It’s another warm morning in Santa Clarita. The mountains stand tall, that familiar ridge separating us from “the other side of the hill.” Out here, neighborhoods are quiet, schools are busy with drop-offs, and families juggle soccer practices, commutes and grocery runs. Life feels normal — until you remember the real decisions about your future aren’t made here. They’re made over there, by people who may never set foot in your neighborhood but hold the pen that signs your freedoms away. Gerrymandered neighbors, at your service.
For years, you trusted that elected leaders — regardless of party — would show up when it mattered. Lately, it’s painfully obvious they don’t. The recent passage of Assembly Bill 495 proves it.
On paper, AB 495 is the Family Preparedness Plan Act. Sounds wholesome, right? Who wouldn’t want “preparedness” for their family?
In reality, it lets not just relatives but any “nonrelative extended family member” with a “mentoring or familial relationship” sign a Caregiver’s Authorization Affidavit. That gives them the power to enroll your child in school, authorize medical or dental care, and even consent to mental health treatment — no court hearing, no background check, no requirement to tell you.
Picture this: You send your child to a sleepover. By Monday, someone you barely know has legal authority to make decisions for them.
This isn’t a wild “what if.” It’s legal fact under AB 495. Critics call it dangerous. Supporters call it compassionate. Out here, parents call it what it is — a slow-motion pickpocket job on your rights.
And it’s not a one-off. It’s part of a pattern.
California is eroding with every wave of government legislation that hits us. Just like the ocean turns rock into sand, lawmakers grind away at freedoms one bill at a time.
You don’t notice it all at once — just a grain here, a grain there — until one day, there’s nothing left solid under your feet.
The erosion isn’t just about parental authority — it’s also about your wallet. California’s tax burden is among the heaviest in the nation: income tax rates up to 13.3%, sales taxes over 11% in some places, and property reassessments under Proposition 19.
Every year, it’s harder to save, invest, or leave something for your kids — unless you plan to leave them a framed “I Survived California” certificate.
Even in death, California keeps collecting. There’s no official “death tax,” but inherited property is often reassessed at full market value unless your heir moves in — and even then, the caps are designed to bleed you slowly. That means the home you worked decades to pay off can saddle your children with a tax bill so steep they have no choice but to sell.
And if they do sell?
Capital gains taxes are waiting with open arms. Where will that money go? Straight into an ever-growing, deep, dark billion-dollar debt that Sacramento has no intention of stopping.
Your home, your paycheck, your family’s future — they’re all shaped not by the community you know, but by a political machine that sees Santa Clarita as just another dot on the map.
You feel it in your grocery bill, swollen by hidden taxes. You feel it in your paycheck, lighter every month thanks to deductions you never asked for.
You see it when a bill like AB 495 sails through Sacramento without a glance toward the families it will upend. The “other side of the hill” calls it progress. Out here, we call it government with a God complex.
This isn’t about red or blue. It’s about living under rules written by people who don’t know your street, your school, or your struggles. Middle-of-the-road voters — the ones told for decades that California’s “democracy” works for everyone — are waking up.
You’ve been misled into believing higher taxes mean better schools, that bigger government means more safety, and that your leaders have your back. Instead, you have failing schools, more crime, and, of course, endless homelessness.
But here in Santa Clarita, the truth shows in cracked sidewalks and neighbors stretched thin. Every tax dollar taken is one you can’t put toward your mortgage, your child’s college, or your retirement. Every bill that chips away at your rights as a parent makes your own home feel less like yours.
So what’s the future under this leadership? You either pack up and move to a state where you still control your life — or you stay and keep paying, year after year, until you can’t.
The ridge will still stand there, beautiful in the sunset. But as long as the people on the other side decide what happens in your home, that beauty is just a thin cover over something darker.
Santa Clarita is worth fighting for. It’s a place where families still plant roots, where neighbors look out for each other, where community still matters. But it won’t survive on sentiment alone.
It needs people willing to speak up — not just at election time, but every time Sacramento forgets who they serve.
Because the moment you stop paying attention, the other side of the hill will keep writing your story — and one morning, you’ll wake up to find it’s no longer yours.
Patrick Lee Gipson is a Santa Clarita resident and former deputy sheriff. “Right Here, Right Now” appears Saturdays and rotates among local Republicans.
