Latinos often struggle to keep their footing in the middle class. The fires made it even harder for these families

Sylvia Zamora could not afford to buy a single-family home in the Altadena foothills, where she dreamed of raising her son with its beautiful parks and highly rated schools.

Like many Latinas, she was taking care of not only her son but also her elderly mother.

But when interest rates hit an all-time low during the COVID-19 pandemic, she realized she could buy a duplex. By renting out one of the units, she could live in Altadena on her salary as an associate professor of sociology while helping to sustain multiple generations. It was a dream come true for the first-generation college graduate from the working-class neighborhood of South Gate. But then it all burned down in January.

“Altadena was very aspirational for me,” she said. “My dream for providing a better life for my son — in moments, I feel it is lost.”

Zamora and her son are staying in South Gate again with her mother. Her son’s father’s home also burned down in Altadena.

It’s no secret that Latinos across the region have been disproportionately devastated by the historic L.A. fires. They were among the middle and working-class individuals whose homes burned down and among those who lost their jobs serving families in Pacific Palisades and Altadena. While some ultrawealthy Californians who lost homes moved quickly to buy new ones, countless families like Zamora’s are still in desperate need of assistance.

(Sarahi Apaez / For De Los)

These families include first-generation college graduates who were already struggling to gain a foothold in the middle class. I know because I’ve been documenting the lives of 61 millennial Latinx college graduates for over 15 years. Many are the children of immigrants who work or worked as nannies, caregivers to the elderly, housekeepers and gardeners. They are part of a generation whose members have long fought for economic mobility. But many remain stuck.

They have faced stagnant wages, an impossible housing market and heavy student loan debt burdens, all while also having to care for their working-class parents. For those who have been able to purchase homes, it has never stopped feeling precarious.

After studying sociology in graduate school, Zamora moved back in with her 82-year-old mother, an immigrant from Mexico, who is retired from her job at a factory. Her mother’s Social Security was not enough to live on, so Zamora and her son helped out. Together, they made life work and Zamora was able to save with her salary as an associate professor of Sociology at Loyola Marymount University and eventually bought her duplex in Altadena, which was about 28% Latino.

Returning home with her mother after the fires felt like taking a step backward in her goal to deliver a different childhood for her son.

The dream of intergenerational mobility feels short-lived and like a constant struggle for Zamora and many others like her. They followed the American bootstraps prescription, did what they were told and graduated from college, expecting the promise of upward mobility. But stability remains elusive.

In January, the journalist and novelist Héctor Tobar wrote of the challenges of holding onto a middle-class home in Los Angeles. This has been part of the struggle that millennial college graduates who I’ve been studying for years are facing. In California, 51% of Latinx borrowers stated their student debt was preventing them from saving for retirement, while 45% stated it was preventing them from purchasing a home.

Many of these Latinx graduates have balanced these financial burdens while caring for their parents as well. Latinx college graduates are more likely to be connected to family across class lines. They are more likely to cohabit with their parents for financial reasons and Latinx children of immigrants are more likely than any other group to provide financially for their families. Forty-seven of the graduates in my study were providing some financial assistance to their parents.

(Sarahi Apaez / For De Los)

Brenda Mata rented out her Altadena home just a year ago in order to take care of her ailing mother in Covina. She and her husband had been living in Altadena since 2013 and raising their son. She described their life as “picturesque,” with “a beautiful community.”

“Altadena was peaceful, outside the chaos but close enough to the city,” she said through tears. “We never took a day for granted.”

The home was also destroyed in the Eaton fire. “We had this economic pay-off, then it’s gone from one day to the next,” she told me. “It breaks my heart.”

Mata and her husband are both children of Oaxacan immigrants. Mata’s parents worked as a gardener and a housekeeper. Her parents’ childhoods were characterized by poverty and food insecurity. They often worried where their next meal would come from. As a first-generation college graduate with an MBA, Mata was able to make a middle-class life for her child.

“My son does not have to worry about money, he can just be a kid, and be confident,” she said.

First-generation college graduates like Mata who have been fortunate enough to attain high-income jobs have fared the best among middle-class Latinos but that success has been balanced with other responsibilities such as paying student loans, securing housing and often taking care of their working-class parents.

Mata had just managed to pay off her student loans a few years ago. Zamora still carries a small balance. Now they have to deal with the damages the fire has caused, while Republicans talk of putting conditions on disaster aid.

As of now, Zamora and Mata’s renters have received their security deposit and prorated rent back. Zamora filed a claim with her insurance company but continues to pay her mortgage. Mata’s lender said she could take a deferment for six months, but the total mortgage for six months would come due after that period, so she has chosen to keep paying.

Even people who didn’t lose their homes in the fires are facing enormous challenges. Elsa Rodriguez and her husband are fortunate; their house in Pasadena did not burn down, but they were displaced because of evacuations and damage from Jan. 7 until Feb. 17 with only eight nights covered by insurance.

(Sarahi Apaez / For De Los)

The couple love their home, though it is small; they and their two children live in a 1,100-square-foot hous,e and both work from home. Both are first-generation college graduates with stable jobs and faring much better economically than their immigrant parents. They also help support Rodriguez’s mother-in-law. When they were forced from their home, they stayed with her parents in Antelope Valley, even as they felt a responsibility not to create a financial burden for them.

“I knew when we stayed with them while our home was being restored, that it would impact them financially, so we pitched in with utilities and groceries,” Rodriguez said.

The fire damage has cost the Rodriguez family approximately $20,000, and their insurance broker told them they would most likely be dropped from their home insurance company next year for submitting a claim.

National conservative media has long painted California as a mecca for “coastal elites,” ignoring the realities of people like Rodriguez, Mata and Zamora, who made it into the middle class and are still struggling.

They are each still grieving the devastation in Altadena and everything that community represented to them. “It was majestic,” Zamora said. “The beautiful architecture and mountain views. It represented upward mobility for my family.”

Reyes is an associate professor of sociology at UC Merced.