The Brief

Marilyn Martinez said she graduated high school wondering if she was “good enough.”

She was one of a handful of Latino students at a predominantly white campus, where many of her classmates’ parents had careers in law and medicine. No one in Martinez’s family had gone to college. Her teachers steered her away from Advanced Placement courses.

Compared with her classmates, Martinez often felt she was lacking.

“I was doing well,” she recalled. “But I wasn't thriving.”

After she enrolled at Pasadena City College, however, Martinez bloomed. A counselor called her in to say she had the grades to transfer anywhere.

“Even Harvard?” she joked.

“Yes,” he told her. And he wasn’t kidding. The community college staff encouraged Martinez to be ambitious.

And to pursue her academic goals, she wanted the kind of support she didn’t get in high school.

Research shows most community college students aspire to earn a bachelor’s degree, but only about a third transfer to a university. The numbers are even more dismal for students who’ve been historically underrepresented. What kind of guidance these students receive can often be critical to whether or not they transfer and graduate.

When Martinez thought about next steps, she knew she wanted to stay close to home. On a campus bulletin, she saw a flyer for a program at UCLA, geared at helping prospective students transfer. She applied on a whim, in part because it promised a chance to live in the dorms. That program proved to be transformative.

Martinez went on to earn a bachelor’s degree at UCLA. Today, she works for that program, helping others do the same.

What does the Scholars Program provide, and who’s eligible?

Earlier this year, a report from Columbia University’s Community College Research Center found that “[d]espite surveys indicating that nearly 80% of community college students aspire to earn a bachelor’s degree, only about a third transfer to a four-year institution.”

And among those who manage to transfer, less than half go on to earn a bachelor’s degree within six years of enrolling at a community college.

The study, which examines state-by-state transfer rates and outcomes by student subgroup, also found that low-income students (11%), students who are 25 years or older (6%), Black students (9%), and Latino students (13%) transfer and complete bachelor’s degrees at even lower rates than community college students overall (16%).

The Scholars Program is run by UCLA's Center for Community College Partnerships. It aims to disrupt bleak transfer rates by providing targeted support for students who’ve been historically underserved in higher education. This includes — but isn’t limited to — students who are the first in their family to go to college; students from low-income backgrounds; formerly incarcerated students; parenting students; undocumented students; former foster youth; and men of color.

CCCP has partnerships with 17 community colleges in Southern California. At these campuses, program coordinators like Martinez — who are often transfer students themselves — help prospective students learn about what it has to offer. Then, once the students are admitted, they gain access to a year’s worth of free guidance.

In the summer, students have the option of taking a UCLA class for six weeks, giving them a chance to earn UC credit before they even transfer. Students can also partake in the program’s residential experience.

These students “get to stay at a dorm, immersed in campus life,” said Aaron Tann. He is the center’s innovation coordinator, working to spread awareness about the program online. Tann also oversees the center’s partnerships with Antelope Valley College, Compton College, and Long Beach City College.

The overnight option, he said, really enables students “to see themselves at a place like UCLA.” Tann speaks from experience; just a few years ago, he attended Citrus College in Glendora.

For students who are more pressed for time, the program offers one-day campus visits, complete with a tour and networking opportunities, as well as webinars.

All options have the same content, Tann said. They’re offered in different ways to ensure students from all walks of life can participate.

After the summer, the community college students are paired with a peer mentor, often a current UCLA student who transferred from the same school. In the fall, the program provides guidance with college applications — regardless of whether the community college students plan to pursue a degree at UCLA or anywhere else. This support includes feedback on the students’ answers to the UC system’s personal insight questions, which are meant to distinguish applicants from the crowd.

In the winter, the program helps students get financial aid. Students learn about grants, loans, and scholarships, of course. But through webinars like “Hustlenomics,” Martinez said they’re also encouraged to think creatively about ways to fund their education, including having a side gig for extra cash. Come spring, the community college students prepare to transition to a university.

Aaron Tann (in the center, wearing a gray hoodie) with other men of color at UCLA's Scholars Program in 2019.

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Courtesy of Aaron Tann

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UCLA's transfer admission rate is about 26%. By comparison, 95% of Scholars Program participants are admitted to at least one UC, and 50% are admitted to UCLA, Tann said via email.

Beyond academics and financial aid

In addition to financial aid workshops and application support, the Scholars Program provides opportunities for students to connect with other prospective transfer students, educators, and professionals.

These experiences, Tann said, are significant because they enable students to learn about specific resources and connect with communities that already exist at UCLA.

When Tann was a community college student, for instance, he appreciated the programming for men of color. These gatherings, he said, gave prospective students “a space for us to be vulnerable and share without any judgment.” The students, Tann added, also had a chance to speak with male professionals of color about their college experiences.

Those opportunities to build community proved to be long-lasting. When Tann transferred to UCLA, he sometimes bumped into other men of color who’d been in the program. When they did cross paths, they’d greet each other with an enthusiastic “MOC!”

You belong 

The program also finds a role for family members.

When Martinez was a student at Pasadena City College, her mom accompanied her to UCLA for the summer dorm experience. Before dropping her off, she wanted to know her daughter would be safe.

The program hosted a family welcome. Martinez grew worried. This required that prospective students and their parents break off into separate groups.

“I didn't want to split up from my mom,” she said. Her mom predominantly speaks Spanish, so Martinez was accustomed to sitting together at “every school-related thing, explaining the context [and] maybe translating.” 

Martinez’s mom noticed she was worried. “It’s fine,” she told her daughter. “If I need you, I’ll text you.”

Learning about the laborers involved with UCLA's brick buildings gave Marilyn Martinez a sense of belonging.

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Courtesy of Marilyn Martinez

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When Martinez and her mom regrouped, she learned that her mom had heard from a UCLA student who was graduating alongside her children. Plus, because the parent session had been in Spanish, Martinez’s mom had felt comfortable asking questions about how to support her daughter with the transfer process.

“It was really life-changing, not just for me but for her as well,” Martinez said.

Another thing Martinez appreciated about that experience was a campus tour that emphasized the contributions of student activists, people of color, and those from working-class backgrounds.

When she and her cohort passed by Royce Hall, their tour guide pointed out the building’s red bricks. Martinez learned that every brick at UCLA was made by Mexican laborers at the Dixon brickyard in East Los Angeles.

“And they were saying: ‘This place was made by people like us. So if you don't feel like you belong, you do,’” she recalled.

Martinez graduated from UCLA in 2022, with a degree in sociology and Chicana and Chicano studies. When she spoke at her commencement ceremony, she recognized an old high school classmate in the crowd, someone whose intellect she’d marveled at as a teenager. It felt good to know they were in the same place.

“Unprecedented.”

That’s the word that the National Weather Service is using to describe the upcoming heat wave, which could bring near-triple-digit temperatures to the coastal areas of Southern California over the next week.

Temperatures could be high enough to make this the hottest March on record, even though we’re only 10 days into the month.

This week’s heat

As high pressure builds over the area, the first peak of the heat wave is expected to arrive on Thursday and Friday, with temperatures 30 degrees above normal in some spots. The coastal valleys (San Gabriel and San Fernando) could see temperatures in the upper 90s to 100s, while those along the coast will have to sweat through temperatures in the low to mid-90s. Desert areas will be slightly cooler, with temperatures in the upper 80s. Santa Ana winds are also likely, boosting temperatures and drying things out to a more severe degree.

Next week's heat

While we’ll get a slight reprieve over the weekend, the heat is expected to ramp back up to similarly extreme levels next week, though the exact days are unclear as it’s still a bit far out. There are some signs that the heat could break by the end of the next week, but that’s not certain.

“It’s hard to place into words how rare this will be,” said Robbie Munroe, meteorologist for the National Weather Service in Oxnard. The NWS will likely issue some sort of heat advisory due to the health risk the weather poses. “Normally we don’t have to communicate this type of messaging in March."

How does this effect the water supply?

Snowpack in the Northern Sierra — where California gets a substantial amount of water — is at just 34% of normal for early March. The Colorado River Basin is at 67% of normal. While California’s reservoirs are in good standing, it could be a rough year ahead for water. Much of the West is currently experiencing drought conditions.

What kind of fire risk is there?

There should be enough soil moisture left from earlier rains to prevent any fast moving fires from breaking out during this wave, though quick-drying grasses could be a risk.

It's the deadliest year for those in immigration detention in more than two decades.

More people have died in Immigration and Customs Enforcement custody since October — 23 — than died in the whole prior fiscal year.

The most recent death was of a 56-year-old Haitian man held at an immigration detention center in Arizona. He died in a hospital after going into septic shock.

The increase in deaths comes as nearly 70,000 people are in ICE detention, the highest number in several years.

Former agency officials and immigration advocates have warned that detaining more people — coupled with reduced oversight — will increase the likelihood of more fatalities.

"The abhorrent and worsening conditions in detention centers, gross negligence, and a complete lack of oversight have contributed to yet another grim record for deaths in ICE custody," said Jennifer Ibañez Whitlock, senior policy counsel at the National Immigration Law Center, an immigrant rights defense organization.

"As a country, we cannot accept that death in federal custody is an acceptable or inevitable outcome of American immigration policy."

The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) did not respond to a request for comment on the death count.

Democratic lawmakers have also raised questions about the increasing numbers of deaths in detention and detainees' access to health care, as well as the lag in reporting deaths to the public.

"At no time during detention is a detained alien denied emergency care," ICE stated in a press release announcing the death of the man in Arizona.

Last summer, Congress gave DHS about $70 billion to hire more staff, including deportation and detention officers, and increase its detention space, as part of Republicans' One Big Beautiful Bill Act spending and tax package.

But rapidly scaling up immigration arrests has contributed to overcrowding, unsanitary conditions and issues with food and health care access in detention centers, according to media reports and immigration advocates.

In January, detainees had confirmed cases of measles at the Florence Detention Center in Arizona and at the Dilley Immigration Processing Center in Texas, which houses families. Another outbreak was reported this month at Camp East Montana, a facility in Texas that has also separately had three deaths.

The department at the time defended the steps it took after the outbreak in Florence and Dilley, including quarantining people and controlling the spread of infection.

Steps to keep detainees healthy

Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, whom President Trump is replacing, detailed the steps the agency takes to prevent fatalities.

"Medical treatment is provided to individuals in our processing and detention centers," she told senators. "Within 12 hours, they have a medical examination, we get them the prescriptions and medication that they need. They also have a full evaluation."

In general, the agency says detainees receive a full health assessment within 14 days of entering ICE custody or arriving at a facility, as well as getting access to medical appointments and 24-hour emergency care.

"ICE is actively recruiting healthcare professionals, including doctors, nurses, psychiatrists, pharmacists, and health administrators, to support the expanded detention capacity enabled by the historic funding provided under President Trump's One Big Beautiful Bill," a DHS spokesperson said in a statement, but declined to provide an update on the recruitment efforts.

Still, medical professionals who were assigned to work in immigration detention centers told NPR they witnessed chaotic screenings – and life-threatening delays in getting medicine and care to detainees. Overcrowded and understaffed conditions have pushed some to quit.

Austin Kocher, an assistant research professor at Syracuse University studying the immigration enforcement system, said the skyrocketing detention population alone may not explain the increase in deaths.

"This is a captive population with documented concerns about care, and it's a system that's grown incredibly quickly," Kocher said. "My concern is that these deaths are preventable, not just a function of simple demographics."

He pointed to a 2024 study from the American Civil Liberties Union and other advocacy groups that found the vast majority of the 52 deaths in immigration detention from 2017-2021 would have been prevented if people had received "clinically appropriate" medical care, such as providing access to needed medications or timely treatment.

Investigating deaths in custody

The Civil Rights and Civil Liberties office at DHS, the ICE Health Services Corps and the Immigration Office of Detention Oversight typically investigate any death in ICE custody.

But the civil rights office was among the oversight offices that experienced hundreds of staff cuts over the past year. Other employees have told NPR that the gutting of their office could result in more deaths in custody.

DHS oversight has also been affected by recent government shutdowns. During the 43-day full government shutdown last fall, DHS said its Office of Detention Oversight was shut. Five people died in custody during this time.

DHS did not respond to questions from NPR about whether the office is working during the current shutdown of the agency, which is now in its fourth week. It instead referred questions on shutdown impacts to the Office of Management and Budget. OMB did not respond.

Recent incidents include "medical distress," struggles with officers

Medical conditions surrounding deaths over the last few months have included heart-related issues and drug withdrawals, while others had unknown causes.

Each preliminary death report from DHS includes a synopsis of the detainees' immigration and criminal histories, as well as the events leading up to the time of death.

One man, Fouad Saeed Abdulkadir, had been in immigration custody for 215 days and was awaiting an immigration court hearing when he suffered "medical distress." Another, 25-year-old Jose Castro-Rivera, was killed by a truck during an arrest.

Another man, Geraldo Lunas Campos, died after a "struggle" with security staff at a detention center in Texas, according to DHS. Lunas Campos' death was classified as a homicide.

"ICE takes seriously the health and safety of all those detained in our custody. This is still an active investigation, and more details are forthcoming," the agency said in a January post on social media about Lunas Campos' case.

Democrats criticize the death count and reporting lag 

Democratic senators wrote to Noem in February, asking for more information on detainee healthcare, oversight, and standards.

"It is unacceptable that record numbers of people are dying in ICE custody," Judiciary Committee members wrote in February. "Each death in ICE custody is a tragedy and, based on the evidence available from agency records, 911 calls, and medical experts, many could have been prevented if not for this Administration's decisions."

Democrats have also raised concerns about reporting delays.

ICE promises to post a news release with initial relevant details on the public website within two business days. At times, there are delays while the agency notifies the next of kin. Congress requires that ICE publicize all reports regarding in-custody deaths within 90 days.

An NPR review of webpages and announcements shows that ICE's detainee death reporting site had a lag in updating fiscal year 2026 numbers. Some deaths, such as Lunas Campos', were notified after the two-day period. The page is currently updated through early January.

Georgia senators previously wrote to DHS requesting more information on the increase in deaths last year, including the death of one man while was being transferred from a county jail to the Stewart Detention Center, and another of an apparent suicide. In a response from ICE in February, the agency declined to answer several questions about the specific incidents, citing pending investigations.

In response to the death during a transfer, the agency did say that transportation contractors are not medical providers and that CoreCivic, a private prison company, is actively recruiting to fill mental health staff vacancies.

DHS also said it seeks to make sure staff are trained properly in identifying mental health concerns and preventing suicides.

It said the DHS division responsible for the bulk of detentions and deportations, known as Enforcement and Removal Operations, or ERO, "holds regular town hall and recall meetings where ERO discusses the importance of mental health awareness and equips the team with the tools to recognize and respond appropriately," according to the response sent to Georgia's Democratic Sens. Jon Ossoff and Raphael Warnock.

NPR's Martin Kaste contributed to this report.
Copyright 2026 NPR

With the removal of the black-box warning on hormone therapy for menopause, some providers and patients report shortages or delays, waiting for a pharmacy to restock transdermal estrogen patches.

When Jennifer Skoog Mondesir headed to the pharmacy to pick up her estrogen patch, she never knew what she'd find.

Mondesir, who is in her late 40s and in perimenopause, relies on the patch to help improve symptoms, including low energy. She lives in Jersey City, N.J. But last summer, she started running into a frustrating wall.

"I went to CVS. I can't tell you the amount of times I've been there and they're like, 'We're out of patches,'" she says. Or they'd tell her to check back tomorrow. "So it was like a monthly mad scramble," Mondesir says.

Mondesir is not alone. Doctors who prescribe hormone therapy to manage menopausal symptoms report rolling shortages and delays, which are in part due to rising demand. It's a reversal from the early 2000s, when the treatment fell sharply out of favor.

Dr. Nora Lansen, chief medical officer of Elektra Health, says use of hormone therapy has grown steadily over the past several years as both clinicians and patients have taken a fresh look at the evidence.

"Over the past four to five years, demand has picked up as clinicians have familiarized themselves with current research and patients have become more interested," Lansen said.

The shift is a turnaround from the early 2000s, when hormone therapy use plummeted. Back then, the Food and Drug Administration placed a black box warning — the strongest safety label — on estrogen products, following results from the large Women's Health Initiative study. It found women on hormone therapy faced increased risks of heart attacks, strokes and pulmonary embolism, "which of course incited grave concern among users and prescribers," Lansen says.

Last year, the FDA removed that black box warning, pointing to evolving evidence of safety, newer methods of delivering hormone therapy and alternative combinations of products.

One key change is how estrogen is delivered. As an alternative to oral estrogen pills, which is what the women in the Women's Health Initiative study took, many women now use estrogen patches or gels, which deliver the hormone through the skin, bypassing a first pass through the liver. Lansen says that distinction matters.

"The transdermal version of estradiol has a lower risk of blood clots, and a blood clot can cause a heart attack [or] a stroke. So without passing through the liver and its metabolism, this transdermal version of estradiol is really a much safer option. And that's why there's been such demand," she says.

CVS, in a statement to NPR, confirmed that manufacturers have been unable to provide sufficient supplies of several estrogen products. The American Society of Health-System Pharmacists lists multiple estrogen products with current or recent shortages, but the manufacturers do not give a reason for the shortages.

A spokesperson for Amneal Pharmaceuticals, one of the companies that makes estradiol patches, wrote in a statement to NPR that "following the FDA's removal of boxed warnings on hormone replacement therapy, we have seen a significant increase in demand." The company is meeting its current contracts and is working to increase production to help meet growing demand, the statement said.

For Mondesir, a personal trainer, the stakes felt high. Before starting hormone therapy, fatigue was a daily battle.

"I have to show up to my clients with energy. And I found that I would have to have a second, third cup of coffee, which is not like me," she says.

After switching to an online pharmacy, she has been able to fill her prescription without disruptions or delays.

"My energy level is much better," she says. And she hopes as supply and demand even out, the shortages and delays will cease.

Copyright 2026 NPR