220 randomly selected claims — out of more than 11,000 filed with State Farm in response to last year’s fires — and found hundreds of violations in more than half them. Attorneys for the state called it a “troubling pattern” in their filing.

State Farm denied the allegations and called the state’s move “politically motivated” in a lengthy statement posted to its website.

Every Fire Survivors Network, a coalition representing thousands of L.A. fire survivors, pressured the state for months to investigate State Farm’s handling of wildfire claims.

Joy Chen, who co-founded the group after her home was damaged in the Eaton Fire, said the state’s action is far from enough.

“It’s just very disappointing to see our regulator issue a report that shows his own failures over the last 16 months,” she told LAist.

Only a few dozen homes have been rebuilt so far in both Altadena and Pacific Palisades since the fires destroyed more than 16,000 buildings, mostly homes, in those communities and nearby areas.

A survey by the nonprofit Department of Angels last year found that nearly three-quarters of L.A. fire survivors reported delays, denials and low payouts of their claims across all insurers.

“What we need is for all State Farm contracts to be enforced so that Los Angeles families can have the money that we need to move forward with getting back home,” Chen said.

The state’s alleged violations carry a fine of up to $5,000, and up to $10,000 if the violations are found to be willful. The case will be heard by a state administrative law judge, who will provide a recommendation to Insurance Commissioner Ricardo Lara on a possible penalty.

The Insurance Department said people with homeowners policies from any insurer can report problems with their claims at insurance.ca.gov or by calling (800) 927-4357.

Yes, you could put a screen in your backyard and call up your friends to watch a particularly compelling World Cup game after the tournament begins June 12.

But FIFA is turning each game into a public celebration, sponsoring 10 outdoor Fan Zone watch parties with large viewing screens across L.A. County through the final on July 19.

Details were released on Monday, including locations, dates and prices.

The Fan Zones open in a staggered schedule from one day to four days each, starting with the Original Farmers Market on June 18 - 21, and then popping up across the region until the glorious end on July 19 in downtown Burbank.

Ticket prices range from free (City of Downey, Union Station L.A., “Magic” Johnson Park, Whittier Narrows) to over $300 for a VIP experience with a viewing lounge and a concert at the downtown Burbank Fan Zone on the day of the World Cup final match on July 19.

Fan Zone kick off

At the first Fan Zone, at The Original Farmers Market from June 18 for four days, entry will cost you $5 per day or $17 for all four days. Kids age 3 and under are free. (FIFA says the zones are family friendly).

You’ll be able to see four matches there each of the four days, including Mexico vs. South Korea on June 18 at 6 p.m. and USA vs. Australia on June 19 at noon.

FIFA World Cup 2026 scarves are displayed during the ribbon cutting for the LAX/Metro Transit Center rail and bus public transportation station at LAX on June 6, 2025.

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You won’t have to squint to find your favorite player or catch the goals. The Farmer’s Market will include a 30-foot viewing screen as well as a 15-foot secondary screen to watch the games. There will be beer gardens, and you can purchase food from the Market's dozens of establishments.

Other Fan Zones

The West Harbor L.A. Fan Zone will give people an opportunity to experience the newest major development along the San Pedro waterfront, a 42-acre waterfront district that’s been years in the making.

The Union Station L.A. Fan Zone on June 25 is free and includes match viewing, music, food, and immersive fan experiences, featuring live DJs.

The final Fan Zone opens July 18 and 19 in downtown Burbank for the World Cup’s last two matches. FIFA says it’ll include “an adjacent international street fair filled with global flavors and cultural experiences.” Tickets range from $25 to over $300

The full list of the Fan Zones is here.

This of course, isn’t the only opportunity to watch World Cup matches with groups of people in SoCal. The city of L.A. will host its own watch parties.

Up against a massive court backlog that can drag their cases for years, asylum seekers face steep costs when pursuing their dreams of college in California.

Asylum-seeking students in California often face a double blow: they are charged higher tuition for nonresidents and excluded from most financial aid. For students and their families, this can mean thousands of dollars paid out of pocket and years of financial stress as their immigration cases remain unresolved.

Before establishing residency, asylum-seeking students are charged non-resident rates, which are about three times what state residents pay for public universities and roughly eight to 13 times more for community colleges, depending on the district.

All asylum seekers are disqualified from federal financial aid. The few who qualify for California’s state aid may never know their options, or face hurdles in obtaining it due to a patchwork of financial aid processes.

The state’s higher education systems are not mandated to track asylum seekers, making state budget impacts nearly unquantifiable during legislative attempts to expand financial aid eligibility.

“I only see them struggling,” said Eric Cline, social services program director at OASIS Legal Services, which supports LGBTQ+ asylum seekers across the Bay Area and Central Valley. “I’m always surprised (when) a few clients tell me 'I just graduated from college.’ I think, ‘Wow, how did that happen?’”

Policy changes stoke uncertainty for asylum seekers

Asylum seeking is one of the least-protected immigration statuses in the U.S. Asylum seekers, who’ve fled their home countries fearing persecution and are asking the U.S. for protection, differ from refugees, whose status is granted before they enter the country. Asylum seekers apply upon arriving in the U.S.

Applicants can stay as their cases remain pending for years, though experts say the Trump administration is expediting deportations for numerous asylum seekers and ending cases before they can receive a full hearing.

As of February 2026, a little over 2.3 million immigrants are awaiting asylum hearings nationwide, according to Syracuse University’s Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse, which tracks federal activity. The most recent data shows California alone had about 169,000 pending asylum cases in its immigration courts by the end of 2023 — the second-largest backlog of any state. The average wait for an asylum hearing in California was 1,412 days at that time.

The Trump administration paused asylum cases in November, creating even further delays. The administration has now allowed cases to resume for applicants from all but 40 countries. In the San Francisco immigration court system, which is popular among asylum seekers due to higher acceptance rates, a combination of firings by the Trump administration, retirements and relocations whittled the 21 immigration judges to two, according to reporting in Mission Local. Left behind is a caseload of nearly 119,000 immigration cases, the highest of any immigration court in California.

President Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” also established new fees for asylum seekers, placing additional pressure on an already low-income population. Applicants must now pay an initial $100 application fee plus $100 per year while their case is pending, $550 for a work permit, and $745 each year to renew the permit. In addition, a new rule proposed by the Department of Homeland Security would effectively end the ability of asylum seekers to obtain work permits at all.

Royce Hall on the UCLA campus

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As they await a decision, asylum seekers are excluded from federal aid and some state financial aid programs, including Cal Grants under California law.

For one asylum seeker, Carol, being ineligible for financial aid meant she had to take time off from school to work to make ends meet. CalMatters is not using her full name because she fears speaking publicly may jeopardize her asylum case.

Carol did speak before the Assembly Higher Education Committee in 2023 urging lawmakers to pass AB 888, which would have expanded Cal Grant eligibility to certain asylum seekers. The bill ultimately did not pass.

She said she arrived in the United States at 17 and had spent more than six years waiting for her case to move through immigration courts, a period during which she said she was ineligible for financial aid.

“I’ve had to delay my educational journey several times, including going part-time and even taking a semester off from school to work,” Carol told lawmakers.

Without access to aid, she said she experienced homelessness, couch surfing and at one point slept on a mattress topper on a hardwood floor because she could not afford a bed. She worked multiple jobs at a time, skipped meals and attended class without the required course materials.

Her story, she said, was not new. Carol told the committee that four years earlier her brother had testified with a nearly identical experience on behalf of a previous bill that was ultimately vetoed, a cycle she argued could have been prevented.

“Had California taken action then, I wouldn’t have had to face the harrowing experiences that I shared with you today,” she said.

Despite the barriers, Carol graduated from Cal State Long Beach and worked as a caseworker with the International Rescue Committee, helping resettle refugees and asylum seekers. She told lawmakers she hopes to pursue a law degree and become an international human rights attorney.

The narrow path to college aid for asylum-seeking students

Many asylum seekers arrive eager to continue studies they began abroad, but quickly run into what Cline calls “a brick wall."

“All of our clients are low-income … they’re almost never eligible for generalized financial aid,” he said. “When you take away the financial aid aspect, it makes (college) pretty inaccessible.”

For California residents, annual undergraduate tuition is $15,588 at the University of California, $6,838 at the California State University and about $1,380 for 30 units at a community college. Students classified as non-residents — including some asylum seekers before establishing residency — can pay $54,858 at a University of California, about $20,968 at a Cal State before campus-based fees, and roughly $10,140 to $13,560 for 30 units at a community college, depending on the district. These figures do not include campus-based fees, housing or living expenses.

Even when students do manage to establish residency, the cost is still steep. For the many asylum seekers who arrive in the United States as adults, they may not have attended a California school previously, barring them from qualifying for state financial aid.

AB 540, the 2001 law that exempts undocumented students from paying non-resident tuition, only applies if the student attended a California high school or community college for three years.

Those who qualify through AB 540 can fill out the California Dream Act Application for state financial aid, such as Cal Grants, university system-specific grants, state loans, and the state’s middle class scholarship.

The application process can still be confusing for asylum seekers whose status is not fully accounted for in the design of the application. For example, asylum seekers often have Social Security numbers for work authorization, but affirming so while answering the financial aid pre-screening questions leads to undetermined eligibility because the questions don’t take into account the nuances of applying as an asylum seeker.

Stickers and flyers on a table in the Undocumented Community Center at the College of San Mateo in San Mateo, on Nov. 28, 2023. At this center, undocumented students can access financial and legal aid as well as guidance in navigating grant applications.

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Asylum seekers often require extra help from financial aid counselors, but even counselors may not know how to help navigate eligibility rules. Students often wind up seeking help from undocumented student resource centers on public campuses, which are designed to help students who lack legal residency and those from mixed-status families find aid and academic support.

Kaveena Singh, the director of immigration legal services at the East Bay Sanctuary Covenant, which provides legal services to low-income immigrants, noted that she herself has written letters to financial aid offices to help explain the in-between nature of the few asylum-seeking students she has served.

As an asylum-seeking student in his mid-20s, L. ended up qualifying for state financial aid through AB 540. However, he misunderstood for six years exactly what aid he qualified for. L. wished to withhold his name and the names of the institutions he’s attended for fear of negative impacts on his pending asylum case.

Initially, community college didn’t cost him anything — but when he transferred to a large four-year university, the cost of college soared. He went to his university's financial aid office for help so often that all the staff there knew his name. It was a "big relief” when he was finally able to successfully fill out the California Dream Act Application, and obtain financial aid for his summer and fall quarters.

L.'s asylum case has been pending for nine years. He, his dad, mom and younger brother arrived in the United States in the winter of 2016, claiming asylum under fear of political retribution. His father organized political assemblies in China, and his mother was forced to have an abortion under the one-child policy.

“I just wish I could go home and visit family and friends and catch up for a good few weeks in the summer here and there to reconnect with my past,” L. said. “It's like there's two separate lives, like two entities being artificially cut.”

L. worked throughout high school and college, and worried about affording school.

Most days, the combination of family trauma and the limbo of waiting for his case means L. survives through “constant compartmentalization.”

In the meantime, he tries to carry on — he studies politics, and is interested in international relations and human rights.

"As rough as all that's happened, the silver lining is that one day hopefully I get a passport and a green card," L. said. "To help other people avoid such a hassle will be just as fulfilling for me."

Previous legislative efforts have failed

Legislative bills to extend state financial aid eligibility to asylum-seeking students have been introduced at least twice in recent years but have failed.

One attempt came in 2019, when Sen. Ben Allen, a Democrat from El Segundo, introduced SB 296, a bill that would have extended Cal Grant eligibility to students with pending asylum applications. The measure passed the Legislature with some bipartisan support, but was vetoed by Gov. Gavin Newsom, who said that it would "impose costs on the General Fund that must be weighed in the annual budget process."

“That was frustrating, but I understood it,” Allen told CalMatters. “The real issue is that we don’t have good data. Our schools don’t track asylum seekers, so we can’t easily calculate the cost.”

UC data on asylum-seeking students is protected due to privacy policies, according to Stett Holbrook, a UC spokesperson. The Cal State system reports it has less than 500 students with "asylum status," which includes both those who have an asylum granted and asylum seekers, according to Cal State spokesperson Amy Bentley-Smith. The numbers are self-reported during the admissions process.

In spring 2025, 13,507 students self-identified as “refugee/asylee” across the California Community Colleges — up from 11,537 the prior semester — per the CCC DataMart. The data does not include a category for just asylum seekers. Students can self-identify their immigration status while applying, but asylum seekers are not specifically tracked, according to the college system’s spokesperson Melissa Villarin.

Four years after SB 296 failed, Democrat Sabrina Cervantes — then representing Riverside in the Assembly and now as a state senator — revived the proposal through AB 888, introduced in 2023. Like Allen’s earlier bill, AB 888 sought to make Cal Grants accessible to students with pending asylum applications by creating a direct eligibility pathway outside the AB 540 residency requirements. The bill passed the Assembly unanimously but was held in the Senate Appropriations Committee last September, effectively ending its chances for the year.

Cervantes declined an interview with CalMatters. “My Assembly Bill 888 would have created a new pathway for pending asylum seekers in California to apply for Cal Grant financial aid in pursuit of their higher education,” Cervantes wrote in a statement.

Newsom’s office declined to say whether he would support a future version of the proposal, pointing instead to his brief 2019 veto message.

“There’s nervousness around anything that involves new expenses," Allen said. “... We’re going to have to spend some time seeing what information we can get with regards to better data to get better estimated costs. I think that will help to better inform the conversation."

Andrea Baltodano and Chrissa Olson are contributors with the College Journalism Network, a collaboration between CalMatters and student journalists from across California. CalMatters higher education coverage is supported by a grant from the College Futures Foundation.

This article was originally published on CalMatters and was republished under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license.