While helping mom Noelle Johnson prepare the evening meal, Charlie, 10, nurses a slight cut to a finger after helping to open a can, Tuesday, Oct. 4, 2022, at their home in Santa Rosa. (Kent Porter/The Press Democrat)

They were in kindergarten during the 2017 North Bay fires. Then COVID-19 hit. Will their generation be defined by disaster?

In the worlds young Charlie McBride has created in Minecraft, forest fires aren’t that scary, their smoke has no actual smell and pandemics are only possible through “mods,” simple hacks of the popular online game.

In fact, in the five years since the North Bay Wildfires, these virtual environments of 3D world-building have offered Charlie a respite from half a lifetime of real-world climate chaos.

A simple game setting can control the most dangerous characteristic of wildfire.

“We usually, in settings, turned off ‘Fire Spreads,’” Charlie said. “So, if we put down a campfire, it wouldn't spread, because we didn't want our houses to burn — sometimes we had, like, fireplaces and then we would come back from an adventure and our entire house would be burned.”

Charlie , now 10, was one of 6,336 public school kids in Sonoma County who were enrolled in kindergarten in the fall of 2017. Back then, the dense smoke of the Tubbs Fire forced Charlie and their family to evacuate from their home in downtown Santa Rosa.

Fifth grader Charlie, 10, dives in to the virtual world of Minecraft as mom Noelle Johnson finishes up working from home, Tuesday, Sept. 27, 2022 at their home in Santa Rosa.  (Kent Porter/The Press Democrat)
Fifth grader Charlie, 10, dives in to the virtual world of Minecraft as mom Noelle Johnson finishes up working from home, Tuesday, Sept. 27, 2022 at their home in Santa Rosa. (Kent Porter/The Press Democrat)

Charlie’s mother, Noelle Johnson, recalls the air being too toxic to breathe, and their school was closed for weeks. Charlie’s optimism was depicted in pictures of forest animals surviving the fire, as well as the Lady Gaga dance party they instigated amid the aftermath of the fires.

Since kindergarten, Charlie and other fifth graders have hardly known a school year without major disruptions wrought, arguably, by climate change — whether it was perennial wildfires that choked North Coast skies for days on end or a historic pandemic that halted in-person classes for entire semesters.

Call them Generation Disaster, a cohort of kids, who in the most cynical of views, could be living through the early hiccups of Earth’s last gasp. In some ways, it’s the next chapter of a disaster narrative that’s plagued many youth since the 9/11 terrorist attacks and the early 21st-century school shooting epidemic.

Though arguably not as frightening as a real-life active shooter incident, the smoke-filled skies of a nearby wildfire have a broader and more widespread impact.

For kids in Sonoma County, they pose the most tangible existential threat, triggering anxiety and fear with every gust of wind in October.

In Florida and Louisiana, Generation Disaster is molded by hurricanes and rising seas, while in Texas, Oklahoma and the Midwest it’s tornadoes, heat waves and flooding.

When the pandemic shut everything down, Charlie, like so many other kids, turned to technology for human connection.

“I've always hated video games and the very concept of virtual reality, but have had to learn to appreciate the virtual play dates … and the pixelated beauty and creativity of the worlds they create there,” Johnson wrote in an email.

“My kid seems to be able to transition effortlessly between appreciating the beauty of the real world when we're out in it (or what's left of it) and the virtual one. What's looked like a dystopian surrealism to me is just their reality,” she said.

But technology can only do so much. Local mental health experts are increasingly seeing the emotional and psychological effects of wildfire season among young people.

“There’s no doubt there's been a disruption to students academically, socially and behaviorally and in terms of their mental health as a whole.” Dan Blake, Sonoma County Office of Education managing director for educational support services

Jenny Silverstein, a licensed clinical social worker and “climate aware” therapist, said the mental health issues local children face have changed since the North Bay wildfires.

“In 2017, what I was seeing was this kind of acute trauma response or acute anxiety, where sometimes kids only used a handful of sessions to kind of play out some of what they had experienced during Tubbs and then they moved on,” Silverstein said.

Subsequent wildfires and the pandemic, however, have created a more universal destabilizing effect. A year after the Tubbs Fire, smoke from the Camp Fire blanketed the North Bay even though the flames were more than 100 miles away, and then in 2019 and 2020, the Kincade, Walbridge and Glass fires roared through with a vengeance.

“I have seen that between (wildfires) and COVID … kids are having emotional and social challenges, I think, are the result of all of these disruptions — disruptions to their school routine, and it can’t so much be separated out into any single event anymore,” she said.

About this series

October marks the fifth year since the North Bay firestorm that devastated parts of Sonoma, Napa, Mendocino and Lake counties, destroying about 6,200 homes and claiming 40 lives. During the month of October, Press Democrat reporters, photographers and editors revisit those harrowing days and weeks with an eye toward how the disaster impacted our region and how we come to grips with the inevitability of a future bout with catastrophic wildfire.

Week 1: How living with the reality of fire has changed us and the land we live on.

Week 2: Despite a $13.5 billion fund set aside by the courts for fire victims, many have yet to see what they’re owed.

Week 3: Fire took a physical and emotional toll on everyone, especially children.

Week 4: Tales of tragedy, tales of heroism. Where are they now?

Week 5: What we’ve learned, and how we’ll move forward.

For additional coverage, including podcast episodes and reporting honored with the Pulitzer Prize for breaking news in 2018, go to www.pressdemocrat.com/fiveyearsafterfirestorm.

If you have a story to share, please email pdnews@pressdemocrat.com.

Silverstein said children have “resiliency factors” that are completely internal, just as some kids are born with certain sensory sensitivities, such as those who are on the autism spectrum. What’s more, not all children have equal support resources and networks.

“You could take two different kids from the exact same school who had the exact same amount of disruption, and one of them has a big, wealthy extended family with lots of caregivers, and one of them has a struggling, impoverished single parent and you're going to see two completely different outcomes,” she said.

Mounting anxiety amid habitual disasters

About one in six Sonoma County middle school and high school students report they are still “meaningfully feeling the effects of the wildfires,” according to the latest YouthTruth survey. That is a collaborative effort between local education officials, foundations and community organizations.

The survey, which gauges school engagement, relationships, mental health, culture, belonging and college and career readiness, was first conducted in Sonoma County months before the Tubbs Fire. At that time, just two schools and about 1,000 students participated.

But the fallout of years of repeated fires and the pandemic have fueled greater participation. The next survey, conducted in 2018 drew 4,561 high school students, as well as 499 parents and 243 school staff.

“I am optimistic, but I feel like if we continue what we’re doing, I don’t think the world will end up well.” Charlie McBride

After the Kincade Fire of 2019, participation grew to 11,965 students from grades three to 12, and included 3,508 parents and 1,152 staff. The fourth year drew nearly 40,000 survey participants, 23,581 of them students.

This year nearly 61,000 community members, including 37,000 students, participated, said Alejandra Solis-Pérez, a student engagement liaison with the Sonoma County Office of Education. This year’s survey included questions about the pandemic.

“So 54% of elementary students, 38% of middle school students and 51% of high school students said they’ve been moderately or significantly impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic — ongoing pandemic,” said Solis-Pérez.

Solis-Pérez was a teacher at Dunbar Elementary in Glen Ellen. At the time the survey was conducted in January, she became infected with COVID-19, forcing her to lose two weeks of school.

Solis-Pérez said that at one time during the pandemic, Dunbar had three teachers — a third of the school’s teaching staff — out on leave caring for ailing family members.

The survey also found that among elementary school students, 7% reported feeling sad and 18% said they felt stressed “all the time” in the past week.

What’s more, 48% of middle school students and 55% of high school students cited feeling depressed, stressed or anxious.

Academic losses

Tyson Dickinson, Sonoma County Office of Education’s director of behavioral health services, and other education leaders agree that data comparison is difficult given the rapid growth of survey participation and the rapid succession and evolution of natural disasters and COVID since the Tubbs Fire.

“It would be risky to say the numbers were this and now they’re this, because we don’t have those numbers,” Dickinson said. “But this does, I would say, parallel reports I hear from people working with students, that there’s been an increase of anxiety, depression, experiencing toxic stress.”

Dickinson’s department was actually created to support local school districts following the 2017 fires and help them address the mental health needs that arose thereafter. The office of education’s behavioral health team is, in fact, the fastest growing department at the agency.

Assessing the impact disaster-related disruptions have had on academic performance will take some time, said Dan Blake, the office’s managing director for educational support services. Student achievement from last year should begin shedding light on the impact of the pandemic, he said.

“That becomes one of many tools that we're gonna use to identify where the largest learning and support needs are,” he said. “There’s no doubt there's been a disruption to students academically, socially and behaviorally and in terms of their mental health as a whole.”

Between wildfire, flooding and the pandemic, years of disasters have taken their toll on school attendance in Sonoma County, particularly in Santa Rosa, the north county and the west county, according to data from the Sonoma County Office of Education.

Fifth grader Charlie, 10, and mom Noelle Johnson eat their  evening meal, Tuesday, Oct. 4, 2022, at their home in Santa Rosa. (Kent Porter/The Press Democrat)
Fifth grader Charlie, 10, and mom Noelle Johnson eat their evening meal, Tuesday, Oct. 4, 2022, at their home in Santa Rosa. (Kent Porter/The Press Democrat)

For example, the Geyserville Unified School District closed for 33 days between fall 2017 and November 2021. Guerneville School District closed for 32 days, followed by Santa Rosa City Schools and Kenwood School District, both at 31 days.

Mark West Union, Piner-Olivet Union and Rincon Valley Union School District all closed for 25 days.

The federal agency’s National Assessment Educational Progress, conducted since 1969, found that average scores for 9-year-old students in 2022 declined 5 points in reading and 7 points in mathematics compared to 2020.

Anecdotally, students and educators describe unusually silent classrooms, with kids hesitant to speak up; first and second graders who struggle to hold a pencil correctly; and, on many campuses, a noticeable increase in referrals to the principal’s office.

Parents of young children worry about setbacks in early learning, even as older students are concerned about having less time to make up missed material.

The latest academic assessment by the National Center for Education Statistics, released last month, revealed a sober fact about the pandemic’s effect on young students. The federal agency’s National Assessment Educational Progress, conducted since 1969, found that average scores for 9-year-old students in 2022 declined 5 points in reading and 7 points in mathematics compared to 2020.

The agency said it’s the largest average score decline in reading since 1990, and the first score decline in mathematics.

Post-fire insomnia

Maria Lopez, 43, was living in Healdsburg with her children in October 2017. It was 10 p.m. that Sunday night when the Tubbs Fire started, and she had just gotten off work at the FoodMaxx off Stony Point Road; she could smell smoke but had no idea what was coming.

Her five kids were spending the night with her aunt, who lives near Coffey Park, while Lopez worked. At about 2 a.m. a friend called Lopez to ask if she was OK because, “Santa Rosa was on fire.”

Lopez’s aunt, the kids and a guinea pig evacuated toward the coast; they stayed in the Safeway parking lot in Guerneville for three days. Another aunt was already there in her RV after evacuating from her home in Larkfield.

Lopez said her daughter Isabella, now 10, suffered from insomnia as a toddler and that it took about a year to help her develop a regular sleeping pattern.

The Tubbs Fire and then the pandemic brought back sleepless nights for the girl.

“The insomnia came back,” Lopez said. “I catch her in the middle of the night. I can hear her walking around. She’ll sleep maybe three hours, then wake up half the night … It’s like she’s never tired. She’ll say, ‘I’m not tired. I’m not tired.’ She’ll fall asleep and then wake up.”

Her son, Gabriel, 9, and Isabella, now in the fourth and fifth grades, respectively, become filled with fear when they smell smoke outside or if the skies look smoky, she said, adding that they suddenly get the urge to start packing their evacuation bags.

Silverstein, the Santa Rosa therapist, said after five years of natural disasters, many Sonoma County residents have moved beyond the stage of climate anxiety to climate distress, where the fallout of global warming is taking place in real time.

“It’s unfolding here,” she said. “I don’t know that anxiety — in terms of the way that word is being used nationwide to describe climate emotions — I don’t know that that’s the right fit for this community.”

Fifth grader Charlie, 10, helps mom Noelle Johnson prepare the evening meal, Tuesday, Oct. 4, 2022, at their home in Santa Rosa.  (Kent Porter/The Press Democrat)
Fifth grader Charlie, 10, helps mom Noelle Johnson prepare the evening meal, Tuesday, Oct. 4, 2022, at their home in Santa Rosa. (Kent Porter/The Press Democrat)

Talking about climate change

When nearby or distant smoke fills the sky every year during fire season, giving streets, buildings and people an unsettling orange hue, young students see firsthand the progression of climate change.

Mental health professionals say it’s easy for young people to despair amid the avalanche of information about climate change conveyed in classrooms or on YouTube. Discussions about urban wildfire and other effects of climate change are often framed in doomsday scenarios that describe the planet as unlivable.

Teaching young people about climate change without empowering them or giving them a voice in the search for solutions only feeds that sense of despair and hopelessness, said Matt O’Donnell, a curriculum specialist for the county education office.

Last October, the county education office created the Environmental Justice Coalition, which allows participating students to take action on climate issues affecting the local community, particularly marginalized neighborhoods. Some 58 middle and high school students from nine schools embarked on yearlong projects that sought real solutions to local issues.

One project tested air quality in neighborhoods near the Central Landfill west of Petaluma, while another focused on hazardous air quality for vineyard workers during harvest, which often coincides with active wildfires.

“The key is to give them ways that they can make change,” O’Donnell said. “If we teach them about climate change without empowering them to take some kind of civic action, that’s where the anxiety comes in, where they feel helpless and they feel like it’s somebody else’s issue.”

Jessica Progulske, director of data and engagement at the county’ office of education, said there’s been a great deal of research around the impact of childhood adversity and resiliency. She said studies show that children who are empowered and given the opportunity to participate in problem solving are better able to deal with anxiety, stress and trauma.

Charlie, 10, and mom Noelle Johnson finish their evening meal, Tuesday, Oct. 4, 2022, at their home in Santa Rosa. Charlie, a fifth grader, uses washable markers from time to time to write on a dining room window.  (Kent Porter/The Press Democrat)
Charlie, 10, and mom Noelle Johnson finish their evening meal, Tuesday, Oct. 4, 2022, at their home in Santa Rosa. Charlie, a fifth grader, uses washable markers from time to time to write on a dining room window. (Kent Porter/The Press Democrat)

Charlie is hopeful about the future, but the fifth grader often becomes frustrated when people start talking about finding another planet to live on.

“I am optimistic, but I feel like if we continue what we’re doing, I don’t think the world will end up well.”

You can reach Staff Writer Martin Espinoza at 707-521-5213 or martin.espinoza@pressdemocrat.com. On Twitter @pressreno.

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