The Brief

Gov. Gavin Newsom stepped up to a lectern on a March day three years ago and proposed a new solution to one of the state’s most difficult problems: How to help the thousands of Californians sleeping on the streets while suffering from severe mental illness.

After all, he said, everything the state has done before has failed. One of the state’s prior attempts — a treatment referral program called Laura’s Law — helped just 218 people during the 2018-19 fiscal year, he said.

“That certainly is not demonstrable progress,” Newsom said. His new program would be different.

But in the nearly two years since Newsom launched CARE Court, it has reached only a few hundred people. That's barely more than the law he criticized, and certainly not the thousands he promised.

CalMatters requested CARE Court data from every county in California and conducted more than 30 interviews to compile the first detailed, statewide look at the program. Up and down California, the data show low numbers, a slow rollout and predictions that wildly outpaced reality.

The program was designed to allow family members, first responders, doctors and others to petition the courts on behalf of someone with severe psychosis who can’t take care of themselves. If the petition is accepted, that person can then agree to voluntary treatment, which can include counseling, medication, housing and more.

If they refuse, a judge can order them to participate in a treatment plan.

CalMatters received responses from all but four of the state’s 58 counties. Here’s what the data shows:

• While Newsom’s administration estimated between 7,000 and 12,000 Californians would qualify for CARE Court, just 2,421 petitions have been filed through July, according to the Judicial Council of California. Only 528 of those have resulted in treatment agreements or plans.
• San Diego County anticipated receiving 1,000 petitions in the first year and establishing court-ordered treatment plans for 250 people. But in nearly two years, the county instead has received just 384 petitions and established 134 voluntary agreements.
• Los Angeles County saw 511 petitions filed – the most in the state. Of those, 112 resulted in care agreements or plans. In 2023, officials predicted to news organizations the county could enroll 4,500 people in the first year.
• Courts across California are dismissing a significant percentage of CARE Court petitions – about 45% statewide, although that number includes the handful of cases in which someone has successfully “graduated” from the program. The rate is even higher in some counties, such as San Francisco, where nearly two-thirds of petitions are thrown out. 
• The allure of CARE Court for many supporters was the promise of court-ordered treatment plans that would encourage sick people to accept the help they’d been resisting. But the courts have ordered just 14 treatment plans so far, according to the Judicial Council. Instead, most counties are solely offering voluntary treatment “agreements,” which sick people are free to ignore.
• Very few people have successfully completed CARE Court. Despite the fact that it has the most petitions, Los Angeles County has had no graduations. Nine counties have been operating CARE Court long enough to have graduations (the program takes at least a year to complete). 

“It’s going much more slowly than we thought it would,” said Lisa U’Ren, a former member of the board of directors at the Solano County branch of the National Alliance on Mental Illness, who helped roll out the program in her county.

The stakes are high for Newsom, who has tied his legacy in part to big promises that he would address California’s twin problems of homelessness and inadequate mental health services. The establishment of CARE Court was followed by a 2023 law intended to make it easier for a judge to order someone into involuntary treatment. A successful 2024 ballot measure issued $6.4 billion in debt to pay for new mental health housing.

State officials say CARE Court needs more time to hit the goals initially set by the Newsom administration. Already some counties are doing an “incredible job,” said Stephanie Welch, deputy secretary of behavioral health for the state Health and Human Services Agency. She pointed to Alameda County, which has racked up 125 petitions — among the most in the state – since December.

“I think this has been a complicated program to implement,” Welch said, “and that’s something that we recognize and we’ve been doing our best to support the counties to be able to expand this program.”

A spokesperson for Newsom’s office said the administration is pleased with what the program has accomplished so far.

“Thanks to the CARE Act, thousands of people are engaging in critical behavioral health treatment through stabilizing medications, community-based care, and — if needed — housing,” Elana Ross said in an emailed statement.

But disability rights organizations say the low numbers are evidence that the program was a waste of money, a reactionary political gambit by a governor with presidential aspirations. And many families who initially threw their support behind CARE Court also say it has come up short.

Anita Fisher advocated for the program when Newsom proposed it, speaking on 60 Minutes about her family’s story and meeting with the governor himself, she said. When the program was piloted in San Diego County, where she lives, she felt hopeful about its promise to treat people with serious mental illness, like her son.

“I've watched my son suffer too many times: jail, prison, homeless,” she said. “And I said, ‘so if this can stop that?’ I said, ‘Yes, I'm all for it.’”

But now?

“I look at it as a total failure.”

A petition could be rejected because the person doesn’t meet the narrow eligibility criteria (only people with schizophrenia and other limited psychotic disorders qualify). When the subject of a petition is homeless, outreach workers sometimes have trouble finding them on the street. Other times, the client simply refuses services – and, CARE Court has little teeth to force them to accept, even after a judge’s order.

Making more people eligible for CARE Court

A bill making its way through the Legislature could boost CARE Court numbers by making more people eligible. If Sen. Thomas Umberg’s Senate Bill 27 becomes law, people who experience psychotic symptoms as a result of bipolar disorder would qualify for the program.

The program as it stands is not broken, the senator said, it’s a “work in progress” that needs some tweaking to reach its full potential.

“To some degree, expectations were raised, some that were accurate, some that were not accurate, that this was going to be a panacea,” Umberg said. “And I never thought of it that way.”

But it’s unclear how many more people could enter into CARE Court as a result of Umberg’s bill. His office has no estimate, and other guesses vary widely. San Diego County says the bill could increase its numbers by anywhere from 3.5% to 48.1%.

Many disability rights organizations strongly oppose the bill, saying it will significantly expand an ineffective program, doing nothing to solve underlying issues of housing shortages and inadequate mental health services

“They’re not trying to fix a problem, they’re trying to deliver political optics, and that’s all this ever was,” said Lex Steppling, a founding member of All People’s Health Collective.

Eve Garrow, a senior policy analyst with the American Civil Liberties Union of Southern California, said that, “given what I consider to be the failure of CARE Court so far,” she expects Umberg’s bill is primarily an effort to increase the number of petitions.

“A court order doesn’t make resources appear out of thin air,” she said.

The jury box in a double-jury courtroom at San Diego Superior Court in downtown San Diego on Aug. 12, 2025. Jurors in these courtrooms participate in joint trials with multiple defendants.

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Adriana Heldiz

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CalMatters

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The state spent $88.3 million on CARE Court in the 2022-23 fiscal year, and $71.3 million in 2023-24, according to a Legislative Analyst’s Office analysis. With fewer than 550 people receiving services through the program so far, critics accuse CARE Court of wasting state money.

The Assembly Judiciary Committee’s July analysis of SB 27 described CARE Court as a “very expensive” way to coordinate services.

But California counties say the low numbers of CARE agreements don’t capture the entirety of the program’s impact. Even petitions that don’t lead to official agreements have afforded counties the chance to connect with and offer services to people they hadn’t previously known.

“I would say that I think the whole idea of looking at the numbers, it sort of misses the point,” said Michelle Doty Cabrera, executive director of the California Behavioral Health Directors Association. “With anything coercive, the goal is to try to engage people out of their own free will into services.”

One of CARE Court’s successes, she said, has been in spreading the word about county services to people who might need them. If those people then express interest without the need for any coercion, “that’s a success and so far that has not been quantified,” she said.

The state has attempted to quantify that elusive number: As of December, people were diverted away from CARE Court and into other county services 1,358 times, according to a recent report from the Health and Human Services Agency.

Counties administering CARE Court also said it’s one of the few state programs that funds outreach. It can require a lot of attempts before outreach workers can coax certain people into services, they said, and this provides a mechanism to pay for those efforts.

A flood of petitions that never materialized

Eight California counties rolled out CARE Court at the end of 2023, as part of a pilot group. The rest of the state had the program up and running by December 2024.

As San Diego County counted down to the launch, officials worried they would be flooded with petitions immediately, said Amber Irvine, the county’s behavioral health program coordinator.

The county hired nearly two-dozen people, including 10 clinicians, two psychologists and support staff to meet the expected demand. The money for those new positions came from county funds, not from the state.

That flood of petitions never materialized.

Irvine thinks the process of filing a petition was harder than expected. Her team thought first responders, hospitals and behavioral health workers would jump at the chance to refer people into the program. But that didn’t happen. The petitioner has to attend at least the first court hearing, which is something many overworked first responders and clinicians can’t do, Irvine said.

Police and firefighters filed petitions when the program first started, but they were often dismissed — which made the first responders reluctant to file more, said Crystal Robbins, who manages a treatment referral program for San Diego Fire-Rescue.

“We quickly found out that it wasn’t a useful tool for the people that we see,” she said.

A homeless encampment on a sidewalk in San Diego, on July 31, 2023.

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Mike Blake

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The process also is tough for families petitioning on behalf of loved ones, Irvine said. It requires them to prove their loved one has a qualifying mental health condition, but federal privacy laws can make that a big hurdle.

The county is trying to make the process less cumbersome, Irvine said. It is letting family members and some other petitioners attend court hearings virtually, for example. And in some cases, the court is allowing petitions to move on to the next step even if they don’t have all the required paperwork.

So far, San Diego County Superior Court has received the second-largest number of petitions in the state — 384, with 35% leading to CARE agreements.

But that’s still far behind initial projections.

The slow start could be a “happy accident,” Irvine said, because the low case load allows clinicians to spend more time with each CARE Court client.

But Anita Fisher isn’t the only family member who feels discouraged about the program’s roll out in San Diego.

Tanya Fedak said she has twice filed petitions in the county on behalf of her son, who continues to cycle between homelessness and jail despite being accepted into CARE Court.

“These are our loved ones,” she said. “It's our taxpayers’ money. There's no accountability. And it's frustrating to see it go down, because my son is going to end up dead.”

Orange County, which was part of the initial CARE Court cohort, expected to receive 1,400 petitions and establish between 400 and 600 treatment plans its first year. Two years later, it has received at least 176 petitions , reached 14 CARE agreements and ordered one CARE plan, according to the county’s behavioral health department. That doesn’t include additional petitions that could have been dismissed by the court before reaching the county.

Orange County was the only superior court in the state with a significant number of petitions that did not disclose its data to CalMatters.

Veronica Kelley, director of the Orange County Health Care Agency, said she never expected to reach as many people as the original estimate. She attributed that in part to the county already reaching many people with schizophrenia spectrum disorder through its existing assisted outpatient treatment program (the program created by the law Newsom criticized at the 2023 press conference), which provides similar services to CARE Court.

Kelley believes expanding the older program would have been a better use of the resources now going to CARE Court. In part, she said, that’s because Orange County’s assisted outpatient program makes it easy for people to ask the county for help, whereas filing a CARE petition is “a laborious process” that requires significant work from the petitioner.

Other people blame the low CARE Court numbers on a lack of awareness.

After CARE Court rolled out in Solano County, the local branch of the National Alliance on Mental Illness hosted town halls to teach the community about the program. An in-person town hall drew about 10 people, said NAMI Solano County Executive Director Deb Demello. Two Zoom meetings drew about four people each. And they didn’t see people from the main group they were trying to reach: family members of people with a severe mental illness.

“We had very little turn out,” Demello said.

CARE Court use varies widely county by county, with some smaller counties appearing to struggle with the resources to implement the program. Colusa County, with a population of fewer than 22,000 people on the edge of the Mendocino National Forest, told the state last year that its courts weren’t prioritizing CARE Court because of court vacancies. The county has received just one petition.

Eight small counties, including Mendocino and San Benito, said they’ve had no petitions filed.

Some county courts refused to disclose their data to CalMatters because the numbers were too small, citing the California Rules of Court, which allow courts to withhold data if the sample size is so small that people could be identified.

Courts are required to report limited CARE Court data to the California Judicial Council, including the number of petitions submitted, number of agreements and plans, and number of dismissals. But the council would give only statewide totals to CalMatters, not a county-by-county breakdown.

Will expanding CARE Court help more people?

Even if someone becomes one of the few Californians represented in a CARE Court petition, it doesn’t mean they’ll get help.

In San Francisco, the majority of petitions filed end up getting dismissed – 49 of the 75 — or 65% — of those filed. That’s one of the highest dismissal rates in the state.

Some counties, including San Francisco, told CalMatters that people may still receive services even if their CARE Court petition is dismissed. But a state report released in July found that of the 160 people whose petitions were dismissed during the first nine months of CARE Court, 90 did not receive county behavioral health services.

Of the 130 petitions dismissed in Los Angeles County between December 2023 and February of this year, 43 were dismissed because the person was already receiving “adequate mental health services,” according to a report by the county’s department of mental health. It’s the most common reason for a dismissal in that county.

State Sen. Tom Umberg in the Senate chambers of the state Capitol on Dec. 5, 2022.

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Martin do Nascimento

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CalMatters

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Umberg wants to address that with his bill. Currently, someone can’t qualify for CARE Court if they are already “clinically stabilized” in another treatment program. Umberg’s bill would clarify that just being enrolled in an outside treatment program doesn’t mean someone is stable. He hopes that will cut down on the number of people whose petitions are dismissed even though their mental illness is not under control.

His bill would also make it easier for the criminal justice system to funnel people into CARE Court, by allowing a judge to refer someone directly into the program if they are charged with a misdemeanor and deemed incompetent to stand trial.

Irvine, San Diego County’s behavioral health program coordinator, is not thrilled about Umberg’s plan to expand CARE Court. The California Behavioral Health Directors Association also opposes the bill.

Irvine takes pride in the amount of time and energy her staff put into each CARE Court client. She says they spend weeks or even months getting to know them, bringing them their favorite foods, and helping with minor tasks, such as getting a new phone, before finally convincing them to participate in the program. In at least one case, that process took as long as five months, she said.

By some accounts, San Diego County’s approach is working. It has had 10 graduations so far, the most of any county that reported that metric to CalMatters.

Adding a lot more people into the program would give clinicians less time to spend with each client, Irvine said. And Umberg’s bill doesn’t come with money to hire more staff.

The county data in this story is based on public record requests to California county courts and behavioral health departments about CARE Court usage. See full methodology and download the data.

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

This story first appeared on The LA Local.

Since 1977, Richard Santillan has been to every Opening Day game at Dodger Stadium. 

“The tradition goes from my father, to me, to my children and grandchildren. Some of my best memories are with my father and children here at Dodger Stadium,” Santillan told The LA Local, smiling under the shade of palm trees near the entrance to the ballpark Wednesday morning. He was there to protest the team less than 24 hours before Opening Day.

Santillan, like countless other loyal Dodgers fans, is grappling with his fan identity over the team’s decision to accept an invitation to the White House and owner Mark Walter’s ties to ICE detention facilities.

More than 30 people joined Santillan on Wednesday morning for a press conference held near 1000 Vin Scully Drive to convey a message directly to the team. 

“We are demanding the Dodgers stop participating in funding of inhumane treatment of families and do not go to the White House to celebrate with the criminal in chief,” Evelyn Escatiola told the crowd. “Together, we have the power to make a change.”

Escatiola, a former dean of East Los Angeles College and longtime community organizer, urged fans to flex their economic power by “letting the Dodgers know that we do not support repression.”

Jorge “Coqui” Rodriguez, a lifelong Dodgers fan, spoke to the crowd and called on Dodgers ownership to divest from immigration detention centers owned and operated by GEO Group and CoreCivic.

Jorge Coqui H Rodriguez speaks at a press conference outside Dodger Stadium on March 25, 2026, to demand the Dodgers not to visit the White House following their 2025 World Series win.

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J.W. Hendricks

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In a phone interview a day before the protest, Rodriguez told The LA Local he did not want the Dodgers using his “cheve” or beer money to fund detention centers. 

“They can’t take our parking money, our cacahuate money, our cheve money, our Dodger Dog money and invest those funds into corporations that are imprisoning people. It’s wrong,” Rodriguez said. 

Rodriguez considers the Dodgers one of the most racially diverse teams and said the players need to support fans at a time when heightened immigration enforcement has become more common across L.A.

The team’s 2025’s visit to the White House drew ire from the largely Latino fan base, citing the Trump administration’s ongoing attacks on immigrants. 

In June, the team came under further scrutiny when rumors swirled online that federal immigration agents were using the stadium’s parking, which immigration authorities later denied in statements posted on social media accounts.

The team again came under fire after not releasing a statement on the impacts of ICE raids on its mostly Latino fan base at the height of immigration enforcement last summer. The team later agreed to invest $1 million to support families affected by immigration enforcement.

When he learned the Dodgers were pledging only $1 million to families in need, Rodriguez called the amount a  “slap in the face.” 

“These guys just bought the Lakers for billions of dollars and they give a million dollars to fight for legal services? That’s a joke,” Rodriguez said. “They need to have a moral backbone and not be investing in those companies.”

According to reporting from the Los Angeles Times, former Dodgers pitcher Clayton Kershawsaid last week that he is looking forward to the trip.

“I went when President [Joe] Biden was in office. I’m going to go when President [Donald] Trump is in office,” Kershaw said. “To me, it’s just about getting to go to the White House. You don’t get that opportunity every day, so I’m excited to go.”

The Dodgers have yet to announce when their planned visit will take place. 

Santillan sometimes laments his decision to give up his season tickets in protest of the team. His connection to the stadium and the memories he has made there with family and friends will last a lifetime, he said. On Thursday, he will uphold his tradition and be there for the first pitch of the season, but with a heavy heart.

“It’s a family tradition, but the Dodgers have a lot of work to do,” he said.

A local favorite mom-and-pop bookshop in Eagle Rock is facing displacement due to a steep rent hike. The owners say theirs is just one of several small businesses along Eagle Rock Boulevard struggling to keep up with lease increases.

Over the past 19 years, many in the neighborhood have come to love READ Books for its eclectic collection of used titles and shop dog Florence.

Co-owner Jeremy Kaplan said it’s been a delight to grow with the community over the years.

“Like seeing kids come back in, who were in grade school and now they’re in college,” Kaplan said.

But the building where Kaplan and wife Debbie rent was recently sold, and the rent increased by more than 130% to $2,805 a month, Kaplan said. He told LAist it was an increase his small business simply could not absorb.

Kaplan said he originally was given 30 days notice of the rent increase. After some research, assistance from Councilmember Ysabel Jurado’s office and some pro-bono legal help, Kaplan said he pushed back and got the 90-day notice he’s afforded by state law.

California Senate Bill 1103 requires landlords to give businesses with five or less employees 90 days’ notice for rent increases exceeding 10%, among other protections.

Systems Real Estate, the property management company, did not immediately respond to LAist’s request for comment.

What can small businesses do? 

Nadia Segura, directing attorney of the Small Business Program at pro bono legal aid non-profit Bet Tzedek said California law does not currently allow for rent control for commercial tenancies.

Outside of the protections under SB 1103, Segura said small businesses like READ Books don’t have much other recourse. And even then, commercial landlords are not required to inform their tenants of their protections under the law.

“There’s still a lot of people that don’t know about SB 1103. And then it’s very sad that they tell them they have these rent increases and within a month they have to leave,” Segura said.

She said her group is seeing steep rent hikes like this for commercial tenants across the city.

“We are seeing this even more with the World Cup coming up, the Olympics coming up. And I will say it was very sad to see that also after the wildfires,” Segura said.

Part of Bet Tzedek’s ongoing work is to advocate for small businesses, working with landlords who are increasing rents to see if they are willing to give business owners longer leases that lock in rents.

What’s next 

After READ Books posted about their situation on social media, commenters chimed in to express their outrage and love for the little shop.

While he looks for a new spot, Kaplan says he’s forming a coalition of local businesses and activist groups to see what can be done to help other small businesses facing similar displacement. He wants to address the displacement issue for businesses like his, which have made Eagle Rock the distinctive neighborhood that it is today.

Owl Talk, a longtime Eagle Rock staple selling clothing and accessories in a unit in the same building as READ Books, is facing a “more than double” rent increase, according to a post on their Instagram account.

Kaplan said he’s been in touch with the office of state Assemblywoman Jessica Caloza and wants to explore the possibility of introducing legislation to set up protections for small businesses like his, including rent-control measures or a vacancy tax for landlords. Kaplan said he also reached out to the office of state Sen. Maria Durazo.

By his count, Kaplan said there are about a dozen businesses within surrounding blocks that are at risk of closing their doors or have shuttered due to rent increases or other struggles.

When READ Books was founded during the Great Recession, Kaplan said he knew it was a longshot to open a bookstore at the same time so many were struggling to stay in business.

“It was kind of interesting to be doing something that neighborhoods needed. That was important to me growing up, that was important to my children, that was important to my wife growing up,” Kaplan said.

“And then somebody comes in and says, ‘We’re gonna over double your rent.”

Topline:

Frozen budget: Most of the city’s Bureau of Street Lighting budget comes from an assessment that people who own property illuminated by lights pay on their county property tax bill. The amount people pay depends on the kind of property they own and how much they benefit from lighting. A typical single-family home currently pays $53 annually, and in total, the assessments bring in about $45 million annually for the city to repair and maintain streetlights. Changing the amount the Bureau of Street Lighting gets from the assessment requires a vote among property owners who benefit from the lights.

Ballots: L.A. City Council’s vote gives city staff the green light to prepare and send out those ballots. Miguel Sangalang, who oversees the bureau, said at a committee meeting earlier this month that he expects to send out ballots by April 17. Notices about the ballots will be sent out prior to the ballots themselves.

Near unanimous vote: L.A. City Councilmember Monica Rodriguez was the only “No” vote Tuesday, saying she wanted to see a more current strategic plan for the bureau. Sangalang said the bureau developed a plan in 2022 that lays out how money will be spent. Councilmember Imelda Padilla was absent for the vote.

Vote count: Votes will be weighted according to the assessment amount. Basically, the more you’re asked to pay yearly to maintain streetlights, the more your vote will count. Ballots received before June 2 will be tabulated by the L.A. City Clerk.

How much more money: According to a report, the amount needed in assessments from property owners to meet the repair and maintenance needs of the city’s streetlighting in the next fiscal year is nearly $112 million.

Use of the money: Sangalang said at a March 11 committee meeting that the extra funds would be used to double the number of staff to handle repairs and procure solar streetlights, which don’t face the threat of copper wire theft. That would all potentially reduce the time it takes to repair simple fixes down to a week. Currently, city residents wait for months to see broken streetlights repaired. The assessment would come with a three-year auditing mechanism.