
Maryland schools would tighten hiring checks under proposed bill
HB1025 aims to enhance transparency in the hiring process at Maryland schools.
Under the bill, Maryland school systems would be required to become associate members of the National Association of State Directors of Teacher Education and Certification.
Schools would also be required to use the NASDTEC Educator Identification Clearinghouse to screen educators.
According to NASDTEC, the Clearinghouse "maintains a database of all disciplinary actions reported by NASDTEC members and disseminates this information to all participating NASDTEC jurisdictions.
The proposed measure comes after Pikesville High School's former athletic director secured his position after making false claims on multiple resumes submitted to Baltimore County Public Schools.
Arrest of former athletic director sparks vetting concerns
Dazhon Darien, 32, was arrested and charged for allegedly using AI to impersonate former Pikesville High School Principal Eric Eiswert in a recording containing racist and antisemitic comments.
Darien allegedly created the recording to retaliate against Eiswert, who was investigating the potential mishandling of school funds by Darien. The fabricated audio, which disparaged Black students and the Jewish community, circulated widely online, causing Eiswert's temporary removal, hate messages, and school disruptions.
An FBI forensic analyst and a University of California, Berkley expert, confirmed the recording was AI-generated and manipulated.
Darien, who was found with a firearm at the airport attempting to board a flight to Houston when apprehended, faces charges including theft, stalking, disruption of school operations, and retaliation against a witness. The situation caused significant distress within the school community.
During a court hearing related to the AI impersonation case, Darien was arrested on federal charges of child pornography and exploitation. According to an indictment, federal authorities allegedly found child sex abuse material on Darien's devices, and evidence of him paying a minor for videos.
The case spurred broader concerns regarding the vetting process for school staff, with Baltimore County Council Chairman Izzy Patoka calling for increased vetting of school staff.
A Baltimore Banner investigation revealed that Darien lied on his resume to secure his job at Baltimore County Public Schools, making at least 29 false claims on four job applications using two different names.
Two resumes Darien submitted for jobs at Baltimore County schools included at least 16 claims The Banner found to be false.
"While Baltimore County Public Schools has its responsibilities to educate children, the families, they live in our districts," Patoka said. Any staff members near students "need to be vetted carefully" so this doesn't happen again, he said.
Former principal files lawsuit
Eiswert filed a lawsuit against Baltimore County Public Schools for removing him from his position even though the AI-generated recording was shown to be false.
The lawsuit, filed in early January, claims that Darien collaborated with other school system employees to frame Eiswert. He has since accepted a new post as principal of Sparrows Point Middle School.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Boston Globe
2 hours ago
- Boston Globe
‘It's not an education agency': Advocates slam school use of the court for student truancy
Advertisement From 2022 through 2025, schools asked the courts to intervene in truancy cases 5,400 times. In all, there was a 13 percent increase in districts using the court process from the 2022 to 2024 school years, according to a recent report from The proceedings don't carry fines, come with criminal charges, or threaten parents with arrest, as is done in other states. But they do haul families into often bleak juvenile court scenes, where other minors face criminal offenses and parental rights are terminated. Families might also be assigned a probation officer to help connect children and parents with support services. Child advocates said the court system is not the proper avenue to deal with truancies. It's a mistake to push families into court to solve absenteeism, they said, and they worry bringing students before judges only pushes students, especially those who are high risk, into the criminal system. Advertisement 'It's not an education agency,' Francine Sherman, a clinical professor emerita at Boston College Law School, where she founded and led its Juvenile Rights Advocacy Program, said of the court system. 'The court simply doesn't have the tools to address this particular problem.' School leaders agree courts are not their first choice to resolve truancy issues, and said they first try to help connect children and families with services such as education help and clinical mental health care. But in extreme cases, schools may need the assistance of the courts to resolve truancy cases, said Mary Bourque, a former Chelsea superintendent who serves as the executive director of the Massachusetts Association of School Superintendents. 'This is about the parent and guardians, and making sure that the parent or guardian is getting [their child] to school,' she said. 'Sometimes you do need leverage with the parent or guardian.' The court petitions, referred to as Child Requiring Assistance filings, are intended to to help connect families with services such as educational assistance and mental health programs. They can be filed by schools, police, or families. Students are considered truant when they 'willfully fail' to attend school for more than eight days in a quarter. Under state law, Conley said her B-average student had never been in trouble, yet she watched as her daughter suddenly stood before a judge, had to be represented by a lawyer, and was assigned a probation officer. Advertisement 'For her to have to go from never getting in trouble in school to that, it was traumatizing,' Conley said. Experts and education advocates agree absenteeism harms students' abilities to learn. In Massachusetts, chronic absenteeism rates remain 50 percent higher than before the pandemic. To appear before a judge for truancy, students often miss school to be brought to court. Many of the cases involve children with special needs. The petitions also disproportionately involve Black and Latino students, the child advocate's office said in its report. The danger, advocates argue, is that these court filings — which do not allege criminal behavior — can create issues for children such as post-traumatic stress disorder and negative emotional well-being, 'Not only is it traumatizing, it has clearly very adverse consequences for children,' said Jay Blitzman, a retired juvenile court judge who spent more than two decades on the bench before retiring in 2020. 'Going to courts to address these issues is not the preferred thing to do.' From Blitzman's experience, 'many of the truancy cases' that came before him appeared to involve children who did not receive appropriate school services for their disabilities and special needs. The state's Office of the Child Advocate, established by the Legislature to ensure children receive appropriate services, reviewed truancy court data Advertisement Among those calling for reform is state Senator Robyn Kennedy, a Worcester Democrat, who filed legislation this year to change the current law. The proposal includes measures such as barring children under age 12 from being involved with Child Requiring Assistance petitions, plus expanding the role of the state's existing network of family resource centers, including a requirement schools refer families to one of those centers before filing a petition with a court. Bourque, with the state school superintendent association, said a better solution to districts filing court actions is for the state to expand the number of its School administrators in some of the state's largest districts, including Boston, Worcester, Brockton, Lawrence, and Chelsea, said they typically pursue truancy cases only when other measures fail to connect children and families with support services. Such services include conducting special education evaluationsand mental health assessments, and sending letters to parents and guardians. 'In VERY rare occasions do we consider judicial intervention,' Chelsea Superintendent Almi Guajardo Abeyta said in an email. 'We do everything possible to avoid it.' The 6,100-student district filed 123 Child Requiring Assistance petitions in truancy cases from 2022-2025, but was able to reduce its rate by 44 percent to 25 in the 2024-25 school year, progress Conley said more districts should be making. In Chelsea, administrators attribute the decline in court filings to a focus on family engagement as a priority for the district, Abeyta said. Advertisement The district has more than doubled its number of family liaisons, social workers, and counselors. And it has launched a Navigator program for students with chronic absenteeism or other needs, which pairs them with a teacher, social worker, or other district staff member, she said. 'We believe that parents are our partners and do our best to work with families,' she said. Conley, whose daughter appeared in court, said the Acton-Boxborough district's decision to push the truancy case to court was a breach of trust. The March 2024 court hearing ended with an 'informal assistance agreement' signed by her daughter, her probation officer, and the judge, according to a copy reviewed by the Globe. The girl agreed to terms that required her to attend school, participate in tutoring, and cooperate with therapeutic services. About two months after the hearing, the girl's school notified the girl's probation officer and attorney it had received enough information 'to drop the CRA,' according to a brief email viewed by the Globe sent by a school vice principal. It was unclear what led to the decision. Peter Light, the district's superintendent, declined to answer Globe questions, citing student privacy laws. Conley said her family has since moved from Massachusetts. Schools need to do more to provide services for children with disabilities, she said. 'If these kids were given the tools needed to properly learn, most of these cases could go away completely,' Conley said. John Hilliard can be reached at


Los Angeles Times
2 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
A Compton family endured two killings in just eight months. Why justice is so elusive
Jessica Carter is tired of being resilient. After her brother, Richard Ware, 48, was stabbed to death outside a Los Feliz homeless shelter last month, it fell to her to hold their extended family together. Just eight months prior, another relative — her 36-year-old nephew, Jesse Darjean — was gunned down around the block from his childhood home in Compton. His slaying remains unsolved. Across L.A. County and around the country, murder rates are falling to lows not seen since the late 1960s. Yet clearance rates — a measure of how often police solve cases — have remained relatively steady. In other words: Even with fewer homicides to investigate, authorities have been unable to bring more murderers to justice. Police data show killings of Black and Latino people are still less likely to be solved than those of white or Asian victims. Carter's hometown of Compton is still crawling out from under its reputation as a national epicenter for gang violence. But for all of its continued struggles, violent crime — especially killings — has plummeted. When the gang wars peaked in 1991, there were 87 homicides. Last year, there were 18, including Darjean's fatal shooting on Oct. 24. The way Carter sees it, the killers who took her brother and nephew are both getting away with it — but for different reasons. In Darjean's shooting, there are no known suspects, witnesses or motive. But the man who stabbed Ware is known to authorities. The L.A. County district attorney's office declined to file charges against him, finding evidence of self-defense, according to a memo released to The Times. Ware's sister and other relatives dispute the D.A.'s decision, claiming authorities have failed to fully investigate. 'The system failed him,' Carter said. In the absence of arrests and charges, Carter and her family have simmered with rage, grief and frustration. With digital footprints, DNA testing and more resources than ever available to police, how is it that the people who took their loved ones are still walking free? In Darjean's case, the investigation is led by the L.A. County Sheriff's Department, which has patrolled Compton since 2000, when the city disbanded its own Police Department. Leads appear to be scarce. His body was found in the back seat of his car, which had been riddled with bullets. A father of three, he had just gotten home late at night from one of his jobs as a security guard. To Sherrina Lewis, his mother, it seemed the world was quick to forget and move on. News outlets largely ignored the shooting. Social media sensationalized it. She couldn't resist reading some of the comments online, speculating about whether her son was killed by someone he knew or because of his race or a gang affiliation. But, Darjean was no gangster, she says. True, there had been rumors around the neighborhood about escalating conflict between the Cedar Block Pirus, a Black gang, and their Latino rivals. But if anything, Lewis said, her son was targeted in a classic case of wrong place, wrong time. When homicide detectives began knocking on doors for answers, her former neighbors claimed not to have seen anything. For Lewis, it felt like betrayal — many of those neighbors had watched Darjean grow up with their kids. 'Each and every day I have to ask God to lift the hardness in my heart, because I'm angry,' Lewis said. 'They're not gonna make my son no cold case, I promise you that.' Lewis nearly lost Darjean once before, at the moment of his birth. He and his twin brother were born three months early, and doctors warned that Darjean was the less likely of the two to survive. He suffered from respiratory problems, which left him dependent on a breathing machine. The prognosis was bleak. Doctors asked her for 'a name for his death certificate' in case he died en route to a hospital in Long Beach. Picking 'Jesse' on the spot was agony, she said. In the end, Darjean was the twin who survived. Shy as a child, he had grown up to be outgoing and witty, a person who loved to cook soul food and make dance videos with his sister and post them on Instagram. While his siblings all moved away as they got older, Darjean insisted on staying put. Compton was home, through and through, he used to tell his mother. He wasn't blind to the gang violence, but he came to know a different side of the city, one that represented Black joy and resilience — a side he saw captured in Kendrick Lamar's music video for the Grammy-winning 'Not Like Us.' When his niece ran for Miss Teen Compton, Darjean advocated on her behalf by taking out a full-page ad in the local newspaper that proclaimed: 'Compton is the best city on Earth.' But Darjean knew the pain of losing loved ones. His friend Montae Talbert was killed late one night in 2011 in a drive-by shooting outside an Inglewood liquor store. Talbert, known as M-Bone, was a member of the rap group Cali Swag District, the group behind the viral rap dance the 'Dougie.' Around the same time, the mother of Darjean's oldest daughter was gunned down in Compton. A few years later, another uncle, Terry Carter, a businessman who built classic lowrider cars and started a record label with Ice Cube, was struck and killed by a vehicle driven by rap impresario Marion 'Suge' Knight. After Darjean's funeral, which Lewis said drew more than 1,000 people, she returned to the scene of the shooting: Brazil Street, right off Wilmington Avenue, on a modest block of stucco and wood-frame homes. With the bravado of an angry, grieving mother, she began going door-to-door in her old neighborhood, seeking answers. She wanted to show anyone who was watching that she wouldn't be intimidated into silence. When she confronted one of Darjean's close childhood friends about what happened, he swore he didn't know anything. She didn't believe him. 'He just broke down crying. I can tell it was eating him up,' Lewis said. The L.A. County Sheriff's Department did not respond to multiple inquires about Darjean's case. On some level, Lewis understands the hesitancy. Fear of gang retaliation and distrust of law enforcement still hangs over the west Compton neighborhood. After raising her six children there, in 2006 she sold their family home of 50 years and moved to Palmdale because she didn't want her 'kids to become accustomed to death.' For her, she said, the final straw was the discovery of a body 'propped up' on her neighbor's fence. Like generations of Black women before her, Lewis is faced with enormous pressure to carry their family's burden. Possessing a superhuman-like will to overcome adversity is celebrated by society with terms such as 'Black Girl Magic' and 'Strong Black Woman,' said Keisha Bentley-Edwards, an associate professor of medicine at Duke University. But such unrealistic expectations not only strip Black women of their innocence from an early age, but also contribute to higher pregnancy-related death rates and other bad health outcomes, she said. 'A lot of times people expect Black women to take care of it,' Bentley-Edwards said in an interview. Instead of romanticizing the struggle, she said, there should be 'tangible support like housing or employment' and other resources. But experts say safety nets are at risk, particularly after the Trump administration in April terminated roughly $811 million in public safety grants for L.A. and other major cities. As a result, federal funds for victim services programs, which offer counseling and other resources, have been slashed. Lewis never thought she'd be in a position to need such help. 'The funny thing is, we're from Compton born and raised, but we were not a statistic until my son was murdered,' she said. 'My kids had a two-parent household. We both had jobs. We weren't doing welfare: I worked every day.' Months of waiting on an arrest in Darjean's death led Carter, his aunt, into a 'dark place.' She ended up taking a spiritual retreat into the mountains of Nigeria. She was still working through the feelings of anger and guilt when she learned her brother, Ware, had been fatally stabbed on July 5. She described the days and weeks that followed as a teary blur. Coming from a family of nurses taught her how to push aside her own grief and forge on, but she was left wondering how much more she could endure. Ware, who went by Duke, was his family's unofficial historian, setting out to map out their sprawling Portuguese and Creole roots and scouring the internet for long-lost relatives. He used to brag all the time about his daughter, who had graduated from nursing school and moved back to the L.A. area to work at a pediatric intensive care unit on the Westside. He used to joke that for all of his shortcomings as a father, he had at least gotten one thing right. In recent months, though, Ware's life had started to spiral. His diabetes had gotten worse, and a back injury left him unable to continue in his job as a long-haul truck driver. Relatives worried he was hiding a drug addiction from them. He had adopted a bull mastiff puppy named Nala. She used to follow him everywhere, usually trotting a few steps behind without a leash. Even when he was having trouble making ends meet, he always 'spoiled her,' his family said. For a few months, he lived out of a van one of his sisters bought for him. He then landed at a shelter, a hangar-style structure on the edge of Griffith Park. He and Nala were kicked out after a short time, but he still frequented the area, and it's where L.A. County authorities said the fight that ended in his killing began. Prosecutors said in a memo that surveillance video showed Ware and his dog chasing another man into a parking lot across the street from the shelter. The two men, the D.A.'s memo said, had been involved in an ongoing dispute, possibly over a woman. According to the memo, the man said he'd been carrying a knife because of a previous altercation in which Ware ordered his dog to attack. On the day of the stabbing, the man said, Ware had shown up with Nala at the shelter, looking for a confrontation. After the fight, responding officers found Ware suffering from a deep wound to his chest, Nala with several lacerations and the suspect hiding in a nearby porta-potty. His clothes had been torn off, and he was bleeding profusely from several severe dog bites, the memo said. Prosecutors said witnesses corroborated the man's story that Ware had been the aggressor, in addition to the video footage. Ware's family says that account contradicts what they heard from other residents, who claimed Ware was the one defending himself after the other man attacked him with a vodka bottle. In the meantime, they are working to secure Nala's release from the pound, where she has been nursing her injuries. On July 8, Carter organized a candlelight vigil for her brother outside the shelter where the killing happened. That morning, she said, she cried in the shower before steeling herself so she could run out to a Dollar Tree store to pick up some balloons. When she got to the vigil, Lewis made her way around, greeting the swarm of relatives holding homemade signs and chanting Ware's name. After a final prayer, the group released balloons, most of which floated upward with the evening's lazy breeze. Some, though, got caught in the branches of a large tree nearby. A smile finally crossed Carter's face as she pointed up to them. She took it as a sign from Ware, as though he was saying a last goodbye before he departed to heaven. 'He's trying to hang on,' she said.

USA Today
3 hours ago
- USA Today
Western nations want a Palestinian state. But Arab nations keep their distance.
Middle Eastern leaders who live closest to Gaza − and who arguably understand the players, history and regional dynamics best − are not escalating the political pressure on Israel. Britain's announcement that it may recognize a Palestinian state, along with France and Canada, is another signal of Western frustration with Israel, nearly two years into the war sparked by Hamas' attacks. But while outrage over Gaza dominates headlines in Western capitals, a quieter and far more revealing story is unfolding in the Arab world. The leaders who live closest to Gaza − and who arguably understand the players, history and regional dynamics best − are not escalating the political pressure on Israel. Instead, they're recalibrating, reassessing and, in some cases, even deepening their ties with the Jewish state. Like some Western nations, Arab states have strongly condemned civilian casualties and the humanitarian crisis in Gaza and called for a future Palestinian state. However, unlike their Western counterparts, they have not allowed Hamas, the group that ignited this war with an unprovoked massacre on Oct. 7, 2023, to shape the moral narrative. They haven't withdrawn from the Abraham Accords, recalled their ambassadors or severed diplomatic ties with Jerusalem. Even in moments of high emotion, they're choosing long-term strategy over symbolic gestures. That choice speaks volumes. With Gaza conflict, it's important to know the participants In Saudi Arabia over the past year, senior figures have publicly criticized Hamas. In Egypt and Jordan, leaders are focused on regional stability and working to contain, not inflame, the conflict. In Iraq, Prime Minister Mohammed Shia al-Sudani revealed that his government thwarted nearly 30 attempted attacks on Israel and U.S. troops during Iran's spring offensive. That included foiling drone launches from Iraqi soil, which underscores how far some Arab states are going to stop the conflict from spreading. So why are Western cities ablaze with protests while Arab capitals work the phones in quiet diplomacy? Unlike Western activists who chant 'from the river to the sea' without knowing what river or which sea, Arab governments know precisely what Hamas is. They've dealt with its destabilizing ideology, its ties to Iran and its contempt for compromise. They understand that Hamas does not seek peace, statehood or coexistence. It seeks perpetual war and Islamic revolution. In contrast, too many in the West are waging an ideological campaign detached from regional reality. In their fervor to stand with 'Palestine,' they overlook that Hamas is not a liberation movement. It is a jihadist militia that exploits civilian suffering to manipulate global opinion. They also forget that, for all its flaws, Israel is the only democracy in the Middle East where Arabs and Jews alike vote, protest and serve in parliament. Hamas has noticed, it has openly praised European governments for their positions on Israel. In Ireland, lawmakers are pushing to criminalize trade with Israelis. Now, as Britain considers recognition of a Palestinian state along with France and Canada, Hamas' strategy of provocation and propaganda is paying diplomatic dividends. The result is a surreal inversion: While the Arab nations inch toward coexistence, the West drifts into moral chaos. What was once a principled defense of human rights has morphed into selective outrage, often blind to the region's realities and exploited by its most destructive actors. Empowering Hamas will worsen, not improve, life in Gaza This isn't just dangerous for Jews and Israelis; it's corrosive to liberal democracy itself. When human rights are applied selectively, when terrorism is downplayed or excused and when Hamas' calls to destroy Israel and slaughter its citizens are rationalized as 'resistance,' something fundamental is breaking. It may be time for the West to look east − not for answers, but for clarity. The Arab world is not embracing Hamas. It's moving on. It's negotiating, normalizing and, in some cases, partnering with Israel to contain shared threats. If the goal is a better future for Israelis and Palestinians, outrage isn't a strategy. It's a spectacle. And the people closest to the conflict seem to understand that best. Aviva Klompas is the former director of speechwriting at the Israeli Mission to the United Nations and cofounder of Boundless Israel, a nonprofit organization that partners with community leaders in the U.S. to support Israel education and combat hatred of Jews. She is cohost of the "Boundless Insights" podcast.