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Tag: children

  • What should I do on the death anniversary? More are asking as US mass killings rise

    What should I do on the death anniversary? More are asking as US mass killings rise

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    ST. PAUL, Minn. — On a September day that he knew would be hard, 51-year-old Damone Presley marked the occasion with barbecue and balloons.

    He was commemorating the one-year anniversary of the day in 2021 that his daughter and her three friends were fatally shot in Minnesota by a man who left their bodies in an abandoned SUV in a Wisconsin cornfield. Presley gathered 50 friends to celebrate the life of his daughter, Nitosha Flug-Presley, who was 30 when she died. He went big on the anniversary because he felt sure that’s what his daughter would have wanted.

    “She would always do stuff big,” Presley told The Associated Press.

    There have been 553 mass killings in the United States since 2006, and at least 2,880 people have died, according to a database maintained by The Associated Press and USA Today in partnership with Northeastern University. Those include killings where four or more died, not including the assailant, within a 24-hour period. So far in 2023, the nation has witnessed the highest number on record of mass killings and deaths to this point in a single year.

    As the number of people who die in mass killings in the U.S. continues to rise, thousands more are left to handle the trauma of losing someone they love to a senseless act of violence. They struggle with a special kind of grief, haunted both by the loss and by how it happened.

    One of the hardest days they confront each year is the anniversary of the killing.

    This Wednesday, families in Uvalde, Texas, will have to face that one-year anniversary — transporting them back to the day when a gunman entered Robb Elementary School and fatally shot 19 children and two teachers as they gathered to celebrate the end of the school year. And last week, families of 10 people in Buffalo, New York, crossed the one-year mark from the day a white supremacist shot and killed them in a supermarket.

    People cope with these anniversaries in different ways. Some throw a party to get through the pain. Others prefer to be completely alone. Many fall somewhere in the middle, adopting little rituals to help get them through the day.

    But they all grapple with the same question, sometimes after many years have passed:

    What do I do with myself on the date that changed everything?

    ___

    On the same day Presley gathered with friends and family at his home, Angela Sturm — whose children, Jasmine Sturm and Matthew Pettus, were killed in the same attack — chose to spend the day alone.

    “I turn down invites to ‘celebrate’ because it’s not a celebration to me,” she said.

    Instead, she honors her children privately by looking at their photos and remembering how their life together used to be. She writes, cries and practices self-care by reading a good book or taking a hot bath. She hopes people will understand that she wants to be alone, and that they shouldn’t worry or be upset if she turns down invitations or doesn’t respond to texts.

    Everyone deals with grief differently, said Jeffrey Shahidullah, a pediatric psychologist at UT-Austin Dell Children’s Medical Center.

    Shahidullah was part of a team that stayed in Uvalde for months after the shooting to operate a crisis walk-in clinic for first responders, community members, family and friends of victims.

    In the short and long term, mass shootings can traumatize entire communities, Shahidullah said. That can lead people — even those who didn’t know the victims personally — to avoid situations that remind them of the event, feel constantly unsafe and experience intrusive flashbacks to when they first heard about the killing.

    “A lot of these symptoms could be exacerbated or worsened around the time of these anniversaries,” Shahidullah said. “Over time, those symptoms do tend to subside. But everyone has their own timeline.”

    ___

    By cruel coincidence, the first anniversary of the Buffalo supermarket shooting fell on Mother’s Day. That made things especially hard for Wayne Jones, whose mother, Celestine Chaney, was among the 10 people killed by a white supremacist that day.

    Jones said some friends came over on the anniversary, and they talked about other things.

    “5/14 is every day to me still,” he said. “I watched my mother get killed on video.”

    The video and a photo of the shooter — standing with the gun he used, a vulgar racial slur scrawled on its barrel — are “ingrained in my brain,” he said.

    Tirzah Patterson and her 13-year-old son, Jaques “Jake” Patterson — who lost his father, church deacon Heyward Patterson, in the supermarket shooting — left town altogether for the anniversary. They have not set foot in Tops Friendly Market since it reopened last summer and did not attend the memorial events in Buffalo for her ex-husband and the others who were killed.

    “We don’t want to go through that again,” Tirzah Patterson said before the weekend. “We’re going to be gone.”

    They spent Mother’s Day weekend in Detroit and attended a church service there.

    ___

    While some are just crossing the one-year mark, others have been dealing with these anniversaries for years.

    Topaz Cooks marked the 10-year anniversary of her father’s death last September. She was a month shy of her 21st birthday in 2012 when her dad and several others were shot and killed at work by a man who was fired from the company in Minneapolis.

    “I still cannot believe that happened to my family,” she said.

    On the anniversaries, she likes to do things her dad, Rami Cooks, enjoyed. Last year, she went on a hike and ate dessert — because her dad loved rugelach, birds and wind. She loves that her friends send her photos of their dessert that day each year with the caption: “For your dad!”

    She also has a journal she writes in once a year on that day, filling her dad in on the highlights, challenges and thoughts from the year that she wishes she could share with him.

    Seven years after the killing, Topaz Cooks said she experienced PTSD while working as a theater stage manager. She was surprised because she didn’t expect it to hit so late. The production’s plot may have triggered it — the play was about a woman avenging her father’s death.

    She said she would get exhausted at the end of rehearsals, lie down on the floor of her office and feel like she couldn’t get up. At times, she felt like her skin was vibrating or that she was outside of her own body. It took months of therapy to feel like she was back in control.

    Talking about the loss isn’t for everybody, but Cooks said it’s important to her.

    “I wish that people talked about it more and normalized it,” she said. “Grief is just so lonely.”

    ___

    A hint of fall hung in the air on Sept. 12, the day Presley threw a party to mark the day his daughter and her three friends were killed and left abandoned. He said he wanted to think about who his daughter was rather than how she died.

    She loved to throw exciting and glamorous birthday parties for her kids, friends and family.

    Presley placed a life-size cardboard cut-out of his daughter smiling in a pink outfit by the door. Guests wore T-shirts with photos of her and phrases like “Never Forgotten” and “Daddy’s #1 Angel.” At Presley’s request, guests gave speeches about the funniest things they remembered his daughter doing.

    Late in the afternoon, they gathered around the front steps of his home, clutching red, yellow, pink and white balloons, some embossed with words like “Forever in Our Hearts.”

    Wide-eyed children, following the lead of the adults around them, listened quietly as a woman sang the gospel song “Take Me to the King.” Presley recited a poem his father had written years before, words Presley’s daughter had adored.

    “I meet the sunrise daily on the way to get mine,” he recited. “I don’t play myself ’cause I don’t got time.”

    When he finished the poem, Presley gave the signal to release the balloons. They soared straight up, gently rising above the rooftops and disappearing into a clear blue sky.

    ___

    Aaron Morrison and Carolyn Thompson contributed from Buffalo, N.Y.

    Trisha Ahmed is a corps member for the Associated Press/Report for America Statehouse News Initiative. Report for America is a nonprofit national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on under-covered issues. Follow Trisha Ahmed on Twitter: @TrishaAhmed15

    ___

    Ahmed’s father, Avijit Roy, was killed on Feb. 26, 2015, by religious militants in Bangladesh. Each year on that date, she throws a party — because he loved celebrations — and surrounds herself with people she loves. This February, they played games and gave a toast in his honor.

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  • Over 13,000 Graduates Invited to Participate in Cal State Fullerton’s May 22-25 Commencement Ceremonies

    Over 13,000 Graduates Invited to Participate in Cal State Fullerton’s May 22-25 Commencement Ceremonies

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    Newswise — More than 13,000 students are eligible to cross Cal State Fullerton’s commencement stages May 22-25, including 11,268 undergraduate and 1,827 graduate students. Twelve in-person ceremonies will be held on campus, with nearly 100,000 guests expected to attend over the four days.

    This year’s recipients of the Alumni Association’s 2023 Outstanding Senior and Graduate Student awards are Ramadhan Ahmed, a biological science major who was accepted to 17 elite medical schools, and Yuliana Fernandez, a psychology master’s student who aspires to provide culturally sensitive therapies for child abuse survivors.

    In addition, entrepreneur and philanthropist Charlie Zhang will be awarded an honorary Doctorate of Humane Letters for his remarkable contributions to the university. Zhang is the founder of Pick Up Stix, Aseptic Solutions and Zion Enterprises.

    All ceremonies will be livestreamed. The complete schedule is available on the 2023 Commencement website:

    Monday, May 22

    • College of Communications, 5 p.m.

    • College of Education, 5 p.m.

    Tuesday, May 23

    • College of Health and Human Development, 8 a.m. and 5 p.m.

    • College of Natural Sciences and Mathematics, 8 a.m.

    • College of Humanities and Social Sciences, 5 p.m.

    Wednesday, May 24

    • College of Business and Economics, 8 a.m. and 5 p.m.

    • College of Humanities and Social Sciences, 8 a.m. and 5 p.m.

    Thursday, May 25

    • College of the Arts, 8 a.m.

    • College of Engineering and Computer Science, 8 a.m.

    About Cal State Fullerton: The largest university in the CSU and the only campus in Orange County, Cal State Fullerton offers 110 degree programs and Division 1 athletics. Recognized as a national model for supporting student success, CSUF excels with innovative, high-impact educational practices, including faculty-student collaborative research, study abroad and competitive internships. Our vibrant and diverse campus is a primary driver of workforce and economic development in the region. CSUF is a top public university known for its success in supporting first-generation and underrepresented students, and preparing all students to become leaders in the global marketplace. Our It Takes a Titan campaign, a five-year $250 million comprehensive fundraising initiative, prioritizes investments in academic innovation, student empowerment, campus transformation and community enrichment. Visit fullerton.edu.

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    California State University, Fullerton

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  • UT Dentists is investing in the future one small smile at a time by expanding dental care at Harris County Resources for Children and Adults

    UT Dentists is investing in the future one small smile at a time by expanding dental care at Harris County Resources for Children and Adults

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    Newswise — UTHealth Houston pediatric dentists are now part of the Integrated Health Clinic, a program of Harris County Resources for Children and Adults, by providing comprehensive medical, dental, and behavioral health care for children in Harris County who are involved or under the care of Child Protective Services. 

    The clinic, which already includes faculty physicians from McGovern Medical School at UTHealth Houston’s pediatric general and psychiatry practices, will now offer dental services including evaluations, dental cleanings, X-rays, extractions, sealants, and fillings.

    “It is not very common that a dentist, psychiatrist, and pediatrician can actively converse in real time about a shared patient. That is integrated health and it’s powerful,” said Lawrence Thompson, Jr., PhD, director of Integrated Health Services at Harris County Resources for Children and Adults.

    Recognized as a Foster Care Center of Excellence by Superior HealthPlan, the clinic is dedicated to improving the health of children from birth to 18 years old who are in the foster care program, making it easier for them to receive care at a single center.

    “Caring for kids is the apex of the program. There is so much more opportunity to learn where the need is, and help as we knit these specialties together. It’s exciting and makes this facility special,” said Greg Olson, DDS, MS, professor and chair of pediatric dentistry and the Catherine M. Flaitz, DDS, Professor in Pediatric Dentistry at UTHealth Houston School of Dentistry.

    Founded in 1972, the Integrated Health Clinic provides compassionate care including prevention and early intervention services for children through various accessible programs in collaboration with McGovern Medical School at UTHealth Houston, the Texas Department of Family and Protective services, and Superior HealthPlan.

    “The children who come to the clinic don’t have much stability or control in their lives; and the doctors who see them here are often the most consistent adults they have in their lives,” Thompson said.

    New visits at the youth clinic involve three full-day exam screenings conducted by medical providers to ensure children’s health history is updated through a state-required child and adolescent needs assessment.

    “The children here are resilient and it is amazing to see how they have blossomed from the first visit to after a month of care. They smile more and become much more interactive,” said Kim Cheung, MD, associate professor of pediatrics at McGovern Medical School and medical director of the Integrated Health Clinic.

    Soon-to-be providers who are currently students at McGovern Medical School and other schools rotate within the clinic to gain a better understanding of community-based care.

    “Professionals have the opportunity to learn from each other while caring for the kids,” Olson said. “Additionally, opportunities abound for collaborative research to understand the overall impact and best practices of models like this.”

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    University of Texas Health Science Center at Houston

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  • UN warns that urgent funding needed to avert catastrophic hunger in northeast Nigeria

    UN warns that urgent funding needed to avert catastrophic hunger in northeast Nigeria

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    The United Nations office in Nigeria says at least $396 million is urgently needed to prevent widespread hunger and malnutrition caused by the security crisis in northeastern Nigeria from turning into a “full-blown catastrophe.”

    ByCHINEDU ASADU Associated Press

    ABUJA, Nigeria — At least $396 million is urgently needed to prevent widespread hunger and malnutrition in northeastern Nigeria from turning into a “full-blown catastrophe,” the United Nations office in the West African nation said Thursday.

    “We are ringing the alarm bell that there are people close to or dying (of hunger) right now in the northeast,” Matthias Schmale, the U.N. humanitarian coordinator for Nigeria, said in the capital, Abuja, while releasing the lean season food and nutrition crisis plan.

    Security forces in northeastern Nigeria have been battling Islamic extremist rebels who launched an insurgency in 2009 to fight against Western education and to establish Islamic Shariah law in the region. At least 35,000 people have been killed and more than 2 million displaced as a result of the violence, according to data from U.N. agencies in Nigeria.

    A breakaway faction of the Boko Haram extremist group, known as the Islamic State West Africa Province, has risen to prominence, dominating the fringes of the Lake Chad region where its fighters often target security force convoys and outposts.

    The U.N. has said over 80% of those in need in the hard-hit region are women and children, making them more vulnerable to other forms of crimes and violence. It warned that limited funding could increase the risk of famine.

    Aid groups have reported an unprecedented number of malnourished children in the conflict zone as hunger bites harder for many families, including those in hard-to-reach areas. The French medical charity Doctors Without Borders said last month that the number of weekly admissions of children is two to three times higher than previous highs over the past five years.

    Schmale, the humanitarian coordinator, described speaking with children who go for days without eating enough and with mothers fighting for the lives of their malnourished infants.

    “More than half a million people may face emergency levels of food insecurity with extremely high rates of acute malnutrition and cases of mortality if there is no rapid and significant scale-up of humanitarian assistance,” he said.

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  • 8-year-old girl dies in Border Patrol custody in Harlingen, Texas, as agency seeks to ease crowding

    8-year-old girl dies in Border Patrol custody in Harlingen, Texas, as agency seeks to ease crowding

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    U.S. authorities say an 8-year-old girl died Wednesday in Border Patrol custody, a rare occurrence that comes as the agency struggles with overcrowding

    FILE – Migrants wait in line adjacent to the border fence under the watch of the Texas National Guard to enter into El Paso, Texas, Wednesday, May 10, 2023. U.S. authorities say an 8-year-old girl died Wednesday, May 17, in Border Patrol custody, a rare occurrence that comes as the agency struggles with overcrowding. The Border Patrol had 28,717 people in custody on May 10, the day before pandemic-related asylum restrictions expired, which was double from two weeks earlier, according to a court filing. (AP Photo/Andres Leighton, File)

    The Associated Press

    HARLINGEN, Texas — An 8-year-old girl died Wednesday in Border Patrol custody, authorities said, a rare occurrence that comes as the agency struggles with overcrowding.

    The child and her family were being held at a station in Harlingen, Texas, in Rio Grande Valley, one of the busiest corridors for illegal crossings, U.S. Customs and Border Protection, the Border Patrol’s parent agency, said in a statement.

    The girl experienced “a medical emergency” and was taken to a nearby hospital, where she died, according to the statement, which did not disclose her nationality or provide additional information about the incident.

    Customs and Border Protection’s internal affairs office will investigate, and the Homeland Security Department’s inspector general and Harlingen police have been notified, Miller said. Sgt. Larry Moore, a spokesman for the Harlingen Police Department, said he had no information about the death.

    The Border Patrol had 28,717 people in custody on May 10, the day before pandemic-related asylum restrictions expired, which was double from two weeks earlier, according to a court filing. By Sunday, the number had dropped 23% to 22,259, still unusually high.

    The average time in custody on Sunday was 77 hours, five hours more than the maximum allowed under agency policy.

    Last week, the Border Patrol began releasing migrants in the U.S. without notices to appear in immigration court, instead directing them to report to an immigration office within 60 days. The move spares Border Patrol agents time-consuming processing duties, allowing them to open space in holding facilities. A federal judge in Florida ordered an end to the quick releases.

    Also last week, a 17-year-old Honduran boy traveling alone died in U.S. Health and Human Services Department custody.

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  • Here are the restrictions on transgender people that are moving forward in US states

    Here are the restrictions on transgender people that are moving forward in US states

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    Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis has highlighted efforts by Republican governors and statehouses across the country to embrace proposals limiting the rights of transgender people, signing new restrictions as he moves closer to a presidential bid.

    The restrictions are spreading quickly despite criticism from medical groups and advocates who say they’re further marginalizing transgender youth and threatening their health.

    Here’s what’s happening:

    FLORIDA’S RESTRICTIONS

    DeSantis on Wednesday signed bills that ban gender affirming care for minors, restrict pronoun use in schools and force people to use the bathroom corresponding with their sex assigned at birth in some cases.

    DeSantis also signed new restrictions on drag shows that would allow the state to revoke the food and beverage licenses of businesses that admit children to adult performances. The DeSantis administration has moved to pull the liquor licenses of businesses that held drag shows, alleging children were present during lewd displays.

    The rules on gender affirming care also ban the use of state money for the care and place new restrictions on adults seeking treatment. They take effect immediately, along with the drag show restrictions. The bathroom and pronoun restrictions take effect July 1.

    DeSantis has been an outspoken advocate for such restrictions, and championed a Florida law that restricts the teaching of sexual orientation and gender identity in public schools. Florida has expanded that prohibition, which critics have dubbed the “Don’t Say Gay” law, to all grades.

    WHERE BANS STAND NATIONALLY

    Hundreds of bills have been proposed this year restricting the rights of transgender people, and LGBTQ+ advocates say they’ve seen a record number of such measures in statehouses.

    At least 17 states have now enacted laws restricting or banning gender-affirming care for minors: Alabama, Arkansas, Arizona, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Indiana, Iowa, Kentucky, Mississippi, Montana, North Dakota, Oklahoma, Tennessee, Utah, South Dakota and West Virginia. Federal judges have blocked enforcement of laws in Alabama and Arkansas, and several other states are considering bills this year to restrict or ban care. Proposed bans are also pending before Texas and Missouri’s governors.

    These bans have spread quickly, with only three states enacting such laws before this year.

    Before DeSantis signed the latest ban, Florida was one of two states that had restricted the care via regulations or administrative action. Texas’s governor has ordered child welfare officials to investigate reports of children receiving such care as child abuse, though a judge has blocked those investigations.

    Three transgender youth and their parents who are suing to block Florida’s earlier ban on the care for minors expanded their challenge on Wednesday to include the prohibition DeSantis signed into law.

    Every major medical organization, including the American Medical Association, has opposed the bans and supported the medical care for youth when administered appropriately. Lawsuits have been filed in several of the states where the bans have been enacted this year.

    STATES POISED TO ACT

    A proposed ban on gender affirming care for minors is awaiting action before Republican Gov. Mike Parson in Missouri. The state’s Republican attorney general, Andrew Bailey, this week withdrew a rule he had proposed that would have gone further by also restricting access to the care for adults.

    Bailey cited the bill pending before Parson as a reason for eliminating the rule, which had been blocked by a state judge.

    Nebraska Republicans on Tuesday folded a 12-week abortion ban into a bill that would ban gender affirming care for minors, potentially clearing the way for a final vote on the combined measure as early as this week.

    Not all states are adopting restrictions, and some Democrat-led states are enacting measures aimed at protecting the rights of LGBTQ+ youth.

    Michigan Democrats plan to introduce legislation Thursday that would ban conversion therapy for minors, a discredited practice of trying to “convert” people to heterosexuality.

    The legislation is expected to move quickly with Democrats in control of all levels of state government. Democratic state Rep. Jason Hoskins, a sponsor of the bill, told The Associated Press that he hopes the legislation passes by the end of June, which is Pride Month.

    ___

    Associated Press writers Brendan Farrington in Tallahassee, Florida; Margery Beck in Lincoln, Nebraska; Margaret Stafford in Kansas City, Missouri; and Joey Cappelletti in Lansing, Michigan, contributed to this report.

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  • Texas Legislature OKs ban on gender-affirming care for minors

    Texas Legislature OKs ban on gender-affirming care for minors

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    Texas would soon become the largest state to ban gender-affirming care for minors under a bill now headed to Republican Gov. Greg Abbott

    ByPAUL J. WEBER Associated Press

    AUSTIN, Texas — Texas would become the largest state to ban gender-affirming care for minors under a bill sent Wednesday night to Republican Gov. Greg Abbott, who has previously ordered child welfare officials to investigate such treatment as abuse.

    The bill cleared the GOP-controlled Legislature after a final vote in the Senate over the objections of Democrats, who used parliamentary maneuvers in recent weeks to delay passage but could not derail it entirely.

    Texas is now poised to join at least 17 other states that have enacted similar bans.

    Abbott’s office did not return an email seeking comment Wednesday night. Last year, Abbott became the first governor to order the investigation of families who were receiving care. The investigations were later halted by a Texas judge.

    Every major medical organization, including the American Medical Association, has opposed the bans and supported the medical care for minors when administered appropriately.

    Texas is among a number of states where Republican lawmakers have given priority status this year to measures limiting the rights of transgender people. Earlier Wednesday, the Texas House also gave preliminary approval to a bill that puts restrictions on transgender college athletes.

    Transgender rights activists have disrupted the Texas House with protests from the chamber gallery, which have led to state police forcing demonstrators to move outside the building.

    Earlier this month, a Texas hospital’s care for transgender minors came under investigation by state Attorney General Ken Paxton, who said he was seeking evidence of alleged “potentially illegal activity” without elaborating.

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  • YouTube sends gun videos to 9-year-olds: ‘It’s not the kids. It’s the algorithms,’ study finds

    YouTube sends gun videos to 9-year-olds: ‘It’s not the kids. It’s the algorithms,’ study finds

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    WASHINGTON — When researchers at a nonprofit that studies social media wanted to understand the connection between YouTube videos and gun violence, they set up accounts on the platform that mimicked the behavior of typical boys living in the U.S.

    They simulated two nine-year-olds who both liked video games, especially first-person shooter games. The accounts were identical, except that one clicked on the videos recommended by YouTube, and the other ignored the platform’s suggestions.

    The account that clicked on YouTube’s suggestions was soon flooded with graphic videos about school shootings, tactical gun training videos and how-to instructions on making firearms fully automatic. One video featured an elementary school-age girl wielding a handgun; another showed a shooter using a .50 caliber gun to fire on a dummy head filled with lifelike blood and brains. Many of the videos violate YouTube’s own policies against violent or gory content.

    The findings show that despite YouTube’s rules and content moderation efforts, the platform is failing to stop the spread of frightening videos that could traumatize vulnerable children — or send them down dark roads of extremism and violence.

    “Video games are one of the most popular activities for kids. You can play a game like ”Call of Duty” without ending up at a gun shop — but YouTube is taking them there,” said Katie Paul, director of the Tech Transparency Project, the research group that published its findings about YouTube on Tuesday. “It’s not the video games, it’s not the kids. It’s the algorithms.”

    The accounts that followed YouTube’s suggested videos received 382 different firearms-related videos in a single month, or about 12 per day. The accounts that ignored YouTube’s recommendations still received some gun-related videos, but only 34 in total.

    The researchers also created accounts mimicking 14-year-old boys who liked video games; those accounts also received similar levels of gun- and violence-related content.

    One of the videos recommended for the accounts was titled “How a Switch Works on a Glock (Educational Purposes Only).” YouTube later removed the video after determining it violated its rules; an almost identical video popped up two weeks later with a slightly altered name; that video remains available.

    Messages seeking comment from YouTube were not immediately returned on Tuesday. Executives at the platform, which is owned by Google, have said that identifying and removing harmful content is a priority, as is protecting its youngest users. YouTube requires users under 17 to get their parent’s permission before using their site; accounts for users younger than 13 are linked to the parental account.

    Along with TikTok, the video sharing platform is one of the most popular sites for children and teens. Both sites have been criticized in the past for hosting, and in some cases promoting, videos that encourage gun violence, eating disorders and self-harm. Critics of social media have also pointed to the links between social media, radicalization and real-world violence.

    The perpetrators behind many recent mass shootings have usedsocial media and video streaming platforms to glorify violence or even livestream their attacks. In posts on YouTube, the shooter behind the attack on a 2018 attack on a school in Parkland, Fla., that killed 17 wrote “I wanna kill people,” “I’m going to be a professional school shooter” and “I have no problem shooting a girl in the chest.”

    The neo-Nazi gunman who killed eight people earlier this month at a Dallas-area shopping center also had a YouTube account that included videos about assembling rifles, the serial killed Jeffrey Dahmer and a clip from a school shooting scene in a television show.

    In some cases, YouTube has already removed some of the videos identified by researchers at the Tech Transparency Project, but in other instances the content remains available. Many big tech companies rely on automated systems to flag and remove content that violates their rules, but Paul said the findings from the Project’s report show that greater investments in content moderation are needed.

    In the absence of federal regulation, social media companies can target young users with potentially harmful content designed to keep them coming back for more, said Shelby Knox, campaign director of the advocacy group Parents Together. Knox’s group has called out platforms like YouTube, Instagram and TikTok for making it easy for children and teens to find content about suicide, guns, violence and drugs.

    “Big Tech platforms like TikTok have chosen their profits, their stockholders, and their companies over children’s health, safety, and even lives over and over again,” Knox said in response to a report published earlier this year that showed TikTok was recommending harmful content to teens.

    TikTok has defended its site and its policies, which prohibit users younger than 13. Its rules also prohibit videos that encourage harmful behavior; users who search for content about topics including eating disorders automatically receive a prompt offering mental health resources.

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  • Brazil sends thousands of Venezuelan migrants to country’s rich southern states

    Brazil sends thousands of Venezuelan migrants to country’s rich southern states

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    PACARAIMA, Brazil — As the sun rose, Miguel Gonzalez, partner Maryelis Rodriguez and their four young children got off a passenger bus after an 18-hour ride south from the eastern Venezuelan community they desperately wanted to leave.

    The parents, with minds still muzzy from sleep, retrieved two duffel bags and assessed needs before entering the station: Diaper change for the 1-year-old. Restrooms for the 2-, 4- and 6-year-old. Directions to Brazil.

    “Taxi? Taxi?” hawkish cab drivers asked everyone walking through the Santa Elena de Uairen station, where thousands of people every month walk through Venezuelan territory one last time. Roughly a half hour later, the Gonzalez family, like dozens of others every day, became migrants for the first time when they exited a taxi in Pacaraima, Brazil.

    More than 7.2 million people have left Venezuela since the country’s political, economic and social crisis began last decade. Most have gone to Spanish-speaking countries of South America — with 2.4 million in Colombia alone — and many to the U.S. and Spain.

    Further down the list of destinations has been Venezuela’s Portuguese-speaking, next-door neighbor: Brazil.

    But Brazil has become a popular choice for many Venezuelans partly because of a five-year-old program that offers eligible applicants work permits and even free flights to faraway parts of the huge country. Approvals into the program have surged in the post-pandemic period.

    “I want to give well-being to my children,” said Gonzalez, who began planning to migrate in October after witnessing violent clashes around the gold mine where he worked.

    “There is no life” in Venezuela, he said, because if the family stays there the children “are not going to study, they are not going to have a future.”

    The Gonzalez family is applying for Brazil’s “interiorization” program, launched in 2018 to ease pressure on the country’s far northern state of Roraima as it dealt with Venezuelans flowing across the border after food and medicine shortages at home became acute.

    The program moves the migrants to other cities with better economic opportunities, especially in the country’s rich southern states. It has taken in about 100,000 of the 426,000 Venezuelans who have migrated to Brazil during the crisis — with the highest monthly rate so far in March of this year with 3,377.

    The Gonzalez family sold their fridge, fan, kitchen, bed and other furniture, stuffed clothes and diapers in duffel bags and backpacks, and began their migration journey from their community of San Felix with $500. They spent $90 to get to Santa Elena de Uairen and $20 to get to Pacaraima, where they applied for the program.

    They decided to migrate even though Gonzalez had one of the most lucrative jobs in Venezuela, earning about $600 in two weeks, and occasionally, up to $1,200 — far more than the country’s $5 monthly minimum wage. But mining communities are dangerous, thanks to armed groups who are believed to collude with authorities.

    “There is a lot of crime. You’re alive one moment and dead the next. You get me?” Gonzalez said said.

    Those accepted into the interiorization program receive documentation, temporary shelter, vaccines and relocation flights. It also offers classes on Brazil’s labor market, laws and rights.

    Brazil’s monthly minimum wage currently is $265. A survey of 800 households encompassing 3,529 Venezuelans living in Brazil in June and July of last year showed that 76% of them earned up to two minimum wages.

    Applicants must submit paperwork, and undergo a physical and interviews.

    On an early April morning, Maria Rodriguez, her father, husband, daughter, two sons, twin grandsons and four more relatives were among hundreds of people at the Pacaraima border crossing, navigating steps of the program. She laughed with an energetic grandson, but her eyes betrayed fatigue.

    At the crack of dawn, migrants form lines where they wait to get or provide information. They cheer when they or their new migrant friends are told they can hop on waiting passenger buses headed roughly 125 miles (200 kilometers) south to Boa Vista, where they will catch flights to their new communities.

    Rodriguez’s group already had waited six weeks in Pacaraima. They had sheltered from the scorching sun under a makeshift tent and spent nights in a shelter.

    The family closed its unprofitable cheese-making business in Venezuela earlier this year and decided to join other relatives in the southern Brazilian state of Paraná, where the men plan to work in construction. Rodriguez said another of her sons already living there has done well in just a short time.

    “His children are studying in a good school, and meanwhile, I could see my other sons … struggling,” Rodriguez, 45, said while she waited for portable toilets to be cleaned for the day. “As adults, we can last all day even with just an arepa, but with those kids, how do you tell a child there’s no food?”

    Venezuela was once one of the most prosperous countries in Latin America thanks to billions in oil dollars, but mismanagement by its self-described socialist government and a decline in crude prices plunged it into crisis over the past decade. International economic sanctions meant to topple President Nicolás Maduro have worsened conditions.

    Elsewhere in the hemisphere, Venezuelans are making their second or even third migrations as economic opportunities in initial host countries dry up. Most of those coming across the border into Brazil are migrating for the first time, said the Rev. Agnaldo Pereira de Oliveira, director of Jesuit Service for Migrants and Refugees in Brazil.

    “They are people who held on until now and no longer could,” Pereira de Oliveira said. “Now come the last ones who had resisted in Venezuela out of attachment to their business, to their home. They say ’I had a job, but the living conditions no longer exist.’”

    Brazil’s interiorization program took shape after a period of tensions in the mid- to late-2010s when arriving Venezuelans strained public services in Roraima, which includes both Pacaraima and Boa Vista. At one point, a man set fire to two residences where Venezuelans lived, injuring five people.

    Brazil’s southern states like Paraná are not without challenges for Venezuelans. There they must brave much colder weather than they’re accustomed to, and lack of fluency in Portuguese can sometimes be a barrier to formal jobs, meaning some of them become street vendors and Uber drivers.

    In Boa Vista, shelters have long been available, but many adults and children sleep on sidewalks or outside a bus station. Some find the shelters overcrowded and overheated. Others do not feel safe or dislike the mandatory early wake-up.

    On the western bank of the Branco River next to Boa Vista, members of the Figuera family cook, wash clothes, splash in the water or rest under shade trees. Their hair is peppered with sand.

    Eleven-year-old Kisberlin Figuera, her father, stepmother and baby sister are on their second attempt to legally relocate to Paraná. They gave up on their first try so that the baby could be born near extended family in Carupano, Venezuela.

    Kisberlin has learned some Portuguese and become friends with other migrant girls. They joke and play tag or cards near where they sleep outside the bus station. She said she misses family but the access to water in Boa Vista — in public restrooms near a beach — is better than what she had at home.

    Sitting by the river, she imagined Paraná “full of parks, loads of food, lots of money and a lot of water to take showers and drink.”

    ____

    AP writers Carla Bridi in Brasilia and Eléonore Hughes in Rio de Janeiro contributed.

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  • National Poll: 2 in 3 parents not confident they can tell whether used children’s equipment is safe

    National Poll: 2 in 3 parents not confident they can tell whether used children’s equipment is safe

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    Newswise — Cribs, strollers and other infant and child equipment can be expensive and most families in a new national poll agree that it’s wasteful to buy these items new when they’re needed for such a short time.

    But while half of parents say they have used pre-owned equipment for babies and young children, two in three acknowledge that it’s difficult to always know whether it’s safe for their child, according to the University of Michigan Health C.S. Mott Children’s Hospital National Poll on Children’s Health.

    “Used child essentials are often more cost-effective, environmentally friendly and convenient,” said Mott Poll co-director Sarah Clark. “However, many parents in our poll weren’t completely confident they could identify safety concerns, such as unsafe wear and tear, recalls or hygiene issues.”

    Half of parents polled say they are only comfortable using used infant and child equipment from family or close friends while a little less than half are also OK with items bought at resale shops and yard sales.

    Parents most commonly used pre-owned cribs and highchairs, followed by outdoor play structures, strollers, playpens and bath seats, according to the poll report, which is based on responses from 932 parents with at least one child aged 0-7 surveyed in February 2023. Parents are least likely to report using second hand infant car seats or booster seats.

    “Regardless of whether they receive the item from someone they know well or from a garage sale, parents should take diligent steps to make sure the equipment meets current safety standards and is safe for their child,” Clark said.

    “Parents should keep in mind that safety regulations are constantly evolving as research identifies features that pose a risk of injury,” she added. “This is particularly important when it comes to cribs, one of the most common types of pre-owned equipment. It is likely that some parents using pre-owned cribs may not be aware of how safety standards have changed.”

    Most parents say that when they receive or buy pre-owned equipment, they are very likely to inspect it for signs of damage and sanitize it. But just half of parents are as likely to do an Internet search for instructions on how to set up and use the equipment or for information about product recalls.

    “If parents don’t properly follow assembly instructions, cribs, strollers and playsets can collapse or malfunction, potentially causing serious injuries to the child,” Clark said.

    “Before allowing a child to use a pre-owned item, it’s also essential to check for product recalls, which mean a manufacturer has asked customers to return or stop using the product due to a discovered safety hazard.”

    Four percent of parents polled are not comfortable using any pre-owned equipment and three-quarters say they’d prefer to buy new equipment to make sure it’s safe for their child.

    But budget concerns can be a barrier, especially since families often require duplicate pieces of equipment to support their child’s sleep, transportation, and other daily activities at grandparents’ or babysitters’ homes.

    Parents with household incomes under $100,000 are more likely to say they have used pre-owned equipment compared to those over $100,000 (58% vs 48%.)

    Most parents also say they themselves have donated or sold child health and safety equipment, most often to a family member or friend (74%) or a charitable organization (52%), as well as at a garage sale (35%) or to a children’s resale shop (33%). Another 19% say they have never shared or sold pre-owned equipment.

    “Before passing on an item to another family, parents should ensure it’s safe and in good working order,” Clark said. “If not, parents should dispose of the equipment to avoid risking injury of another child.”

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    Michigan Medicine – University of Michigan

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  • Child social media stars have few protections. Illinois aims to fix that

    Child social media stars have few protections. Illinois aims to fix that

    [ad_1]

    CHICAGO — Holed up at home during the pandemic lockdown three years ago, 13-year-old Shreya Nallamothu was scrolling through social media when she noticed a pattern: Children even younger than her were the stars — dancing, cracking one-liners and being generally adorable.

    “It seemed innocuous to me at first,” Nallamothu said.

    But as she watched more and more posts of kids pushing products or their mishaps going viral, she started to wonder: Who is looking out for them?

    “I realized that there’s a lot of exploitation that can happen within the world of ‘kidfluencing,’” said Nallamothu, referring to the monetization of social media content featuring children. “And I realized that there was absolutely zero legislation in place to protect them.”

    Illinois lawmakers aim to change that by making their state what they say will be the first in the country to create protections for child social media influencers. Nallamothu, now 15, raised her concerns to Illinois state Sen. David Koehler of Peoria, who then set the legislation in motion.

    The Illinois bill would entitle child influencers under the age of 16 to a percentage of earnings based on how often they appear on video blogs or online content that generates at least 10 cents per view. To qualify, the content must be created in Illinois, and kids would have to be featured in at least 30% of the content in a 30-day-period.

    Video bloggers — or vloggers — would be responsible for maintaining records of kids’ appearances and must set aside gross earnings for the child in a trust account for when they turn 18, otherwise the child can sue.

    The bill passed the state Senate unanimously in March, and is scheduled to be considered by the House this week. If it wins approval, the bill will go back to the Senate for a final vote before it makes its way to Gov. J.B. Pritzker, who said he intends to sign it in the coming months.

    Family-style vlogs can feature children as early as birth and recount milestones and family events — the wholesome clips that Nallamothu had been initially scrolling through.

    But experts say the commercialized “ sharenthood ” industry, which can earn content creators tens of thousands of dollars per brand deal, is underregulated and can even cause harm.

    “As we see influencers and content creators becoming more and more of a viable career path for young people, we have to remember that this is a place where the law has not caught up to practice,” said Jessica Maddox, a University of Alabama professor who studies social media platforms.

    She added that child influencers “are in desperate need of the same protections that have been afforded to other child workers and entertainers.”

    The Illinois bill is modeled largely after California’s 1939 Jackie Coogan law, named for the silent film-era child actor who sued his parents for squandering his earnings. Coogan laws now exist in several states and require parents to set aside a portion of child entertainers’ earnings for when they reach adulthood.

    Other states have tried to pass laws to regulate against potential child exploitation on social media without success. A 2018 California child labor bill included a social media advertising provision that was removed by the time it was passed, and Washington’s 2023 bill stalled in committee.

    Across the Atlantic, France passed a law in 2020 that entitles child influencers under 16 to a portion of their revenue, as well as “the right to forget,” which means video platforms must withdraw the images of the child at the minor’s request. Parental consent is not needed.

    Illinois’ own bill underwent several changes during the legislative session that watered down its reach, including stripping out a provision allowing child influencers to request deletion of content once they reached the age of 18, and requiring family vloggers to register their channels.

    Still, Chicago-based Tyler Diers, the Midwest executive director of technology trade association Technet, which opposed the bill before the changes but is now neutral, said that when one state legislature takes up an issue, others tend to follow, “and oftentimes perfect what the first state did.”

    Nallamothu emphasized that the Illinois bill isn’t aimed at “parents posting their kids on Facebook for their close family and friends,” or even a funny clip that went viral.

    “This is for families who make their income off of child vlogging and family vlogging,” she said.

    Many social media platforms — including Facebook, Instagram and TikTok — don’t allow children to have accounts until they’re at least 13 years old. But that hasn’t stopped them from appearing on social media. And the internet is littered with examples of children being showcased for financial gain — and the harm it has caused as a consequence.

    In 2019, an Arizona mother was accused of torturing her seven adopted children for subpar performances in their popular YouTube series, Fantastic Adventures; a Maryland couple who posted “prank” videos of themselves screaming at their children and breaking their toys lost custody and were sentenced to five years of probation for child neglect.

    Another YouTube couple filmed every step of their family’s process of adopting a young child from China with autism, only to eventually place him in a new home.

    Chris McCarty, an 18-year-old college student who founded Quit Clicking Kids, an advocacy organization focused on protecting minors being monetized online, and who was the force behind the bill in Washington, noted that “this issue is not going away.”

    “Once these kids start growing up, the true extent of the damage inflicted by monetized family channels will be realized,” McCarty said at a hearing for the Washington bill in February.

    TikToker Bobbi Althoff is the mother of two little girls she lovingly refers to as “Richard” and “Concrete” to her 3.7 million followers. Althoff used to share her older daughter’s face and real name online, but stopped after people made rude comments about her.

    “I kept thinking about my daughter growing up to read these things, and it really upset me because I hate reading things like that about myself,” she said.

    When she shared her decision on Instagram, she lost thousands of followers and received backlash.

    “A lot of people were supportive, but there were definitely a lot of people that were very strange about it,” Althoff said, describing how some viewers seemed to feel like “they had a relationship with my daughter… and wanted to keep seeing her grow.”

    Although TikTok-famous tots are not quite old enough to reflect on their experiences, child reality TV stars of the last decade can offer comparable insight on how it feels to be on the other side of the camera.

    Ohio-based Jason Welage enjoyed his time as a preteen on TruTV’s 2015 reality show Kart Life, which followed families in the world of go-kart racing. Now 20, Welage says some of the less pleasant aspects have followed him into adulthood.

    “When you Google the show, the first clip that comes up on YouTube is me coming off the track and crying,” he said. “I still hear about it to this day.”

    His parents funneled the $10,000 he earned on the show back into his racing, which can cost families up to $150,000 a year, according to his mother, Meghan, who, like her son, supports the child influencer legislation in Illinois and hopes similar laws will be implemented in other states or even federally.

    For children appearing on social media or TV, “it’s definitely work for them,” she said. Her son “wanted to go play, but instead he had to go sit on a stool in our motorhome and do interviews.”

    “There should be something to compensate the child for what they are going through or what they have to do,” she said.

    ___

    AP Staff Writer Elaine Ganley in Paris contributed to this report.

    ___

    Savage is a corps member for the Associated Press/Report for America Statehouse News Initiative. Report for America is a nonprofit national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on undercovered issues.

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    Source link

  • Child social media stars have few protections. Illinois aims to fix that

    Child social media stars have few protections. Illinois aims to fix that

    [ad_1]

    CHICAGO — Holed up at home during the pandemic lockdown three years ago, 13-year-old Shreya Nallamothu was scrolling through social media when she noticed a pattern: Children even younger than her were the stars — dancing, cracking one-liners and being generally adorable.

    “It seemed innocuous to me at first,” Nallamothu said.

    But as she watched more and more posts of kids pushing products or their mishaps going viral, she started to wonder: Who is looking out for them?

    “I realized that there’s a lot of exploitation that can happen within the world of ‘kidfluencing,’” said Nallamothu, referring to the monetization of social media content featuring children. “And I realized that there was absolutely zero legislation in place to protect them.”

    Illinois lawmakers aim to change that by making their state what they say will be the first in the country to create protections for child social media influencers. Nallamothu, now 15, raised her concerns to Illinois state Sen. David Koehler of Peoria, who then set the legislation in motion.

    The Illinois bill would entitle child influencers under the age of 16 to a percentage of earnings based on how often they appear on video blogs or online content that generates at least 10 cents per view. To qualify, the content must be created in Illinois, and kids would have to be featured in at least 30% of the content in a 30-day-period.

    Video bloggers — or vloggers — would be responsible for maintaining records of kids’ appearances and must set aside gross earnings for the child in a trust account for when they turn 18, otherwise the child can sue.

    The bill passed the state Senate unanimously in March, and is scheduled to be considered by the House this week. If it wins approval, the bill will go back to the Senate for a final vote before it makes its way to Gov. J.B. Pritzker, who said he intends to sign it in the coming months.

    Family-style vlogs can feature children as early as birth and recount milestones and family events — the wholesome clips that Nallamothu had been initially scrolling through.

    But experts say the commercialized “ sharenthood ” industry, which can earn content creators tens of thousands of dollars per brand deal, is underregulated and can even cause harm.

    “As we see influencers and content creators becoming more and more of a viable career path for young people, we have to remember that this is a place where the law has not caught up to practice,” said Jessica Maddox, a University of Alabama professor who studies social media platforms.

    She added that child influencers “are in desperate need of the same protections that have been afforded to other child workers and entertainers.”

    The Illinois bill is modeled largely after California’s 1939 Jackie Coogan law, named for the silent film-era child actor who sued his parents for squandering his earnings. Coogan laws now exist in several states and require parents to set aside a portion of child entertainers’ earnings for when they reach adulthood.

    Other states have tried to pass laws to regulate against potential child exploitation on social media without success. A 2018 California child labor bill included a social media advertising provision that was removed by the time it was passed, and Washington’s 2023 bill stalled in committee.

    Across the Atlantic, France passed a law in 2020 that entitles child influencers under 16 to a portion of their revenue, as well as “the right to forget,” which means video platforms must withdraw the images of the child at the minor’s request. Parental consent is not needed.

    Illinois’ own bill underwent several changes during the legislative session that watered down its reach, including stripping out a provision allowing child influencers to request deletion of content once they reached the age of 18, and requiring family vloggers to register their channels.

    Still, Chicago-based Tyler Diers, the Midwest executive director of technology trade association Technet, which opposed the bill before the changes but is now neutral, said that when one state legislature takes up an issue, others tend to follow, “and oftentimes perfect what the first state did.”

    Nallamothu emphasized that the Illinois bill isn’t aimed at “parents posting their kids on Facebook for their close family and friends,” or even a funny clip that went viral.

    “This is for families who make their income off of child vlogging and family vlogging,” she said.

    Many social media platforms — including Facebook, Instagram and TikTok — don’t allow children to have accounts until they’re at least 13 years old. But that hasn’t stopped them from appearing on social media. And the internet is littered with examples of children being showcased for financial gain — and the harm it has caused as a consequence.

    In 2019, an Arizona mother was accused of torturing her seven adopted children for subpar performances in their popular YouTube series, Fantastic Adventures; a Maryland couple who posted “prank” videos of themselves screaming at their children and breaking their toys lost custody and were sentenced to five years of probation for child neglect.

    Another YouTube couple filmed every step of their family’s process of adopting a young child from China with autism, only to eventually place him in a new home.

    Chris McCarty, an 18-year-old college student who founded Quit Clicking Kids, an advocacy organization focused on protecting minors being monetized online, and who was the force behind the bill in Washington, noted that “this issue is not going away.”

    “Once these kids start growing up, the true extent of the damage inflicted by monetized family channels will be realized,” McCarty said at a hearing for the Washington bill in February.

    TikToker Bobbi Althoff is the mother of two little girls she lovingly refers to as “Richard” and “Concrete” to her 3.7 million followers. Althoff used to share her older daughter’s face and real name online, but stopped after people made rude comments about her.

    “I kept thinking about my daughter growing up to read these things, and it really upset me because I hate reading things like that about myself,” she said.

    When she shared her decision on Instagram, she lost thousands of followers and received backlash.

    “A lot of people were supportive, but there were definitely a lot of people that were very strange about it,” Althoff said, describing how some viewers seemed to feel like “they had a relationship with my daughter… and wanted to keep seeing her grow.”

    Although TikTok-famous tots are not quite old enough to reflect on their experiences, child reality TV stars of the last decade can offer comparable insight on how it feels to be on the other side of the camera.

    Ohio-based Jason Welage enjoyed his time as a preteen on TruTV’s 2015 reality show Kart Life, which followed families in the world of go-kart racing. Now 20, Welage says some of the less pleasant aspects have followed him into adulthood.

    “When you Google the show, the first clip that comes up on YouTube is me coming off the track and crying,” he said. “I still hear about it to this day.”

    His parents funneled the $10,000 he earned on the show back into his racing, which can cost families up to $150,000 a year, according to his mother, Meghan, who, like her son, supports the child influencer legislation in Illinois and hopes similar laws will be implemented in other states or even federally.

    For children appearing on social media or TV, “it’s definitely work for them,” she said. Her son “wanted to go play, but instead he had to go sit on a stool in our motorhome and do interviews.”

    “There should be something to compensate the child for what they are going through or what they have to do,” she said.

    ___

    AP Staff Writer Elaine Ganley in Paris contributed to this report.

    ___

    Savage is a corps member for the Associated Press/Report for America Statehouse News Initiative. Report for America is a nonprofit national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on undercovered issues.

    [ad_2]

    Source link

  • Child social media stars have few protections. Illinois aims to fix that

    Child social media stars have few protections. Illinois aims to fix that

    [ad_1]

    CHICAGO — Holed up at home during the pandemic lockdown three years ago, 13-year-old Shreya Nallamothu was scrolling through social media when she noticed a pattern: Children even younger than her were the stars — dancing, cracking one-liners and being generally adorable.

    “It seemed innocuous to me at first,” Nallamothu said.

    But as she watched more and more posts of kids pushing products or their mishaps going viral, she started to wonder: Who is looking out for them?

    “I realized that there’s a lot of exploitation that can happen within the world of ‘kidfluencing,’” said Nallamothu, referring to the monetization of social media content featuring children. “And I realized that there was absolutely zero legislation in place to protect them.”

    Illinois lawmakers aim to change that by making their state what they say will be the first in the country to create protections for child social media influencers. Nallamothu, now 15, raised her concerns to Illinois state Sen. David Koehler of Peoria, who then set the legislation in motion.

    The Illinois bill would entitle child influencers under the age of 16 to a percentage of earnings based on how often they appear on video blogs or online content that generates at least 10 cents per view. To qualify, the content must be created in Illinois, and kids would have to be featured in at least 30% of the content in a 30-day-period.

    Video bloggers — or vloggers — would be responsible for maintaining records of kids’ appearances and must set aside gross earnings for the child in a trust account for when they turn 18, otherwise the child can sue.

    The bill passed the state Senate unanimously in March, and is scheduled to be considered by the House this week. If it wins approval, the bill will go back to the Senate for a final vote before it makes its way to Gov. J.B. Pritzker, who said he intends to sign it in the coming months.

    Family-style vlogs can feature children as early as birth and recount milestones and family events — the wholesome clips that Nallamothu had been initially scrolling through.

    But experts say the commercialized “ sharenthood ” industry, which can earn content creators tens of thousands of dollars per brand deal, is underregulated and can even cause harm.

    “As we see influencers and content creators becoming more and more of a viable career path for young people, we have to remember that this is a place where the law has not caught up to practice,” said Jessica Maddox, a University of Alabama professor who studies social media platforms.

    She added that child influencers “are in desperate need of the same protections that have been afforded to other child workers and entertainers.”

    The Illinois bill is modeled largely after California’s 1939 Jackie Coogan law, named for the silent film-era child actor who sued his parents for squandering his earnings. Coogan laws now exist in several states and require parents to set aside a portion of child entertainers’ earnings for when they reach adulthood.

    Other states have tried to pass laws to regulate against potential child exploitation on social media without success. A 2018 California child labor bill included a social media advertising provision that was removed by the time it was passed, and Washington’s 2023 bill stalled in committee.

    Across the Atlantic, France passed a law in 2020 that entitles child influencers under 16 to a portion of their revenue, as well as “the right to forget,” which means video platforms must withdraw the images of the child at the minor’s request. Parental consent is not needed.

    Illinois’ own bill underwent several changes during the legislative session that watered down its reach, including stripping out a provision allowing child influencers to request deletion of content once they reached the age of 18, and requiring family vloggers to register their channels.

    Still, Chicago-based Tyler Diers, the Midwest executive director of technology trade association Technet, which opposed the bill before the changes but is now neutral, said that when one state legislature takes up an issue, others tend to follow, “and oftentimes perfect what the first state did.”

    Nallamothu emphasized that the Illinois bill isn’t aimed at “parents posting their kids on Facebook for their close family and friends,” or even a funny clip that went viral.

    “This is for families who make their income off of child vlogging and family vlogging,” she said.

    Many social media platforms — including Facebook, Instagram and TikTok — don’t allow children to have accounts until they’re at least 13 years old. But that hasn’t stopped them from appearing on social media. And the internet is littered with examples of children being showcased for financial gain — and the harm it has caused as a consequence.

    In 2019, an Arizona mother was accused of torturing her seven adopted children for subpar performances in their popular YouTube series, Fantastic Adventures; a Maryland couple who posted “prank” videos of themselves screaming at their children and breaking their toys lost custody and were sentenced to five years of probation for child neglect.

    Another YouTube couple filmed every step of their family’s process of adopting a young child from China with autism, only to eventually place him in a new home.

    Chris McCarty, an 18-year-old college student who founded Quit Clicking Kids, an advocacy organization focused on protecting minors being monetized online, and who was the force behind the bill in Washington, noted that “this issue is not going away.”

    “Once these kids start growing up, the true extent of the damage inflicted by monetized family channels will be realized,” McCarty said at a hearing for the Washington bill in February.

    TikToker Bobbi Althoff is the mother of two little girls she lovingly refers to as “Richard” and “Concrete” to her 3.7 million followers. Althoff used to share her older daughter’s face and real name online, but stopped after people made rude comments about her.

    “I kept thinking about my daughter growing up to read these things, and it really upset me because I hate reading things like that about myself,” she said.

    When she shared her decision on Instagram, she lost thousands of followers and received backlash.

    “A lot of people were supportive, but there were definitely a lot of people that were very strange about it,” Althoff said, describing how some viewers seemed to feel like “they had a relationship with my daughter… and wanted to keep seeing her grow.”

    Although TikTok-famous tots are not quite old enough to reflect on their experiences, child reality TV stars of the last decade can offer comparable insight on how it feels to be on the other side of the camera.

    Ohio-based Jason Welage enjoyed his time as a preteen on TruTV’s 2015 reality show Kart Life, which followed families in the world of go-kart racing. Now 20, Welage says some of the less pleasant aspects have followed him into adulthood.

    “When you Google the show, the first clip that comes up on YouTube is me coming off the track and crying,” he said. “I still hear about it to this day.”

    His parents funneled the $10,000 he earned on the show back into his racing, which can cost families up to $150,000 a year, according to his mother, Meghan, who, like her son, supports the child influencer legislation in Illinois and hopes similar laws will be implemented in other states or even federally.

    For children appearing on social media or TV, “it’s definitely work for them,” she said. Her son “wanted to go play, but instead he had to go sit on a stool in our motorhome and do interviews.”

    “There should be something to compensate the child for what they are going through or what they have to do,” she said.

    ___

    AP Staff Writer Elaine Ganley in Paris contributed to this report.

    ___

    Savage is a corps member for the Associated Press/Report for America Statehouse News Initiative. Report for America is a nonprofit national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on undercovered issues.

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  • Off-grid solar brings light, time and income to remotest villages

    Off-grid solar brings light, time and income to remotest villages

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    LAINDEHA, Indonesia — As Tamar Ana Jawa wove a red sarong in the fading sunlight, her neighbor switched on a light bulb dangling from the sloping tin roof. It was just one bulb powered by a small solar panel, but in this remote village that means a lot. In some of the world’s most remote places, off-grid solar systems are bringing villagers like Jawa more hours in the day, more money and more social gatherings.

    Before electricity came to the village a bit less than two years ago, the day ended when the sun went down. Villagers in Laindeha, on the island of Sumba in eastern Indonesia, would set aside the mats they were weaving or coffee they were sorting to sell at the market as the light faded.

    A few families who could afford them would start noisy generators that rumbled into the night, emitting plumes of smoke. Some people wired lightbulbs to old car batteries, which would quickly die or burn out appliances, as they had no regulator. Children sometimes studied by makeshift oil lamps, but these occasionally burned down homes when knocked over by the wind.

    That’s changed since grassroots social enterprise projects have brought small, individual solar panel systems to Laindeha and villages like it across the island.

    For Jawa, it means much-needed extra income. When her husband died of a stroke in December 2022, Jawa wasn’t sure how she would pay for her children’s schooling. But when a neighbor got electric lighting shortly after, she realized she could continue weaving clothes for the market late into the evening.

    “It used to be dark at night, now it’s bright until morning,” the 30-year old mother of two said, carefully arranging and pushing red threads at the loom. “So tonight I work … to pay for the children.”

    Around the world, hundreds of millions of people live in communities without regular access to power, and off-grid solar systems like these are bringing limited access to electricity to places like these years before power grids reach them.

    Some 775 million people globally lacked access to electricity in 2022, according to the International Energy Agency. Sub-Saharan Africa and South Asia are home to some of the largest populations without access to electricity. Not having electricity at home keeps people in poverty, the U.N. and World Bank wrote in a 2021 report. It’s hard for very poor people to get electricity, according to the report, and it’s hard for people who don’t have it to participate in the modern economy.

    Indonesia has brought electricity to millions of people in recent years, going from 85% to nearly 97% coverage between 2005 and 2020, according to World Bank data. But there are still more than half a million people in Indonesia living in places the grid doesn’t reach.

    While barriers still remain, experts say off-grid solar programs on the island could be replicated across the vast archipelago nation, bringing renewable energy to remote communities.

    “Off-grid solar there plays an important role in that it will deliver clean electricity directly to those who are unelectrified,” said Daniel Kurniawan, a solar policy analyst at the Institute for Essential Services Reform.

    Now, villagers frequently gather in the evening to continue the day’s work, gather to watch television shows on cellphones charged by the panels and help children do homework in light bright enough to read.

    “I couldn’t really study at night before,” said Antonius Pekambani, a 17-year old student in Ndapaymi village, east Sumba. “But now I can.”

    Solar power is still fairly rare in Indonesia. While the country has targeted more solar as part of its climate goals, there has been limited progress due to regulations that don’t allow households to sell power back to the grid, ruling out a way of defraying the cost that has helped people afford solar in other parts of the world.

    That’s where grassroots organizations like Sumba Sustainable Solutions, based in eastern Sumba since 2019, saw potential to help.

    Working with international donors to help subsidize the cost, it provides imported home solar systems, which can power light bulbs and charge cellphones, for monthly payments equivalent to $3.50 over three years.

    The organization also offers solar-powered appliances such as wireless lamps and grinding machines. It said it has distributed over 3,020 solar light systems and 62 mills across the island, reaching more than 3,000 homes.

    Imelda Pindi Mbitu, a 46-year-old mother of five living in Walatungga, said she used to spend whole days grinding corn kernels and coffee beans between two rocks to sell at the local market; now, she takes it to a solar-powered mill shared by the village.

    “With manual milling, if I start in the morning I can only finish in the afternoon. I can’t do anything else,” she said sitting in her wooden home. “If you use the machine, it’s faster. So now I can do other things.”

    Similar schemes in other places, including Bangladesh and sub-Saharan Africa, have helped provide electricity for millions, according to the World Bank.

    But some smaller off-grid solar systems like these don’t provide the same amount of power as grid access. While cellphones, light bulbs and mills remain charged, the systems don’t generate enough power for a large sound system or a church.

    Off-grid solar projects face hurdles too, said Jetty Arlenda, an engineer with Sumba Sustainable Solutions .

    The organization’s scheme is heavily reliant upon donors to subsidize the cost of solar equipment, which many rural residents would be unable to afford at their market cost. Villagers without off-grid solar panels are stuck on waitlists while Sumba Sustainable Solutions looks for more funding. They’re hoping for support from Indonesia’s $20 billion Just Energy Transition Partnership deal, which is being negotiated by numerous developed nations and international financial institutions.

    There’s also been issues with recipients failing to make payments, especially as the island deals with locust outbreaks diminishing crops and livelihoods of villagers. And when solar systems break, they need imported parts that can be hard to come by.

    But for now, villagers like Jawa said the solar systems are making a big difference.

    “I’m grateful for this lamp,” she said, sitting at the loom and nodding towards the hanging bulb. “It will be bright all night.”

    ___

    Associated Press climate and environmental coverage receives support from several private foundations. See more about AP’s climate initiative here. The AP is solely responsible for all content.

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  • End of Title 42 hasn’t stopped migrants’ push north to US from across the Americas

    End of Title 42 hasn’t stopped migrants’ push north to US from across the Americas

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    MEXICO CITY — For weeks, Solangel Contreras raced.

    The Venezuelan migrant and her family of 22 trudged through the dense jungles of the Darien Gap and hopped borders across Central America.

    They joined thousands of other migrants from across the Hemisphere in a scramble to reach the United States-Mexico border and request asylum.

    They raced, unsure what changing migratory rules and the end of a pandemic-era border restriction, Title 42, would mean for their chances at a new life in the U.S.

    But after missing that cutoff, robbed in Guatemala and crossing into Mexico shortly after the program ended Thursday night, Contreras, 33, had only one certainty in her mind: “We’re going to keep going.”

    Confusion has rippled from the U.S.-Mexico border to migrant routes across the Americas, as migrants scramble to understand complex and ever-changing policies. And while Title 42 has come to an end, the flow of migrants headed north has not.

    From the rolling mountains and jungles in Central America to the tops of trains roaring through Mexico, migrants from Venezuela, Cuba, Haiti, Colombia, Nicaragua, Ecuador and beyond push forward on their journeys.

    “We’ve already done everything humanly possible to get where we are,” Contreras said, resting in a park near a river dividing Mexico and Guatemala.

    The problem, say experts, is that while migration laws are changing, root causes pushing people to flee their countries in record numbers only stretch on.

    “It doesn’t appear to be the case that this is going to curb the push or pull factors for migration from Central America, South America and other parts of the world,” said Falko Ernst, senior analyst for International Crisis Group in Mexico. “The incentives for people to flee and seek refuge in safer havens in the United States are still in place.”

    For Contreras, that push came after her brother was killed in Ecuador for not paying extorsions to a criminal group. The family had been living in a small coastal town in the south after fleeing economic crisis in Venezuela two years earlier.

    Others, like 25-year-old migrant Gerardo Escobar left in search of a better future after struggling to make ends meet in Venezuela like Contreras’ family.

    Escobar trekked along train tracks Friday morning just outside Mexico City, with 60 other migrants, including families and small children. They hoped to climb aboard a train migrants have used for decades to carry them on their dangerous journey.

    Escobar was among many to say he had no clue what the end of Title 42 would mean, and he didn’t particularly care.

    “My dream is to get a job, eat well, help my family in Venezuela,” he said. “My dream is to move forward.”

    Despite misinformation prompting a rush to the border last week, analysts and those providing refuge to migrants said that they don’t expect new policies to radically stem the flow of migrants.

    Title 42 allowed authorities to use a public health law to rapidly expel migrants crossing over the border, denying them the right to seek asylum. U.S. officials turned away migrants more than 2.8 million times under the order.

    New rules strip away that ability to simply expel asylum seekers, but add stricter consequences to those not going through official migratory channels. Migrants caught crossing illegally will not be allowed to return for five years and can face criminal prosecution if they do.

    The Biden administration has also set caps on the amount of migrants allowed to seek asylum.

    At the same time, Biden is likely to continue American pressure on Mexico and other countries to make it harder for migrants to move north.

    Mexico’s Secretary of Foreign Affairs Marcelo Ebrard said they don’t agree with the Biden administration’s decision to continue to put up migratory barriers.

    “Our position is the opposite, but we respect their (US) jurisdiction,” Ebrard said.

    Yet in a news briefing on Friday, he announced Mexico would carry out speedier deportations, and that it would no longer give migrants papers to cross through Mexico.

    While the new rules likely won’t act as a strong deterrent, Ebrard and the head of a migrant shelter in Guatemala said they saw a drop in the number of migrants they encountered immediately following the rush on the U.S. border. Though the shelter leader said numbers have been slowly picking up.

    Still, migrants continued to make it across the U.S. border, even as the new rules were announced. At a cemetery near Roma, Texas, about 60 migrants who had crossed the Rio Bravo were waiting to be processed around midnight. They included a large group of Chinese migrants who huddled for cover under a driving rain.

    Another member of the group, a Guatemalan who left her country to escape an abusive husband, crossed the river with her four-year-old son. With the rules changing, she was unsure if she’d qualify for any asylum help.

    Ernst, of International Crisis Group, warned that such measures could make the already deadly journey even more dangerous.

    “You’ll see an increase in populations that remain vulnerable for criminal groups to prey on, to recruit from and make a profit from,” he said. “It could just feed into the hands of these criminal groups.”

    Meanwhile, Contreras continues trucking forward alongside many other migrants, even with no clear pathway forward and little information about what awaits them at the border.

    It’s worth it, she said, to give a better life to small children traveling with them.

    “We’ve fought a lot for them (the kids),” she said. “All we want is to be safe, a humble home where they can study, where they can eat well. We’re not asking for much. We’re just asking for peace and safety.”

    ——

    Associated Press journalists contributed from Marco Ugarte in Huehuetoca, Mexico, Edgar H. Clemente in Tapachula, Mexico, Mark Stevenson in Mexico City, and Colleen Long in Washington. Janetsky reported from Mexico City.

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  • End of Title 42 hasn’t stopped migrants’ push north to US from across the Americas

    End of Title 42 hasn’t stopped migrants’ push north to US from across the Americas

    [ad_1]

    MEXICO CITY — For weeks, Solangel Contreras raced.

    The Venezuelan migrant and her family of 22 trudged through the dense jungles of the Darien Gap and hopped borders across Central America.

    They joined thousands of other migrants from across the Hemisphere in a scramble to reach the United States-Mexico border and request asylum.

    They raced, unsure what changing migratory rules and the end of a pandemic-era border restriction, Title 42, would mean for their chances at a new life in the U.S.

    But after missing that cutoff, robbed in Guatemala and crossing into Mexico shortly after the program ended Thursday night, Contreras, 33, had only one certainty in her mind: “We’re going to keep going.”

    Confusion has rippled from the U.S.-Mexico border to migrant routes across the Americas, as migrants scramble to understand complex and ever-changing policies. And while Title 42 has come to an end, the flow of migrants headed north has not.

    From the rolling mountains and jungles in Central America to the tops of trains roaring through Mexico, migrants from Venezuela, Cuba, Haiti, Colombia, Nicaragua, Ecuador and beyond push forward on their journeys.

    “We’ve already done everything humanly possible to get where we are,” Contreras said, resting in a park near a river dividing Mexico and Guatemala.

    The problem, say experts, is that while migration laws are changing, root causes pushing people to flee their countries in record numbers only stretch on.

    “It doesn’t appear to be the case that this is going to curb the push or pull factors for migration from Central America, South America and other parts of the world,” said Falko Ernst, senior analyst for International Crisis Group in Mexico. “The incentives for people to flee and seek refuge in safer havens in the United States are still in place.”

    For Contreras, that push came after her brother was killed in Ecuador for not paying extorsions to a criminal group. The family had been living in a small coastal town in the south after fleeing economic crisis in Venezuela two years earlier.

    Others, like 25-year-old migrant Gerardo Escobar left in search of a better future after struggling to make ends meet in Venezuela like Contreras’ family.

    Escobar trekked along train tracks Friday morning just outside Mexico City, with 60 other migrants, including families and small children. They hoped to climb aboard a train migrants have used for decades to carry them on their dangerous journey.

    Escobar was among many to say he had no clue what the end of Title 42 would mean, and he didn’t particularly care.

    “My dream is to get a job, eat well, help my family in Venezuela,” he said. “My dream is to move forward.”

    Despite misinformation prompting a rush to the border last week, analysts and those providing refuge to migrants said that they don’t expect new policies to radically stem the flow of migrants.

    Title 42 allowed authorities to use a public health law to rapidly expel migrants crossing over the border, denying them the right to seek asylum. U.S. officials turned away migrants more than 2.8 million times under the order.

    New rules strip away that ability to simply expel asylum seekers, but add stricter consequences to those not going through official migratory channels. Migrants caught crossing illegally will not be allowed to return for five years and can face criminal prosecution if they do.

    The Biden administration has also set caps on the amount of migrants allowed to seek asylum.

    At the same time, Biden is likely to continue American pressure on Mexico and other countries to make it harder for migrants to move north.

    Mexico’s Secretary of Foreign Affairs Marcelo Ebrard said they don’t agree with the Biden administration’s decision to continue to put up migratory barriers.

    “Our position is the opposite, but we respect their (US) jurisdiction,” Ebrard said.

    Yet in a news briefing on Friday, he announced Mexico would carry out speedier deportations, and that it would no longer give migrants papers to cross through Mexico.

    While the new rules likely won’t act as a strong deterrent, Ebrard and the head of a migrant shelter in Guatemala said they saw a drop in the number of migrants they encountered immediately following the rush on the U.S. border. Though the shelter leader said numbers have been slowly picking up.

    Still, migrants continued to make it across the U.S. border, even as the new rules were announced. At a cemetery near Roma, Texas, about 60 migrants who had crossed the Rio Bravo were waiting to be processed around midnight. They included a large group of Chinese migrants who huddled for cover under a driving rain.

    Another member of the group, a Guatemalan who left her country to escape an abusive husband, crossed the river with her four-year-old son. With the rules changing, she was unsure if she’d qualify for any asylum help.

    Ernst, of International Crisis Group, warned that such measures could make the already deadly journey even more dangerous.

    “You’ll see an increase in populations that remain vulnerable for criminal groups to prey on, to recruit from and make a profit from,” he said. “It could just feed into the hands of these criminal groups.”

    Meanwhile, Contreras continues trucking forward alongside many other migrants, even with no clear pathway forward and little information about what awaits them at the border.

    It’s worth it, she said, to give a better life to small children traveling with them.

    “We’ve fought a lot for them (the kids),” she said. “All we want is to be safe, a humble home where they can study, where they can eat well. We’re not asking for much. We’re just asking for peace and safety.”

    ——

    Associated Press journalists contributed from Marco Ugarte in Huehuetoca, Mexico, Edgar H. Clemente in Tapachula, Mexico, Mark Stevenson in Mexico City, and Colleen Long in Washington. Janetsky reported from Mexico City.

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  • Daughters without moms find support in each other’s grief

    Daughters without moms find support in each other’s grief

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    When my mother died suddenly 30 years ago, I was 13. I’d spend the next 20 years attempting to understand what it means not to have a mother.

    And I did this basically alone.

    Mostly, this was because my mother’s parents, who raised me, were old-fashioned folks who lived through the Dust Bowl. They didn’t discuss feelings, good or bad. I never once saw my grandfather shed a tear after his daughter died. Plus, our town was in the rural plains of Colorado, hours away from any city with services like a grief therapist, even if my grandparents had been open to that.

    But the silence around grief also was a product of the times. I am encouraged to see that now a mom’s death is generally not handled the same way it was in 1993.

    There are many kinds of support today, from the organized to the grassroots. Grief can be talked about and shared more publicly, experts say, and is acknowledged to last a long time.

    Motherless children can attend special summer camps, for instance, or Mother’s Day retreats like those hosted by the Massachusetts-based non-profit EmpowerHer, which works with girls whose mothers have died. They also link girls with mentors so they can see an older version of themselves. The group recently started working with boys and nonbinary children, too, who have lost either parent.

    “There isn’t a perfect ending,” said Cara Belvin, who founded EmpowerHer. “You can cry and scream but you can’t give up, and we hold space for a kid who is grieving.”

    Podcasts on the topic of parent loss, and support groups both virtual and in-person, have proliferated.

    “It really grew exponentially over COVID,” said Hope Edelman, author of several grief books, including the bestseller “Motherless Daughters: The Legacy of Loss,” published in 1994.

    Edelman has led motherless daughters’ groups, and her books have helped usher in a new way to live with loss. “The death of a mother affects a daughter profoundly, but what comes after can affect her as much or more,” she said.

    Edelman was 17 when her mother died in 1981, a time she has called the “dark ages” of grief, when mourning often wasn’t discussed much outside the stale office of a therapist.

    The prevailing wisdom today tends to be the “continuing bonds” theory, which says grief is to be carried, and relationships continue and change with a loved one, even after their death.

    This more engaged approach to grief has been furthered by the internet and social media.

    Ontario native Janet Gwilliam-Wright, 46, started “The Motherlove Project,” a blog and corresponding Instagram account, in 2020 to honor the 25th anniversary of her mother’s death. It has since become a place where women from around the world share stories about their late mothers; nearly 300 people have shared so far.

    “I didn’t have anywhere to grieve her — she didn’t have a grave — so I decided to make a place on the internet,” Gwilliam-Wright explained.

    “I have enormous gratitude for every woman who reaches out to me. It helps me in my grieving and has brought me a community of people I feel so connected to.”

    Mother’s Day can feel particularly isolating, said Julia Morin, 36, of Nashua, New Hampshire, who created her Instagram account “Girl_meets_grief” on Mother’s Day 2021 to connect with others who felt the same way.

    Before the internet, even though the prevailing attitude toward grief might have been less supportive, still there was often more community and family around than there is now, when many Americans lack built-in support networks.

    “And so the widespread online support gives people a broader space to share in that grief and meet people with similar experiences,” said Megan Kelleher, a historian who has studied grief and bereavement practices.

    Writing is another way motherless daughters are connecting.

    Sasha Brown-Worsham of Acton, Massachusetts, has written about losing her mom as a teenager. She penned a viral essay and followed it up with a memoir, “Namaste the Hard Way.” When Brown-Worsham turned 45, the same age her mother was when she died of breast cancer, she sought out a virtual support group of mothers without moms.

    “My daughter turned 16 at the same time, and that’s how old I was when my mom died,” she said.

    The group is a collaboration between Edelman’s Motherless Daughters and the Twin Cities-based non-profit She Climbs Mountains.

    “There’s this sense of being seen for possibly the first time in my whole life,” Brown-Worsham said.

    Life’s milestones — such as getting married or having a baby — can trigger grief. By the time I was 30, I had tricked myself into believing I was adept at ignoring my mother’s loss. That was, of course, far from true.

    It was when I had my first baby that I felt grief rise to the surface. Jealousy cropped up in unexpected ways, particularly when I saw my new mom friends with their mothers.

    It turns out, this is normal.

    “Having kids ripped me open” emotionally, said Katie Paradis, 42, of Rockport, Massachusetts, who has two girls and no mother.

    Susanna Gilbertson’s mom died a year before her daughter was born.

    “I looked around and didn’t see any support I could access,” said Gilbertson, 47, of Philadelphia.

    Along with another motherless mom, she posted fliers for a book group, reading Edelman’s “Motherless Daughters.” After the initial meeting, the women in the group wanted to keep going. They ended up meeting for seven years.

    “You get to experience, rather than be told, that you’re not alone,” said Gilbertson, now a full-time grief coach.

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  • ‘He wanted to live the American Dream’: Honduran teen dies in US immigration custody

    ‘He wanted to live the American Dream’: Honduran teen dies in US immigration custody

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    TEGUCIGALPA, Honduras (AP) — The mother of a 17-year-old boy who died this week in U.S. immigration custody demanded answers from American officials Friday, saying her son had no known illnesses and had not shown any signs of being sick before his death.

    The teenager was identified as Ángel Eduardo Maradiaga Espinoza, according to a tweet from Honduran foreign relations minister Enrique Reina. Maradiaga was detained at a facility in Safety Harbor, Florida, Reina said, and died Wednesday. His death underscored concerns about a strained immigration system as the Biden administration manages the end of asylum restrictions known as Title 42.

    His mother, Norma Saraí Espinoza Maradiaga, told The Associated Press in a phone interview that her son “wanted to live the American Dream.”

    Ángel Eduardo left his hometown of Olanchito, Honduras, on April 25, his mother said. He crossed the U.S.-Mexico border some days later and on May 5 was referred to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, which operates longer-term facilities for children who cross the border without a parent.

    That same day, he spoke to his mother for the last time, she said Friday.

    “He told me he was in a shelter and not to worry because he was in the best hands,” she said. “We only spoke two minutes, I told him goodbye and wished him the best.”

    This week, someone who identified himself only as one of her son’s friends at the shelter called her to say that when he had awakened for breakfast, Ángel Eduardo didn’t respond and was dead.

    His mother then called a person in the U.S. who was supposed to have received Ángel Eduardo, asking for help verifying the information. Hours later, that person called her back saying it was true that her son was dead.

    “I want to clear up my son’s real cause of death,” she said. He didn’t suffer from any illnesses and hadn’t been sick as far as she knew.

    “No one tells me anything. The anguish is killing me,” she said. “They say they are awaiting the autopsy results and don’t give me any other answer.”

    No cause of death was immediately available nor were circumstances of any illness or medical treatment.

    HHS said in a statement Friday that it “is deeply saddened by this tragic loss and our heart goes out to the family, with whom we are in touch.” A review of health care records was underway, as was an investigation by a medical examiner, the department said.

    White House press secretary Karine Jean-Pierre called the news “devastating” and referred questions about the investigation to HHS.

    The asylum restrictions under Title 42 expired Thursday, with President Joe Biden’s administration announcing new curbs on border crossers that went into effect Friday. Tens of thousands of people tried to cross the U.S.-Mexico border in the weeks before the expiration of Title 42, under which U.S. officials expelled many people but allowed exemptions for others, including minors crossing the border unaccompanied by a parent.

    This was the first known death of an immigrant child in custody during the Biden administration. At least six immigrant children died in U.S. custody during the administration of former President Donald Trump, during which the U.S. at times detained thousands of children above the system’s capacity.

    HHS operates long-term facilities to hold children who cross the border without a parent until they can be placed with a sponsor. HHS facilities generally have beds and facilities as well as schooling and other activities for minors, unlike Border Patrol stations and detention sites in which detainees sometimes sleep on the floor in cells.

    Advocates who oppose the detention of immigrant children say HHS facilities are not suited to hold minors for weeks or months, as sometimes happens.

    More than 8,600 children are currently in HHS custody. That number may rise sharply in the coming weeks amid the shift in border policies as well as sharply rising trends of migration across the Western Hemisphere and the traditional spike in crossings during spring and summer.

    Ángel Eduardo had studied until eighth grade before leaving school to work. Most recently he had been working as a mechanic’s assistant. He had been a standout soccer player in Olanchito in northern Honduras since he was 7 years old, his mother said.

    The teenager had hopes of reuniting with his father, who left Honduras for the U.S. years ago, and earning money to support her and two younger siblings still in Honduras, his mother said.

    He had migrated with his mother’s approval and financial support from his father in the United States, she said.

    “Since he was 10 years old he wanted to live the American Dream to see his father and have a better life,” she said. “His idea was to help me. He told me that when he was in the United States he was going to change my life.”

    ___

    Merchant reported from Washington. AP White House Correspondent Zeke Miller and AP writers Colleen Long in Washington and Christopher Sherman in Mexico City contributed to this report.

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  • Honduran teen dies in US immigration custody, weeks after crossing southern border

    Honduran teen dies in US immigration custody, weeks after crossing southern border

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    A 17-year-old boy from Honduras died this week in U.S. immigration custody

    ByNOMAAN MERCHANT Associated Press

    WASHINGTON — A 17-year-old boy from Honduras died this week in U.S. immigration custody, American and Honduran officials said Friday, underscoring concerns about a strained immigration system as the Biden administration manages the end of asylum restrictions known as Title 42.

    The teenager was identified as Ángel Eduardo Maradiaga Espinoza, according to a tweet from Honduran foreign relations minister Enrique Reina. Maradiaga was detained at a facility in Safety Harbor, Florida, Reina said.

    He entered the U.S. several weeks ago and died Wednesday, according to a U.S. official familiar with the matter who was not authorized to speak publicly and spoke on condition of anonymity.

    No cause of death was immediately available nor were circumstances of any illness or medical treatment.

    The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, which is responsible for the facility where Maradiaga was held, said in a statement that a review of health care records was underway as was an investigation by a medical examiner.

    HHS “is deeply saddened by this tragic loss and our heart goes out to the family, with whom we are in touch,” the department’s statement said.

    The asylum restrictions under Title 42 expired Thursday with President Joe Biden’s administration announcing new curbs on border crossers that went into effect Friday. Tens of thousands of people tried to cross the U.S.-Mexico border in the weeks before the expiration of Title 42, under which U.S. officials expelled many people but allowed exemptions for others, including minors crossing the border unaccompanied by a parent.

    This was the first known death of an immigrant child in custody during the Biden administration. At least six immigrant children died in U.S. custody during the administration of former President Donald Trump.

    HHS operates long-term facilities to hold children who cross the border without a parent until they can be placed with a sponsor. HHS facilities generally have beds and facilities as well as schooling and other activities for minors, unlike Border Patrol stations and detention sites in which detainees sometimes sleep on the floor in cells.

    Advocates who oppose the detention of immigrant children say HHS facilities are not suited to hold minors for weeks or months as sometimes happens.

    More than 8,600 children are currently in HHS custody. That number may rise sharply in the coming weeks amid the shift in border policies as well as sharply rising trends of migration across the Western Hemisphere and the traditional spike in crossings during spring and summer.

    ___

    AP White House Correspondent Zeke Miller contributed to this report.

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  • Some scenes from the US-Mexico border, where immigration rules are set to change

    Some scenes from the US-Mexico border, where immigration rules are set to change

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    From El Paso and Ciudad Juarez to San Diego and Tijuana, migrants were massing Thursday along some sections of the U.S.-Mexico border in a last attempt to cross into the United States in the hours before the pandemic-era health rule known as Title 42 ends.

    Some migrants who have traveled from Venezuela, Ecuador, Colombia, Peru and Central America fear that it could be harder for them to stay on U.S. soil once the restrictions are lifted.

    Here are some of the scenes playing out along the 1,950-mile (3,140-kilometer) international boundary:

    ___

    María José Durán, a 24-year-old student from Venezuela, was on the verge of tears as she sat on a riverbank in Matamoros, Mexico.

    Mexican immigration officials were trying to move migrants to an improvised camp and away from a spot where they could wade across the Rio Grande.

    Durán said she dropped out of college when her parents could no longer afford it and set out for the U.S. with a group of friends and relatives. They crossed the treacherous Darien Gap dividing Colombia and Panama and then a half-dozen more countries before arriving at the U.S. border.

    “I don’t know what to think now, having made such a difficult journey to now find ourselves with this,” she said, motioning toward the opposite shore where at least a dozen Texas state troopers with rifles stood behind concertina wire.

    From the Mexico side, Texas National Guard members could be seen reinforcing a stretch of razor wire to keep migrants out.

    Later, Durán could be seen walking along the levee with other migrants who had crossed the Rio Grande and passed the barbed wire.

    ___

    Hundreds of migrants lined up next to the border wall in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, were still crossing over Thursday morning and being received by the U.S. Border Patrol. The numbers were notably lower than in recent days.

    Ecuadorians Washington Javier Vaca and his wife, Paulina Congo, along with their two children, ages 14 and 7, knew nothing about the change in rules.

    “And now will it be better or worse for us?” asked Congo. “We asked for asylum in Mexico and after four months they denied us.”

    A Salvadoran man who gave his name as David moved away from the border and back into Ciudad Juarez for fear of being deported.

    ___

    Authorities in the remote desert community of Yuma, Arizona, expressed alarm after the average daily number of migrant arrivals grew this week from 300 to 1,000.

    Hundreds who entered the Yuma area by crossing the Colorado River early Thursday surrendered to border agents, who later loaded adults and children onto buses.

    Mayor Doug Nicholls asked that the federal government declare a national disaster so that Federal Emergency Management Agency resources and National Guard troops can be rushed to his and other small border communities.

    Most migrants are transported to shelters operated by nonprofit organizations farther away from the border, but border officials will release them into communities if enough transportation isn’t available. Nicholls said officials have already told him they plan to release 141 processed migrants in Yuma County on Friday.

    “The question keeps coming up: ‘What now?’ I’ve been asking that question for two years, with no answers,” said Nicholls. “We are at a situation we’ve never been at before.”

    ___

    Hundreds of migrants who have been waiting days for a chance to apply for asylum lined up Thursday along the towering steel bollards separating Tijuana from San Diego.

    At one point a U.S. Border Patrol agent bent over and talked to a woman who fainted on the dusty ground.

    Others chose not not to crowd the border, instead remaining at shelters in Tijuana to wait for existing asylum appointments or trying to get them online. There were hundreds in the bright yellow buildings of the Agape Mision Mundial shelter, as more arrived at the metal gate with little more than paperwork and a few belongings.

    Daisy Bucia, 37, arrived at the shelter over three months ago with her 15-year-old daughter after fleeing Mexico’s Michoacan state due to death threats she received. The two were waiting to take a bus to the inland city of Mexicali on Saturday for an asylum appointment across the border in Calexico, California.

    ___

    Leaders of nonprofit organizations that assist asylum seekers away from the border in Arizona say they are as ready as possible for the new scenario.

    “We’ll put our best foot forward and approach this with every resource available,” said Teresa Cavendish, executive director of the Tucson shelter Casa Alitas, the state’s largest. “But it may not be enough.”

    Catholic Community Services of Southern Arizona runs Casa Alitas’ new 300-bed facility for men, as well as four other locations that also temporarily house women, families and vulnerable people for a combined capacity of over 1,000 beds.

    David Miliband, president of the International Rescue Committee, who visited the organization’s Welcome Center in Phoenix this week, expressed confidence in the agency’s ability to handle any increase in asylum seekers there. The 340-bed shelter was at less than half capacity.

    “The challenge can be managed as long as it is done in an organized and humane manner,” Miliband said.

    Beth Strano, engagement manger for the center in a quiet south Phoenix neighborhood, said: “We served 50,000 people last year and 38,000 people the year before that without any negative impact to our clients or community.”

    ___

    Smugglers helped Guatemalan Sheidi Mazariegos and her 4-year-old son get to Matamoros, Mexico, where she and the child crossed the Rio Grande on a raft.

    But Border Patrol agents took the pair into custody a week ago near Brownville, Texas. On Thursday, the 26-year-old and her son arrived back in Guatemala on one of two flights carrying a total of 387 migrants.

    “I heard on the news that there was an opportunity to enter,” said Mazariegos. “I heard it on the radio, but it was all a lie.”

    ___

    Aylin Guevara, 45, hurried her steps as she walked through the scorching desert of Ciudad Juarez toward the border.

    She was accompanied by her two children, ages 16 and 5, and her husband. The family fled their coastal city in Colombia after receiving death threats and hoped to seek refuge in the U.S.

    After spending the previous night in a hotel, they were eager to get to the border — “to get in and go with the help of God and baby Jesus,” Guevara said.

    But less than a day before the end of Title 42, when they arrived, a U.S. immigration officer said they could not pass.

    “Not anymore, it’s over,” he told them in a firm voice, instructing them to go to bridges 10 miles (16 kilometers) to their left or right.

    ___

    Associated Press journalists Gerardo Carrillo in Matamoros, Mexico, María Verza in Ciudad Juarez, Sonia Pérez D. in Guatemala City and Suman Naishadham in Tijuana contributed to this report. Snow reported from Phoenix.

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