The Brief

The middle school once attended by — and eventually renamed for — the author Octavia E. Butler will hold its third Science Fiction Festival on Friday.

The multi-award winning and best selling author graduated from what was then Washington Junior High in 1962 and wrote some of her earliest stories while a student.

School librarian Natalie Daily organized the Octavia E. Butler Magnet’s first science fiction writing contest in 2020, the same year the school’s library was renamed in her honor. The school itself was renamed two years later.

“I want [students] to realize that their ideas matter,” Daily said. “I think that Butler is a testament to that, you know, she was writing stuff and thinking about really, really deep ideas when she was a student here.”

"It kind of sometimes feels like her eyes are watching you," librarian Natalie Daily said of the chalk portrait of Butler by Bianca Ornelas in the library. "I just kind of think, would I be making a space that she would have liked?"

(

Mariana Dale

/

LAist

)

In 2022, the school expanded the contest into the first Science Fiction Festival.

“It's just ways for kids to be engaged in both science and art, and creation,” Daily said. “To see themselves as part of all of it.”

Students and families can learn how to code robots, talk to an astronomer, create space-inspired art, and might even spot their favorite Star Wars character.

“Last year, the fungal expert was such a hit,” Daily said. “I had to have them back this year because the kids just thought it was so cool to see all those different weird mushrooms.”

The festival will also reveal the winners of the 2023-2024 science fiction contest. The now- annual school-wide competition includes art, short narrative, poetry, and graphic fiction.

A new generation of science fiction creators

LAist caught up with a few of the students who’d won first place in their respective categories in 2022 and will graduate later this year.

Roffman wrote "Savages" after watching Disney's Pocahontas and thinking about how aliens would view humans.

(

Mariana Dale

/

LAist

)

"I wrote a poem and I realized, wait a second, this is really fun," Roffman said. "So I put a lot of work into the poem."

(

Mariana Dale

/

LAist

)

Then-sixth grader Brooklyn Roffman wrote a poem called “Savages” that imagines aliens demeaning earthlings the way European colonists did Native Americans.

“I wrote it and then I had a lot of thoughts about it — mostly negative thoughts,” Roffman said. “So then I just changed it, like, word by word.”

Her revisions paid off — she won first prize in the poetry category.

“It felt amazing,” Roffman said. “I put a lot of work into it and it felt really good to do something right for once.”

"I'm not very great at expressing my feelings, like, socially, so I just let out on writing," student Dayana Diaz said.

(

Mariana Dale

/

LAist

)

Diaz shared this excerpt from her story: "I bet you would think living on Mars in the year 3268 would be horrible, but its beauty speaks for itself. We humans came to Mars when it was finally very full of life. Earth, of course, still exists and is habitable, but we prefer to stay on Mars either way. Its atmosphere holds a soft pink sky with white clouds."

(

Mariana Dale

/

LAist

)

Dayana Diaz wrote a short story about people who built a life on Mars and a war with Jupiter that threatens to destroy it.

“It's similar to Earth — although it's, like, obviously not the same at all,” Diaz said. “It still has the same, like, beauty to it.”

Diaz said she was inspired by research about the possibility of sustaining life on the red planet.

“I feel like there's a good possibility that we could go there one day, and I would like that to happen,” Diaz said.

When she found out she won first prize, Diaz said she was surprised, happy, but also a little bit nervous.

“It just made me realize that I actually really do like writing,” Diaz said. “Like I should write a little more.”

Molnar's drawing was inspired by a science project about the impact of humans on coral reefs.

(

Mariana Dale

/

LAist

)

"Whenever I feel like unmotivated or, like, I just not in the mood to draw, I usually think about the things that I have done that went really well," Molnar said. "That kind of helps me."

(

Mariana Dale

/

LAist

)

Maxine Molnar’s winning illustration shows a girl standing on a cliff looking out over a receding ocean. A spaceship and red sedan float above the water. Dots of color in the distance imply an airborne freeway.

“I learned more about endangered coral reefs, and I discovered how much I love to draw in perspective,” Molnar said.

Molnar said middle school has been full of opportunities to learn — academically — and about herself.

“I've explored more of, like, what I enjoy doing,” Molnar said. “What I'm really good at and things that I also need to work on.”

Tracking sharks off the California coast is a full-time job. One program that does that is on the brink of losing its funding, even as they want to help track sharks during the 2028 Summer Olympics.

The Shark Lab at Cal State Long Beach recently announced a plea for private contributions to fund another year of research and data collection focused on keeping the public safe.

The plan leading up to the 2028 Summer Olympics is to create a tracking system specific enough to share real-time monitoring information with local lifeguards through state-of-the-art autonomous boat and drone technology.

“There are going to be Olympic events in Long Beach Harbor, down in San Clemente – there are white sharks in all those places,” said Chris Lowe, director of the Shark Lab, highlighting the importance of the tools not only for athletes, but for the public also visiting from all over the world.

“Lifeguards will be scrambling for monitoring data, and they won’t have it if we run out of money,” Lowe explained.

In 2019, the lab’s Shark Safety program began after it received nearly $4 million from the state to set up a research program to tag white sharks and use drones to monitor them from the air, while using new EDNA technology to measure their presence in the water.

“That money was scheduled to last 5 years; we made it last 6,” Lowe said. “Last year we tried to get state money back, but we were told ‘the budget’s too bad, we can’t fund you this year.’”

State Sen. Tony Strickland of Huntington Beach put in a request this year for $1.7 million in NOAA funding. “The funds requested for FY 2026–27 represents the immediate need to prevent program reductions as existing funding expires and to maintain continuity of operations,” said Strickland in his budget request. The lab’s annual operating budget is around $1 million, and the hope was that the extra funding could expand the program to Monterey Bay.

Since Strickland’s request was denied from this year’s budget, the lab’s funding is set to run out in September. Going a year without funding would be detrimental to the program’s support system, Lowe said. He says half of the budget goes toward the salaries and training of highly experienced and educated technicians, required to keep the program moving.

The lab monitors sharks up and down the California coastline.

(

Cal State Long Beach Shark Lab

)

Roughly $700,000 worth of equipment is set up in the ocean, monitoring around 260 white sharks from Morro Bay to San Diego. “That’s a lot of money in the water that we have to constantly maintain and download… but it provides huge amounts of data, and we share that data with everybody,” said Lowe.

Lowe is also worried about the potential crisis local beaches may face in the event of an incident such as a shark bite, as the public may be dissuaded from visiting a beach following an incident.

Lowe sees education as a crucial way to mitigate that risk and raise awareness. The Shark Lab created summer outreach programs led by undergraduate students that visit beaches along the coast, teaching beach safety surrounding marine life and risks like rip currents.

“We’ve teamed up with psychologists to look at people’s perceptions, and we’ve teamed up with an economist to look at what those costs really are,” Lowe explained.

“These are all projects with the goal of keeping both people and sharks safe,” Lowe said. “We just need help. We need financial help.”

This article was originally published by the Long Beach Post, an LAist partner newsroom.

Voters in Orange will decide in November if the city should become a charter city.

The City Council approved 4-3 at its July 14 meeting to bring the question to voters. Councilmembers Arianna Barrios, Ana Gutierrez and John Gyllenhammer opposed the measure.

Orange is currently a general law city, which means it’s bound by state law and mandates. Charter cities still have to follow state law, but can establish their own rules on issues such as mayoral authority, term limits and financial management. Each charter city varies in how they establish those rules. (Read more about the nuts-and-bolts of Orange’s proposed charter city below.)

In California, 121 cities have adopted charters, including Los Angeles, Santa Ana and Huntington Beach. Other cities, including Fullerton, have also discussed adopting a city charter.

Why this matters 

Supporters of the ballot measure have said that a city charter will give Orange more control over city planning, contracting and revenue. The city is facing a budget deficit and largely lacks the revenue to sustain operations, according to consultants.

Last year, consultants warned Orange officials that if big changes aren’t made, the city could go bankrupt by 2029.

Councilmember Kathy Tavoularis introduced the charter idea earlier this year, saying the move could help the city face its financial problems.

“If you talk to people from other charter cities, Anaheim included, they'll tell you the benefits that they have from it,” Tavoularis said. “I will respect what the voters say. It's just an option, and I want to keep giving the voters options.”

Is a charter really the solution to Orange’s problems? 

The answer might not be straightforward. Jodi Balma, a political science professor at Fullerton College, told LAist that the charter can help with finances, but it all boils down to how it's written.

“The idea that being a charter city absolves you of all state regulation is not true,” Balma said. “How does a charter city change the finances? That depends what's in the charter. But cities get their revenue from taxes. The charter itself does not magically give the money.”

Voters can amend the charter later, she added.

“Residents can put charter amendments on the ballot,” Balma said. “Some of the cities have done good governance charter amendments, or written it in to begin with, and other cities have used that power to block the public out.”

For a city to adopt a charter, it requires a majority approval from voters. Adopting a charter alone will not cost the city, but placing the measure on the ballot will incur a cost.

What do opposing council members say? 

Other council members questioned the timing of the ballot measure and whether the city was moving too fast on the idea.

“My actual issue about not voting for this right now has to do with the timing against the other things we've brought forward,” Barrios said. “I don't think it's a bad idea. I think we need more time to get there.”

Councilmember Guttierez also said the charter item could have been tabled to prioritize more pressing city issues.

“I'd be happy to discuss this in the future after we get ourselves out of this structural deficit that we have,” Guttierez said.

What would the city’s proposed charter do?

Here are some highlights of what the 10-page proposed charter would accomplish: 

Fiscal responsibility: The proposed ordinance includes several rules concerning finances. For example, the city is required to adopt a balanced budget. An annual independent audit to be presented to the City Council would also be required under the ordinance. When deciding where to use general funds, repairing public infrastructure, replenishing reserves and reducing outstanding debt are among the city’s top priorities, per the charter.

Term limits: The ordinance governs all manner of elections, district boundaries, term limits and qualifications. For example, a resident must reside in Orange for 30 days or more to qualify to run for office. And no person can serve as mayor for more than two four-year terms in a lifetime. Also, no person can serve as a city council member for more than three four-year terms in a lifetime.

Open space reserve: A unique section in the proposed charter ensures the preservation of parks, wildlife habitat and other natural resources. The designated areas would be restricted to certain uses like recreation and park use.

You can read the full proposed charter here.

SAULT STE. MARIE, Mich. — The idea came to Danielle Boyer in a toy store. The inspiration? It was Tickle Me Elmo.

"Whenever you'd press his belly, he would talk, and he would teach you things," she said. "There are toys that teach us in English, but there aren't toys that teach us Anishinaabemowin. And I wanted that to be different."

Anishinaabemowin includes the Potawatomi, Odawa and Ojibwe languages. Exact estimates vary, but there are fewer than 10,000 people in the U.S. who speak Anishinaabemowin. That number is around 25,000 in Canada. Some Native languages have just a few dozen fluent speakers, while others have none.

Boyer has seen how quickly language loss can happen. Her grandmother speaks Anishinaabemowin, but she is one of the last fluent speakers of their dialect.

"It is devastating to feel like your language could be lost," said Boyer, a member of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians. "You lose your culture, you lose a way to describe who you are."

U.S. Indian boarding schools played a major role in the loss of Indigenous languages. Children separated from their families were taught, sometimes violently, not to speak their native tongues, and many did not pass them on to their children.

Today, some Native youth are learning their languages in schools. But Boyer said many of them still aren't invested. "They see it as another homework assignment."

Boyer and Hoy work on some last-minute adjustments to his AI-powered SkoBot before presenting at his school's end-of-year showcase, called the STEAM Museum.

(

Kadin Mills

/

NPR

)

That's why she invented the SkoBot. It's a customizable toy robot designed to get Indigenous children excited to learn their languages.

"I can say 'Hey SkoBot, what is bear?' And it will say, 'Bear is makwa, makwa,' and it'll repeat it, right? So I can say, 'What is crane?' It'll say, 'Crane is ajijaak, ajijaak.'"

SkoBots use a form of artificial intelligence to speak Indigenous languages, and they're small enough to mount on the user's shoulder. They sort of resemble mini R2-D2 droids, from Star Wars, except these robots are designed to look like woodland creatures and decorated in Native American florals.

Through a nonprofit she started when she was 18, Boyer, now 25, has mentored hundreds of Native American children across the country, teaching them to build SkoBots of their own. One of them is 12-year-old Holden Hoy in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.

"I was already a big fan of robotics and how they work, how you can bring inanimate objects to life," he said. "And I'm Ojibwe, and so I've always wanted to save the Ojibwe language."

Hoy, a rising seventh-grader, showed off his design at an end-of-the-year science fair at his school, JKL Bahweting Anishinaabe School in Sault Ste. Marie. Like Boyer, he is a member of the Sault Tribe.

He programmed his SkoBot to answer three questions ahead of his presentation. One of them was, "What's your name," to which the robot would respond in Hoy's voice: "Aaniin, Hello. Sabe indizhinikaaz, Bahweting indoonjibaa. I was built by Holden Hoy. I will not gain sentience and take over the world. Or will I?"

Hoy named his SkoBot Sabe, which means Bigfoot in Anishinaabemowin. In Ojibwe culture, Bigfoot represents honesty, one of seven sacred teachings.

His classmates and their parents stopped by his booth to see Sabe in action. Boyer was there too, helping Hoy with his presentation.

"I'm very happy that people are actually coming to this booth," Hoy said. "I'm happy that they are learning things, and I'm really happy that I'm part of the Ojibwe."

Sabe has one eye, a sensor that detects movement and lets it know to start listening.

Hoy's Sabe, or Bigfoot, SkoBot on display (right), alongside three other SkoBots that Boyer brought with her to show off at the STEAM Museum. Each represents a specific animal: a wolf, turtle and bear. Hoy's SkoBot is 3D printed in light gray, and its face is adorned with a footprint surrounded by floral designs.

(

Kadin Mills

/

NPR

)

"Basically, when it hears that one trigger word, it then plays a prerecorded audio file. So there isn't synthetic speech, there isn't any generative AI," said Boyer. "It's simply listening to what you're saying, identifying it and playing [audio files] that already exist."

That means the SkoBots will never make things up, often called AI hallucinations. Hoy said it's important not to use generative AI. "AI tends to falsify things a lot, not get things from trustworthy sources."

Boyer's goal isn't to replace interactions with real language speakers. Instead, it's to get kids interested in not only their languages, but in subjects like science, math and engineering as well. That includes getting them to think about how to use AI ethically.

"Artificial intelligence, especially when it's not created by Indigenous people, stands to do a lot of harm to our communities," she said. "When you are putting accurate information into these models … you're giving away sacred information to companies that don't have our best interests at heart."

And as chatbots have become more popular, Boyer said some people have turned to them to help them learn their languages. She's even seen large language models like ChatGPT invent fake words in Anishinaabemowin, which she said is dangerous. "If we're not learning our language correctly, we shouldn't learn it at all."

Jocelyn Hoy is Holden's mom. She's excited that her son is not only exposed to their culture, but he's eager to know more. She said he's even been teaching her new things.

"As someone who, at a time in my life, did not want to be identified as Native American … now as an adult, I cannot wait to learn more, and I think the SkoBots are going to help me and so many kids — so many people in general — learn their heritage and who they are."

Holden Hoy said that heritage and the language are inseparable: "The language is the culture!"

He added, "It is important to protect it, because it's some people's way of life. Generation after generation is based around this culture."

Edited by: Steve Drummond and Lauren Migaki
Visual design and development by: LA Johnson
Copyright 2026 NPR