Category: Data Journalism

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Written in 2017

In 2003, Ian Urbina, a graduate student at the University of Chicago, abandoned his doctoral dissertation after completing a small journalism internship with an investigative reporter, which gave him a taste of reporting.

That taste landed him a job at one of the largest news media outlets in the US, a handful of awards, and a few investigative pieces that were turned into feature films.

That’s where his love of journalism has culminated over the past 14 years. 

A Fulbright scholar who worked and lived in Havana for three years, he was enrolled in a dual degree program with majors in cultural anthropology and history. He received a degree in history from Georgetown University in 1995. 

Urbina wasn’t expecting to find himself with the platform he has as a writer. Things just happened that way. He says his life gets weirder the deeper you go.

“I’m kind of an oddball, and so my day-to-day is pretty different than the norm,” he said.

Urbina’s typical day as an investigative journalist consists of long hours. Currently on book leave, he sDCs his days at home near The New York Times’ Washington, D.C., Bureau. 

He wakes up at the crack of dawn, around 4 in the morning, because that’s when he feels he works better. He has one main editor he works with in DC.

Urbina has his own office conveniently in the backyard. 

“I am a bit distractible, and do much better in kind of a deprivation chamber,” he said.

Urbina credits luck for his position at the Times. Little by little, he worked his way up the totem pole through freelancing. A stint with Think Tank is the moment that changed Urbina’s life, thrusting him into a mainstream career as a journalist. He learned everything there is to know about journalism “on the fly” at the DC Bureau metro desk, because he was clueless.

“I knew how to string together a sentence and make it occasionally somewhat polished, but I didn’t really know newspaper writing and all that entails,” he said.

After a year and a half at the metro desk, Urbina moved on to bureau chief. He managed an area from Kentucky to Ohio, noting that it was a challenging job because it was not a local paper — this was a paper on a national scale.

One day, Urbina asked his editor if he could take a break from the news rat race and spend a year researching documents for an article.

His editor said Go for it.

Urbina’s most recent piece, “Outlaw Ocean,” was not only his longest stint at three years, but it was also a dangerous and stressful assignment. It’s currently being turned into a book and a movie project. 

His editor was not a fan of the series, which also added to the list of obstacles surrounding the completion of his research.

Investigating overseas requires taking several precautions, including ensuring that you have a reliable translator. Without one, a journalist is entirely out of luck. No matter how good a writer you are, without a translator, nothing will be done properly, Urbina says.

Violence was a common occurrence while reporting in other countries.

The things he saw included murder on camera, sex trafficking, slavery, and arms trafficking.

Urbina says that spacing out trips, along with knowing who you hire, helps with the investigative process abroad.

“The difficulty (with reporting overseas) is the reporting itself,” he said.”You’re chasing really bleak stuff.”

His findings on fracking in 2011, in a series called “Drilling Down,” helped show the US how dangerous the government’s want for natural gas really was. Before Democrats were against the practice, fracking was seen as a gold mine, while few questioned whether it was detrimental to the government. Urbina, however, questioned it.

“That series was tough, it was aggressive, and we got really strong pushback from the (oil) industry,” he said.

Urbina felt that the documents surrounding the fracking piece were some of the craziest things he had read as an investigative journalist.

“So like, everyone knew there was radioactivity in the waste coming out of these wells,” he said. “But no one knew how much radioactivity.”

The fracking, which caused drastic leaks that seeped into sewage treatment plants, was utterly unknown to the nation until it was investigated.

 It took hours of poring over documents and piecing together each part of the puzzle little by little, but in the end, it worked out for him. That’s one of the key things to being a journalist–sifting through documents.

“If you can name the monster, you can beat the monster, and that’s true with document hunting,” he said.

Urbina had a team compile an extensive archive of the documents found, still accessible on the Times today. There have been no corrections made to the database, which contains approximately 500 pages of documents.

“Drilling Down” took at least four months to report, Urbina says. As far as requesting documents through the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA), Urbina typically expects a response within at least a year. 

A beat, data, documents, and spreadsheets are the tools for any journalist’s future. It’s also essential to consider distribution afterward. A reporter’s job is to break news, not follow it. 

What is key to investigative reporting is finding a new way to tell old stories, or new stories. 

That’s the space that Urbina lives in.

“You’re not done when you finish the story,” he said. “Don’t just put it in your paper.”

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Taken during the 2017 Point In Time Count outside of Downtown Fullerton.

By Ashlyn Ramirez

Fullerton Mayor Bruce Whitaker tries to walk a fine line on the city’s housing crisis. He acknowledges the growing problem of homelessness but then throws up his hands and says he’s powerless to do anything about it. 

“I think it’s very important that people can find adequate living space without consuming their entire incomes,” Whitaker told the Daily Titan, the student newspaper at California State University, Fullerton. But he was quick to add in the 2017 interview that “the government itself is part of the culprit of driving prices up.” 

The city of Fullerton still accepts state and federal money to provide affordable housing. Since that 2017 interview, the city has received millions of dollars towards various ventures to clean up the streets.

Orange County also recently received $5,764,931 in federal funding for homeless assistance. It’s not clear where all of the money goes while a strained community struggles to make ends meet.

Somehow, millions of dollars turn into only 145 new units since 2017, with 45 still in construction. The New Vista Shelter consists of eight homes for transitional youth ages 18-24. Yet, Fullerton accounts for almost 1,500 unsheltered individuals alone, and Orange County as a whole saw a 43 percent rise in homelessness since then.

The problem could be even worse as the reports do not factor in people living out of their cars or “couch surfing.” In Orange County, the backdrop for the crisis is one of the nation’s wealthiest communities, a landed aristocracy served by teachers, nurses, and shopkeepers who can’t afford what passes for affordable housing in the county.

Throw in demand created by Cal State Fullerton and its working-class student body, and the magnitude of the problem starts to take shape. How made is it? The title of the American Civil Liberties Union 2019 report on Orange County — “This Place is Killing Me” — says it all.

Local government must address the humanitarian crisis presented by homelessness through permanent and affordable housing, the ACLU report concludes. 

The ACLU found the county can house their homeless but will not due to lack of political will. On top of that, the report found living conditions in affordable housing are just as bad–if not worse–than sleeping on the street. 

CSUF graduate student Christopher Rael, 33, said he was short on tuition one semester at community college during the 2008 recession. He saved money for school, and life happened. The money was gone to a cause. There was no one to fall back on. 

“For example, when I was sleeping in my car, I did have a job at the time. So that huge misconception about pulling yourself up by your bootstraps? I was doing that,” said Rael. But he was only getting 6 hours per week. And it’s hard to live off $80 weekly in any part of California, even over a decade ago.

Rael said his parents weren’t “equipped” to support an adult in college. So, he found himself sleeping in his car. Telling anyone his situation was not an option. Sometimes, you have to pay for tuition or pay for a roof over your head. 

When at a financial aid meeting to understand the metrics behind FAFSA’s Expected Family Contribution, Rael said, “I explained that I could show that I’m literally homeless. I could walk you out to my car right now, where all my stuff is in my back seat. And he [the worker] looked me square in the face, and I’ll never forget his words.”

The worker told Rael that he could lie to him [about being homeless], and it wasn’t a risk that he was willing to take. But another worker, a Havard-trained psychologist, was able to secure financial assistance for him. 

CSUF has one of the highest cases of housing and food insecurities in the state system, according to a 2018 report. Out of 23 schools, CSUF is also the least-funded public university in the entire CSU system. 

The price of living there simply does not fit the mold of a budget college experience.

In 2016, City Council-member Jennifer Fitzgerald spoke about wanting to steer CSUF away from its commuter school status. She also spoke about her efforts to end homelessness in Fullerton. “I’ve worked really hard over the last four years on ending homelessness in our community,” Fitzgerald said. 

She said she wanted to “expand affordable housing for students.” It’s been almost five years since then. It’s been ten years since Fullerton knew about their ten-year-plan to eradicate homelessness.

Fullerton does not want affordable, permanent housing or shelters near the university. Unless it’s volunteer work that they can leave when done with their good deed for the day. Why? Because the university does not fall under a designated geographic location required to have affordable housing there. 

With almost 20 percent of unsheltered individuals living out of their car in the past year, there’s no doubt there are college students who can’t afford a place or a commute.

Addressing an underrepresented community

According to a county report, the average median income for a Fullerton resident is $80,000. That’s almost 60 percent more than the average American, who makes about $47,216 a year. 

Relying on a median income to address affordable housing issues drives out locals, single families, educators, and college students alike, said Fullerton Personnel Commissioner and Climate Action Campaign Advocate Jose Trinidad Castaneda, 29.

Castaneda, a Fullerton resident and public servant is also a full-time board member of Abundant Housing in Los Angeles, an organization focused on promoting affordable housing. He monitors 17 city council meetings virtually during his current workweek. Having served as a translator for five years, Castaneda’s interest in the lack of affordable housing began out of necessity.

“My housing story began when I was looking for housing myself, and I found that nothing was affordable,” he said. So in 2018, Castaneda began organizing to get accessory dwelling units approved and drop the fees bound to them–just one way to combat the lack of affordable housing statewide.

Whitaker was not available for comment at the time of this publication. Fullerton City Councilmember Fitzgerald was also not available for comment when reached out on LinkedIn and email. Fullerton City Councilmember Jesus Silva replied with a thumbs up on LinkedIn with no further analysis.

Moving forward by acknowledging the past and present

The lack of comment years later is telling of a hidden narrative. It’s too little, too late for many to call any part of Fullerton their home unless you’re white, white-passing, or financially stable. 

“The city is segregated,” Castaneda said. “It’s economically, financially, and racially segregated.”

By 2019, ACLU SoCal found violations in the housing that Orange County offers–including abuse, harassment, neglect, and lack of cleanliness. And just like in 2016, reports existed to guide officials towards ending homelessness.

Part of the problem is policies impacting those with mental health or substance abuse issues, keeping them from the help they need. Castaneda believes that there are not enough types of housing units geared towards very low-income residents.

“I think the police and sheriff are just acting according to the councils’ will. And city councils and elected leaders have done everything to tell themselves and tell their constituents that doing anything to help solve homelessness or help people in need is only going to attract more homeless people,” said Castaneda. 

When it comes to Whitaker, Castaneda says he doesn’t even listen to him anymore. He does not find him a credible source.

No accountability remains commonplace amongst local officials.

A 2016 Fullerton Housing Authority reported that those in charge of reaching yearly goals for projects like multi-family rental housing and low-income housing loans failed to do so. Almost a million dollars went towards extremely low-income renters in only one fiscal year. 

Other years there was nothing spent at all. 

Lack of oversight happened because of the minimal amount of housing units subsidized by donors. Therefore, there’s no track of specific rent-controlled projects and the demographics of people who need them. 

Another public document found almost $100,000 spent solely on monitoring/policing expenditures and about $2,700 in relocation in the 2018-2019 fiscal year. The same year, the ACLU published their piece on Orange County’s negligent emergency shelters.

If a one-way bus ticket costs $4 for an adult, that money will send at least 675 unsheltered out of the city that maybe could not go into a shelter. 

The most common story told by residents is one of the voices falling upon deaf ears. Fullerton’s government spent money allocated for homeless assistance on one-way bus tickets before, said Castaneda. 

A beacon of ocean waves and sunny skies is where the lost get sent across counties and institutions, culminating into other pits of gentrification.

While Rael finishes his M.A., he teaches underprivileged communities in Long Beach. Over the years, he’s created school programs that give back to those on Skid Row. He believes adding sociology classes into the high school curriculum and taking police officers out of schools is a start to combating poverty’s stigmas young. 

Until the pandemic ends, though, Rael plans on staying put for the safety of his students. So, there are other ways he gives back to a community that he was a part of not long ago.

“I don’t put it on the Internet. But every day, when I walk to the coffee shop, I come out with donuts. They’re not just for me. You know what I mean; people are sleeping outside that can use breakfast. You know it’s a little bit like that that makes a major difference,” he said.