The Brief

A $1,044 outing at a glitzy Hollywood nightclub. A $1,316 meal at a Los Angeles steak and seafood restaurant. A $4,500 experience to see the L.A. Dodgers. Isaac Galvan paid for them all — with campaign cash, a state probe found.

In his nine years on the Compton City Council, Galvan frequently spent campaign donations for personal purposes, kept shoddy financial records and repeatedly failed to disclose donors and expenditures accurately and on time, if at all, the California Fair Political Practices Commission concluded in its investigation.

But the probe lasted six years — so long that voters reelected Galvan twice and he left office before those violations were made public in July 2022. During the investigation, he continued to miss filing deadlines, got indicted for an alleged bribery scheme and was tossed out of office by a judge in May 2022 for election fraud.

“What took them so long?” asked lifelong Compton resident Gilda Blueford, who only learned of Galvan’s campaign finance violations from CalMatters. “If we could have known what was going on … perhaps he would not have been re-elected.”

Historically plagued by what some staff called an “enormous” backlog, California’s campaign watchdog has sometimes taken years to resolve cases — exposing violations or exonerating politicians only after they left office or won an election, a CalMatters analysis has found. While the agency has worked to expedite enforcement, advocates, officials and past and current commissioners say delayed actions can diminish public trust in the state’s ability to prosecute corruption effectively.

“If the FPPC doesn’t really clamp down on those obvious abuses quickly, then it’s a toothless watchdog,” said state Sen. Steve Glazer, an Orinda Democrat who has championed laws to tighten campaign ethics regulations.

The lag in enforcement could leave some voters in the dark in upcoming elections. As of last week:

• On the November ballot, 20 of the 305 candidates for the state Legislature, U.S. House and U.S. Senate have an open case against them, commission data shows. 
• Two of the state’s eight constitutional officers are now under investigation — Gov. Gavin Newsom for late filings and Insurance Commissioner Ricardo Lara for allegations of “laundered campaign contributions” — and both won re-election as their cases were pending.
• Seven of the eight top constitutional officers — all but Lt. Gov. Eleni Kounalakis — have had past violations, ranging from improper disclosures to illegal campaign contributions, according to commission enforcement records. 

The commission, created by California voters through a 1974 ballot measure following the Watergate scandal, has policed campaign and ethics violations statewide and in local races for 50 years. The backlog was an open secret among staffers and commissioners, with some senior counsels arguing in 2022 the problem had existed for “at least 20 years.”

Over the past decade, the agency has seen its caseload wax and wane, peaking in April 2020 at 1,874 unresolved cases, staff reports show. Among cases resolved between 2017 and 2023, 15% took more than two years to close, with the longest lasting almost seven years, according to a CalMatters analysis of data obtained through a public records request.

The agency has added staff, expanded programs to educate political candidates and streamlined enforcement of minor cases while freeing up resources for more serious violations, said commission Chairperson Adam E. Silver. In 2022, it adopted a policy directive to cap the carryover caseload at 625 each year and mandated a 75% reduction in cases opened before 2023, causing the backlog to plunge, he said.

“So long as that continues, then I would say the problem of cases building up and having a ‘backlog’ that grows and grows and grows, that’s resolved,” Silver said in an interview.

But some were concerned the agency may have become more lenient as it closed cases more quickly. Last year, the commission issued the lowest dollar amount of penalties and the highest percentage of warning letters — a method reserved for low-level offenses with minimal public harm — in the past decade, according to commission reports. Four in five cases where violations were found resulted in a letter.

James Lindsay, enforcement chief of the commission, said in multiple public meetings that the increased use of warning letters was partly because the agency prioritized closing minor cases and acknowledged in June that it would become more difficult to find “easy closures.” But he assured the commission in January that the letters were never issued “in scenarios that were not justified in the past.”

Some ethics advocates, however, warned against the practice.

“Because of a policy to be caught up on mandates, you don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater,” said Sean McMorris, transparency, ethics, and accountability manager at the California Common Cause. “The answer is not less enforcement or diminished fines. The answer is more person power to enforce the law adequately.”

‘We don’t believe in the system’

Galvan — the first Latino to ever serve on the Compton City Council — was a symbol of hope for diverse representation, Blueford said.

But Galvan’s career was littered with violations, according to state and court records. He failed to file any disclosures before being elected in 2013, drawing a $1,000 fine from the commission that November. That did not stop him: He continued to file paperwork late, until in March 2017, he stopped filing altogether, according to the commission’s investigation, details of which have not been previously reported.

A month later, he was re-elected.

He also spent more than $55,000 of the money he raised between 2013 and 2017 for personal use, the investigation said. In 2017, he even posted about one of those expenses at a Beverly Hills winery on social media, according to bank records included in the probe.

During the investigation, Galvan was hard to find, at times promising to provide records he never delivered, and efforts to directly serve him the subpoena for those records failed, commission documents show. Once, he was celebrating the premiere of the movie “Daddy’s Home 2” on the day the subpoena server tried to reach him, according to his social media post. On another occasion, Galvan entered the City Hall through a “private entrance,” documents show.

The commission fined Galvan $240,000 in 2022. But the agency had not received a payment as of Oct. 9, commission spokesperson Jay Wierenga confirmed.

The agency opened the case in February 2016 and assigned it that September, adding more staff and devising a plan to investigate in June 2017, according to Wierenga and the agency’s own case chronology obtained via a public records request.

The commission’s leaders acknowledged that Galvan’s case “took too long to resolve and that staff should have been assigned sooner,” Wierenga said in an email. But he said that Galvan’s extensive violations and lack of responsiveness was why the case took longer than normal, and asserted that recent reforms will “prevent significant delays.”

Compton City Council member Isaac Galvan during a ribbon-cutting ceremony at Gonzales Park in Compton, on April 15, 2021.

(

Image of Sport/Sipa USA via Reuters

)

Compton City Council member Andre Spicer, who replaced Galvan in 2022, called the long duration of the case “a disservice.”

“I think that our lack of engagement is because we don’t believe in the system,” Spicer said. “If you have issues like this that take 10 years, eight years to sort out and damage is done, it reinforces the reasons why people don’t engage.”

Galvan and his then-bookkeeper, Gary Crummitt, did not respond to multiple inquiries over two weeks for comment. When reached by CalMatters last month, Galvan’s attorney during the investigation, Anthony Willoughby, said in an email: “There are a lot of moving parts to the matter you are seeking comment on.”

‘Notoriously slow’

Galvan’s case is among many where, by the time they were resolved, the officials in question had won an election or left office.

In the city of Campbell in 2017, council members paid for ads with taxpayer dollars to influence election outcomes on three ballot measures about marijuana regulations, the commission found. But the findings were only made public six years later, after most of those officials had left office.

Former state Assemblymember Bill Brough spent campaign cash on family cell phone plans, hotel stays and a trip to a Boston Red Sox game, according to the commission, which didn’t conclude his case until last year, three years after he left office. Even he complained: “I just wanted to go on with my life,” the Los Angeles Times reported.

And a three-year investigation into state Assemblymember Diane Papan wrapped in May, resulting in a warning letter for improper reporting of contributions when she ran for San Mateo City Council in 2020, according to records obtained by CalMatters. Papan’s campaign provided records to the agency in 2021, but the staff waited three years before reaching back out — so long that Papan’s attorney, former FPPC enforcement chief Gary Winuk, questioned the lack of action in an email to the staff, and one witness the agency interviewed said he no longer remembered details of the contributions in question, records show.

Delays could create a sense that “there’s justice denied,” said commission vice chairperson Catharine Baker. “If you act too slowly, if there isn’t a resolution, potential bad actors aren’t brought to any real significant justice, and the public can’t have faith that the rules are being enforced — that there is someone watching the henhouse.”

Some open cases have also lasted years. Newsom, for instance, has been under a previously unreported investigation since 2021 for late disclosure of behested payments — donations to a person, nonprofit or a state agency at the behest of the public official that ethics experts say can be another avenue for special interests to curry favor. Another probe for potential campaign reporting violations has also been open since 2021, commission records show.

Officials are required by state law to disclose behested payments that total $5,000 or more from a single donor in a year, and upon meeting that dollar threshold, the official must report the payments within 30 days.

Between 2019 and 2021, Newsom’s office failed to file 17 behested payments totaling more than $14 million on time, including one filed more than a year after the due date, according to records obtained by CalMatters via a public records request.

In emails to the commission, Newsom’s staff blamed the delays on donors notifying the governor’s office of the payments after filing deadlines. They also said the governor takes his “reporting obligations very seriously” and submitted the documents within days of discovering the payments.

Many of those behested payments were made during the pandemic, “when the Governor’s office was focused on the quick mobilization of resources,” Newsom spokesperson Izzy Gardon said in a statement last week. “Our office remains committed to transparency and complying with FPPC requirements.”

Lara — who accepted money in 2019 from donors with ties to insurers his agency oversaw — has been under investigation for two years for allegations of laundering campaign donations, records show. Between 2021 and 2022, insurance companies funneled $122,500 through the leadership fund of the California Legislative LGBTQ caucus — where Lara served as vice chairperson and remains an ex-officio member — to support Lara, according to a complaint filed by Carmen Balber, executive director of the advocacy group Consumer Watchdog, which has also faced criticism for not disclosing its donors.

The last time she heard from the commission, Balber said, was when it opened the investigation in May 2022.

Lara told CalMatters last month he was not in touch with the agency and referred questions to his campaign attorney. The attorney, along with other groups named in the investigation, did not respond to a CalMatters inquiry.

Former commission chairperson Ann Ravel said while some cases are complicated and time-consuming, late filings of behested payments and campaign finance forms should be easy cases to close. “We know there are deadlines,” Ravel said. “If they cannot monitor that, what are they monitoring?”

Even with complex cases, Ravel argued, swift resolution is possible. Right before the November 2012 election, the agency under her leadership forced Koch Brothers-associated groups to disclose $11 million in illegal spending on a pair of propositions through an emergency ruling from the California Supreme Court. The groups were fined $1 million a year later.

“That transparency was so important to the public, to the press, in order for there to be fairness in the system and also for people to have trust in government,” she said.

But speed is not all, Silver argued. “Just because you are spending a lot of time on one case doesn’t make it a waste of time,” he said. “It could have the effect of limiting complaints and violations in the future.”

And cases must be investigated fully for due process, even if no violations are ultimately found, said commission executive director Galena West, who led the enforcement division for five years.

“Isn’t exonerating someone also valuable for the public to know?”

The agency’s goals are to ensure public officials “act in a fair and unbiased manner,” promote government transparency and to build public trust in the political system, according to its website. State law and commission regulations do not explicitly require staff to resolve cases before elections.

But frustration lingers among campaign finance attorneys, those who filed complaints and even politicians under investigation.

“The FPPC is so notoriously slow that it’s not worth bugging them,” Balber said. “If campaign violations are not identified and prosecuted in a timely manner, then after-the-fact penalties have no impact on the elected officials who are being investigated.”

Delays create loopholes for officials willing to chock up the penalties as the cost of winning an election, said McMorris of California Common Cause, who likened the state campaign finance laws to “a tube of toothpaste under pressure.”

“There’s multiple holes in it. You plug one, those bad actors immediately go find the other hole that they can exploit,” he said. “It diminishes public trust in the democratic process and in our representatives.”

And for public officials who “inadvertently” made a mistake or who are innocent, the lengthy probe is “like a sword hanging over your head” even after leaving office, said Glazer, the state legislator.

State Treasurer Fiona Ma — who was fined $11,500 earlier this year for failing to disclose more than $860,000 in payments in her 2018 campaign — said the yearslong investigation meant extra costs to retain her treasurer and attorney.

“I’m just going to have to pay a fine at some point, so just send me the bill,” Ma, a 2026 candidate for lieutenant governor, told CalMatters. “But you know what? This is … the cost of doing business in elected office. It just is. Everybody gets fined, just how much.”

What caused the backlog?

Anecdotes of backlogs and delays reached Baker before she was appointed to the commission in 2021, she said. And early in her tenure, she quickly noticed how old cases were by the time staff presented them for commission decisions.

“I said ‘Look, there’s a problem. It’s severe. And we must do something,’” Baker said in an interview with CalMatters, joined by Wierenga, the spokesperson. “If we don’t, our tenures on this commission … will be partly a failure.”

The influx of complaints and referrals from state and local agencies contributed to the backlog, Baker said. Over the past decade, the number of complaints and referrals has generally crept up and surged in election years, peaking in 2022 with 3,103, compared to a low of 1,205 in 2015, according to the CalMatters analysis.

Lawmakers also assigned the agency more duties over the years, Baker and Wierenga noted. Wierenga said the agency’s caseload jumped in 2015 when the California Secretary of State began referring campaigns that failed to file a $50 annual fee. The commission received 2,460 referrals on May 1, 2015 — almost five times the number of referrals from all other agencies combined that year, he wrote in an email. In 2021, the enforcement of the law was transferred back to the Secretary of State.

Laws increasing disclosure of donors in campaign ads — including a 2018 law that regulated the text, color and font size — added more work for the commission, Wierenga said.

Additionally, staff responsible for parsing out complaints and referrals worth investigating sometimes opened cases when they shouldn’t have, especially under the pressure of high caseloads, Lindsay told the commission in January. Inexperienced staff also lacked understanding of the law, leaving the manager scrambling to train them, according to a 2022 memorandum by unit manager Tara Stock.

“If you’re overwhelmed, you’re not sure what the right answer is, the thought process is: ‘There’s no harm in moving that case forward,’” Lindsay said.

Burdensome “red tape” — including layers of reviews and approvals required to escalate a case — and a digital recordkeeping system that’s hard to navigate compounded the problem, staff said. In a 2022 letter, staff described the system as “slow, cumbersome, and sometimes, downright tedious.”

Some lawmakers and ethics advocates — while bemoaning slow enforcement — argue the agency is chronically understaffed and underfunded. The department’s budget and its number of employees, however, have steadily climbed — from $11.8 million and 66 employees in fiscal year 2017-18 to $19.6 million and 109 employees this year, according to state budget records. 

The increases were largely tied to additional duties, however, and the agency’s base funding is not adequate, argued McMorris of California Common Cause. Elected officials may lack the political will to dedicate more money to the agency, or to expand the agency’s authority, McMorris said.

“You are essentially asking the politicians who are being policed by this agency to increase the budget for policing,” he said. “There’s a tendency to do the least amount and only do it when there’s a scandal or evidence that something’s being exploited.”

The commission has only been audited once — in 1998 — in its entire 50-year history. That’s because “elected leaders have decided it’s not in their interest to do so,” said Glazer.

Efforts to speed up enforcement

Over the years, the agency has created and expanded programs to expedite cases with minor violations. While commission leaders argue the steps can prevent backlogs, some ethics advocates say some programs are applied too broadly and could give bad actors too much leniency.

To free up staff to pursue more egregious cases, the commission created a “streamline program” in May 2015 and has since expanded it to include lower-tier violations, such as late filings, contributions above limits and recordkeeping errors. The cases often result in lower penalties approved by the enforcement chief. Between 2015 and 2023, an average of 20% of cases closed with violations found each year went through that program, according to executive staff reports.

The commission also has had an educational program since 2022 to allow inexperienced offenders with low-harm violations to complete a class to avoid penalties. The Legislature funded three full-time staffers for the program last year, and 280 public officials had completed the courses by August.

The program helps the commission spot those who flout the law, Silver said. “If you are taking that course for three hours, and you engage in the same violation … this person is acting in bad faith.”

In 2022, the agency adopted the policy directive to clear the enforcement backlog, and has added staff attorneys to weed out frivolous complaints, West told CalMatters.

But the policy stopped short of setting hard deadlines after roughly 20 investigators, attorneys and consultants argued it would worsen “out of control” caseloads.

The backlog was so severe that some enforcement staffers recommended closing all cases on alleged violations more than three years old, as long as they had not issued a “probable cause” report against them. “There are no amount of hours in the day to resolve the current number of cases open,” said a December 2022 staff letter.

But other staff warned the approach may be a quick fix, arguing previous attempts to close cases en masse due to insufficient resources “only treated the symptom — not the cause.”

Legislative efforts to set enforcement deadlines have failed. This year, a bill introduced by state Assemblymember Evan Low, a Cupertino Democrat, would have required enforcement actions against most violations within two years. Low, who is running for Congress, is still under investigation by the commission for alleged violations in 2020, when CalMatters reported that he failed to disclose donors to a nonprofit affiliated with a legislative caucus he helps lead.

Low told CalMatters the bill wouldn’t have applied to his case, but declined to comment on his own investigation. Expeditious enforcement, he said, would absolve the innocent quickly when ethics complaints are “weaponized.”

“If it’s not concluded in real time, then you have a cloud hanging over you for perpetuity,” he said.

The policy directive — and more warning letters — has worked, however. By September 2023 the division had already closed 35% of cases opened before 2023, according to a quarterly report. By January 2024, the closure rate climbed to 56%. And by the end of May, it reached 68%, with 917 unresolved cases.

Warning letters work to deter violations because, like penalties, they are a bad look “on a campaign mailer,” Silver said.

But some ethics advocates, such as McMorris, argued too many types of violations are eligible for warning letters or the streamlined process. “You now have a situation where you can take that backlog and scoop up a big load of those … complaints” and clear them, he said.

Balber cautioned against the heightened use of warning letters if the goal is solely to close cases more quickly, though a Consumer Watchdog-backed political committee — formed in 2022 to support a proposed ballot measure increasing compensation cap for medical malpractice victims — received a letter last year for failing to file disclosure reports on time.

“If you prioritize speed over quality, you get lesser results,” she said. “That to me says staff is being pressured to get done faster no matter the outcome, and that’s troubling.”

We have another pip — the second egg in Big Bear’s famous bald eagle nest is showing signs of hatching.

The first pip, or crack, was confirmed in Jackie and Shadow’s egg no. 2 on Saturday morning, according to Friends of Big Bear Valley, the nonprofit that runs a popular YouTube livestream of the nest overlooking Big Bear Lake.

That’s about a day after the first egg started showing signs of hatching on Friday morning. The egg shell has continued to crack as the chick breaks through, revealing more of the eaglet’s fuzzy gray feathers as time goes on.

More than 38,000 people were watching the livestream shortly after the organization confirmed the second crack, compared with the more than 26,000 viewers who tuned in on Friday.

“The first egg is still in the process of hatching, it is not considered hatched until it is completely free of the egg shell. The chick has popped its head out of the shell to say a happy hatch day to mom and dad!” Friends of Big Bear Valley wrote on Facebook to more than a million followers on Saturday. “It also appears that the second egg has a pip. It is not well defined as of this morning, but we will likely see more progress throughout the day.”

Jackie and Shadow's usual incubation timeline is around 38 to 40 days, according to the nonprofit.

What’s next

With pips in place, it could take the chicks a day or two to complete the hatching process, as seen with last season’s trio.

Friends of Big Bear Valley won’t know for sure if any chicks are male or female, as the organization has said the only way to tell is with a blood test.

But once eaglets are around 9 or 10 weeks old, there should be signs that can help the nonprofit make an educated guess, including the chicks’ size, ankle thickness and vocal pitch.

Generally speaking, female bald eagles are larger than males. Female bald eagles also tend to have larger vocal organs — the syrinx — which leads to deeper, lower-pitched vocalizations, according to Friends of Big Bear Valley.

What do we call the chicks?

Historically, Jackie and Shadow’s chicks are given temporary nicknames initially, such as Chick 1 and Chick 2, or Bigger Chick and Smaller Chick (which some fans affectionately nicknamed Biggie and Smalls).

The final decision has then been left up to Big Bear Valley elementary school students. Previous chicks have been named Stormy, BBB (for Big Bear Baby), Simba and Cookie through that process.

Last year, Friends of Big Bear Valley crowdsourced more than 50,000 name choices in a week-long fundraiser, with the students voting from 30 finalists on official ballots delivered by the nonprofit.

The feathered parents’ eaglets were named Sunny and Gizmo last April.

One of last season’s three chicks didn’t survive a winter storm within weeks of hatching. Friends of Big Bear Valley named that chick “Misty” in honor of one of their late volunteers who is “still very missed,” the organization previously shared.

When Kekoa Gittens was 3, his preschool teacher told his mother he was a problem. He couldn’t sit still. He didn’t participate. When other kids learned the alphabet, he didn’t pay attention.

The next year, Kekoa’s classroom problems worsened. His mother, Sonia Gittens, took him to his pediatrician, who referred the boy to an eye doctor.

That doctor looked at the back of Kekoa’s eyes and diagnosed him with myopic degeneration, a dramatic form of nearsightedness.

“They are too little. They don’t know how to express themselves and say, ‘I cannot see it, teacher,’” said Sonia Gittens, who lives in the Marin County town of Corte Madera.

Today, Kekoa is a successful high schooler, but too many kids don’t get their eyes checked until they’re far behind in school.

Vision problems, particularly nearsightedness, have grown more common among American children. Roughly one in four school-age kids, or 25%, wear glasses or contacts, a proportion that increases as kids get older, according to 2019 federal survey data.

In California too few children on Medi-Cal like Kekoa are getting their eyes checked, and the problem is growing worse. Just 16% of school-age kids on Medi-Cal saw an eye doctor between 2022 and 2024 for first-time eye exams, continuing vision check ups or glasses, according to a report commissioned by the California Optometric Association. That’s down from 19% eight years earlier. The report, based on two years of Medi-Cal data, suggests that the state is moving in the wrong direction even as eye problems become more prevalent among kids.

Medi-Cal provides insurance for low-income Californians and those with disabilities.

“Every day when I see these children it is always a surprise to me that the kids are not getting the care they need,” said Ida Chung, a pediatric optometrist and an associate dean at Western University of Health Sciences in Pomona.

The trend indicated in the report is alarming, Chung said. In her clinic, where about half of children are on Medi-Cal, it’s common for kids with congenital vision problems to visit for the first time when they’re in first grade or later. That indicates to Chung that many kids don’t have enough access to eye care.

Though kids might be getting basic vision screenings at school or from a pediatrician, some eye problems are still overlooked. “It’s something the child had before they were born,” Chung said.

Eye exams decrease statewide

Colusa County, a rural farming region north of Sacramento, saw the sharpest drop in kids’ eye doctor appointments in the state from 20% between 2015-16 to just under 2% between 2022-24.

Nearly all counties — 47 out of 58 — performed worse on vision care than they did in the past, the report shows, with some, like Colusa, declining significantly.

Most of the severe declines happened in rural areas, although urban counties like San Francisco and Los Angeles also saw decreases. Only seven counties improved the rate of children receiving eye exams or glasses. Four counties were excluded for comparison in the report because the numbers were too small.

“The decline in performance here is so widespread that something really needs to happen,” said David Maxwell-Jolly, a health care consultant who authored the report and the former director of the Department of Health Care Services, which oversees Medi-Cal. “These numbers are way lower than what you would expect to be seeing if we’re doing a good job of detecting kids with treatable conditions.”

A spokesperson for the Department of Health Care Services said in an email the state could not confirm the accuracy of an external report, noting that vision services can be difficult to track because “not all encounters are captured in a single, comprehensive dataset.”

For example, many initial vision screenings take place in the pediatrician’s office during well-child visits, which include eye and hearing screenings as well as immunizations and developmental checks. State data shows about half of kids with Medi-Cal receive well-child visits.

Still, experts say the low numbers tell a real story: if children were reliably getting follow-up care from initial screenings, the share who get comprehensive eye exams and glasses would be closer to 25-30% — in line with the known prevalence of vision problems among kids — rather than the 16% found in the optometric association’s report.

Maxwell-Jolly said the analysis he conducted replicated an internal, unpublished department report tracking vision services between 2015 and 2016. His analysis, based on data obtained through a public records act request, updated the results for more recent years.

The state’s most recent Preventive Services Report, which measures how well Medi-Cal delivers preventive care to children, shows the rate of comprehensive eye exams for children and young adults ages 6-21 is similar to the optometric association’s analysis at 17%.

Contra Costa County experienced the third largest decline in children’s eye care in the state. A spokesperson for Contra Costa Health Plan said Medi-Cal health plans are not required by the state to track vision benefits and that it would take time to understand the data. The state, however, does track vision services internally, according to the health care services department.

A bill sponsored by the optometric association and authored by Assemblymember Patrick Ahrens, a Democrat from Cupertino, aims to require the state to establish vision benefit quality measures and report performance data publicly. The goal of the legislation is to track where kids do not have enough access to vision services and to ensure that Medi-Cal providers are improving services.

Rural challenges

Amy Turnipseed, chief strategy and government affairs officer for Partnership HealthPlan of California, said rural parts of the state struggle to find enough providers. The nonprofit health insurer provides Medi-Cal for 24 northern counties, including Colusa and Modoc.

In Modoc County, which borders Oregon and Nevada, one optometrist serves a 90-mile radius. Partnership has worked closely with that optometrist to ensure they continue accepting Medi-Cal patients, Turnipseed said.

“In rural counties with lower populations, losing even one provider can exponentially impact the access to services to families,” Turnipseed said. “In the past few years we’ve seen vision providers reduce or limit their Medi-Cal, which makes it harder for families to see providers.”

An assortment of glasses at Vision to Learn mobile optometry clinic at Esther Lindstrom Elementary School in Lakewood on March 20, 2026. Photo by Ariana Drehsler for CalMatters Modoc is one of just seven counties where more children have received vision care in recent years, according to the report.

Providers frequently cite low reimbursement rates from the state as a reason for not accepting Medi-Cal patients. The California Optometric Association estimates only about 10% of its members accept Medi-Cal. The reimbursement rate for a comprehensive eye exam is about $47, said Kristine Shultz, association executive director.

“Our reimbursement rates haven’t increased in 25 years. Imagine getting paid what you were paid 25 years ago,” Shultz said.

Schools check kids’ vision, but follow-up is spotty

State law requires schools to periodically check kids’ vision starting in kindergarten. Those screenings are a good bellwether for if a child is struggling to see in class, said Chung with Western University. The problem is getting the kids who fail the screening to an eye doctor.

Chung runs an academic optometry clinic that works with local schools in Pomona. Each year up to 35% of students fail the screening, meaning they likely have a vision problem. But based on conversations with school nurses, Chung said only about 7% of those children then go to an eye doctor and come back to school with glasses.

Chung, who chairs the children’s vision committee for the California Optometric Association, said colleagues who work with school districts around the state report similar experiences.

“If a high number of those children are not getting the follow up care, we may just be fooling ourselves and checking a box,” Chung said. “We’re in compliance with the law in California but are we really helping the children?”

For some families, the answer is no. That’s what happened to Kekoa when he was 3. The school checked his eyes and said he might have vision problems, but his mother, Gittens, waited. Her son was still learning his numbers and letters. How would he be able to read an eye chart, she reasoned. It wasn’t until his problems got worse that Gittens took Kekoa to an eye doctor.

Now, at 15, Kekoa wears contacts and likes athletics. He needs to see to compete in capoeira martial arts competitions and surf on the weekends, his mother said.

First: Dr. Kiyana Kavoussi shows letters on a monitor during Noah Mattison’s, 11, visual acuity test. Last: Optician Maya Ortega looks at Italia Martin’s, 6, eyes before she chooses new glasses inside the Vision to Learn mobile optometry clinic at Esther Lindstrom Elementary School in Lakewood on March 20, 2026. Photos by Ariana Drehsler for CalMatters Many parents lack the resources to take their kids to the doctor, or simply wait. Notes from school nurses flagging that a child failed a vision screening may also get lost in a backpack on the way home, educators say. The California Department of Education does not track the results of school vision screenings.

Vision To Learn, a nonprofit, created a mobile eye clinic to help bridge the gap between kids failing school vision screenings and getting glasses. The group brings an optometrist to campus, meaning kids that need an eye exam can get one the same day and go home having gotten a prescription and ordered glasses.

Damian Carroll, chief of staff and national director, said Vision to Learn’s numbers tell a similar story to Chung’s. About one-third of students screened are unable to read the eye chart, but very few of those kids have adequate glasses.

In the California schools where the program operates, around 70% of kids who have been prescribed glasses did not own a pair. Another 20% had glasses with outdated prescriptions, according to internal data, Carroll said.

And that gap can drastically affect learning outcomes or behavior in school.

“First and second graders who try on glasses the first time are blown away because they just thought that’s how the world looked,” Carroll said. “They can see the leaves on the trees and the math on the board, and it’s shocking to them.”

For the record: This story has been updated to reflect that Maxwell-Jolly’s study replicated the methodology of an earlier one by the Department of Health Care Services, but did not republish department findings.

Supported by the California Health Care Foundation (CHCF), which works to ensure that people have access to the care they need, when they need it, at a price they can afford. Visit www.chcf.org to learn more.

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

For more than 15 years, botanist Naomi Fraga of the California Botanic Garden has been trying to collect seeds from the rare Death Valley sage, for safekeeping in a vault of native California seeds. Each time, she's come home empty handed. But this year, with the desert in the midst of a big bloom, she's trying again.

"It's a little bit of a gamble," she says. "But, you know, the plant's having a really good year. I feel hopeful."

The plant has silvery-green pointy leaves, fuzzy buds and striking deep purple flowers. But it is challenging to study and to sample. Fraga says she often has to hike or scramble up mountainsides, or drive on backroads to find it. Very little is known about the plant's pollinator. And in exceptionally dry years, the Death Valley sage doesn't flower at all – meaning no seeds either.

The sage's habitat is mostly protected, within the boundaries of Death Valley National Park. But climate change doesn't respect park boundaries – and could push these plants that are already living on the brink into even more existential peril.

Naomi Fraga says for the first time since 2009, she found the Death Valley sage seeds. Soon, she says, she'll return with a team to make the first big harvest.

(

Krystal Ramirez

/

NPR

)

"You can imagine that if conditions were to get more difficult with a changing climate, it's going to be harder and harder to collect seed," Fraga says.

In late March, Fraga headed into the foothills of the Nopah Range, near an abandoned mine, to check on one of the largest populations she knows of. And for the first time since 2009, she found the seeds. Soon, she says, she'll return with a team to attempt the first big harvest of Death Valley sage seeds.

A bee pollinates a Death Valley Sage in the Nopah Range near Death Valley.

(

Krystal Ramirez

/

NPR

)

The first day of fall semester for a university freshman is often stressful. Not for Vanessa Menera, an 18-year-old who’s the first in her family to attend college.

Last year, she arrived 15 minutes early to her first fall class with an internship and campus job already in tow, plus a mental map of Cal State University Dominguez Hills, a sprawling, nearly 350-acre institution in the Los Angeles area’s South Bay.

The already confident student possessed even more motivation to make the most of her time on campus because of a program she took last summer: The First-Year Experience Summer Program.

“Everything was so easy to me, and I'm really grateful, because I know it was because of that First Year Experience that I was able to do that,” said Menera.

The summer program is one of several strategies Cal State Dominguez Hills seeks to expand as it combats a half-decade enrollment slide that’s unraveling its finances. But it’s not the only approach to fiscal right-sizing. Nor is Cal State Dominguez Hills alone in combatting large drops in its student population.

That’s because the money that the country’s largest public four-year university system needs to properly educate its students isn’t there. Now, California State University is embarking on a detailed, sweeping plan to enroll more students as part of an all-out push to bring much-needed cash to the workhorse system of 22 campuses that educates 471,000 students.

Ten campuses, including Dominguez Hills, saw double-digit enrollment declines in fall of 2025 compared to fall 2020, when the first full academic year of the COVID-19 pandemic began.

The loss of enrollment is a major driver of the financial struggles many of the system’s campuses face. The Cal State’s chancellor’s office says the system is facing a $2.3 billion budget gap in the current academic year. There’s a bright spot, though: Cal State officials say the system overall is on pace this year to beat state enrollment targets for the first time in four years.

People walk past the exterior of the Innovation & Instruction building at Cal State Dominguez Hills in Carson on Feb. 19, 2026. Photo by Zin Chiang for CalMatters Still, a key state lawmaker admonished the system’s under-enrolled campuses for missing its enrollment targets.

“I'm concerned that these campuses may be overfunded,” said Assemblymember David Alvarez, a Democrat from Chula Vista, at a December legislative hearing about Cal State’s finances. He is chairperson of the Assembly’s budget subcommittee on education and a key player in deciding how much state money universities receive. His worry? Other campuses with rising enrollments need the money to educate their ever-growing student body by hiring more professors, tutors and other staff to support students.

The state funds campuses based on how many Californians they enroll; by educating fewer students than what the state pays per student, the campuses are technically collecting more revenue than their enrollment levels would permit. That’s because the state pays schools for the number of California students they’re supposed to enroll, not how many they actually enroll.

By that measure, San Francisco State last year collected close to $50 million more in state dollars than its enrollment levels indicate it should receive — the campus enrolled about 5,300 fewer Californians than state goals stipulated in 2024. Cal State Dominguez Hills was taking about $7 million more. Conversely, Cal Poly Pomona was down about $20 million, because they enrolled 2,500 more students than the state’s target.

California is also eyeing multi-billion-dollar budget deficits, putting even more pressure on lawmakers and school systems to use money wisely.

The Legislature last year required Cal State to submit a report by March 1 detailing how campuses with enrollment struggles plan to attract new students and meet their state targets. Campuses sent their turnaround plans to the system’s chancellor’s office by December.

CalMatters conducted a dozen interviews and issued six records requests for this story.

Spotlight on Cal State Dominguez

Cal State Dominguez Hills’ enrollment is down 20% compared to 2020 and its finances have suffered. As a result, campus officials laid off 38 non-faculty staff and managers in 2025.

The school projects it will lose an additional $8 million this year, cutting deeper into its reserves, which have dwindled from $46 million in 2022 to a projected $10 million this summer.

The campus’ graduation rates fall below the systemwide average. And the campus historically has posted lower retention rates, meaning more students quit after one or two years compared to other campuses in the system. Dominguez Hill’s retention rate has grown in the last year, however.

The school enrolls the highest share of undergraduate students in the system who receive the federal Pell grant for low-income students — 69% compared to a Cal State average of 51%. Systemwide, those Pell students graduate at lower levels than students who don’t receive the grant.

Dominguez Hills’ turnaround plan includes a campus goal of enrolling about 800 more students to hit its enrollment target by 2027-28. More students plus planned systemwide tuition hikes and a new student-approved campus fee are projected to generate $25 million in additional money.

To reach its enrollment goals, the campus will lean on approaches that have demonstrated success, including the First Year Experience summer program, which Dominguez Hills started in 2022. Through the program, about a quarter of the freshman class enrolls in up to two free college courses during the summer before fall term. These are all general education courses required for graduation, with an emphasis on teaching students how to study well. The program also engenders a sense of community among students and campus staff.

Other strategies include attracting new students and keeping more of its current students. Another is to re-enroll students who’ve previously dropped out. It’s an approach that’s top of mind for campuses across the state: California is home to about 3.5 million adults with some college credit but no degree. Even a miniscule bump in the students who return to school could eradicate a campus’ enrollment woes.
Another budget-stabilizing effort may mean additional job losses. Campus professors are now meeting regularly to find ways to combine courses and run fewer sections of the same course. This helps the school average more students per course, but it’ll likely mean fewer lecturers — instructors who lack the full-time benefits and job safety of tenured professors.

Systemwide, 63 degree programs were discontinued by the Board of Trustees in 2024.

A student walks up the stairs in the Innovation and Instruction building at Cal State Dominguez Hills in Carson on Feb. 19, 2026. Photo by Zin Chiang for CalMatters Dominguez Hills in February reversed course on terminating six majors, including art history and philosophy. Student advocacy spurred the restoration. The school also determined that cutting individual programs made less sense than reviewing all majors to find other ways to integrate academic programs, said Kim Costino, the school’s interim provost, in an interview.

“Everyone is hopeful that we are going to be able to create a more economically efficient curriculum that serves students better,” said Terry McGlynn during an interview. He is a biology professor at Dominguez Hills who is chair of the academic senate, a faculty group that shapes campus academics.

But “there's clearly going to be some pain involved,” he added.

Summer session to keep students longer

The school cited in its report to the system that expanding the The First Year Experience program is one way to increase enrollment.

The campus spends $635,000 annually to run it. Almost 84% of students in the program advanced to their second year of college in fall 2024 — well above the 66% for students who didn’t sign up for the First Year Experience, according to data the campus shared. For a school desperate to undo its enrollment slide, keeping the students it has — and their tuition dollars — is a key strategy.

Any incoming freshman can enroll in the First Year Experience.

One reason Menera knew the campus so well when fall classes began? An extra-credit assignment for her environmental studies course over the summer required her to identify every vending machine on campus.

Student Vanessa Menera, 18, in the Innovation and Instruction Building at Cal State Dominguez Hills in Carson on Feb. 19, 2026. Photo by Zin Chiang for CalMatters The First Year Experience also features activities that reinforce what students learn, such as a field trip to a museum for an English course led by a guest author whose book the professor assigned to students. For her environmental studies class, Menera said that she carried a trash bag for more than a week to visualize how much waste people accumulate.

The school also awards a $150 scholarship to students who complete a summer-experience course. But for students who work over the summer or help care for family members, that amount alone may not be enough to persuade them to attend the program, said Costino. She ran the summer program until December.

The summer courses are long. Most meet twice weekly for four hours, so a student in two courses is in class for about 16 hours a week. Menera worked anyway that summer, maintaining the job she had during high school at TJ Maxx in Anaheim, some 20 miles from campus. She continues to work now, logging 17 hours a week at a campus convenience store on top of a full academic load. The summer program mentally prepared her for long school and work days, she said.

Costino thinks the program’s growth won’t be in students enrolling the summer before freshman year, but instead in students who earned a D or F in a course their first year and need to make up the class the following summer. While students can presently retake classes, they have to pay for them. Providing free make-up courses that either replace or average out a previous low grade helps the school retain more students who are on academic probation or just lost academic confidence after a bad first year, Costino said.

Re-enrolling students who dropped out

Cal State Dominguez Hills is seeking to expand its efforts to re-enroll students who’ve dropped out. Since 2021 the school has re-enrolled nearly 1,100 such students for fall term through its “Once a Toro, Always a Toro” program, named after the campus mascot.

While these students represent a tiny portion of the campus’ annual enrollment, they lead to instant revenue for the school from tuition and fees. It’s a few extra million dollars for the school, and it costs about $300,000 to $600,000 annually to maintain the re-enrollment program.

Once these students return to Dominguez Hills, most graduate. Data the campus shared with CalMatters show that earlier cohorts of the re-enrolled students have graduation rates of around 50% three years after they return. The numbers grow to about 70% after six years.

The school is now targeting any student who dropped out in the last 15 years or so, said Sabrina Sanders, the program director of Once a Toro.

She maintains a list of 10,000 formerly enrolled students. Annually, about 1,000 apply, around three-quarters are admitted, and roughly 300 to 400 enroll. Some who were admitted don’t enroll for several reasons, including prior low GPAs that make them ineligible for financial aid.

One of the students who returned is Wynette Davis. The 27-year-old is four classes away from finishing her bachelor’s degree in psychology after dropping out two years ago.

Davis transferred to the university from community college in 2022. She was on track to earn her bachelor’s in 2024 and even walked the stage during the spring graduation ceremony, needing just a few more classes that summer to finish her degree. But tragedy struck: Her daughter’s father died in spring 2024, and the shock derailed her academics. That spring and summer, she failed four classes. Davis left as a result.

She tried to re-enroll a year later, but learned she owed the university tuition money and couldn’t qualify for financial aid because her failing grades dropped her below the campus’ threshold for aid eligibility. Davis was ready to give up on earning a bachelor’s until an email from Once a Toro entered her inbox.

A staffer with the program helped Davis receive a waiver for her past-due account balance as long as she promised to pass her classes for the year, Davis said. The staffer also worked with the school financial aid office to reinstate her eligibility for financial aid for her spring classes after her grades improved.

Last fall Davis retook the classes she previously failed, passing them all this time. She’s in two classes this spring and will need two more next fall to earn her bachelor’s degree.

“If it wasn't for the Once a Toro, Always a Toro program, I probably would not have been back in school right now,” Davis said.

Another setback is the changing nature of academic requirements. Students who were gone for a decade may have pursued majors that don’t exist or were heavily altered, so the courses they took toward their majors might not satisfy new requirements. Sanders and the school’s advising teams collaborate with academic department deans to convert the re-enrolling students’ old coursework into the updated expectations for existing majors. Or re-enrolled students pursue an interdisciplinary major that combines old coursework with new.

“There's a sense of shame that comes with dropping out of college and having someone there to kind of put those thoughts and put that inner dialogue to rest” was key, said Stephanie Esquivel, a returning student who re-enrolled in 2022 after leaving the campus her freshman year in 2007.

She credited Sanders with helping her transfer her community college units to her university major. To Esquivel, a team like Once a Toro shows that the campus desires returning students and invests in the social infrastructure to help them, she said.

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