A little girl licking a spoon after stirring the cake mixture in 1935. ; Credit: Fox Photos/Getty Images

“How in the world am I going to come up with something to make dinner tonight?”

If you’ve found yourself asking this question repeatedly during the pandemic, you’re not alone. Grocery shopping complicated by COVID-19 and shortages of certain staples has meant that many who might not usually consider themselves home chefs have had no choice but to throw an apron on and do some culinary experimentation with whatever they already have in their kitchen and pantry. 

Last month on AirTalk, we tackled this issue by calling up pro chef Noelle Carter and food writer Russ Parson, both of whom are former members of the L.A. Times’ Food team, to answer your questions about how to cook with what you already have, recycle  certain foods, and even make staples that you might not be able to find in abundance right now. If you tuned in last time, you learned how to make your own pasta, how to regrow vegetables like green onions and romaine lettuce, and even what you can use as a substitute for all-purpose flour if you can’t find any at the store.

Today on AirTalk, we’re bringing Noelle and Russ back to help you out in the kitchen! If you’ve got questions about things like making or substituting ingredients, or need some ideas for what to make out of random ingredients in your fridge, join our live conversation by calling 866-893-5722.

Guests:

Noelle Carter, chef, food writer and culinary consultant for Noelle Carter Food, a website sharing recipes, cooking techniques and helpful kitchen tips for the home cook; she is the former director of the Los Angeles Times Test Kitchen; she tweets @noellecarter

Russ Parsons, former food editor and columnist for The Los Angeles Times for more than 20 years; he is the author of two cookbooks: “How To Pick A Peach” and “How To Read A French Fry”; he tweets @Russ_Parsons1

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Uber and Lyft drivers with Rideshare Drivers United and the
 Transport Workers Union of America conduct a ‘caravan protest’ outside the California Labor Commissioner’s office amidst the coronavirus pandemic on April 16, 2020 in Los Angeles, California. ; Credit: Mario Tama/Getty Images

California sued ride-hailing companies Uber and Lyft on Tuesday, alleging they misclassified their drivers as independent contractors under the state’s new labor law.

Attorney General Xavier Becerra and the city attorneys of Los Angeles, San Diego and San Francisco announced the lawsuit Tuesday. The labor law, known as AB5 and considered the nation’s strictest test, took effect Jan. 1 and makes it harder for companies to classify workers as independent contractors instead of employees who are entitled to minimum wage and benefits such as workers compensation.

California represents Uber and Lyft’s largest source of revenue. The companies, as well as Doordash, are funding a ballot initiative campaign to exclude their drivers from the law while giving new benefits such as health care coverage. The initiative is likely to qualify for the November ballot.

We dive into the suit and California’s saga with ride hailing companies. Plus, if you’re a driver, what do you think of Becerra’s claim? Would you prefer to be treated as an employee? And if you’ve been driving for a while, has the pandemic changed your outlook on Uber and Lyft’s treatment of its drivers? Call us at 866-893-5722. 

With files from the Associated Press.

Guests:

Josh Eidelson, labor reporter for Bloomberg News; based in the Bay Area; tweets @josheidelson

Mike Feuer, City Attorney of Los Angeles

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

The temperature of a Bolivian child is measured in front of Bolivian embassy during a demonstration requesting repatriation on April 28, 2020 in Santiago, Chile. ; Credit: Marcelo Hernandez/Getty Images

As of Wednesday afternoon, L.A. County has at least 1,367 deaths and 28,646 confirmed cases of coronavirus. Meanwhile, parts of the state are slowly reopening some industries. 

Certain businesses and recreational spaces in Los Angeles County will be allowed to reopen beginning Friday, county officials announced at a media briefing. Those include hiking trails, golf courses, florists, car dealerships and certain retail stores. School districts continue to work through challenges as they consider how to reopen. Kids and teens are coming down with an inflammatory syndrome that experts believe could be linked to COVID-19, NPR News reports. Today on AirTalk, we get the latest on the pandemic with a noted physician, plus we’ll look at the expanding list of symptoms associated with the coronavirus. Are you a parent who has questions about the virus and kids? We want to hear from you. Join the conversation by calling 866-893-5722. 

With files from LAist

Guest:

Richard Jackson, M.D., pediatrician, epidemiologist and professor emeritus at the UCLA Fielding School of Public Health, he’s served in many leadership positions with the California Health Department, including as the State Health Officer, for nine years he served as director of the CDC’s National Center for Environmental Health

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Two security guards talk on the campus of the closed McKinley School, part of the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) system, in Compton, California, just south of Los Angeles, on April 28, 2020. ; Credit: ROBYN BECK/AFP via Getty Images

With schools still closed amid the coronavirus pandemic, and remote learning continuing for the rest of the school year, the question of when the fall semester might begin (and what it will look like) is looming large for administrators, teachers, parents and students. 

L.A. Unified Superintendent Austin Beutner says no decisions have been made about whether the fall semester — still officially scheduled to start on August 18 — will involve students returning to classrooms or continuing to work remotely. 

What has been decided, as of this week, is that online summer school will be offered to every LAUSD student for the first time ever. It's an alternative to the idea that Governor Gavin Newsom floated last Tuesday, when he said that California schools might start the 2020-21 school year, in person, as early as July, with some physical distancing and safety measures in place.

While the idea of an early start to the school year took many school districts by surprise, Newsom said it was a concern about a "learning loss" that's happened with the switch to online teaching, with some students lacking access to devices and the internet, that led him to propose the idea.

What could reopening look like when it does eventually begin to happen? Ideas include staggered school schedules and alternatives to school activities that are essentially group gatherings — like assemblies, recess, and PE. But before any in-person learning resumes, even in a modified form, Beutner and Newsom say several requirements must be met.

Guests:

Debra Duardo, Los Angeles County Superintendent of Schools; she tweets @DebraDuardo

Karin Michels, epidemiologist; chair and professor of the Department of Epidemiology at UCLA’s Fielding School of Public Health

Paul von Hippel, associate professor of Public Affairs at the University of Texas, Austin; he tweets @PaulvonHippel

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Amoeba Music store, a Hollywood landmark is closed amid the COVID- 19 pandemic, on May 7, 2020, in Hollywood, California. ; Credit: VALERIE MACON/AFP via Getty Images

The City and County of Los Angeles began the process today of reopening some parts of the economy that had been shuttered due to COVID-19. 

Starting today, businesses including book stores, toy stores, sporting goods stores, florists and other “low-risk” retailers will be allowed to reopen for curbside service only. All other shopping will still need to be done over the phone or online. Businesses will also have to have strategies in place for stemming the spread of COVID-19 on site, which will need to include employee training, sanitation protocols and even screening measures. Offices, dine-in restaurants and shopping malls remain closed, as do beauty salons, barbershops, live event venues and other places where people might be in close proximity. Meanwhile, in Orange County, the final stretches of coastline were approved to reopen on Thursday, though they are under the same “active use” rules that the other beaches in OC have implemented in order to prevent people from congregating on beaches and in parking lots.

Today on AirTalk, we’ll talk about the specifics of what is and is not reopening today in L.A. City and County, get an update from the Los Angeles Flower Market in downtown, and find out about the latest on Orange County Beaches.

Guests:

Emily Guerin, reporter for KPCC covering small businesses; she tweets @guerinemily

Lisa Brenner, associate editor at LAist; she tweets @lisa_brenner

Laylan Connelly, beaches reporter for The Orange County Register; she tweets @ocbeaches

Candice Kim, whose parents owns a flower shop in Downtown LA that reopened today.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

A Southern California Edison sign outside the San Onofre Nuclear Plant.; Credit: Grant Slater/KPCC

Large utilities cut off power to millions of Californians over the past two months to reduce the risk that power lines might spark new fires. Nearly 200,000 Southern California Edison customers were blacked out, some for days at a time. These public safety power shutoffs mean that many rural residents lose a lot more than just their electricity. 

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Blowing snow on the Grapevine.; Credit: Photo by FrankBonilla.tv via Flickr Creative Commons

We’ve spent a lot of time recently stressing out about bad weather here in Southern California. It’s been too hot, too dry and too smoky. So, we thought it'd be appropriate on Thanksgiving to give thanks to this latest storm, which should leave you feeling good.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Opah fish are hauled onto a dock for sale last week in San Diego. Fishermen coming home to California after weeks at sea are finding strict anti-coronavirus measures, and nowhere to sell their catch.; Credit: Gregory Bull/AP

Commercial fishermen in the U.S. who have already faced challenges in recent years to make it in an increasingly globalized and regulated industry, are now struggling to find customers during the coronavirus crisis.

"This is totally unprecedented. This is the biggest crisis to hit the fishing industry ever, no question about that," Noah Oppenheim, executive director of The Pacific Coast Federation of Fishermen's Associations told NPR in a phone interview. The federation is a trade association representing commercial fishermen along the West Coast.

On Tuesday, seafood industry leaders, processors and fishermen sent a letter to House and Senate leaders requesting $4 billion in aid for the industry.

The closings of restaurants due to the coronavirus pandemic has hit commercial fishermen particularly hard.

An estimated 50% to 60% of wild seafood caught in the U.S. is exported, says Oppenheim. Those international markets have dried up. He says, of the seafood that's not exported, around 80% of that is sold to restaurants.

"Both of those sectors of the seafood economy are largely nonfunctional at the moment, so we're going to have to make up for approximately 90% of our markets ... through either new supply pipelines or new sets of customers."

Jerid Rold, a fishermen in Moss Landing, Calif., tells NPR, he's been out of work for a month, since South Korea stopped taking imports of hagfish. Further damaging profits, Dungeness crab prices on the West Coast have fallen from up to $7 dollars a pound to $2, says Oppenheim.

In Eureka, Calif., "there are no buyers purchasing products at the harbor there. You can't move the Dungeness crab out of the Humboldt bay," Oppenheim said. "It's actually extraordinary how similar these impacts are playing out across the country. They are palpable, they are profound and they are severe."

On the North Atlantic coast, Sam Rosen, a 30-year-old lobsterman based in Vinalhaven, Maine, said he and others are "selling lobster for amounts they shouldn't be sold for."

That's been close to $2.50 a pound, compared to a usual $10 a pound this time of year, Rosen said.

"It's definitely a shock to the system," Rosen said. "This is uncharted territory right now. I don't think anyone thought it was going to be as bad as it's getting."

If aid isn't provided to fishermen soon, "I think we could see hundreds to thousands of fishermen leave the industry nationwide," Oppenheim said.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Traffic on the Hollywood Freeway in Los Angeles in 2018. The Trump administration is weakening auto pollution standards, rolling back a key Obama-era policy that sought to curb climate change.; Credit: Damian Dovarganes/AP

The Trump administration has finalized its rollback of a major Obama-era climate policy, weakening auto emissions standards in a move it says will mean cheaper cars for consumers.

"By making newer, safer, and cleaner vehicles more accessible for American families, more lives will be saved and more jobs will be created," U.S. Secretary of Transportation Elaine L. Chao said in a statement.

But consumer watchdog organizations, environmental groups and even the Environmental Protection Agency's own scientific advisory board have raised concerns about that rationale, saying the weakened standards will lead to dirtier air and cost consumers at the gas pump long-term.

Environmental Protection Agency administrator Andrew Wheeler called the new rule a move to "correct" greenhouse gas emissions standards that were costly for automakers to comply with.

"Our final rule...strikes the right regulatory balance that protects our environment, and sets reasonable targets for the auto industry," Wheeler said in a statement.

The Safer Affordable Fuel-Efficient (SAFE) Vehicles Rule will toughen carbon dioxide emissions standards by 1.5% a year through model year 2026, compared to about 5% a year under the Obama policy.

The Trump administration originally proposed freezing the standards altogether without any increase. It modified the rule after push back from not only environmental groups but also some automakers, who worried they will be out of step in a global marketplace increasingly geared toward lower emission cars and trucks.

Still, critics say the new rule will lead to nearly a billion additional metric tons of climate warming CO2 in the atmosphere, and that consumers will end up losing money by buying about 80 billion more gallons of gas.

"This rule will lead to dirtier air at a time when our country is working around the clock to respond to a respiratory pandemic whose effects may be exacerbated by air pollution," said U.S. Senator Tom Carper (D-Del.) in a statement. He's the top Democrat on the Senate Environment and Public Works Committee.

The Trump administration asserts the new rule will save lives because Americans will buy newer, safer vehicles. But Carper points out that its own analysis finds there would be even more premature deaths from increased air pollution.

For that reason and others, the new standards are sure to face legal challenges. In fact, even the Trump administration's own science advisers have said "there are significant weaknesses in the scientific analysis of the proposed rule."

"The rollback of the vehicle emissions standards is based on analysis that is shoddy even by the shockingly unprofessional standards of Trump-era deregulation," said Richard Revesz of the Institute for Policy Integrity and Dean Emeritus at New York University School of Law.

California and other states are also likely to file suit against the rule. They've asserted their long-standing right to set their own, stricter emissions standards, something the Trump administration has also challenged.

A worst case scenario for automakers would be different standards in different states. The new policy may ultimately be decided by the U.S. Supreme Court, but the uncertainty waiting for that would exact its own toll on an industry that must plan years ahead.

Thomas Pyle, President of the American Energy Alliance, welcomed the new standards. In a statement, he said the Obama-era mandate was "impossible to achieve without dramatically altering the automobile market or making the cost of vehicles out of reach for most American families. This new... rule will make cars more affordable for consumers at a time when they need it most."

The Trump administration has been pushing ahead with a number of environmental rollbacks, aiming to finalize them well ahead of November's election. That would make it harder for a Democratic president, if one were elected, to reverse them again.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Two judges appointed by President Trump to the District of Columbia Circuit Court of Appeals prevailed Tuesday in a ruling that clears the way for the executions of four inmates.

The only dissenter in the 3-2 ruling was Judge David Tatel, an appointee of former President Bill Clinton. The judges were reviewing a lower court's injunction that had blocked the scheduled executions.

The decision was seen as a win for Trump's Justice Department, which issued new guidelines last July that would have allowed the federal government to carry out its first executions in 16 years.

The fates of the four men remain unresolved because their death sentences were sent back to the lower court for further proceedings.

In December, the U.S. Supreme Court declined the Justice Department's request to vacate the lower court's injunction that scuttled the planned executions.

At issue is the question of whether the condemned men should be put to death by the injection of only one barbiturate — pentobarbital — as called for in the Justice Department's July 2019 memo.

Many of the 28 states where the death penalty is still legal require a lethal injection cocktail containing not one but three barbiturates. Those states include Indiana, where the scheduled executions were to take place.

Pharmaceutical companies have stopped producing at least one of the three drugs used in that lethal mixture, and several botched executions have resulted from some states using untested formulas.

The 1994 Federal Death Penalty Act calls for executions to be carried out "in the manner prescribed by the law of the State in which the sentence is imposed."

Judge Gregory Katsas argues in his majority opinion that the "manner prescribed" simply refers to the method of execution rather than the protocols each state follows in carrying out each kind of execution.

"The government says that 'manner' here means 'method'," Katsas writes, "such that the FDPA regulates only the top-line choice among execution methods such as hanging, electrocution, or lethal injection. In my view, the government is correct."

Judge Neomi Rao, in a concurring opinion, argues that while the word "manner" refers not only to the method of execution, it cannot be interpreted in isolation. "It is a broad, flexible term," she says, "whose specificity depends on context."

In his dissent, Tatel says the best understanding of the 1994 statute is that it "requires federal executions to be carried out using the same procedures that states use to execute their own prisoners.

"Had Congress intended to authorize the Attorney General to adopt a uniform execution protocol," Tatel argues, "it knew exactly how to do so."

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

; Credit: J. Scott Applewhite/AP

What does the right to a unanimous jury verdict have to do with abortion, or school prayer, or federal environmental regulations? Stay tuned.

The U.S. Supreme Court Monday struck down state laws in Louisiana and Oregon that allowed people accused of serious crimes to be convicted by a non-unanimous jury vote. The 6-to-3 decision overturned a longstanding prior ruling from 1972, which had upheld such non-unanimous verdicts in state courts.

And these days, any decision to overturn a longstanding precedent rings the alarm bells in the Supreme Court.

In the short run, Monday's decision was a victory for Evangelisto Ramos, who in 2016 was convicted of second-degree murder by a jury vote of 10-to-2 in Louisiana.

Only two states--Louisiana and Oregon--had provisions allowing non-unanimous verdicts, and Louisiana just recently changed its law to be like those in 48 other states and the federal government.

Justice Neil Gorsuch, writing for the majority, laid out the history behind the laws in both states. Gorsuch noted that the measure was first added to the Louisiana state constitution in 1898, after the Supreme Court ruled that racial minorities could not be barred from juries; that same year, Louisiana added the non-unanimous jury provision to its state constitution as part of a package of amendments that deliberately made it difficult for black citizens to vote or otherwise participate meaningfully in the state's governance. Specifically, Gorsuch said, the non-unanimous jury provision was a way to ensure that even if one or two African Americans made it on to a jury, their participation would be "meaningless."

The adoption of the non-unanimous jury rule in Oregon, Gorsuch wrote, "can similarly be traced to the rise of the Ku Klux Klan and efforts to dilute the influence of racial and ethnic and religious minorities on Oregon juries."

Despite these state provisions, there has never been any dispute that the unanimous jury requirement applies to the federal government. The question in this case was whether that aspect of the Sixth Amendment right to a jury trial applied to the states as well.

Over the last 75 years or so, the court has applied just about every other provision of the Bill of Rights to the states, but in 1972 it deviated from that practice, declining to apply the unanimous jury requirement in a similar fashion.

On Monday, however, the 1972 decision came tumbling down. The six-justice court majority — composed of conservatives and liberals — said the earlier ruling was a mistake.

The decision, written by the conservative Gorsuch, was joined in whole or in part by liberal Justices Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Stephen Breyer, Sonia Sotomayor, and conservative Justice Brett Kavanaugh. Justice Clarence Thomas, another conservative, agreed with the result, but on entirely different grounds.

Writing for the dissenters, Justice Samuel Alito — joined by Chief Justice John Roberts and for the most part, Justice Elena Kagan — maintained that the principle of adhering to precedent should be followed in this case because to do otherwise would require "a potentially crushing" number of new trials for people currently imprisoned under the old rule.

"Where is the justice in that?" replied Justice Gorsuch. "Not a single member of this court" is prepared to say that the 1972 decision was correct, he noted. "Every judge must learn to live with the fact that he or she will make mistakes ... But it is something else entirely to perpetuate" a wrong "only because we fear the consequences of being right."

The consequences of Monday's decision will likely be felt more in Louisiana, which allowed non-unanimous verdicts for more serious crimes than Oregon. The court's decision will require retrials for any prisoner who still has appeals pending.

There are about 100 of those cases in Louisiana, says Jamila Johnson, the managing attorney at the Promise of Justice Initiative, which represented Ramos. But there are also at least 1,700 prisoners in the state who might qualify for a new trial if the court eventually holds that Monday's decision is retroactive.

The high court left that question open for another day.

Altogether the majority, concurring, and dissenting opinions totaled a whopping 86 pages and reflected an important subtext--divergent views about when the court should follow its usual rule of adhering to precedent and when it should not.

It's important because, the new ultra-conservative court majority has very different views than the courts of the last 75 years on topics as diverse as abortion, voting rights, federal regulation, and the clash between religious views and generally applicable laws.

"The court's views about when it's OK to overrule prior precedent have always been more about the eye of the beholder than they have been about a rule that is easy or straightforward to apply," says Deborah Pearlstein, professor and co-director of the Floersheimer Center for Constitutional Democracy at Cardozo School of Law. Ultimately, she said, "all of these major questions that are coming before the court are going to be fought along these lines."

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Attorney General William Barris pictured at a coronavirus task force meeting at the White House on March 23. The Justice Department is looking to crack down on coronavirus-related fraud.; Credit: Alex Brandon/AP

The coronavirus pandemic has brought out the good side of many Americans, but certainly not all Americans. Officials say that fraud related to COVID-19 — like hoarding equipment, price gouging and hawking fake treatments — are spreading as the country wrestles with the outbreak.

"It's a perfect ecosystem for somebody like a fraudster to operate in," said Craig Carpenito, the U.S. attorney for New Jersey and the head of the Justice Department's COVID-19 price gouging and hoarding task force.

"People want to believe that there's a magic pill that they can take or that if they buy a certain kind of mask or a certain kind of protective gear that it's going to protect them and their families," he said. "That creates opportunities for the types of people that prey upon scared people. They prey upon their fear."

A month ago, Attorney General William Barr instructed federal prosecutors around the country to aggressively investigate and prosecute scams and other crimes related to the COVID-19 pandemic. He also created the price gouging and hoarding task force and put Carpenito in charge of it.

From that perch, Carpenito has one of the best views of virus-related crime nationwide.

"Instead of seeing that tremendous support from all aspects of society, we're still seeing that sliver, that that dark underbelly, that small percentage of folks who instead of putting the interests of the country and support for those medical professionals that are putting themselves at risk in the forefront, they're finding ways to try and take advantage of this situation and illegally profiteer from it," he said. "And it's despicable."

The most prevalent kind of fraud that federal authorities are seeing at this point, he and others say, is tied to personal protective equipment like N95 masks, gloves or face shields.

In one notable case, prosecutors brought charges against a Georgia man, Christopher Parris, for allegedly trying to sell $750 million worth of masks and other protective equipment to the Department of Veterans Affairs but with a sizable advance payment.

The problem, prosecutors say, is the masks and other items didn't exist, at least not in the quantities Parris was offering.

Steven Merrill, the head of the FBI's financial crimes section, says the bureau refers to these sorts of operations as advance-fee schemes.

"We're getting many complaints that different entities are entering into these agreements, paying money upfront, sometimes hundreds of millions of dollars, and may or may not get any masks or other PPE ordered at all," Merrill said. "So our guidance to the public is to please be wary of these frauds and solicitations."

Other problems, such as hoarding and price gouging, can arise even when the medical gear does exist.

The FBI is trying to identify individuals who are stockpiling protective equipment and trying to sell it at exorbitant markups, sometimes 40 to 70 times the value, Merrill said.

A few weeks ago, the FBI seized nearly 1 million respirator masks, gloves and other medical gear from a Brooklyn man who was allegedly stockpiling them and selling them to nurses and doctors at what officials say was around a 700% markup.

The man, Baruch Feldheim, has been charged with lying to the FBI about price gouging. He's also been charged with allegedly assaulting a federal officer after he coughed on agents and claimed he had COVID-19.

The confiscated items, meanwhile, have been distributed to medical workers in the New York area.

Carpenito said the Justice Department has more than 100 investigations open into price gouging. It has hundreds more, he said, into other crimes tied to the pandemic, including fake treatments and cures.

In one case out of California, prosecutors charged a man who was allegedly soliciting large investments for what he claimed was a cure for COVID-19.

"He was doing so by broadcasting this scheme via, notably, YouTube, where had thousands of hits and views," Merrill said.

In a separate case out of Florida last week, the Justice Department got a court order to stop a Florida church from selling on its website an industrial bleach that was being marketed as a miracle treatment for the virus.

To be clear, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says there is no cure at this point for the virus.

More than a month into this crisis, there's no sense COVID-related crime is going to slow down.

In fact, Carpenito and Merrill say that with the massive $2 trillion economic relief package beginning to be doled out, they expect to see even more fraud in the weeks and months ahead.

"What we're worried about is that not only do we have these existing conditions, but we are awaiting — like everybody in the country — the arrival of $2 trillion to hit the streets," Merrill said. "And anytime there's that much money out there, you can just multiply the amount of frauds that are going to take place. So we're preparing for many more complaints to come in and new schemes to arrive on a daily basis."

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

The U.S. Supreme Court, in an 8-1 ruling, said the federal government must pay health insurers $12 billion under a provision of the Affordable Care Act.; Credit: Patrick Semansky/AP

The U.S. Supreme Court has told the federal government that it has to pay $12 billion to insurance companies, money that was promised in the Affordable Care Act as part of the start-up costs of Obamacare in the first three years of its existence.

The law, as enacted, promised to limit profits and losses for insurance companies in the first three years of the Obamacare program. Some companies made more money than allowed by the formula, and had to pay some back to the government, and other companies lost money and were owed money by the government under the formula.

But in 2014, the first year that the ACA's plan was in place, the Republican-controlled Congress reneged on the promise to appropriate money for the companies that had lost money. It did the same for the next two years as well, adding to appropriation bills a rider that barred the government from fulfilling the promise in the statute. After President Trump was elected, his administration supported the GOP-led refusal to pay.

The insurance companies sued, and on Monday the Supreme Court ruled that the federal government has to pay up.

The vote was 8-to-1, with Justice Sonia Sotomayor writing for the majority that the decision reflects a principle "as old as the nation itself. The government should honor its obligations."

She noted that the language of the ACA was "rare" in that it permitted lawsuits to enforce the provisions at issue here, provisions that declare the government"shall pay" the losses suffered by insurance companies that participated over the first three years.

The lone dissenter was Justice Samuel Alito, who called the decision "a massive bailout" for the insurance industry, which "took a calculated risk and lost."

Monday's decision was the third involving Obamacare at the Supreme Court. Conservative groups, and now the Trump administration, have consistently sought to invalidate or undermine the law — so far, with limited or no success. But next year, the Supreme Court is scheduled to consider once again whether the law is unconstitutional.

Despite repeated efforts by Republicans in Congress and the Trump administration to either undermine or entirely do away with the program, Obamacare has remained popular, likely because it has enabled millions of Americans, including those with pre-existing conditions, to obtain medical insurance and medical coverage for the first time.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Nuns with the Little Sisters of The Poor, including Sister Celestine, left, and Sister Jeanne Veronique, center, rally outside the Supreme Court in Washington on March 23, 2016.; Credit: Jacquelyn Martin/AP

The birth-control wars return to the Supreme Court Wednesday, and it is likely that the five-justice conservative majority will make it more difficult for women to get birth control if they work for religiously affiliated institutions like hospitals, charities and universities.

At issue in the case is a Trump administration rule that significantly cuts back on access to birth control under the Affordable Care Act. Obamacare, the massive overhaul of the health care system, sought to equalize preventive health care coverage for women and men by requiring employers to include free birth control in their health care plans.

Listen to the arguments live beginning at 10 a.m. ET.

Houses of worship like churches and synagogues were automatically exempted from the provision, but religiously affiliated nonprofits like universities, charities and hospitals were not. Such organizations employ millions of people, many of whom want access to birth control for themselves and their family members. But many of these institutions say they have a religious objection to providing birth control for employees.

For these nonprofits, the Obama administration enacted rules providing a work-around to accommodate employers' religious objections. The workaround was that an employer was to notify the government, or the insurance company, or the plan administrator, that, for religious reasons, it would not be providing birth-control coverage to its employees. Then, the insurance company could provide free birth-control options to individual employees separately from the employer's plan.

But some religiously affiliated groups still objected, saying the work-around was not good enough, and sued. They contended that signing an opt-out form amounted to authorizing the use of their plan for birth control. Among those objectors was the Little Sisters of the Poor, an order of Catholic nuns that runs homes for the elderly poor.

The Supreme Court punted in 2016

The Little Sisters sued, and their case first reached the Supreme Court in 2016. At the time, Sister Constance Viet explained why she refused to sign any opt-out form, saying that "the religious burden is what that signifies and the fact that the government would ... be inserting services that we object into our plan. And it would still carry our name."

Back then, when the Little Sisters' case got to the Supreme Court, the justices basically punted, telling the government and the sisters to work together to try to reach a compromise that would still provide "seamless birth control" coverage for employees who want it, without burdening the Sisters' religious beliefs. Although the Little Sisters did eventually get relief from the lower courts, the fight over the accommodations rules continued right up to the end of the Obama administration.

But when President Trump came into office, the administration issued new rules that would give broad exemptions to nonprofits and some for-profit companies that have objections to providing birth-control coverage for their employees. And the new rules expanded the category of employers who would be exempt from the birth-control mandate to include not just those with religious objections, but those with moral objections, too.

New rules

Those new rules, currently blocked by lower courts, are what is at issue Wednesday in the Supreme Court.

"Many states are suing and none of them can find a single actual woman who claims she's been harmed," says Mark Reinezi, president of the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty, which is defending the Trump rules against challenges brought by Pennsylvania and other states.

And, he adds, "there are many other ways to provide contraceptive coverage to people if they happen to work for religious objectors."

Rienzi says that employees who work for birth-control objectors can get coverage from their spouse's insurance plan, or by switching to a different insurance plan on an Obamacare exchange. And he says that birth control is also available under a program known as Title X, which gives money to state and local governments to provide health care for women.

But Brigitte Amiri, the deputy director the of ACLU's Reproductive Freedom project, says the idea that Title X could make up for the lost coverage is "a joke." Amiri notes that the Title X program has been underfunded for years, and the Trump administration has issued new regulations that in her words "decimated the program."

According to Amiri, "the Trump administration and Vice President [Mike] Pence have long wanted to ... take away coverage for contraception. They want to block access to birth control. They want to block access to abortion ... so this is all part and parcel of the overall attack on access to reproductive health care."

Potential consequences

She maintains that if the expanded Trump rules are upheld for religious objectors, hundreds of thousands of women across the country will lose their contraceptive coverage. Ultimately, Amiri says, there just is no way to maintain birth-control coverage for employees who work for religiously affiliated institutions unless that employer, as she puts it, is willing to "raise their hand" to opt out.

A break in birth-control coverage that big could have serious consequences, say say birth-control advocates. They note that the National Academy of Medicine, a health policy nonprofit, recommended the original rules because birth control is prescribed not just to avoid pregnancy but also to treat various female medical conditions. In fact, it is the most frequently taken drug for women ages 15-60. And it is expensive, $30 a month and more for pills, and as much as $1,000 for buying and having an IUD inserted.

Birth-control advocates say that's the very reason that a broad requirement to cover birth control in insurance was included in Obamacare. They say the new Trump rule improperly undermines that mandate.

But selling that argument to the Supreme Court will be hard. When the court last considered this issue in 2016, its makeup was far less conservative than it is now. Since then, two Trump appointees have been added to the court. And both of those appointees — Neil Gorsuch and Brett Kavanaugh — have already indicated strong support for the notion that religious rights may often trump other rights.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

The Supreme Court justices heard oral arguments remotely this week, and for the first time the arguments were streamed live to the public.; Credit: Saul Loeb/AFP via Getty Images

For the first time in its 231-year history, the Supreme Court justices heard oral arguments remotely by phone and made the audio available live.

The new setup went off largely without difficulties, but produced some memorable moments, including one justice forgetting to unmute and an ill-timed bathroom break.

Here are the top five can't-miss moments from this week's history-making oral arguments.

A second week of arguments begin on Monday at 10 a.m. ET. Here's a rundown of the cases and how to listen.

1. Justice Clarence Thomas speaks ... a lot

Supreme Court oral arguments are verbal jousting matches. The justices pepper the lawyers with questions, interrupting counsel repeatedly and sometimes even interrupting each other.

Justice Clarence Thomas, who has sat on the bench for nearly 30 years, has made his dislike of the chaotic process well known, at one point not asking a question for a full decade.

But with no line of sight, the telephone arguments have to be rigidly organized, and each justice, in order of seniority, has an allotted 2 minutes for questioning.

It turn out that Thomas, second in seniority, may just have been waiting his turn. Rather than passing, as had been expected, he has been Mr. Chatty Cathy, using every one of his turns at bat so far.

Thomas broke a year-long silence on Monday in a trademark case testing whether a company can trademark by adding .com to a generic term. In this case, Booking.com.

"Could Booking acquire an 800 number, for example, that's a vanity number — 1-800-BOOKING, for example?" Thomas asked.

2. The unstoppable RBG

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg participated in Wednesday's argument from the hospital. In pain during Tuesday's arguments, the 87-year-old underwent non-surgical treatment for a gall bladder infection at Johns Hopkins Hospital later that day, according to a Supreme Court press release.

But she was ferocious on Wednesday morning, calling in from her hospital room in a case testing the Trump administration's new rule expanding exemptions from Obamacare's birth control mandate for nonprofits and some for-profit companies that have religious or moral objections to birth control.

"The glaring feature" of the Trump administration's new rules, is that they "toss to the winds entirely Congress' instruction that women need and shall have seamless, no-cost, comprehensive coverage," she said.

3. Who flushed?

During Wednesday's second oral argument, Barr v. American Association of Political Consultants, a case in which the justices weighed a First Amendment challenge to a federal rule than bans most robocalls, something very unexpected happened.

Partway through lawyer Roman Martinez's argument time, a toilet flush could be distinctly heard.

Martinez seemed unperturbed and continued speaking in spite of the awkward moment.

The flush quickly picked up steam online, becoming the first truly viral moment from the court's new livestream oral arguments.

4. Hello, where are you?

Justice Sonia Sotomayor, considered one of the most tech-savvy of the justices, experienced a couple of technical difficulties with her mute button.

In both Monday and Tuesday arguments, the first time she was at bat, there were prolonged pauses, prompting Chief Justice John Roberts to call, "Justice Sotomayor?" a few times before she hopped on with a brief, "Sorry, Chief," before launching into her questions.

By Wednesday she seemed to have gotten used to the new format, but the trouble then jumped to Thomas, who was entirely missing in action when his turn came. He ultimately went out of order Wednesday morning.

5. Running over time

Oral arguments usually run one hour almost exactly, with lawyers for each side having 30 minutes to make their case. In an attempt to stick as closely as possible to that format, the telephone rules allocate 2 minutes of questioning to each justice for each round of questioning.

Chief Justice John Roberts spent the week jumping into exchanges, cutting off both lawyers and justices in the process, to keep the proceedings on track. Even so the arguments ran longer than usual.

But in Wednesday's birth control case, oral arguments went a whopping 40 minutes longer than expected.

Justice Alito, for his part, hammered the lawyer challenging the Trump administration's new birth control rules for more than seven minutes, without interruption from the chief justice.

Referencing a decision he wrote in 2014, Alito said that "Hobby Lobby held that if a person sincerely believes that it is immoral to perform an act that has the effect of enabling another person to commit an immoral act, the federal court does not have the right to say that this person is wrong on the question of moral complicity. That is precisely the question here."

Christina Peck is NPR's legal affairs intern.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Julio Osorio stands in the Valhalla Memorial Park Cemetery near his mother's grave. (Emily Elena Dugdale/KPCC); Credit: Emily Elena Dugdale

The devastating Woolsey fire broke out one year ago. In Malibu, it wreaked havoc not only on hundreds of homeowners but also on the day laborers, housekeepers and gardeners who traveled to the city to work in its affluent neighborhoods.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

The L.A. Philharmonic will be the new operator of the John Anson Ford Theatre, the smaller outdoor venue near  the 101 Freeway across from the Hollywood Bowl, under a plan approved by the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors.  

L.A.  funding sustains the Ford, and the county recently spent $80 million renovating the 1,200  seat amphitheater.  But attendance has been lackluster — and Supervisor Sheila Kuehl hopes the L.A. Philharmonic can change that. 

“The Ford will be able to take advantage of the natural synergies in marketing, capacity-building and program resources that simply haven’t been available to the Ford as an independent institution," she  said.

The move by the L.A. County  blindsided many local artists.  They say the Ford is an important incubator for diverse talent.  They also worry ticket prices will increase.  Prompted by their criticism, the Supervisors will require the Phil to meet with artists and annually review the diversity of the Ford’s shows with county officials.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Embattled Korean Resource Center board president DJ Yoon takes interviews in a photo dated February 2014. ( ; Credit: Korean Resource Center via Flickr

In Los Angeles, another Asian American civil rights organization is in upheaval. A month after major layoffs at Asian Americans Advancing Justice-Los Angeles, the Korean Resource Center has lost more than half of its staff.  

The Korean Resource Center  is a leading advocate for low-income and undocumented Koreans. Its organizers worked on flipping Orange County from red to blue. Its legal staff provides free aid to immigrants. But 18 people have left in recent weeks, many upset with board president DJ Yoon and his management style. 

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

In L.A., community leaders are working to prevent an undercount of Asian Angelenos. ; Credit: via NPR

The 2020 Census kicks off in a matter of weeks. Census officials say Asian immigrants are “hard-to-count” because many have limited English and distrust government. 

Leo Moon is learning about the census with friends at a city-led workshop in Koreatown. He didn’t fill out the form in 2010, mostly because he didn’t want the government knowing he’s undocumented. But Moon says he’ll take part next year because the census determines how much funding and representation people get.  

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Mike Okamoto poses as Shogun Santa with visitors to Japanese Village. ; Credit: Chava Sanchez/KPCC

LA’s Asian Santa tradition is back. Shogun Santa has returned to Little Tokyo after a big loss in the community last year.  

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

The Asian Garden Mall in Westminster, where voters will make a choice about whether to recall city leaders.; Credit: Dorian Merina/KPCC

Voters in Westminster will decide this spring whether to recall its mayor and two city councilmembers. The Orange County Registrar of Voters has signed off on petitions for a recall election.  

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

A spike in texts and calls to crisis hotlines reflects Americans' growing anxiety about the coronavirus and its impact on their lives.; Credit: Richard Bailey/Getty Images

Normally, Laura Mayer helps the most acutely suicidal callers find the nearest hospital emergency room. But in a pandemic, that has become a crisis counselor's advice of last resort.

"It's a difficult decision because we do know that by sending them into an overburdened health care system, they may or may not get the treatment that they need," says Mayer, who is director of PRS CrisisLink in Oakton, Va., which also takes calls for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. "The resources may or may not be there, and we're exposing them to the illness."

So instead, counselors are devoting more time to each caller, offering ad hoc therapy and coaxing them to talk through their pain. These days, that pain often has many sources: lost jobs, severed relationships and sick family.

"The type of call and the seriousness of the call is very different this year than it was in previous years," Mayer says. "There's environmental issues, internal issues, family issues. ... It's never one thing."

America's crisis centers and hotlines are themselves in crisis. As people grapple with fear, loneliness and grief, on a grand scale, those stresses are showing up at crisis hotlines. Not only are the needs greater, but their clients' problems are more acute and complex and offer a window into the emotional struggles Americans face.

Across the board, hotlines of all kinds are reporting increases in volume.

The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration saw a fivefold increase at its National Helpline in March. The Crisis Text Line says its volumes are up 40% in the pandemic, to about 100,000 conversations a month.

Volunteer counselors and good Samaritans are responding by lining up to help.

But Mayer says the heaviness takes its toll. Those offering this kind of support end up needing support themselves.

"This illness is starting to impact each of our crisis workers and counselors themselves personally," she says. "So everyone is kind of a client right now, and that's been really challenging."

Nancy Lublin, CEO and co-founder of the Crisis Text Line, says she is bracing for sustained need. "This echo of the physical virus, the mental health echo, we fear it's going to last a very long time and that the intensity will remain," she says.

Over the last two months, the focal point of the emotional pain has shifted, she says. Initially, the spike in traffic was over anxiety about the virus itself. That shifted to complaints of isolation. Now, texters talk of depression and grief.

"So we've doubled the number of conversations that are about grief, and there the top two words that we see are 'grandma' and 'grandpa,' " she says.

And it's no longer just young people texting. Adults are complaining of loneliness, sexual abuse and eating disorders.

"As the quarantines go on and continue, we're seeing it's the people over the age of 35 who are increasing at a higher percentage of our volume," Lublin says. "For the first time, we're seeing people over the age of 60 texting us."

Texting is an ideal medium, she says, for those stuck at home with no personal space: "You don't have to find a quiet space where no one else can hear you."

And for some, that might be the only form of escape. The text line has seen a 74% increase in references to domestic violence. "We see words like 'trapped' [and] 'hurt,' " says Lublin.

Many shelters have shut down, and some of those in-person centers, including the Salvation Army in Philadelphia, now rely on their own hotlines instead.

Arielle Curry, director of the Salvation Army's anti-human trafficking program, says many of her clients can't afford cell phones and have lost touch; those who remain in contact are in dire straits, searching for a shorter supply of money or drugs, and are often suicidal. Curry says addressing those acute emotional needs by phone is frustrating; sometimes she doesn't even know where they are and can't send help to intervene.

"You can't ... comfort someone and look them in their eyes and support them face-to-face," she says. That makes it hard, Curry says, not to feel helpless and hopeless herself.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

As millions of Americans have lost their jobs, Congress is trying to figure out what to do to help those who have also lost their health insurance.; Credit: South_agency/Getty Images

Mayra Jimenez had just lost the job she loved — and the health insurance that went along with it.

The 35-year-old San Francisco server needed coverage. Jimenez has ulcerative colitis, a chronic condition. Just one of her medications costs $18,000 per year.

"I was just in panic mode, scrambling to get coverage," Jimenez said.

A recent estimate suggests the pandemic has cost more than 9 million Americans both their jobs and their health insurance.

"Those numbers are just going to go up," MIT economist Jon Gruber said. "We've never seen such a dramatic increase in such a short period of time."

House Democrats introduced a bill in mid-April to help the millions of people, like Jimenez, who find themselves unsure of where to turn.

The Worker Health Coverage Protection Act would fully fund the cost of COBRA, a program that allows workers who leave or lose a job to stay on their former employer's insurance plan. COBRA currently requires workers to pay for their entire premium, including their employer's share.

The Worker Health Coverage Protection Act is one bill being considered as Congress tries to figure out what to do about the very real health care gap for those millions who have lost their jobs. Sponsors of the COBRA legislation say they hope their plan gets rolled into the next relief bill. But it's unclear when, how and whether the problem will get addressed in upcoming coronavirus relief measures.

Jimenez learned COBRA would run her $426 a month.

"I was kind of shocked to hear the number," she said. "That's almost half my rent."

The idea of allowing laid-off workers to stick with their coverage at no cost in a pandemic has clear appeal, says Gruber.

But he warns, "COBRA is expensive, and for many employees, it won't be there."

Only workers who get insurance through their employer are eligible for COBRA, leaving out more than half of the 26 million who have lost jobs in the last few weeks. Many of the industries hit hardest by COVID-19, including retail and hospitality, are among those least likely to offer employees insurance.

And even if someone had insurance through work, the person loses COBRA coverage if the former employer goes out of business.

Funding COBRA costs, federal dollars also wouldn't go as far as they could. Unpublished Urban Institute estimates show that an employer plan costs, on average, about 25% more than a Gold plan on the Affordable Care Act exchanges.

"We need to be all hands on deck, spending whatever we can to help people," Gruber said. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't be thinking about efficient ways to do it."

Congress has tried this move before. In response to the Great Recession, lawmakers tucked a similar COBRA subsidy into the massive stimulus bill a decade ago. That legislation paid for 65% of COBRA premiums, leaving laid-off workers to cover the rest.

A federally commissioned study found that COBRA enrollment increased by just 15%. Mathematica senior researcher and study co-author Jill Berk said workers skipped the subsidy for two main reasons.

First, only about 30% of eligible workers even knew the subsidy existed.

"For those that were aware," Berk said, "their overwhelming response was that COBRA was still too expensive."

At that time, the average premium for a single worker — even with the subsidy — ran about $400 per month for a worker with family coverage.

"When you're actually facing those choices, choosing between rent and food and other bills," Berk said, "that COBRA bill looks quite high."

Berk's team also discovered that people who reported using the subsidy were four times more likely to have a college degree and a higher income than those who passed on it. In other words, Berk found that the COBRA subsidy was least helpful to those with the greatest need.

Several economists, including Gruber, and some Democrats in Washington are kicking around alternatives to COBRA. Among their ideas is a plan to have the federal government pick up more of a person's premium and other expenses on the Affordable Care Act exchanges. Another proposal would extend ACA subsidies to people who earn too much to qualify for any aid and to lower-income people who live in states yet to expand Medicaid.

Compared with funding COBRA, beefing up ACA subsidies could potentially help millions more people, including the pool of laid-off workers who did not get health insurance from their employer.

The ACA ties subsidies to people's income, giving more help to those at the bottom end of the wage scale and spending less on those who are better off. In contrast, the current COBRA plan would cover 100% of COBRA for everyone, regardless of the person's income.

There are some downsides to this approach. Making ACA subsidies more generous could end up costing the federal government more overall, because it gives more help to a lot more people.

Chris Holt from the American Action Forum, a conservative think tank, points out that the ACA already increases federal support when people's earnings fall and questions how much more of the tab Washington should pick up.

"If that subsidy would have been good enough for someone six months ago, why is it not good enough now?" he asked.

Maybe the biggest challenge to building on the ACA: The 10-year-old law remains a political football.

"There's just so much both emotion and, frankly, bitterness tied up in debates," Holt said, adding that this makes it hard to move anything forward.

Holt notes that COBRA is not free of political hang-ups either. He expects a fight over whether subsidy money can be spent on employer plans that cover abortion services, for example.

Holt and Gruber agree that perhaps the easiest idea is to leave the ACA alone with one minor tweak: allow people to take the ACA subsidy they're already eligible for and use it on COBRA if they choose.

As for Jimenez, she did not have time to wait for Congress. She brought in too much from unemployment to qualify for Medicaid. And she couldn't afford COBRA, so she picked out a plan on the ACA exchange, where she's eligible for generous existing subsidies. It will cost her $79.17 per month, and she gets to keep her doctors. Not everyone does.

This is the first time she has ever purchased insurance on her own, rather than gotten it through work — and that has delivered one other unexpected benefit.

"Freedom," Jimenez said. "It feels so freeing to take charge of my health care and to know that no one can take this away from me. I don't have to rely on a job to give me what they want to give me. I can make my own choices."

Policymakers, providers, employers and health-industry executives have been fighting over whether the United States should tie insurance to work since the end of World War II.

Subsidizing COBRA preserves the status quo, while doubling down on the ACA might just start to drive a real wedge between work and health insurance.

As states begin reopening businesses, some laid-off workers will get back their jobs, as well as their insurance. But many will remain unemployed and uninsured. A decade ago, faced with the same challenge, Congress chose to subsidize COBRA. It proved to be a narrow solution with limited impact.

Lawmakers now have the ACA at their disposal, a tool that may be a better fit for this moment. Whether they choose to use it may be a choice grounded more in political realism than policy idealism.

Dan Gorenstein is the creator and co-host of the Tradeoffs podcast, and Leslie Walker is a producer on the show, which ran a version of this story on April 23.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Rick Bright, former director of the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, is seen here in 2018.; Credit: Toya Sarno Jordan/Bloomberg via Getty Images

Updated at 6:14 p.m. ET

The federal scientist who was ousted from his role as director of the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority has filed a whistleblower complaint with the U.S. Office of Special Counsel.

Rick Bright was a high-ranking federal scientist focused on vaccine development and a deputy assistant secretary with the Department of Health and Human Services. Last month, Bright said he was transferred to a "less impactful position" at the National Institutes of Health after he was reluctant to promote the use of drugs such as hydroxychloroquine to treat COVID-19 patients.

In the complaint, Bright alleges a range of government wrongdoing by Dr. Robert Kadlec, the assistant secretary of preparedness and response at the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services, and others. Bright's boss was Kadlec, who in turn reported to HHS Secretary Alex Azar.

At the time of his removal, Bright said he had been ousted because of his "insistence" that the government spend funds on "safe and scientifically vetted solutions" to address the coronavirus crisis and not on "drugs, vaccines and other technologies that lack scientific merit."

Bright says in the complaint that he raised concerns about the need to prepare for the coronavirus in January but encountered opposition from Trump administration officials. He says he was transferred out of BARDA in retaliation.

According to the complaint, relations between Bright and Kadlec had been strained since 2018 or so, when Bright began "raising repeated objections to the outsized role Dr. Kadlec allowed industry consultants to play in securing contracts that Dr. Bright and other scientists and subject matter experts determined were not meritorious."

"Once the COVID-19 pandemic hit, however, Dr. Bright became even more alarmed about the pressure that Dr. Kadlec and other government officials were exerting on BARDA to invest in drugs, vaccines, and other technologies without proper scientific vetting or that lacked scientific merit," the complaint continues. "Dr. Bright objected to these efforts and made clear that BARDA would only invest the billions of dollars allocated by Congress to address the COVID-19 pandemic in safe and scientifically vetted solutions and it would not succumb to the pressure of politics or cronyism."

The complaint alleges that Bright made repeated efforts to get the U.S. government to make adequate preparations for coronavirus, but was stymied by political appointees leading the HHS, including Azar.

HHS did not immediately respond to NPR's request for comment.

Bright says that in an effort to get the word out to the public about the risks associated with hydroxychloroquine, he shared with a reporter nonclassified emails between HHS officials that "discussed the drug's potential toxicity and demonstrated the political pressure to rush these drugs from Pakistan and India to American households." He says Azar and Kadlec removed him from his post within days of publication of an article about chloroquine because they suspected he was the article's source.

Bright says he stopped receiving a paycheck on April 20 and has not been assigned any further duties.

News of the whistleblower complaint was made public by his attorney on Tuesday.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Physical and occupational therapists carry bags of personal protective equipment on their way to the room of a COVID-19 patient in a Stamford Hospital intensive care unit in Stamford, Conn., on April 24. This "prone team" turns over COVID-19 to help them breathe.; Credit: John Moore/Getty Images

Intensive care teams inside hospitals are rapidly altering the way they care for patients with COVID-19.

The changes range from new protective gear to new treatment protocols aimed at preventing deadly blood clots.

"Things are moving so fast within this pandemic, it's hard to keep up" says Dr. Angela Hewlett, an infectious diseases physician at University of Nebraska Medical Center in Omaha and medical director of the Nebraska Biocontainment Unit. To stay current, she says, ICUs are updating their practices "on an hourly basis."

"We are learning at light speed about the disease," says Dr. Craig Coopersmith , interim director of the critical care center at Emory University. "Things that previously might have taken us years to learn, we're learning in a week or two. Things that might have taken us a month to learn beforehand, we're learning in a day or two."

The most obvious changes involve measures to protect ICU doctors, nurses and staff from the virus.

"There is a true and real probability of infection," says Dr. Tiffany Osborn a critical care specialist at Washington University School of Medicine and Barnes-Jewish Hospital in St. Louis. "You have to think about everything you touch as if it burned."

So ICUs are adapting measures used at special biocontainment units like the one at the University of Nebraska. These units were designed to care for patients affected by bioterrorism or infected with particularly hazardous communicable diseases like SARS and Ebola.

The Nebraska biocontainment unit "received several patients early on in the pandemic who were medically evacuated from the Diamond Princess cruise ship," Hewlett says. But it didn't have enough beds for the large numbers of local patients who began arriving at the University of Nebraska Medical Center.

So the nurses, respiratory therapists and physicians from the biocontainment team have "fanned out and are now working within those COVID units to make sure that all of our principles and protocols are followed there as well," Hewlett says.

Those protocols involve measures like monitoring ICU staff when they remove their protective gear to make sure the virus isn't transmitted, and placing infected patients in negative pressure rooms, which draw air inward, when possible to prevent the virus from escaping.

One of the riskiest ICU procedures is inserting a breathing tube in a COVID-19 patient's airway, which creates a direct path for virus to escape from a patient's lungs. "If you're intubating a patient, that's a much higher risk than, say, going in and doing routine patient care," Hewlett says.

So ICU teams are being advised to add several layers of protection beyond a surgical mask.

Extra personal protective equipment may include an N95 respirator, goggles, a full face shield, a head hood, an impermeable isolation gown and double gloves.

In many ICUs, teams are also placing a clear plastic box or sheet over the patient's head and upper body before inserting the tube. And as a final safety measure, the doctor may guide the tube using a video camera rather than looking directly down a patient's airway.

"It usually takes 30 minutes or so in order to get all of that equipment together, to get all of the right people there," says Dr. Kira Newman, a senior resident physician at UW Medical Center in Seattle. "and that would be a particularly fast intubation."

But most changes in the ICU are in response to an ongoing flood of new information about how COVID-19 affects the body.

There's a growing understanding, for example, that the infection can cause dangerous blood clots to form in many severely ill patients. These clots can kill if they block arteries supplying the lungs or brain. But they also can prevent blood from reaching the kidneys or even a patient's arms and legs.

Clots are a known risk for all ICU patients, Cooperman says, but the frequency and severity appears much greater with COVID-19. "So we're starting them on a higher level of medicine to prevent blood clots and if somebody actually develops blood clots, we have a plan B and a plan C and a plan D," he says.

ICU teams are also recalibrating their approach to ensuring that patients are getting enough oxygen. Early in the pandemic, the idea was to put patients on mechanical ventilator quickly to make sure their oxygen levels didn't fall too far.

But with experience, doctors have found that mechanical ventilators don't seem to work as well for COVID patients as they do for patients with other lung problems. They've also learned that that many COVID-19 patients remain lucid and relatively comfortable even when the oxygen levels in their blood are extremely low.

So many specialists are now recommending alternatives to mechanical ventilation, even for some of the sickest patients. "We're really trying now to not intubate," Osborn says.

Instead, ICU teams are relying on devices that deliver oxygen through the nasal passages, or through a mask that fits tightly over the face. And there's renewed interest in an old technique to help patients breathe. It's called proning.

"Instead of them being on their back, we're turning them on their front," Osborn says. The reason, she says is to open up a part of the lung that is collapsed when a patient is on their back.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

The serious inflammatory syndrome sending some children and teens to the hospital remains extremely uncommon, doctors say. But if your child spikes a high, persistent fever, and has severe abdominal pain and vomiting that doesn't make them feel better, call your doctor as a precaution.; Credit: Sally Anscombe/Getty Images

Sixty-four children and teens in New York State are suspected of having a mysterious inflammatory syndrome that is believed to be linked to COVID-19, the New York Department of Health said in an alert issued Wednesday. A growing number of similar cases — including at least one death — have been reported in other parts of the U.S. and Europe, though the phenomenon is still not well-understood.

Pediatricians say parents should not panic; the condition remains extremely rare. But researchers also are taking a close look at this emerging syndrome, and say parents should be on the lookout for symptoms in their kids that might warrant a quick call to the doctor — a persistent high fever over several days and significant abdominal pains with repeated vomiting, after which the child does not feel better.

"If [the child is] looking particularly ill, you should definitely call the doctor," says Dr. Sean O'Leary, a pediatric infectious disease specialist at Children's Hospital Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus and member of the infectious disease committee for the American Academy of Pediatrics.

The new condition associated with COVID-19 is called Pediatric Multi-System Inflammatory Syndrome. Symptoms include persistent fever, extreme inflammation, and evidence of one or more organs that are not functioning properly, says cardiologist Jane Newburger, a professor of pediatrics at Harvard Medical School and director of the Kawasaki Program at Boston Children's Hospital.

"It's still very rare, but there's been a wave of cases. Physicians and scientists are working hard to understanding the mechanisms at play, and why only some children are so severely affected," Newburger says.

Some symptoms can resemble features of Kawasaki Disease Shock Syndrome. Kawasaki Disease is an acute illness in children involving fever, together with symptoms of rash, conjunctivitis, redness in the lips, tongue and mucous membranes of the mouth and throat, swollen hands and/or feet, and sometimes a large group of lymph nodes on one side of the neck, says Newburger. Some children with the condition develop enlargement of the coronary arteries and aneurysms in those blood vessels.

A small percentage of Kawasaki cases go on to develop symptoms of shock – which can include a steep drop in systolic blood pressure and difficulty with sufficient blood supply to the body's organs. Kawasaki disease and KDSS more often affect young children, although they can sometimes affect teens, Newburger says.

Some cases of the new inflammatory syndrome have features that overlap with KD or with KDSS — including rash, conjunctivitis, and swollen hands or feet. The new inflammatory syndrome can affect not only young children but also older children and teens.

But patients with the new syndrome have lab results that look very different, in particular, "cardiac inflammation to a greater degree than we typically see in Kawasaki shock syndrome," which is usually very rare, O'Leary says. In New York City and London, which have seen large numbers of cases of COVID-19 cases, "those types of patients are being seen with greater frequency."

Some patients "come in very, very sick," with low blood pressure and high fever, O'Leary says. Some children have had coronary artery aneurysms, though most have not, he adds.

Other patients exhibit symptoms more similar to toxic shock syndrome, with abdominal pain, vomiting and diarrhea and high levels of inflammation in the body, as well as the heart, O'Leary says. Most cases are treated in the intensive care unit, he says. Treatment includes intravenous immunoglobulin, which can "calm the immune system," says Newburger, as well as steroids and cytokine blockers.

The evidence so far from Europe, where reports of the syndrome first emerged, suggests most children will recover with proper supportive care, says O'Leary, though one adolescent, a 14-year-old boy in London, has died, according to a report published Wednesday in The Lancet.

Most children with the syndrome, O'Leary and Newburger note, have either tested positive for a current infection with the coronavirus, or for antibodies to the virus, which would suggest they were infected earlier and recovered from it.

And, according to case reports, some of the kids with the inflammatory syndrome who tested negative on coronavirus tests had been exposed at some point to someone known to have COVID-19. The inflammatory syndrome can appear days to weeks after COVID-19 illness, doctors say, suggesting the syndrome arises out of the immune system's response to the virus.

"One theory is that as one begins to make antibodies to SARS-COV-2, the antibody itself may be provoking an immune response," says Newburger. "This is only happening in susceptible individuals whose immune systems are built in a particular way. It doesn't happen in everybody. It's still a really uncommon event in children."

In late April, the U.K.'s National Health Service issued an alert to pediatricians about the syndrome. Reports have also surfaced in France, Spain and Italy, and probably number in the dozens globally, Newburger and O'Leary say, though doctors still don't have hard numbers. Newburger says there needs to be a registry where doctors can report cases "so we can begin to generate some statistics."

"Doctors across countries are talking to each other, but we need for there to be some structure and some science so that everybody can interpret," she says.

Earlier this week, the New York City Health Department issued an alert saying 15 children ranging in age from 2 to 15 had been hospitalized with the syndrome. Newburger says that she's been contacted about cases in New Jersey and Philadelphia, as well.

While the syndrome's precise connection to the coronavirus isn't yet clear, O'Leary says the fact that the children in most of these cases are testing positive for exposure to the virus, one way or another, provides one point of evidence. The sheer number of cases — small in absolute terms, but still "much higher than we would expect normally for things like severe Kawasaki or toxic shock syndrome" — provides another, he says.

And then there's the fact that most reports of the syndrome have come out of the U.K. and New York City, places that have been hit with large numbers of COVID-19 cases.

"It's pure speculation at this point," he says, "but the U.K. cluster kind of went up about a month after their COVID-19 infections went up, which would suggest that it is some kind of an immune phenomenon."

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

; Credit: /Janice Chang for NPR

The high school senior sitting across from Franciene Sabens was in tears over the abrupt amputation of her social life and turmoil at home. Because of the coronavirus, there will be no prom, no traditional send-off or ceremony for the graduates of Carbondale Community High School in Carbondale, Ill. And Sabens, one of the school's counselors, could not give the girl the one thing Sabens' gut told her the teen needed most.

"I want to hug them all, but I really wanted to hug that one," Sabens remembers.

Instead of a desk between counselor and student, there were miles of Internet cable and a computer screen. No hug. No private office. This is Sabens' new normal.

"Zoom is just not gonna ever bridge that gap," she says. "That one was pretty rough."

The job of the school counselor has evolved over the years, from academic guide to something deeper: the adult in a school tasked with fostering students' social and emotional growth, a mental health first responder and a confidant for kids, especially teens, who often need a closed door and a sympathetic ear. But the closure of nearly all U.S. schools has forced counselors like Sabens to reimagine how they can do their jobs. And the stakes have never been higher.

Why students need counselors now more than ever

Between closed schools, social isolation, food scarcity and parental unemployment, the coronavirus pandemic has so destabilized kids' support systems that the result, counselors say, is genuinely traumatic.

Sarah Kirk, an elementary school counselor in Tulsa, Okla., is especially worried about her students who were already at-risk, whose families "really struggle day to day in their homes with how they're going to pay the next bill and how they're going to get food on the table. Being home for this extended period of time is definitely a trauma for them."

For so many children, Kirk says, "school is their safe place. They look forward to coming. They don't want to leave when the day is over. And to take that away from them, I do worry about the traumatic experience that will cause for many of our students."

Counselors say part of the trauma comes from students being isolated from each other.

"In a middle school, that social piece is so important," says Laura Ross, a middle school counselor in Lawrenceville, Ga. Yes, they do a lot of connecting via social media, and that's still happening, "but that face-to-face and being with their friends... they're missing that."

Students are also experiencing a kind of grief "over what they've lost," Sabens says, especially seniors. "Losing out on the end of their senior years — something that they've dreamed about their whole life... has really been overwhelming for them. So there have been a lot of tears. There have been a lot of questions... 'What did we ever do to deserve this?'"

Unfortunately, there are no easy answers. Instead, Sabens says, she tries to let students know "that it's OK to not be OK. I mean, most of the world is not OK right now... It's OK to grieve about what you're losing because it is tragic."

Brian Coleman, a high school counselor in Chicago, says trauma is nothing new to many of his students, but he hopes awareness of the potentially traumatic effects of school closures means "trauma-informed care is going to really, really explode in ideally healthy, meaningful ways."

That means school leaders should right now be planning for the future, asking how they can best support students when they come back to school, Ross says, "making sure that we're prepared to deal with some of those feelings that are going to increase — of anxiousness, of grief, of that disconnect that they had for so long."

Broken connections

Not only are many students grieving and struggling with new trauma, it's also harder now for school counselors to help them. That's because counselors have lost one of the most powerful tools they had before schools closed: access. Before, counselors could speak to entire classrooms about bullying and how to manage their feelings, plus they enjoyed office space where students could drop in for a quick visit or schedule a tough conversation.

"I think about my eighth graders," says Laura Ross in Lawrenceville. "My office is in their hallway. I mean, they just stop by to say hello. They stop by when they're upset, just to come in and talk and, you know, figure out their feelings."

But all of that has changed. Today, a face-to-face video meeting is the closest a counselor can get to the old ideal. Before that can happen, though, Sabens says she has to find her students.

"Email, email, email, email — lots of emails," she says, calling it her "primary mode of communication with the students."

Connecting is even more complicated for elementary school counselors whose students generally don't have cell phones or email addresses. In Tulsa, Sarah Kirk says this inability to speak directly with children is "exactly what keeps me up at night."

So far, Kirk has mostly been in contact with parents and caregivers. "That's whose [phone] number I have... But it's really up to the parent if they want to hand the phone over [to the student]." She worries that, if a child is not OK at home and needs help, she won't know.

Kirk's focus on these calls has also shifted away from academics toward "the basic needs of our kids... making sure they have enough food. We're making sure they're safe."

Evelyn Ramirez, a first-year middle school counselor in rural Redwood Valley, Calif., agrees: "Our main priority right now is just to check the welfare of each student."

Ramirez, a first-generation Mexican-American, says online learning can put additional strain on immigrant and low-income families. "I feel for the students whose parents don't know English or don't really know how to help their students."

"It's no longer private"

NPR spoke with counselors across the country, from California to Georgia, Oklahoma to Ohio, and nearly all said they worry about even the best-case scenario — when they're able to connect with a student face-to-face using video chat technology. Their fear: privacy.

At school, "we have some sort of office space... where students can feel like they're having a private conversation with counselors," says Coleman in Chicago. "Now we're asking them to be vulnerable in some capacity at home. And for so many students, home is a space where they're triggered or they don't feel comfortable sharing ... because it's no longer private."

Yes, the student's bedroom door may be closed, says Ramirez in Redwood Valley, but "at any given point, someone can walk in or, you know, mom's down in the living room. She can probably hear [our] conversation." And that might keep students from really opening up about things like basic stress or even abuse.

The same holds true for many elementary school counselors.

"We do small group counseling for kids [who] are adjusting to a variety of changes, and there's an element of confidentiality that's built into that group," says Marie Weller, an elementary school counselor in Delaware, Ohio. "So I can't do a group online. I can't use Canvas or Zoom or Google Hangouts for a group because I can't get the confidentiality. So [I'm] trying to figure out, how can I check in?"

Getting creative

In Lawrenceville, Laura Ross admits: These have been trying times. But there's also a surprising upside, she says. The distance from students has forced her to get creative about how she uses technology to build a bridge back to them.

Before the outbreak, Ross helped create an after-school club for students who identify as LGBTQ+. When school closed, Ross set up a Google Classroom and asked if the club's members wanted to continue to meet virtually. "They definitely did. And the reactions were just a relief that they were still going to have the support of that club... the place that they could truly be themselves."

Ross says they even meet at the same time each week, just on Zoom.

On her last day in the office, before Ohio closed its schools, Marie Weller remembers starting to leave — then hesitating beside the childlike puppets she sometimes uses in her classroom counseling presentations. "Huh," she thought. "Maybe I'll be able to use these."

Weller and her fellow elementary school counselors say one important part of their job is making sure all students have the social-emotional skills and coping strategies they'll need to navigate a complex world. How can they do that now, from home?

Weller improvised.

She set up a smartphone camera in her house, surrounded by those puppets — a kind of surrogate classroom audience — and set about recording mini counseling lessons from her kitchen. Instead of the chime she normally uses to begin a lesson, she rings a mixing bowl with a red spatula. To teach kids about how and why they should filter what they say, leaving hurtful thoughts unspoken, she opens the coffee maker to show them how a real, paper filter works.

Weller does her own editing and even got permission from folk music favorites The Irish Rovers to use their song "What's Cooking In The Kitchen" as her opening theme. The resulting videos are brief, rich and charming, with lines like, "Your brain's amygdala acts like a guard dog."

And in Tulsa, Sarah Kirk is doing something similar, posting videos where she's sitting on the floor of her house, surrounded by colorful pennants and stuffed animals. Her dog, Crew, a cuddly 80-pound sheepadoodle (nearly as big as Kirk), even makes a camera-blocking cameo.

In her first episode, Kirk read a story meant to reassure children she can no longer hug. It's about how we all have an invisible string that connects us, even when we're far apart.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

On Monday, California State University, Fullerton announced it was planning to begin the fall 2020 semester online, making it one of the first colleges to disclose contingency plans for prolonged coronavirus disruptions.

"Our plan is to enter [the fall] virtually," said Pamella Oliver, the schools provost, at a virtual town hall. "Of course that could change depending on the situation, depending on what happens with COVID-19. But at this point that's what we're thinking."

The public institution in Southern California also said it hopes to resume in-person learning when it's safe to do so.

Oliver asked faculty to start planning for fall virtual classes now, citing the pain felt this spring when the university was forced to transition to online classes. "Having to jump quickly, without having in-depth plans," she said, "added to the difficulty."

Colleges and universities moved spring classes online, and many also closed campuses in response to the coronavirus pandemic. Schools are now grappling with how long the disruptions will last, and what the fall semester will look like, but many have been hesitant to announce their fall plans publicly.

College enrollment was already on a downward trend before the pandemic, making it a competitive field for college recruiters — every student they sign up counts. The big question is: Will students still enroll if college is all online? And will colleges that were already in dire financial straits survive the outbreak?

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Students walk outside Detroit's Pershing High School in 2017. A lawsuit claims the state of Michigan failed to provide the city's students with the most fundamental of skills: the ability to read.; Credit: Carlos Osorio/AP

In a landmark decision, a federal appeals court has ruled that children have a constitutional right to literacy, dealing a remarkable victory to students.

The ruling comes in response to a lawsuit brought by students of five Detroit schools, claiming that because of deteriorating buildings, teacher shortages and inadequate textbooks, the state of Michigan failed to provide them with the most fundamental of skills: the ability to read.

For decades, civil rights lawyers have tried to help students and families in underfunded schools by arguing that the U.S. Constitution guarantees children at least a basic education. Federal courts have consistently disagreed. Until now.

The ability to read and write is "essential" for a citizen to participate in American democracy, the 6th Circuit Court of Appeals ruled on Thursday. One cannot effectively vote, answer a jury summons, pay taxes or even read a road sign if illiterate, wrote Judge Eric Clay, and so where "a group of children is relegated to a school system that does not provide even a plausible chance to attain literacy, we hold that the Constitution provides them with a remedy."

"Like a daycare"

The 2016 complaint alleges that Michigan's then-Gov. Rick Snyder and the state's board of education denied Detroit students their fundamental right to literacy. It cites textbooks that were tattered, outdated and in such short supply that teachers could not send work home. The suit also describes school buildings that were in shocking disrepair: broken toilets and water fountains, leaking ceilings, shattered windows.

In warmer months, the complaint says, a lack of air-conditioning caused some students to faint; in winter, students regularly wore hats, coats and scarves to class. Students became accustomed to seeing cockroaches, mice or rats scurrying across the floor.

"You're sitting down in the classroom, and you see rodents in a corner. Or you can hear things crawling in the books," says Jamarria Hall, a plaintiff in the class-action suit, who graduated in 2017. "But the saddest thing of all was really the resources that they had, like, being in a class where there's 34 students, but there's only six textbooks."

Given these conditions, the five K-12 schools named in the complaint also struggled to retain teachers. Many classes were taught by paraprofessionals or inexperienced teachers placed through the Teach For America program. Often, Hall says, when teachers quit suddenly or didn't show up, students would simply be sent to the gym.

"For days on end — weeks on end — if the school didn't have a substitute or couldn't fill that gap, the gym was basically the go-to place. Or they would set students down in the classroom and really put on a movie, like Frozen... like a daycare," Hall remembers.

At one school, the complaint says, a math teacher quit soon after the school year began "due to frustration with large class sizes and lack of support. ... Eventually, the highest performing eighth grade student was asked to take over teaching both seventh and eighth grade math. This student taught both math classes for a month."

The complaint delivers a crushing assessment of these schools' failure to educate students: Proficiency rates "hover near zero in nearly all subject areas," it says.

"Illiteracy is the norm."

Previous legal efforts to argue that families in low-income, underfunded schools deserve better have run headlong into the U.S. Constitution, which makes no mention of the word "education," let alone a right to it.

One of the most famous cases, San Antonio Independent School District v. Rodriguez, made it all the way to the Supreme Court before the justices, in a 5-4 decision, ruled that families in poorer districts have no federal right to the same levels of funding as wealthier districts. They essentially said: The system isn't fair, but the U.S. government has no obligation to make it so.

In fact, the first judge to hear the current, Detroit case came to much the same conclusion.

U.S. District Judge Stephen Murphy dismissed the Michigan suit in 2018, writing that, yes, "literacy — and the opportunity to obtain it — is of incalculable importance," but not necessarily a fundamental right.

The students' lawyers disputed Murphy's reasoning and appealed his ruling, and, on Thursday, two of three judges took their side.

"We're not asking for a Cadillac"

In the past, many of the arguments used to pursue educational equity in the courts have been inherently comparative. Using the 14th Amendment's Equal Protection Clause, lawyers have focused on disparity — how one school or one district's resources compare to another's.

"This [case] is different," says Tacy Flint, a partner at Sidley Austin LLP and a lawyer for the plaintiffs. "It's not comparative. It's not a question of some people being treated worse than others. This fundamental right to a basic minimum education is a right that every child has."

Flint and her co-counsel focused more on a different pillar of the 14th Amendment, the Due Process Clause, saying the Constitution protects essential rights that "you can't imagine our constitutional democracy or our political life functioning without." And, Flint says, "access to literacy clearly fits that description."

Put simply: The plaintiffs' lawyers did not set out to level the playing field for all students. Instead, they attempted to use the appalling conditions of five Detroit schools to establish a floor.

"This case focuses squarely on literacy as the irreducible minimum," says Kristine Bowman, professor of law and education policy at Michigan State University.

And that minimum is pretty minimal.

"We're not asking for a Cadillac, or even a used, low-end Kia. We're asking for something more than the Flintstones' car," says co-counsel Evan Caminker, a former dean of the University of Michigan Law School.

In his dissent to Thursday's decision, Circuit Judge Eric Murphy argued that accepting literacy as a constitutional right would open a Pandora's box for states, and force federal courts to wrestle with questions beyond their purview: "May they compel states to raise their taxes to generate the needed [school] funds? Or order states to give parents vouchers so that they may choose different schools? How old may textbooks be before they become constitutionally outdated? What minimum amount of training must teachers receive? Which HVAC systems must public schools use?"

Murphy wrote that history, and legal precedent, are on his side: "The Supreme Court has refused to treat education as a fundamental right every time a party has asked it to do so."

After all, the judge reasoned, food, housing and medical care are also "critical for human flourishing and for the exercise of constitutional rights," but the Constitution "does not compel states to spend funds on these necessities of life." Why should education be any different?

A spokesperson for Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer says her office is reviewing the court's decision before it decides what to do next. Whitmer's office also said in a statement that "the governor has a strong record on education and has always believed we have a responsibility to teach every child to read."

While the ruling is historic, it comes with several caveats. Basic literacy is a remarkably low standard to set for schools. As such, legal experts say, this ruling won't have an immediate impact on children in underfunded schools.

"We're not talking about the court having to recognize a broad-based, free-floating, generalized right to education," says Michelle Adams, a professor at Cardozo School of Law in New York City. This will not "open the floodgates of litigation. We're talking about a situation where students are being warehoused and required to be in school and yet they literally cannot read."

The case is also relatively young. The court's decision could be reviewed by the full 6th Circuit, appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court, or returned to play out in District Court. Whitmer's office has not yet indicated how the state will respond.

"The fight is not done yet," says Jamarria Hall, who is now living in Tallahassee, Fla., and taking classes at a community college. "We were fighting just to get into the ring. Now we're in the ring. Now the fight really starts."

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

; Credit: CSA-Archive/Getty Images

This week, U.S. Education Secretary Betsy DeVos announced that more than $300 million from the first coronavirus rescue package will go to two education grant competitions for K-12 and higher ed.

States will be able to apply for a piece of the $180 million allotted to the "Rethink K-12 Education Models Grant" and $127.5 million allotted to the "Reimagining Workforce Preparation Grant."

The money is 1% of the more than $30 billion set aside for education in the CARES Act. Those billions are intended to help states with the highest coronavirus burden.

States can access the money by creating proposals to fund virtual or work-based learning programs. The grant categories include two of DeVos' pre-existing pet policy ideas: "microgrants" that go directly to home-schooling families, and microcredentials that offer a shorter path to workforce preparation.

On the higher ed side, the secretary has long pushed for workforce-oriented education and shorter paths to a degree. She's been praised for this stance by online and for-profit colleges, while traditional institutions have been less sanguine.

Similarly, the secretary is a longtime advocate of alternatives to public schools, including home schooling. She has praised programs like Florida's Gardiner Scholarship, which provides up to $10,000 to the families of children with special needs to support home schooling. Last fall, DeVos proposed a $5 billion "Education Freedom Scholarship" program, which would have used federal tax credits to support, essentially, a voucher program that families could use both for private schools and home schooling.

While this week's announcement is significant for the policy directions it signals, it's a comparatively small amount of money. Education groups have asked the federal government for $200 billion (with a B) more in funds to maintain basic services.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

; Credit: LA Johnson/NPR

When Jessyka Bagdon set out to move her tap dancing classes online, big questions started popping up right away: What about kids who don't own their own tap shoes? How to tap dance at home without ruining the floor?

And then came the really big challenge: Online programs like Zoom are designed for meetings, not dance classes. "They're made to pick up voices," she explains, not the clickety clack of tap-dancing shoes. "So how do we make the system not filter out our tap sounds as background noise?"

So Blagdon, an instructor at 'Knock on Wood Tap Studio' in Washington, D.C., set about problem-solving. No tap shoes? Turns out Mary Jane flats work well. Saving the floor? A piece of plywood does the trick.And that muffled sound over Zoom? Blagdon says fiddling around with some computer settings can help.

In the nation's capital, like the rest of the country, kids cooped up at home for weeks now are craving both physical activity and the mental and creative challenges that extracurricular activities bring. And ballet instructors, soccer coaches and piano teachers — just to name a few — are finding the shutdown every bit as complicated as schools moving academic lessons online.

As their counterparts in schools are finding every day, it's really difficult to explain — watching on a screen — to children in a painting class exactly how to hold the brush to get the right effect. Or to align a young karate student's body just so, for a proper sidekick.

Nevertheless, coaches and instructors are finding creative ways of keeping children active and engaged.

Weeks in, Bagdon says she still has the occasional bump but not always because of technology.

"Emmy, how come you're not dancing with us, my friend?" she asks one 5-year-old who has wandered off screen during class. Her student Emeline has a perfectly valid response, "Sometimes I go to drink a glass of milk!"

For student athletes looking ahead to a summer of meets, games and matches, and the companionship of their friends and teammates, the shutdown is frustrating.

Ava Morales, 16, of Bethesda, Md., was excited about showing off her skills this month in front of hundreds of college recruiters. But instead of being in Arizona, she's stuck at home and can't even see her teammates.

"We're all best friends," she says. "So it's heartbreaking we can't spend time together and that our season is basically cancelled." The online activities are comforting, she says, because it helps keep all her team motivated.

In the Washington area, 60 local soccer clubs have joined together in a new group called DMV United. And they've made a pledge that, during the shutdown, coaches won't engage in recruiting activities.

Tommy Park, with the Alexandria Soccer Association in Virginia, says coaches have shared different online workouts as well as apps that focus on specific soccer skills.

"The apps allow you to log how many juggles you have on the ball in a row and then log that," Park explains. "Maybe you can only get five the first time and then you see your teammates at eight. So try to get nine and you see all of your teammates progress."

Some players are reviewing championship games on video, or making Instagram videos of soccer tricks; others are reading about sports psychology.

But Matt Libber with the Maryland SoccerPlex is clear, this can never replace the adrenaline rush of actually being on the field.

And he worries about some of those bigger lessons kids are missing out on, like the importance of losing sometimes.

"Competing online or through Instagram, yeah, you're losing but you're not losing," he says. A big part of what he and other coaches teach, he says, are "some of those life lessons that, you know, if you learn them as a kid, it makes being an adult so much easier."

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.

Secretary of Education Betsy Devos, seen on March 27, has released new rules for sexual assault complaints on college campuses.; Credit: Jim Watson/AFP via Getty Images

New federal regulations on how schools – from kindergarten all the way through college — must respond to cases of sexual assault and harassment are drawing swift and mixed reactions.

Education Secretary Betsy DeVos announced what she called historic changes Wednesday to Obama-era guidelines that she said will make the process fairer and better protect accused students. While some welcome the changes to Title IX as long overdue, survivors' advocates are panning the new rules as a throwback to the days when sexual assault was seldom reported or punished, and schools are protesting they can't possibly implement them by summer, as required.

Among the most significant changes are new regulations aimed at beefing up protections for accused college students, by mandating live hearings by adjudicators who are neither the Title IX coordinator nor the investigator, and real-time cross examination of each student by the other student's lawyer or representative.

"Cross examination is an important part of ensuring truth is found," said DeVos, adding that "our rule is very sensitive to not requiring students to face each other. In fact it specifically prohibits that. But it's an important part of ensuring that justice is ultimately served."

Under the new regulations, students also have a right to appeal, and schools are allowed to raise the evidentiary standard from "a preponderance of the evidence" to "clear and convincing," making it harder to find a student responsible for misconduct.

Also, the definition of sexual harassment narrows, so only that which is "severe, pervasive and objectively offensive" warrants investigation. On the other hand, dating violence and stalking would now be added to the kinds of offenses that schools must respond to.

Devos' proposed regulations, released last fall, would have given schools no responsibility to deal with off-campus incidents. But after a torrent of criticism, the final rules clarify that schools must respond to off-campus incidents that are in places or during events that the school is involved with. So, for example, frat houses would be covered, but a private off-campus apartment, would not. And a school would be obligated to respond to an alleged incident during a school field trip but not a private house party.

Cynthia Garrett, co-president of Families Advocating for Campus Equality, a group that advocates for the accused, welcomes the changes as long overdue.

"Anybody who's accused of something so vile [as sexual assault] has to have the opportunity to defend themselves," she says. "I think that in order to ruin someone's life [by expelling them from school] there has to be a process like this. It shouldn't be easy."

An accused student who asked to be identified as John Doe, as he was in his court cases, agrees that the new regulations are "very encouraging." He sued his school for suspending him after a hearing that he says denied him due process, by forcing him to defend himself without his attorney, and not allowing him to question his accuser. Later, after a federal court ruling in his favor, he reached a settlement with his school that wiped his record clean. But that was after nearly five years of what he describes as torment.

"People don't realize what these hearings used to look like," he says. "They can't just be a horse and pony show where they go through the motions and the school comes to a predetermined outcome."

Survivor advocates, however, say the new regulations will have a chilling effect on reporting, as alleged victims may view it as futile to file a formal complaint, or too retraumatizing, for example, to be subject to cross-examination. "This is extremely worrisome," says Sage Carson, manager of the survivor advocacy group Know Your IX. The new regulations "make it clear to me that DeVos cares more about schools and [accused students] than she does about survivors," says Carson.

The off-campus exclusion is also a sticking point. "We know that a majority of violence does not happen in libraries or in on-campus housing," says Carson.

She says she was assaulted in an off-campus apartment years ago, and was allowed to file a formal Title IX complaint back then. But if the rules then were like what DeVos is announcing now, Carson would not have had the option. "I would absolutely have dropped out of school," she says.

Doe, however, who was accused of an alleged assault during a private weekend jaunt hundreds of miles away from school during summer break, says the new rules prevent that kind of "overreach." His accuser wasn't a student at his college anymore. He says, "I just don't think that's reasonable."

Schools meantime, have objections of their own, first and foremost being forced to play the role of virtual trial courts to adjudicate intensely complex cases.

"We are not set up to do that," says Terry Hartle, senior vice president of the American Council on Education, a trade association representing 2,000 public and private colleges and universities. "We do not have the legal authority to do that. We don't have the social legitimacy to do that. We want to teach students. We don't want to run courts."

Schools also object to the timing, requiring the changes to be implemented by August 14th, even though schools are already overwhelmed with managing their sudden switch to online learning because of COVID-19.

"This is madness," says Hartle. "This is an extraordinarily complicated piece of work that they have spent more than three years developing. It's a mistake to now turn to colleges and universities and say, put it in place in 100 days. It's simply not going to work very well."

Smaller schools, especially, Hartle says, "are just overwhelmed. They don't know how or where to begin" to implement these changes.

Anticipating the objections, DeVos insisted that "civil rights really can't wait. And students cases continue to be decided now." She suggested that this may actually be the best time for schools to make the changes since there are no students on campus.

Hartle says schools will continue pressing for the Department of Education to allow schools more time. Meantime, several legal challenges are in the works, so a temporary stay is also a possibility. That would give schools a reprieve while those cases wind their way through the courts.

This content is from Southern California Public Radio. View the original story at SCPR.org.