When wildfires tore through Los Angeles in January 2025, they left a trail of destruction that struck some harder than others. Among the most affected were transgender and nonbinary residents in transitional housing programs—people already fighting to carve out stability in a world that often overlooks them. The flames didn’t just take their roofs; they stole hard-won sanctuaries. But in the wake of loss, a wave of compassion and unity swept in, proving that even the fiercest fires couldn’t extinguish the human spirit.
The Eaton Fire, igniting in Altadena on January 7, ravaged three recovery homes managed by the Los Angeles Centers for Alcohol and Drug Abuse (L.A. CADA). These homes—the Art House, Start House, and Serenity House—housed transgender and nonbinary individuals escaping homelessness, addiction, or past trauma. The Art House, sheltering 32 souls, was reduced to ash. The Start House became an uninhabitable husk. Only Serenity House dodged total ruin. “These weren’t just places to sleep,” said L.A. CADA’s Bill Tarkanian. “They were where people rebuilt their lives, piece by piece.”
For these residents, the losses went beyond the physical. Clothes, makeup, wigs—items essential to their gender expression—vanished in the blaze. “Losing those things isn’t trivial,” said Maebe A. Girl, a local advocate and Silver Lake Neighborhood Council member. “They’re tools for confidence, for identity, for stepping into the world as who you truly are.” In a community often marginalized, this added layer of loss hit hard.
Yet, from the embers, a remarkable story unfolded. The Los Angeles community rallied with open hearts. Donations flowed—$9,000 from neighbors and $8,000 from recovery home alumni—while volunteers brought not just blankets and meals, but wigs, dresses, and toiletries tailored to the residents’ needs. “I watched people with nothing left still find ways to give,” Tarkanian said, tears in his eyes. “That’s what love looks like.”
Rebuilding won’t be swift. With over 16,000 structures lost statewide and a housing crisis gripping California, replacing these homes could take years. But the resolve is unshakable. “We’re not just putting up walls again,” Tarkanian vowed. “We’re lifting each other up.”
This is more than a tale of fire and loss—it’s a testament to the resilience of L.A.’s transgender and nonbinary community and the power of collective care. As the city recovers, their story stands as a beacon: even when everything burns, solidarity can rebuild what matters most.
