The Brief

This story is a collaboration between LAist and The LA Local. Agya K. Aning and Alain Stephens are freelance reporters.

On a clear winter night in 2019, Gerardo Gaona drove a white Ford Expedition to a homeless encampment in Pico-Union, stepped out, entered a tent and fired six rounds from his 9mm handgun.

Hector Valey, 24, was hit twice. Court records say he managed to make it out of the tent, dying nearby soon after midnight Feb. 23. Jorge Perez was struck in his right shoulder — his life likely spared only because the Smith & Wesson aimed at him ran out of bullets. Gaona got back into the SUV and sped off.

Two weeks earlier, on Feb. 9, police had responded to a shooting at the same encampment that left one person wounded. The same Expedition was spotted at the scene, and bullet casings were eventually linked back to Gaona’s pistol.

Gaona, now 30, was convicted of first-degree murder and premeditated attempted murder in 2022. He was sentenced to a minimum of 82 years in prison. The court described him as “a borderline serial killer who hunted homeless people in his neighborhood.”

He's not the first person in Los Angeles to target the city's most vulnerable. Unhoused people living here have been strangled, stabbed, set on fire and bludgeoned with baseball bats — often in plain view.

An investigation by LAist and The LA Local found that at least 278 of the city’s unhoused residents have been shot and killed since 2015, according to an analysis of data from the Los Angeles Police Department. Once rare, gunfire is now the primary means by which killers take the lives of unhoused people in the city.

However, our analysis of records from the L.A. County Medical Examiner shows that’s an undercount. We found an additional two dozen fatal shootings from 2024 and 2025 that do not appear to be included in LAPD data. Medical examiner records are not exhaustive either — the office estimates that about 20% of deaths among the county’s unhoused population aren’t reported to their department.

In 2014, the earliest year analyzed in this investigation, there were no killings of this kind. In 2022, there were 60. This surge reflected a national peak in gun violence during the COVID-19 pandemic, which experts have attributed to fewer social supports, rising gun sales, and an increase in joblessness, mental illness, and substance abuse. Following a decline, LAPD data show that fatal shootings of unhoused people stayed nearly the same between 2024 and 2025, even as overall homicides in the city last year fell by 19%.

The oldest shooting victim found in the medical examiner’s records was a 69-year-old man who, in 2024, was shot six times in an alley near the intersection of Interstates 105 and 110. The youngest was shot seven times, mostly in the back, during a drive-by in Florence-Graham that same year. He was 15 years old. Neither victim appears in LAPD data.

The LAPD didn’t return a request for comment about the gaps in its shooting data.

“This data underscores why Mayor Bass is so zealous about bringing people inside from the street and encampments,” reads a statement from Mayor Karen Bass’ Office. “When people are left on the street — which was the de facto City policy before Mayor Bass was elected — they are exponentially more likely to encounter violence.”

Drug overdoses, coronary heart disease, and traffic accidents remain overwhelmingly the most common causes of death among L.A.’s unhoused population. But fatal shootings have become a persistent danger facing the “unsheltered” portion of this population — the nearly 27,000 men, women and children who sleep on sidewalks, in tents or cars, under bridges, and other places not meant for permanent human habitation. It’s the biggest population of its kind found anywhere in America.

Unhoused people are both the perpetrators and victims of homicide. But LAPD homicide data shows they are far more likely to be the victims of violence: From 2015 through 2025, unsheltered people accounted for 16% of all murder victims in the city, despite making up less than 1% of Angelenos.

“Homeless people face, arguably, the highest victimization levels of virtually anyone in society,” said Brian Levin, founder of the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism at California State University, San Bernardino.

Among homicides in 2025 with unhoused shooting victims, the LAPD made arrests in all 16 cases, according to our analysis of department data. This is a dramatic change from 2023 — before the department changed its data collection methods — when the LAPD cleared just 48% of such cases by arrest for unhoused victims, and 74% for housed victims.

The LAPD did not return a request for comment about this significant change in arrest rate.

Court records and people who spoke with LAist and The LA Local attributed these shootings to gangs and the dangers of the underground drug economy. Other sources and legal proceedings point to a rise of “predators,” “outsiders,” or “vigilantes” — people who kill because they view unhoused people as easy targets and less than human.

There are “people who actually go out and target the homeless as some kind of badge of honor,” Levin said.

“As the numbers of people who are homeless rise, the number of vigilante activities have risen with it,” said Andy Bales, who ran the Union Rescue Mission shelter on Skid Row for nearly 20 years.

Throughout most of the country, a person’s housing status isn’t collected upon their death, which means that national data on the shootings of unhoused people is currently unavailable. However, advocates say this kind of violence is on the rise around the U.S. And with a growing share of Americans losing shelter, more people are at risk.

Predators and self-styled vigilantes

For decades, individual news stories have revealed the violence facing unhoused Angelenos. A UPI story from 1986 begins:

LOS ANGELES – Thousands of homeless street people are being urged to spend their nights in Skid Row missions or 'huddle together for safety' against a killer who has shot four men as they slept in lots and alleys.

The shooter, dubbed The Skid Row Slayer, would kill a total of 10 unhoused men before dying by suicide nine days after the story was published.

Years later, two elderly women took out life insurance policies worth millions of dollars on two unhoused men — before killing them in staged hit-and-runs in 1999 and 2005.

“They went out of their way to target men who had nothing,” said Bobby Grace, a deputy district attorney who prosecuted their case.

The perpetrators of the so-called Black Widow Murders were sentenced to life without parole.

Gaona went on his shooting spree in 2019, according to court documents, “without any apparent provocation or reason other than ridding his community of its most vulnerable members.”

More recently, the LAPD arrested two people in May 2022 for allegedly shooting and killing a 69-year-old unhoused double amputee while he slept in his wheelchair outside of a McDonald’s in Gramercy Park. A jury found one of them not guilty at trial in 2023. The second person, Rubi Anguiano-Salazar, shot a 67-year-old unhoused woman, who survived, at a bus stop in the same neighborhood four days later. In 2025, Salazar was sentenced to 42 years to life in prison for one count of first-degree murder with a gun and one count of willful, deliberate, and premeditated attempted murder.

Over a span of 72 hours in November 2023, Jerrid Joseph Powell allegedly prowled the nighttime streets of Los Angeles, sneaking up on unhoused men and shooting them. One man was asleep on a couch. Another was pushing a shopping cart. The third was resting on the sidewalk. They all died. During that period, Powell allegedly killed another man in L.A. County who was not unhoused. Beverly Hills police arrested Powell a few days later in connection with that shooting after his car was identified from surveillance footage.

Powell has pleaded not guilty to four counts of murder. Criminal proceedings have been suspended while his case works its way through hearings to establish if he is mentally competent to stand trial, according to the district attorney’s office.

Last August, authorities say Vincent Wolf approached an RV parked outside his apartment building in Sylmar and shot and killed Travis Harker, 29. Wolf has pleaded not guilty to murder and is awaiting trial. Police said Wolf, 23, had vented frustration on social media earlier that month about homelessness and “corrupt politicians” failing to address the issue.

Benyamin Sadeh, an LAPD detective who investigated Harker’s killing, said he worked on a different fatal shooting in 2023 that seemed motivated by a similar sort of resentment.

“The victim wasn’t homeless, but he appeared to be,” Sadeh told LAist and The LA Local.

Sadeh said he’s not surprised LAPD data shows shootings of unhoused victims have remained consistent as homicides in the general population decrease.

“It’s a big problem for us,” Sadeh said. “A lot of people focus on the impact [of gun violence] to our communities, but it's also affecting people that are experiencing homelessness.”

Gisselle Espinoza is an LAPD commander and the department’s homeless coordinator. She disagrees.

“I don't have anything to suggest that there's a trend or a pattern with people pulling weapons on [unhoused people],” she said.

Numerous people living outdoors who spoke with LAist and The LA Local described having guns pulled on them as a regular occurrence.

Los Angeles County District Attorney Nathan Hochman’s office doesn’t track the housing status of victims or people accused of crimes, an office spokesperson said in an email. “Our more than 800 prosecutors remain deeply committed to seeking justice and supporting every victim impacted by crime,” the statement added.

Most suspected shooters are housed

Jeff Wenninger spent 33 years in law enforcement, much of it with the LAPD, and he sees things differently from Espinoza. His résumé includes a stint in the department’s Rampart Division, which encompasses MacArthur Park, a hub of homelessness in L.A. He estimates that half of the attacks on unhoused people he saw there were of the predatory sort — but that applies only to instances where the assailant was caught, allowing their identity to be known.

“For lack of a better term, I’ll just call them ‘outsiders’ that are victimizing the homeless and seeing them as less human,” said Wenninger, who now provides expert witness testimonies and security consulting.

His estimate tracks with LAPD data, which includes the housing status of suspected criminals. An analysis of department records by LAist and The LA Local shows that in the killings of unhoused people, 83% of suspected shooters from 2015 through 2025 were housed.

“That's pretty concerning. I think law enforcement would want to say otherwise, that it's homeless on homeless,” Wenninger said.

Between 2015 and 2025, the number of unsheltered people in Los Angeles increased from roughly 18,000 to nearly 27,000, a rise of about 52%. The city is the epicenter of America’s homelessness crisis: It encompasses roughly 10% of the nation’s entire unsheltered homeless population, even though only about 1% of people in the country live here.

Local, county, state and federal levels have poured billions of dollars into addressing homelessness in the L.A. area, but progress has been minimal. Homeless advocates acknowledge that the persistence of this crisis has led to compassion fatigue, resignation, resentment, and dehumanization among some Angelenos. This loss of patience has at times expressed itself as protests, angry local council meetings and anti-homeless Facebook groups.

Jeremy Rosenprinz is a member of the volunteer-led homeless outreach group Ktown For All, and he’s familiar with such negative sentiments. “The problem is that when you live your life in public, there is nowhere for you to go. And so we're seeing people at their absolute worst,” he said.

Jeremy Rosenprinz, a member of Ktown For All, stands outside of Immanuel Presbyterian Church in Koreatown on Jan. 10. The all-volunteer group meets most Saturdays to deliver supplies to unhoused people in the neighborhood

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Academic research shows that some people believe their unhoused neighbors deserve to suffer, and a 2024 study in Los Angeles County provides a glimpse into their struggles: 32% of homeless respondents said they experienced discrimination daily in the past month, while 16% said they had experienced violence. To be clear, these kinds of indignities can come from other unhoused people. They also come from housed individuals who’ve slashed tents and thrown their possessions into dumpsters.

“Being unhoused — it's like exile, basically,” Rosenprinz said. “When people are marginalized and demonized in the media and by our government, then it sets off a certain type of person who thinks that, 'Oh, like, maybe I'm even doing a community service to do violence against these people,'” he said.

“I think there's entire portions of the population who do not see the unhoused or people living in poverty as human beings,” said Soma Snakeoil, the co-founder and executive director of The Sidewalk Project, a street-based harm reduction organization.

Snakeoil co-founded the group in 2017. It’s led by and lends aid to unhoused, drug-using, sexual assault survivor, and sex worker populations. The Sidewalk Project operates a drop-in center on the southern edge of Skid Row, where there’s always someone standing watch behind a heavy rolling gate. With its cozy couches and multi-colored murals, the interior resembles an easygoing hostel. It serves as a haven for cisgender and trans women, offering them meals, hygiene kits, self-defense classes and a place to simply rest.

The Sidewalk Project helped Reilly, who was previously unhoused and preferred not to give her first name, get housing in 2021. They brought her on as an employee the year before that, and as the group’s community ambassador her roles include harm-reduction outreach, wound care, and violence interruption.

Reilly said she left an abusive household in the 1980s and made her way as a sex worker, living out of various hotels. She’s been attacked numerous times, she said, including a drive-by pellet gun shooting to her ankle that required 106 stitches. From the 15 intermittent years Reilly spent unhoused, she said she’s known several dozen unhoused people who’ve been shot and killed.

“If they have this need or desire to kill people, then this is the place to come,” Reilly said. “Because we're expendable.”

Reilly, who was formerly unhoused, stands before a mural at The Sidewalk Project, a drop-in shelter for unhoused cisgender and trans women in Skid Row on Jan. 9. The organization brought her on as its community ambassador and helped her get housing.

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Gang threats in encampments

The Union Rescue Mission is a shelter that operates a faith-based recovery program in Skid Row. Men and women receive aid there in various forms, including detox, therapy, parenting classes, vocational training, and help finding housing.

Andy Bales watched the population of Skid Row rise dramatically during his 20-year tenure, which ended in 2023. Over the years, he said he witnessed countless acts of violence, including being within earshot of a fatal shooting. He said he also saw gangs set people’s tents on fire for crossing them or failing to pay debts.

“Skid Row is the worst man-made disaster in the US,” Bales said.

A great deal of being unhoused revolves around simply staying safe, so those living outside often band together to look after one another. However, homeless encampments can be ripe for violence and exploitation, including being used as cover for drug-dealing operations.

Detective Sadeh said “a lot” of the violence he’s seen was related to the drug trade, including gangs who wanted unhoused drug users to buy from them exclusively.

Eunisses Hernandez, a City Council member representing parts of Los Angeles with large unhoused populations, said she’s aware of violence in and around encampments.

“I have certain encampments where there's regular [gang] shootings,” Hernandez said.

Identifying the exact degree of gang involvement in these crimes is difficult. In 2020, the LAPD withdrew from CalGang, a statewide database used to track gang affiliations, after an internal audit found that officers were falsifying records. Other law enforcement agencies in the state are still prohibited from using records generated by the LAPD, which made up about a quarter of the data.

Court records show that assumed rival gang affiliations can be a significant factor in violence against unhoused people.

On a late night in early 2018, two members of the Avenues gang were out looking for rivals and eventually made their way to a homeless encampment in Montecito Heights. They entered a tent where they found Daniel Duarte and Douglas Garido. The intruders asked the two men where they were from, meaning, What gang do you belong to? Duarte said he was from Pasadena, and Garido said he had no affiliations. Suddenly, one of the men shot Duarte, 31, in the back of the head. He died at the scene, while Garido, 34, was shot twice and survived. According to court records, neither of them belonged to any gang.

A year later, Bradley Hanaway was sleeping under bleachers in North Hollywood when three members of MS-13 approached him, asking to see his tattoos. Mistaking one for the symbol of a rival clique, court records state, one member shot Hanaway almost instantly, killing him. He was 34 years old.

Guns on the street

California’s gun laws, long considered the country’s strongest, require proof of residency to legally own a firearm — a difficult task for anyone living on the streets of L.A. Further, federal law prohibits gun possession for anyone convicted of a felony or involuntarily committed to an institution for a mental disorder or severe substance use. During the city’s 2025 point-in-time count — an annual tally of unsheltered people — 26% reported having a serious mental disorder, while 30% said they had a substance abuse disorder.

Still, there are plenty of ways to obtain a firearm illegally, such as stealing, bringing them in from states with less restrictive gun laws, and straw purchasing, which involves buying a gun on someone else’s behalf.

“Everybody has a gun, mostly people who are not supposed to have guns,” Detective Sadeh said. “They’re out there, they are easily obtained, and they change hands very quickly.”

From 2015 through 2025, the LAPD seized more than 80,000 illegal firearms, according to its annual crime report. Last year, it recovered 8,650, over a thousand more than in 2024. The department has reportedly recovered guns from encampments, among other locations.

Sadeh said that ghost guns — untraceable firearms manufactured at home, assembled from kits or some combination of both — are also prevalent in the city. Last year, the LAPD recovered 876 of them, down from a peak of 1,921 in 2021.

LAist and The LA Local spoke to an unhoused woman living in Koreatown, who said that gun ownership among people on the streets was common in her neighborhood.

“On this street alone, on the average, there's four or five guns, right here from that block to that block,” said the 57-year-old woman, who said she was an Army veteran and former police officer. She said there were gunshots almost every night, mostly coming from gang activity.

“Between Alvarado [Street] and Vermont [Avenue], what, there’s four active gangs right here? Well, five if you include LAPD,” she said.

The veteran, who wasn’t comfortable giving her name, already knows her way around firearms.

“Even though we're not supposed to [have guns],” she said, “I'm considering one, ya know?”

Zackery "Turdle" Melton was shot and killed in Venice in April 2025.

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Solving the murders

On April 2, 2025, Zackery Melton, 28, was shot and killed in Venice while defending a friend from her abuser in Westminster Dog Park. Melton, known to most as “Turdle,” was unhoused and beloved by the wider Venice community.

Melton’s heroism apparently made quite the impression: His father, Mark Melton, said detectives told him they were going to solve his son’s case because he was “one of us.”

Detectives spent more than five weeks tracking down Melton’s killer. LAPD arrested Tyrone Jones, 46, on May 9, 2025. Just over a year later, at the end of a 16-day jury trial, Jones was convicted of first-degree murder and seven other charges. His probation and sentencing hearing is June 18.

Given that about half of the fatal shootings in our data went unsolved, the response to Melton’s death appears to be an exceptional one.

Coming soon: Melton’s story in Part 2

Unhoused Angelenos say getting justice in general, much less for serious crimes, is difficult. Their personal anecdotes about interacting with the LAPD often include being ignored, not believed, disrespected or treated like a criminal.

Current LAPD detectives and Wenninger, the former lieutenant, said that unhoused people’s reluctance to come forward can make it difficult to solve their murders. They also pointed to staying in touch with unhoused people throughout the legal process, which can take months or years, as another complication. These factors may partially explain why the department’s clearance rate of fatal shootings of unhoused people can be substantially lower than that of housed victims — but only partially.

Wenninger said that officers would sometimes treat unhoused people as a nuisance, wishing not to interact with them because of their lack of cleanliness. Some also didn’t see the point in helping unhoused people.

“The department answer is that ‘every life matters,’” he said. “But in reality there's a finite amount of resources, and determinations have to be made on where those resources are going to be spent.”

When investigating homicides with unhoused victims, Wenninger said officers would sometimes say “no human involved.” The infamous phrase came to light during the Rodney King saga of the early ‘90s, when transcripts of chatter between LAPD officers revealed that they used the shorthand “N.H.I.” to refer to crimes with both Black victims and perpetrators. It’s been used for crimes involving sex workers as well.

Espinoza, the LAPD homeless coordinator, said she had never heard of that phrase. “And if somebody ever did say that, then they would be held accountable.”

She said the department takes all crime victims seriously.

“We provide the best service, whether the person lives in an affluent area, or whether it's someone that lives in Skid Row,” Espinoza said.

Wenninger also remembers LAPD officers questioning why they should care about delivering justice for unhoused victims if their families don’t care.

Karen Webb, Melton’s mother, has heard such comments many times. “And every time, it stabbed me in the heart,” she said. “Like, he was 28. What was I supposed to do?”

After his death, she reached out to the press and took to social media, commenting under numerous and sparse local news stories about her boy.

“I had to change that narrative,” Webb said, “because though he was homeless, he was so much more than just that.”

Additional reporting by Jordan Rynning

It seems to have become part of the World Cup viewing experience: you're watching the game. Your team makes a goal. You celebrate, tentatively: because before you know it, VAR, the video assistant referee, is checking, and there's a chance the goal is getting annulled.

The ubiquitous use of VAR has been one of the great controversies at this year's World Cup. FIFA argues it's making the game fairer; many fans and teams say it's getting out of hand.
The VAR was not always the villain of soccer.
In fact, there was a time when fans and players clamored for it. It all goes back to the 2009 World Cup qualifiers, to a match between France and Ireland. Thierry Henry, a forward for France, assisted on a goal. To many, on the field and watching on TV at home, it was obvious that Henry had touched the ball with his hand. But the referee never called a foul.

This was hardly the first time that it happened: fútbol lovers will point to the infamous Argentina-England game in the 1986 World Cup, featuring a hand goal by Argentine soccer legend Diego Maradona (commonly referred to as "The Hand of God"). The difference was that by 2009, the technology was available to review the play right then and there, and make a better decision.
FIFA, soccer's ruling body, is incredibly reluctant to change its rules. Up until 1970, teams weren't allowed to make substitutions. That was the same year in which red and yellow cards were introduced (previously, a referee would simply issue a warning or send a player off for bad behavior).

FIFA referee Clement Turpin watches a VAR replay screen to check for a possible penalty during the World Cup quarterfinal soccer match between Norway and England in Miami Gardens, Fla., Saturday, July 11.

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When FIFA does intend to make a change, it often first tests it out in the U.S.
"A lot of innovations in soccer, just even putting names on the back of jerseys started in the United States," says Professor Chris Davis at Adelphi University. Davis, who studies soccer history, says American fans are typically not so caught up in soccer traditionalism and are more rapid adopters of technological change. This is how VAR came to be tested in 2014 and 2015 during Major League Soccer games.
It was officially introduced at the 2018 World Cup. Here's how it works: there's a referee crew on the field, and a separate crew watching the game on video with replays showing many angles. For the most part, Davis says, fans liked it when it was introduced. "Clear instances were being corrected, and I think that was the beauty of it: we had clear instances of protecting the integrity of the game."
Davis notes that although audiences appreciated the new technology, it wasn't used very often. Fast forward to 2026, and referees checking VAR has become ubiquitous — from reviewing potential missed fouls in the penalty area to offside.

The offside rule is over 150 years old, has 45 clauses and is around a thousand words long. It's one of soccer's most complex and misunderstood laws. It's hard to explain succinctly, but here is a shot: the law states that a player is offside when in the opponent's half of the field, and closer to the opponent's goal line than both the ball and the second-last opponent. It matters where the player is when the ball is struck, and whether they're involved in active play. It's designed to prevent lingering around the opponent's goal to make an easy score.

In this World Cup, referees have often stopped the match on multiple occasions to check VAR for offside, sometimes issuing rulings that fans and teams consider ludicrous.

Ehsan Hajisafi #3 of Iran protests to referee Dario Herrera after a VAR review disallowed an Iranian goal during a World Cup match against Belgium on June 21 in Inglewood, Calif.

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Consider the Iran match against Belgium, in which an Iranian goal was taken away because VAR determined an Iranian player's butt was offside. A few days later, a Colombian goal was annulled when an attacker's toe was offside.
"It is completely interrupting what the game state is", says Felipe Cardenas, senior writer with The Athletic. "One of the best and most special moments in a football match is a goal and the goal celebration. Now there are times when the players have to wait until the referee gets the right decision and he hears from the VAR."
VAR is at the center of one of the most controversial games in this Cup: Egypt vs. Argentina.
A recap: for most of the game, Egypt dominated. They scored a second goal in the 67th minute. The VAR pointed to a questionable foul that had happened in the lead-up to that goal, all the way across the field. The referee reviewed the video, and disqualified Egypt's goal. Argentina went on to win. Later, Egypt complained and said they were robbed during the World Cup. The whole incident led to further questioning of so much technology in the tournament, and whether it's being deployed properly.
At the end of the day, the debate over the use of VAR and technology in soccer echoes many conversations happening in society today: where is the line between tech helping and going too far? If the technology is being handled by humans, is there not an inherent bias?
Cardenas says he thinks the answer lies somewhere in the middle. "As fútbol fans, you should live with human error at times. It's OK for a referee to make a mistake. We're getting to the point where it is taboo if a referee makes a mistake."
In other words, sometimes you just have to accept the referee's decision. No ands, butts… or toes.
Copyright 2026 NPR

As triple-digit temperatures bake some parts of California, two new laws aim to help educate students about heat illness and protect them from it.

This week, Gov. Gavin Newsom signed a law that will require the state Board of Education to consider teaching students about the symptoms of heat illness in schools. Another law, which the governor signed in 2024 with a key deadline this month, requires schools to come up with rules for outdoor activities when there are extreme weather events like heat waves.

Both are promising, low-cost measures. But neither requires the state to spend money on the things that experts say would actually make schools safer: updated HVAC, shade structures, a funded health curriculum. The governor's office says as of now it has no plans to propose funding for an updated health framework.

The laws “demonstrate that children in California are already being harmed by extreme heat,” said Sarah Matsumoto, director of policy and government affairs for Green Schoolyards America. “It's not a future problem anymore. There definitely needs to be a comprehensive plan to protect children from extreme heat.”

A student’s experience becomes law

In 2022, during a record-breaking, triple-digit heat wave in Sacramento, the air conditioning in Natalie Rubio’s school cafeteria gave out. She was in the fourth grade; she and her classmates had to eat lunch outside.

Now 13, Natalie recalls some of her peers feeling sick – flushed with red cheeks and headaches, symptoms of heat illness. She brought her experience, and her idea for a bill promoting heat education, to the legislature: Assemblymember Tom Lackey, a Palmdale Republican, wrote Assembly Bill 1653.

Adding guidance on how to teach heat illness in schools is a “simple, common-sense step,” Lackey said in a legislative hearing about the bill.

“This bill creates no mandates,” said Lackey. “It simply promotes awareness and prevention. Because sometimes the most powerful way to protect our students is by giving them the knowledge to protect themselves.”

Heat illness is a growing concern for students, parents and educators as heat waves become stronger and longer. In California, 618 children ages 5 to 17 went to the emergency room in 2024 because of heat illness, according to Tracking California, a health surveillance tool by the Public Health Institute. That’s about a 30% jump from the previous year.

California students lost more than 40,000 hours of instructional time in the 2025-26 school year due to closures and disruptions from extreme heat, according to data collected by UndauntedK12. Extreme heat accounted for 73% of weather-related school closures in the fall semester.

Natalie envisions short, interactive lessons tailored to each grade level and reminders during heat waves. “I want schools to teach every student the signs and symptoms of heat illness and how to respond in a memorable way,” the middle school student said.

Lackey’s law doesn't guarantee new lessons — that depends on when the state next updates its health education framework, which last happened in 2019.

The Board of Education could incorporate heat illness lessons into its health education framework – a voluntary guide for teaching about subjects including nutrition, physical activity, drugs and alcohol and mental health – the next time it considers updates. But there's no further update scheduled, and doing so again “must be initiated and funded by the legislature.” Marissa Saldivar, a spokesperson for the governor, referred questions about whether the administration would fund a new framework to the education board. The board did not respond to CalMatters’ questions by deadline.

Stephanie Seidmon, a project manager for UndauntedK12, said the nonprofit educational advocacy group supported the law “because this is a potentially low-cost solution in a time when our state budget is (limited).”

If an eventual update does include heat illness education, it could make a real difference in the number of kids that end up in the nurse’s office with serious symptoms, said Rosemarie Dowell, government relations committee chair for the California School Nurses Organization.

Students “might not realize that this headache or this dizziness might not just be feeling tired but could be a sign of heat illness,” Dowell said. “That can empower them to react for themselves, react for somebody else, to encourage them to get water, to find that shade or to tell an adult.”

A push for more protections

The state Department of Education offers no official guidance on how hot is too hot for students to be outside, or how teachers should respond to unusually high temperatures. The department refers schools to a list of resources, including the state health department’s guidance on extreme heat, defined as longer than two days and nights.

Nationally, an estimated 9,000 high school athletes suffer from and receive treatment for exertional heat illness every year, with most incidents occurring in the month of August. The California Interscholastic Federation, which governs high school sports, sets and can enforce heat-related policies, including rules about practice times and hydration breaks for student athletes.

Senate Bill 1248, authored by Sen. Melissa Hurtado, a Bakersfield Democrat, requires schools to adopt protocols for outdoor activities, such as sports practice and recess, during extreme weather. This includes setting criteria for when schools should cancel outdoor activity. The death of 12-year-old Yahshua Robinson, who in August 2023 collapsed and died during P.E. class in Lake Elsinore, prompted that law.

The law requires schools to develop heat-safety plans that include monitoring weather forecasts, designating safe indoor alternatives to outdoor activities, and training staff to recognize heat stress, among other measures. The law required schools to have those plans ready by July 1 of this year.

In a legislative hearing in 2024, Yahshua’s mother said her son died following dangerous school rules.

“It was in the nineties outside that day, and even the best and highly trained athletes wouldn't run in it,” she said. “Yet Yahshua's class of middle schoolers were made to run in that heat. Physical education should happen only in environments conducive for physical activity.”

The funding gap that laws don’t touch

School and environmental advocates want state leaders to go further by investing in better cooling systems and more shady areas for children to play. But limited state and school funding stands in the way.

“Many of our school buildings were built before the era of extreme heat fueled by climate change,” Seidmon said. “Our kids are playing on playgrounds, in schoolyards and on fields that don't have shade ... So it's critical that our school buildings and grounds protect our children from extreme heat.”

Emily Penner, an associate professor of education at UC Irvine, is researching the effects of heat exposure on school children and how schools are adapting to warmer days. Response, she’s learning, varies widely by region — schools that have long struggled with extreme heat are more likely to try new approaches, such as using more heat-resilient materials for playgrounds and prioritizing air conditioning in school buses.

Adaptation efforts like shading infrastructure and HVAC in most schools can make a significant difference, Penner says. At the same time, these projects require funding that many schools may not have.

“This is a case where we have some pretty concrete things we know we need to do, like put HVAC at most schools across the state, and now we have to kind of figure out how to marshal political support for something like that,” Penner said.

Money on the table, but not enough

Even where funding exists, schools are finding it hard to secure or insufficient to meet the need. In 2020, the legislature created a state program, known as CalShape, funded by utility ratepayers, which has helped schools pay for assessments and upgrades to their air conditioning systems. But the program administrator, the California Energy Commission, abruptly paused applications in 2024, citing budget constraints. The state will return the leftover $200 million to investor-owned utilities if the Legislature doesn't act by the end of the year.

In 2024, Californians voted to approve Proposition 2, a bond measure that earmarks $10 billion for school facilities. But school modernization projects already demand more than  the funding provides.

Voters also approved Proposition 4, which sends another $10 billion to climate projects statewide. That includes $50 million for the state’s Urban Forestry Program, which funnels money to local projects that add green space, including in schools.

“Compared to the federal government and many states, California is one of the leaders in this issue,” Matsumoto said. “And we are still not collectively meeting the moment.”

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.

A nonprofit law firm has created a resource to teach people who are in custody at the Adelanto ICE Processing Center, or at the neighboring Desert View Annex, how to challenge their detainment.

Available in English and in Spanish, the information packet walks immigrant detainees through the process of filling out their own petitions for habeas corpus.

“Habeas corpus” means “you have the body” in Latin. In the U.S., this writ refers to a judicial order that forces authorities to bring the person they’ve detained before a federal district court and justify their continued confinement.

This provision — enshrined in Section 9 of Article I of the U.S. Constitution — is a safeguard against arbitrary imprisonment.

Immigrant Defenders Law Center created its resource for people who meet two criteria:

1. The petitioner has an open case in immigration court or a pending appeal with the Board of Immigration Appeals.
2. The petitioner was previously detained and released by immigrant officials. 

Once immigrant officials release a detainee — once they decide that the person in question is not dangerous and does not pose a flight risk — “they can't just arrest you again without proof of any change in circumstance,” said Sarah Houston, managing attorney of the law firm’s rapid response team.

An LAist investigation recently found that more immigrants are being held in detention without bond, and the increase in denials is steepest at Adelanto. Plus, given reports of unsanitary and unsafe conditions at Adelanto, along with a surge in deaths at ICE detention facilities across the country, Houston said her team is acting out of a sense of urgency.

“We don't want anyone to sit in detention for months and months, when they could potentially be drafting this and getting out,” she said.

How this resource helps immigrant detainees

Immigrant Defenders Law Center is based in downtown L.A. Each week, their attorneys make the trek to the long-term detention facilities in Adelanto, out in the Mojave desert.

“We have a great network [of pro bono and low bono lawyers],” Houston said, “but there is no way we have enough attorneys to meet the needs of [scores of detainees].”

At the same time, she added, the U.S. District Court for the Central District of California was getting inundated with petitions for habeas corpus — so much so that it made a form for detainees who opt to represent themselves. In the legal world, self-representation is referred to as “pro se.”

Meanwhile, Houston and her team kept hearing about people who’d been re-detained at Adelanto. In response, they created their resource for these “pro se” litigants.

The nonprofit’s 24-page resource contains detailed instructions on how to file a petition for habeas corpus, but it’s meant to be uncomplicated, Houston said. When creating it, the law firm’s goal was to “make it as clear as possible,” while mitigating the possibility that petitioners might make a mistake.

Before sharing the resource widely, the law firm identified one detainee for a test case. A judge decided the government was holding that person in custody illegally. Then, another detainee used the resource to secure his release and that of five others, Houston said.

Now, when her team goes to Adelanto, they take packets of the resource with them to distribute widely among detainees.

“Our clients are so intelligent and so resourceful, and they will do anything to go back to their families,” she said. “Our job is to give them as much information as possible for them to be able to draft the best habeas.”

What happens if a petitioner makes an error?  

Even with detailed instructions, Houston acknowledged, detainees who file habeas corpus petitions “sometimes do make mistakes.” As a result, their petition might get rejected, forcing the detainee to refile. But in Houston’s experience, courts tend to be more lenient when people are representing themselves.

“If it's a minor error, they'll just go forward with it,” she said.

Under the second Trump administration, petitions for habeas corpus have skyrocketed.

A ProPublica report found that immigrants filed more of these petitions in the first 13 months of the second Trump administration than in the past three administrations combined — including President Donald Trump’s first. In parts of California and Texas, these petitions have been especially prevalent.

Houston underscored that the resource her team created is specifically geared at people who are both detained at Adelanto and who meet the criteria she outlined.

Habeas corpus is “so complicated that you can't make a resource like this for every type of person,” she said. “We wanted to start off where we know exactly what the case law is, where it's pretty clear cut.”

The law firm is currently working on translating the resource, to ensure it’s available to immigrants who speak other languages.