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Yahoo
09-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
L.A. Schools Create ‘Perimeters of Safety' Against ICE Agents
Los Angeles Unified School District Superintendent Alberto Carvalho said Monday school police will create 'perimeters of safety' around high school graduation ceremonies to keep out immigration enforcement agents after federal raids rocked the city last week. Speaking at a press conference at LAUSD headquarters, Carvalho also said the district would offer transportation to graduation events, shorten lines outside venues, and provide temporary shelter for attendees in case of immigration action by ICE at or near graduation venues. The district was examining steps it could take to ensure immigrant students can participate in summer school classes that start next week without threat of arrest, including expanded busing and more virtual classes, Carvalho said. Get stories like this delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for The 74 Newsletter 'Our schools are places of education and inspiration, not fear and intimidation,' Carvalho said. 'Many of us here are immigrants or children of immigrants.' The actions come as the Trump administration has ramped up actions against immigrant students across the country. More than 100 graduation-related events are scheduled across L.A. schools on Monday and Tuesday, which is the last day of class before LAUSD lets out for summer break. Carvalho, who is a Portuguese immigrant and outspoken critic of the immigration policies of President Donald Trump, said some L.A. families were afraid to attend graduation ceremonies, fearful they could be targeted by federal immigration agents. He said schools and families remain on high alert after U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers in L.A. last week arrested more than 100 people in raids across the city. The federal immigration enforcement actions in Los Angeles last week included arrests at local businesses, but not at schools, and prompted widespread and sometimes violent protests that began on Friday and continued through Monday, with dozens of arrests. LAUSD does not track students' immigration status. According to the city's teachers' union the district serves nearly 30,000 immigrant students, and a quarter of those students are undocumented. LA Immigrant families have grown more concerned as the Trump administration has stepped up immigration crackdowns in L.A. and beyond. In April, federal immigration agents were denied access to two LAUSD elementary schools after the agents sought to contact five students at those schools, who were identified by federal authorities as minors who arrived unaccompanied at the border. Carvalho said he has instructed LAUSD school police to 'intervene' against any ICE agents who may be attempting immigration enforcement at school graduation events, but he declined to provide additional details. 'Every single graduation site is a protected site,' Carvalho said. 'I have directed our own police force to redouble their efforts and establish perimeters of safety around graduation sites, [and] to interfere, intervene and interfere with any federal agency who may want to take action.' He said he had spoken with Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass and California Governor Gavin Newsom about the actions he was taking. Reps for Bass and Newsom didn't respond to requests for comment. Representatives for the Department of Homeland Security, which oversees ICE, also didn't immediately respond to a request for comment. The LAUSD school board, Newsom and Bass have all backed Carvalho in standing against federal immigration enforcement. The LAUSD school board has issued a series of resolutions stating that L.A. Unified will be a sanctuary for immigrant students. Carvalho said on Monday that last week two ICE vehicles were spotted near two LAUSD elementary schools. The ICE agents didn't visit the schools, Carcalho said, but they did frighten the children inside. 'No action has been taken, but we interpret those actions as actions of intimidation, instilling fear that may lead to self deportation,' said Carvalho. 'That is not the community we want to be. That is not the state or the nation that we ought to be.'
Yahoo
09-06-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Opinion: How My California Middle School Uses Glyphs to Teach English Learners to Read
In the agricultural regions of California's San Joaquin Valley, schools like Firebaugh Middle School are surrounded by fields. But many of Firebaugh's students struggle to read that word. If they were to see 'field' on the board, they would likely pronounce it as 'filed,' a reflection of their unfamiliarity with the varied pronunciations in English. Firebaugh's student body is 98% Hispanic, and about 30% of its 530 sixth-, seventh- and eighth-graders are designated as English learners. Based on diagnostic testing, administrators know many of them have limited or nonexistent phonics skills. In some cases, the students did not attend elementary school and lack the basics of literacy even in their primary language. Get stories like this delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for The 74 Newsletter If you think of reading as an equation with specific components, you might assume reading instruction is straightforward. But as with any equation, there are variables, and English learners have many of them, from Individualized Education Programs to a diversity of home languages that makes it difficult for teachers to find a starting point for reading instruction. Any supplemental instruction educators provide must be flexible enough to account for those individual differences. This is hard enough at the elementary level, but in middle school, students do not merely need to know how to read; they need to know how to read well, so they can comprehend information, analyze it and synthesize it. But in most middle schools, educators likely do not have comprehensive training in supporting basic reading development. While they may have picked up some strategies, their job and focus is to teach a single subject‚ not literacy. I'm a perfect example. I was a history major, and I am credentialed in social science. I was trained to teach ancient civilizations, modern government and economics, and everything in between — but not reading. Related Time is also a limiting factor. At Firebaugh, students rotate through a seven-period school day. Teachers cannot adapt their schedules the way elementary educators can, making it challenging to spend extra time catching up students who are not reading at grade level. We had attempted many approaches to improving literacy at Firebaugh. We added English language development classes. Educators tried to emphasize reading strategies and target specific students who were two or more grade levels behind in literacy. However, none of these efforts proved effective. Along the way, we realized many students needed pieces of the reading equation that we did not know they needed, such as decoding words. Then, we discovered an unusual approach to adolescent literacy that uses glyphs as a resource to foster reading fluency and boost comprehension for English learners. The system consists of 21 glyphs, or diacritical marks, that function as a pronunciation guide for each word. These marks (think accents or umlauts) are widely used in languages other than English to aid with pronunciation and comprehension. The system indicates which letters make their usual sound, which make a different-than-usual sound and which are silent. It also denotes syllable breaks. We implemented this glyph approach for English learners who had no experience sounding out words. In the first stage of implementation, students worked with teachers to learn the glyphs and complete core skill-building activities. In the second stage, the diacriticals — which are available for more than 100,000 words — were integrated into students' daily reading practice to build fluency and comprehension. With the markups, words like 'field' and 'filed,' for example, were no longer a problem.
Yahoo
09-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
The California Mom at the Center of Trump's Crackdown on School Gender Policies
In 2022, near the end of her youngest child's freshman year in high school, a Southern California mom spotted an unfamiliar male name on an online biology assignment: Toby. When she asked the teacher about it, he shrugged it off as a nickname. While scrolling through Instagram, the mother noticed her child's friends also called the teen Toby. So she began digging for further evidence of something she had started to suspect — that the ninth grader, with the school's support, was transitioning from female to male. 'I'm like 'Hey, you can't deny it anymore' ' said Lydia, who did not want to use her last name out of a desire to protect her child, now 17. Get stories like this delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for The 74 Newsletter The school's principal, following guidance that allows students to decide whether to inform parents of their gender identity, refused to meet with her. But she found clues elsewhere — an alternate ID card with the name Toby stuffed in a backpack, and emails between district staff discussing which name to use in the yearbook. Over time, she discovered her child's transition was an open secret at school — one kept by staff, administrators, a district equity officer, the superintendent, even the president of the local teachers union. 'They were strategizing against me,' Lydia said. Her experience now lies at the center of a major push by the U.S. Department of Education to clamp down on policies that allow schools to conceal changes in students' gender identity from parents. In a March press release announcing an investigation into California, Education Secretary Linda McMahon said teachers and counselors should stay out of 'consequential decisions' about children's sexual identities. Officials are probing similar allegations in Maine and Washington state. In an unprecedented move, the department is threatening to pull millions of dollars in federal education funding from all three states. But it's putting all schools on notice. In guidance, federal officials warned states and districts that their support of student 'gender plans' had become a 'priority concern.' For educators, the message was as stunning as its rationale. The department is relying on a novel, and according to some critics, incorrect, interpretation of a 50-year-old student privacy law known as the Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act, or FERPA. Related The law is typically used to safeguard student records and allow parents to inspect them. But it doesn't compel schools to inform parents how their children identify in the classroom. If schools link a record to a student, 'the parent has a right of access to it if they request it,' said LeRoy Rooker, who oversaw compliance with FERPA at the Education Department for over 20 years. But 'the school doesn't have to be proactive and call and say 'Hey, we did this.' ' Department leaders appear to be stretching the reach of the law in an attempt to bolster conservative arguments that schools are meddling in deeply personal decisions that should be left to parents. In response to the Washington investigation, state Superintendent Chris Reykdal said in a statement that his state is the 'latest target in the administration's dangerous war against individuals who are transgender' and that officials are twisting student privacy laws 'to undermine the health, safety and well-being of students.' To Julie Hamill, a Los Angeles-area attorney who asked the department to investigate, Lydia's story demonstrates that a law designed to keep parents informed is now working against them. Related 'The parents are in the dark,' said Hamill of the conservative California Justice Center. 'Parents will not know student records are being withheld unless they've somehow discovered it on their own.' In tackling the role of schools in student gender transitions, the department is dipping into one of the more emotionally fraught issues in the culture war, one that President Donald Trump campaigned on and weaponized once he was back in the White House. In one of his first executive orders, Trump said, without evidence, that schools are 'steering students toward surgical and chemical mutilation.' In March, McMahon met with 'detransitioners' who reversed their gendering processes. She criticized the 'lengths schools would go to in order to hide this information from parents.' 'The parents are in the dark.' Julie Hamill, California Justice Center To many experts, the administration's scrutiny is out of proportion to the scope of the issue. In the overwhelming majority of cases, schools and students are just navigating preferred names and pronouns, and even those situations are infrequent. Multiple sources estimate that about 3% of teens are transgender. Far fewer are likely to approach school officials with a request for a name or pronoun change, said Brian Dittmeier, the director of Public Policy at GLSEN, which advocates for LGBTQ students. Loretta Whitson, executive director of the California Association of School Counselors, said it is 'rare' for school officials to discuss transitioning with students, and that her group's members say the only gender plans they've completed were done at the request of parents. At the same time, most Americans agree that schools should get parents' permission before changing a child's pronouns in school records. Polls in California and New Jersey found that roughly three-quarters of adults support mandatory parental notification. Lydia's story exemplifies that loss of trust in the system. The artist and former ballerina she thought of as her daughter began identifying as transgender upon entering Academy of the Canyons, a public high school in Santa Clarita, an upscale suburb of Los Angeles. Homeschooled since kindergarten, the teen wanted to pursue art and take advantage of options in their district. The school is located on a college campus where students can attend post-secondary classes while earning their high school diplomas. 'I thought it would be a good opportunity,' Lydia said. In the fall of 2021, while cleaning the ninth grader's bedroom, Lydia flipped through some art journals. But instead of schoolwork, she found disturbing sketches of bloody body parts and notes about wanting a chest binder, top surgery and a new name. 'Shocked and scared' that her child might be suicidal, her thoughts turned immediately to a friend of her son's who'd recently taken his own life, apparently without warning. 'No suicide notes. No threats,' she recalled. 'The ones that never use it as a weapon are the ones that follow through.' She began searching for answers online. Initially, she only found sites about supporting a child's transition — advice she rejected. Unlike many parents in her shoes, she's neither conservative nor religious. In fact, she quipped, an outsider might have assumed she was 'the poster mom for transitioning my kid.' Related She described her own parents — a Black father and a Jewish mother — as 'hippie artists' who raised her to be a 'free thinker' without religion. Lydia's mother changed her name to Michael in the 1960s because it was easier to make it in the art world with a man's name. A lifelong Democrat, Lydia voted against a ban on gay marriage when it was on the state ballot in 2008. But when it came time to have kids of her own, she embraced more conservative values, wanting to 'protect their childhood.' Speaking as a liberal, Lydia said, 'I really should have been like 'Yeah, sure, explore your transgenderism.'' But instead, she did the opposite, taking a hard line against the shift. 'I said ' I love you, but I'm not affirming you. This is not real.' ' That view belies a scientific consensus that some children can identify differently as young as 3 or 4. Other research shows children can experience strong distress due to gender dysphoria — feeling that their sex was misassigned at birth — starting at age 7. 'I love you, but I'm not affirming you.' Lydia, California mom In attempting to explain what was happening with her child, Lydia turned to a controversial theory of researcher Lisa Littman. In a 2018 paper, the former Brown University scientist described the rise in rapid onset gender dysphoria among adolescents as a 'contagion' driven by peer pressure and social media. 'I did what every parent did during the pandemic — let their kid be online way too much,' Lydia said. Littman's research methods drew criticism from her own university and the broader research community because she based her conclusions largely on reports from self-selecting parents recruited from online forums that were unsupportive, or at least skeptical, of gender transition. They included 4thwavenow, which labels itself as 'a community of people who question the medicalization of gender-atypical youth.' Littman later published an amended version of the paper, responding to the controversy and clarifying that the behavior she observed did not amount to a formal diagnosis. Her work, however, continues to drive conservative calls to eliminate trans-inclusive policies in school and inspire the views of the Trump administration — and Lydia. 'There is no such thing as a trans child,' Lydia said. It is a debate where the voices of kids directly affected are often absent. J.J. Koechell, a Wisconsin 20-year-old, transitioned in sixth grade after a suicide attempt. He now advocates for other LGBTQ students he says are 'entitled to some privacy and consent.' 'They're trying to figure things out and they don't want to get it wrong. To disappoint parents is a lot of weight on a struggling youth.' He watched the school district he attended, Kettle-Moraine, ban Pride flags and 'safe spaces.' In 2023, as the result of a lawsuit, leaders stopped allowing staff to refer to students by different names and pronouns without parents' permission. Some staff members retired or resigned over the controversy, including a librarian Koechell trusted. Koechell dropped out and is now finishing high school online. 'My teachers were all I had at school. I didn't have any friends,' he said. 'Coming out was a matter of life and death for me. My identity wasn't and still isn't optional.' Protecting students like Koechell is the purpose of a new California law — Support Academic Futures and Educators for Today's Youth, also known as the 'SAFETY Act.' It prohibits schools from requiring staff to disclose a child's gender identity to their parents. In announcing the Department of Education's investigation of the state, Secretary McMahon said the law 'appears to conflict with FERPA.' But GLSEN's Dittmeier highlighted that the legislation still requires schools to comply with the federal privacy law — and honor parents' requests for records. 'Coming out was a matter of life and death for me. My identity wasn't and still isn't optional.' J.J. Koechell, trans student advocate One department staffer is worried where the investigation could lead. 'This is irregular, based on our history — to take up an allegation [with] no official complaint, but one that is motivated by an attorney group that is bending the department's ear about something,' said an employee familiar with the case who asked to speak anonymously to protect his job. He said the administration's goal is to pressure states and districts into rescinding policies that allow students to decide when to go public with their gender identity. 'This will result in districts adopting forced outing and will result in harming children.' In California, the debate over parental notification was raging long before the current controversy. In 2023, police removed state Superintendent Tony Thurmond from a meeting in the Chino Valley Unified School District after a tense exchange with board members over the district's parental notification policy. He warned the board that their policy could 'put our students at risk because they may not be in homes where they can be safe.' The state later filed a lawsuit against the district as well as others that passed similar measures. Continuing its battle with Thurmond, Chino Valley is now suing the state over the SAFETY Act, saying that minors are 'too young to make life-altering decisions' without their parents. National data show that less than a third of trans and nonbinary students say their home is gender-affirming. A 2021 study found that transgender adolescents assigned female at birth were more likely than other teens to report being psychologically traumatized by parents or other adults in the home. 'There have been kids whose parents have physically abused them and kicked them out of the house when this information is disclosed,' said Amelia Vance, president of the Public Interest Privacy Center and an expert on student privacy. Even before California passed the SAFETY Act, the state education agency and the California School Boards Association urged schools to get students' permission before informing parents about changes in their gender identity. When officials at Hart Unified High School District refused to meet with Lydia, they cited a state law that protects trans students' access to programs, sports and facilities that align with their gender identity. On the advice of an advocacy group, Lydia initially filed a public records request in search of a 'secret social transition' plan she believed Academy of the Canyons maintained. She also asked for communications between her child and teachers using the 'non-birth name.' The district turned her down. Contacted by The 74, Hart Unified spokeswoman Debbie Dunn declined to answer questions about the investigation or Lydia's experience, but said officials would 'continue to follow the laws and procedures applicable to the district.' In January 2023, Lydia spoke at a school board meeting about being shut out by the district. Her story caught the attention of Board Member Joe Messina, a conservative radio talk show host. 'She came up to the podium one night and she was crying,' he said. 'She looked at the superintendent and said, 'I've reached out to you. You've not called me back'. She looked to the trustee who handles her area and she said, 'I've left you four messages. You've never called me back.' ' 'There have been kids whose parents have physically abused them and kicked them out of the house when this information is disclosed.' Amelia Vance, Public Interest Privacy Center Messina and Lydia talked after the meeting, and he connected her with the Pacific Justice Institute, a right-leaning law firm. He noted that the issue transcended their political differences. 'Lydia's a lifelong Democrat, and I'm an outspoken Republican,' Messina said. 'For her and I to come together — the rest of the world would say, 'What's wrong with you people?'' Even with advocates on her side, Lydia continued to face obstacles. For months, the Academy of the Canyons declined to release an autobiographical English essay written by her child under the name Toby. The district finally turned it over on advice from their lawyers. The essay revealed the child's trepidation about coming out to Lydia. The piece recounted a moment before the pandemic, when the student, then 11, broached the subject of being queer. Lydia said her child was first exposed to LGBTQ issues while participating in a homeschool theater group. 'The weather was overcast, and we were driving home from theater rehearsal,' the then-10th grader wrote. 'Once again summoning all my courage, I mentioned to her that one of my friends had confided in me about their attraction to girls, and that I too might be queer. Unfortunately, my mom's immediate response was dismissive and critical.' As parent-child confrontations often go, Lydia remembers it differently. She said she treated the declaration as a teachable moment.'We talked about what that word meant,' she said, 'and why I felt she had time as she grew up to really know what sexual orientation she would be.' In a memo, the district's lawyers also named the elephant in the room — that officials had been withholding the essay out of a desire to shield the child's shifting gender identity. 'In general, parents have the statutory right to review a student's classwork/homework,' the memo stated. 'This issue becomes clouded … if the classwork could reveal a student's gender identity/expression.' Despite refusing to accept that her child was transgender, Lydia said she tried to stay connected. In 2023, they attended over a dozen concerts together, seeing Hozier, Bastille and Penelope Scott — experiences that Lydia called 'part of the healing process.' The two went on a long-promised trip to Europe, during which Lydia gave her child an ultimatum: stop identifying as a boy or go back to being homeschooled. That fall, the school agreed to honor Lydia's wishes to cease social transitioning, but her child still resisted, asking teachers to continue using the name Toby. This time, the district let Lydia know. Lydia did not make her child available for an interview, saying 'she isn't ready to tell her side of the story.' Nearly two years later, she says her child, who graduated from high school last week, 'wants to put it all behind her.' While the teen identifies as a girl, the changes have been subtle. There are days when she dresses in what her mom called 'oversized, ugly boy shirts' and others when she does her makeup and wears more feminine clothes. Recently, she switched back to her birth name on all of her social media accounts. 'I get a little choked up,' Lydia said, 'but that's pretty huge.' The story might have ended there, but Lydia's two-minute plea to the Hart school board, shared across social media, reached other parent rights advocates just as Trump renewed his campaign for the White House. When the president took office, Hamill, with the California Justice Center, seized the opportunity to file a complaint with an administration guided by Project 2025, the right-wing Heritage Foundation's blueprint for the president's second term. Requiring schools to notify parents if a student changes their gender identity, which six states already do, is one of the tenets of the plan. Heritage expert Lindsey Burke, who joined the department Friday, also wants Congress to give FERPA more teeth by allowing parents to sue under the law. Currently, parents can only file a grievance with their state or the Education Department's privacy office — complaints that can languish for years. Privacy laws 'are a core part of [the administration's] arguments for how parental rights need to be respected and strengthened,' said Vance, the privacy expert. But the potential for lawsuits under FERPA, she added 'would be extremely messy and expensive for schools.' In April, the House education committee advanced a bill — the PROTECT Kids Act — that would require elementary and middle schools to secure parental consent before students change their pronouns or preferred names or use different bathrooms or locker rooms. The committee debate demonstrated the deep divisions over gender identity and how schools should accommodate LGBTQ students. Rep. Mark Takano, a California Democrat who is gay, offered a personal story. 'When I came out to my parents, it was at a time, place and manner of my own choosing,' he said. 'I would not have wanted anyone else to make that decision for me.' To Hamill, gender transition is much more than 'coming out' because it can lead to physical changes that some young adults later regret. Research shows that figure is about 1%, a fraction of those who undergo surgery. Even so, she said California's policies add up to an elaborate 'concealment scheme' that pits children against their parents. 'If you suspect the parents are abusive and they're going to harm the child, you have to report that to [child protective services],' she said. 'But the government cannot by default assume that every parent is harmful and is going to reject and hurt their children.'
Yahoo
30-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Wilkesboro Church, Child Care Program Team Up in Model for Others
This article was originally published in EducationNC. In the last 18 years, Wilkes County has lost 56 child care programs, 67% of its child care capacity. This year, thanks to a scrappy community effort, local leaders saved the county from losing another. Sharon Phillips and her daughter Katy Hinson, owners of PlayWorks Early Care and Learning Center, cut the ribbon on their new location inside Wilkesboro United Methodist Church in April, expanding their business after months of wondering whether they'd survive at all. Get stories like this delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for The 74 Newsletter 'I consider what happened there a miracle,' said Todd Maberry, former managing director of the Ormond Center, a project at Duke Divinity School focused on helping churches assess their communities' needs and find new ways to meet them. The center, which is closing this summer, helped the Wilkesboro church decide how to use an empty wing to help address a local lack of child care and bring in new revenue. The specifics of the initiative, called 'Big Building, Little Feet' — both the people behind it and the speed at which they raised more than $600,000 as the five-star program faced eviction — are specific to this community. But the model itself, Maberry said, has lessons for the entire state. 'There's not one of the 100 counties that doesn't have a church that has an empty educational wing sitting there,' Maberry said. 'This can be a blueprint.' With pandemic-era child care funding gone and bipartisan state leaders prioritizing child care solutions, local leaders like those in Wilkes County are convening, collaborating, and raising money to make things work for their neighbors in the meantime. 'Communities need to think outside the box,' said Michelle Shepherd, executive director of Wilkes Community Partnership for Children, the local Smart Start partnership. 'I think that's the biggest takeaway. These children deserve quality child care, and what does that look like, and what do communities have to offer?' In 2023, Phillips and Hinson were touring every vacant building in town. They were looking for a larger space to expand their 10-year-old business and help fill child care gaps. That year, a study funded by the Leonard G Herring Family Foundation found that the county needed 836 additional child care slots, almost double the capacity it had. The report's findings, released by the Wilkes Economic Development Corporation (EDC), were starting conversations in the business community. 'The child care study revealed what a crisis we were in,' Hinson said. Hinson and her mother were already struggling with a balance familiar to child care owners. They did not have enough revenue to pay teachers much more than minimum wage, couldn't raise tuition without pricing out families, and were unwilling to cut costs by lowering quality. Stabilization grants funded through the federal American Rescue Plan Act were expected to dry up, leaving a large gap in the budgets of programs across the state. 'We just kind of felt like we had done all we could on our own two feet,' Phillips said. Phillips and Hinson were coming up short in their search. 'We had knocked on doors, we had toured all the vacant buildings, we had been to town officials,' Phillips said. Then they started conversations with a local entity with its own financial struggles: Wilkesboro United Methodist Church. 'Our church has dramatically shrunk … especially post-COVID,' said Gilbert Cox, who has attended the church since 2008 and was the chair of its finance committee at the time. Cox recalled holidays when he first joined with people overflowing into the aisles and Sundays with regularly full pews. A couple of years after the pandemic, the church was lucky to have 50 members attending services. 'This is a very common story for a lot of congregations in the country, particularly in North Carolina, particularly in rural places, where mainline churches have just been decimated by a pandemic, by disagreements,' Maberry said. 'And Wilkesboro is not immune to that.' Plus, more than 90% of the church's space was sitting unused more than 90% of the time, Cox said. 'Eventually, what was an asset was going to turn into a liability,' he said. 'The maintenance of it, and it stored more and more. I think we found five pianos. There were two in a closet we didn't even know about.' The church entered a six-week 'design sprint' with the Ormond Center called the Community Craft Collaborative to figure out a different path forward. The process aims to helps churches better understand their community through data and interviews, and then encourages them to come up with an idea to experiment with. Through a conversation with the EDC, Cox learned about the child care study's findings. The organization connected him to Phillips and Hinson, who had recently reached out in their search for a new home. By the end of the sprint, the church presented its idea: house and expand PlayWorks. Phillips and Hinson toured the church's facilities and heard from the church's leadership that they were on board. 'How could we take what is becoming a liability, and better connect to the community?' Cox said. In April 2024, a contractor gave an estimate on the building renovations necessary to meet regulatory standards. It would cost about $1.6 million. Everyone involved agreed: 'It was insurmountable,' Cox said. The potential collaboration felt like it had died, and Phillips and Hinson were back to square one. 'Everybody ghosted,' Phillips said. While they were already down, they were hit with what Phillips described as 'a gut punch.' In June 2024, the program received an eviction notice from its landlord, a local theater company that wanted to repurpose the space. PlayWorks had to be out by September. Their hunt for a new building became a make-or-break endeavor. 'I can just remember thinking, what are we going to do? What are we going to do? We don't have any choices,' Phillips said. 'I immediately called Michelle at the partnership.' Shepherd, who had been the executive director of Wilkes Community Partnership for Children for about a year, said she immediately understood the urgency. With a background in K-12 education, Shepherd had spent her time at the partnership learning about just how dire her county's child care needs were and developing relationships with a whole new sector of educators. 'We just couldn't let them fold,' she said. Shepherd's leadership was a game-changer. 'When she wouldn't give up, I wouldn't give up,' Phillips said. Through a $15,000 grant from the Ormond Center, the church paid an architect for renderings, moving forward without knowing whether things would work. Through a stroke of luck, a local contractor was called in to do the building's measurements who was interested in bidding on the project. This time, the estimate came in at about $600,000. 'Michelle says, 'Don't give up,' so it breathed new life into the possibility,' Cox said. 'Even though the church didn't have $590,000, Michelle — she deserves all the credit — she said, 'Let me see what I can do.'' Everyone got busy. Hinson and Phillips asked their landlord for an extension on the move-out date. The church began a deeper process with the Ormond Center to map out the details of the project. Shepherd, with no fundraising experience, started making calls. 'We all stepped out in faith that it would happen,' Hinson said. The child care study helped Shepherd tell potential donors the story of the community's need, she said, and explain the importance of child care for workforce participation. 'This was not some 'Betty Froo Froo' project; this was a necessity for our community,' she said. 'That really played on the heart of business people in the community.' Hinson and Phillips got an extension from their landlord for their move-out date to November, and then to April 2025. Once Shepherd received the first big 'yes' — a $250,000 donation from an anonymous community member — others started following. 'That was my big driver, that we can't tell these kids, 'You've got to go home,' and parents that they can't work that really want to work,' she said. She reached out to people with a connection to PlayWorks, who understood the importance of the high-quality care and education it provided for children and families. She received donations from dozens of individuals, including a large contribution from private donor Janice Story and funds from church members and partnership employees. She also reached out to foundations and community groups, securing grants from the Carson Foundation, the Leonard G Herring Family Foundation, the Cannon Foundation, the North Carolina Community Foundation, and United Way of North Carolina. The effort did not receive any local or state public funding. 'All of a sudden, Michelle had almost a half a million dollars in a matter of almost weeks,' Cox said. The Ormond process provided real estate and zoning expertise, as well as a video crew to help the community tell its story. It was rooted in 'asset mapping,' Maberry said. 'We've got a church with empty space, we've got an incredible child care center that is flexible and can move, and we've got a local nonprofit that's committed to the well-being of children in the county,' he said. 'Those are great assets. They can begin to look at, 'OK, well, there's a child care crisis, and one of the better ones is about to go away. How do we solve that?' Shepherd said her mother was a salesperson, and always told her that salesmanship requires a good product and a powerful 'why.' She had both. 'We had people that gave $50 up to $250,000,' she said. 'It truly was a community, dollar-by-dollar fundraiser.' From November 2024 to March 2025, the team reached their goal. The local contractor agreed to start construction before all the funding was secured to help Phillips and Hinson reach their move-out deadline. There were many obstacles. The team almost had to call off the project once again when they realized the extent of the plumbing needs to have appropriate sinks in each room. They coordinated between sanitation, the county inspector, fire safety, and the state child care licensing under the Division of Child Development and Early Education (DCDEE). 'There was not a single source that you could go to who could give you all the answers,' Cox said. PlayWorks closed on March 20 and 21, a Thursday and Friday, plus the following Monday. In that long weekend, they moved with the help of family and friends and set up every classroom. On Monday, the center had its final sanitation inspection and a visit from DCDEE. They opened their doors to children on Tuesday. The execution of the move, Phillips said, was a miracle in itself. Through the months of ups and downs, she kept thinking of the families she serves and the educators she employs. 'I kept going back to, how do we tell our staff? How do we tell our families? We are in such a child care crisis, there aren't spots available in many places in the other child cares. How can we disperse 60 children in this county? You know, where are they going to go?' On the day EdNC visited PlayWorks, Hinson and Phillips were moving in sync. Hinson went between classrooms, providing extra hands for fussy infants. Phillips met with licensing officials in the office during their second DCDEE check-in, which required a fire drill. 'We never really dreamed that something like this would happen,' Phillips said. 'We're just the proud recipients.' The day before, they had celebrated the team's accomplishments with a ribbon-cutting ceremony, during which church leaders called the moment 'a revival.' But the next day, it was back to the work they both love and are challenged by. The new space will allow PlayWorks to expand from serving 55 to 88 children as they add three new classrooms (for infants, toddlers, and 4-year-olds) in the coming months. The church is providing the space at less than $6 per square foot, Cox said, compared with the area's average commercial lease of $28 per square foot. It is also covering utility costs. Phillips said they do not expect any problem filling the new seats. They will first check with families on their waiting list. An interested family was visiting the program during the fire drill, during which all children were walked or rolled to a gazebo in the parking lot. 'Word of mouth is just really getting around,' she said. Phillips and Hinson are still hiring and rearranging teachers to staff the new classrooms. Each room has three teachers for now, for 'an extra layer of quality.' They start teachers, depending on education level and experience, at anywhere from $10 to $15 per hour. The median wage for the state's child care teachers was $12.31 in 2022. Though PlayWorks is not immune to the staffing challenges experienced by the field, multiple teachers have stayed for several years. Teacher Rachel Brionez has worked at PlayWorks since it opened because of 'the environment that Sharon and Katie have created' among the staff, the families, and the children. Educators refer to Phillips and Hinson as 'the dynamic duo.' 'They value us, and that makes coming to work so much better,' Brionez said. 'You don't dread the alarm clock going off.' Brionez said her experiences in child care have not always been positive. Phillips said the same about her early career experiences. Because of the low pay, high stress, and instability, Phillips had discouraged Hinson from going into the field. She pushed her to be a nurse instead. That all changed after one conversation, while Hinson, a high schooler at the time, was helping her mother with her pre-K class. 'She just broke down in tears, and she says, 'I'm not going to be a nurse,'' Phillips said. 'We both cried. And she said, 'This is all I know through you.' … I told her, 'We will do something for your career.' And that's why we're here.' Because of temporary state funding, the funding cliff that worried providers like Phillips and Hinson in 2023 was pushed back. In March 2025, programs received their final installment of the compensation grant, which has helped them raise teacher pay and plug the gap between what families can afford and what it costs to provide high-quality care. 'With the stabilization grant money from the state, we were able to give teachers those raises and bonuses, and we're going to do all we can for that to continue,' Hinson said. Advocates and DCDEE are asking the state legislature this session for child care investments to support the state's child care subsidy program, which helps working low-income families afford care, and the early childhood workforce. None of the current proposals would provide the level of funding providers were receiving from stabilization grants. 'It's worrisome,' Phillips said. 'I really put it on the back burner, just knowing that, with the move and everything, we've got to move forward.' As Phillips and Hinson both breathe a sigh of relief, they know their future remains unclear. 'We'll make it on a slim margin — or I hope we will,' Phillips said. 'I'm just thinking very optimistically that we'll make it work, but it's going to be very hard.' Shepherd said the mutually beneficial partnership required resources that not every community has. She sees the state playing an important role in providing grant money to repurpose space — similar to the Rural Downtown Economic Development Grants. 'I just think this is a great model for a lot of places to look at underutilized space and how to bring in some revenue for both,' she said. Maberry is hoping to find a new way to continue the work of the Ormond Center, which had 55 relationships with churches. Some were working on child care projects, he said. Others were opening mental health services and helping their communities with affordable housing. 'Churches are at their best when they are meaningfully integrated into their community and are making their communities better places to be and to live,' he said. The Wilkesboro project is an example of the power of dynamic partnerships and possibility in a time of disruption. 'For the church, it's energized them,' he said. 'Like they've got kids in their building now, all day, every day, and they're starting to think, like, OK, well, if we can do this, what else can we do? Imagination can be contagious.' The children, staff, and administrators at PlayWorks are settling in. Across the street is an assisted living center whose residents can now see playing children on their walks. Phillips said she does not know whether Hinson will ever let her retire. They both said the new space feels like home. 'With some hard work and perseverance, we've made it,' Phillips said. This story was originally published on EducationNC.
Yahoo
22-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Federal Judge Blocks Trump Bid to Kill Ed Dept., Orders Fired Workers Reinstated
A federal judge on Thursday blocked President Donald Trump's executive order to eliminate the Education Department and ordered officials to reinstate the jobs of thousands of federal employees who were laid off en masse earlier this year. Judge Myong J. Joun of the District Court in Boston wrote in the preliminary injunction that the Trump administration had sought to 'effectively dismantle' the Education Department without congressional approval and prevented the federal government from carrying out programs mandated by law. Get stories like this delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for The 74 Newsletter Trump administration officials have claimed the March layoffs of more than 1,300 federal education workers were designed to increase government efficiency and were separate from efforts to eliminate the agency outright, claims that Joun deemed 'plainly not true.' 'Defendants fail to cite to a single case that holds that the Secretary's authority is so broad that she can unilaterally dismantle a department by firing nearly the entire staff, or that her discretion permits her to make a 'shell' department,' Joun, a Biden appointee, wrote. Related Combined with early retirements and buyouts offered by the administration, the layoffs left the Education Department with about half as many employees as it had when Trump took office in January. That same month, Trump signed an executive order calling on Education Secretary Linda McMahon to 'take all necessary steps to facilitate the closure of the Department of Education.' The Trump administration has acknowledged it cannot eliminate the 45-year-old department — long a goal of conservatives — without congressional approval despite layoffs that have left numerous offices unstaffed. Yet there is 'no evidence' the Trump administration is working with Congress to achieve its goal or that the layoffs have made the agency more efficient, Joun wrote. 'Rather, the record is replete with evidence of the opposite.' 'A department without enough employees to perform statutorily mandated functions is not a department at all,' he said. 'This court cannot be asked to cover its eyes while the Department's employees are continuously fired and units are transferred out until the Department becomes a shell of itself.' The White House didn't respond to requests for comment. The Education Department said it plans to appeal. In a statement, Education Department spokesperson Madi Biedermann blasted the court order and called Joun 'a far-left Judge' who overstepped his authority and the plaintiffs who filed the lawsuit to halt the layoffs — including two Massachusetts school districts and the American Federation of Teachers — 'biased.' Also suing to stop the layoffs is 21 Democratic state attorneys general. 'President Trump and the Senate-confirmed Secretary of Education clearly have the authority to make decisions about agency reorganization efforts, not an unelected Judge with a political axe to grind,' Biedermann said. 'This ruling is not in the best interest of American students or families. We will immediately challenge this on an emergency basis.' Related Cutting the federal education workforce in half — from 4,133 to 2,183 — undermines its ability to distribute special education funding to schools, protect students' civil rights and provide financial aid for college students, plaintiffs allege. They include the elimination of all Office of General Counsel attorneys, who specialize in K-12 grants related to special education, and most lawyers focused on student privacy issues. Plaintiffs also allege the cuts hampered the agency's ability to manage a federal student loan program that provides financial assistance to nearly 13 million students across about 6,100 colleges and universities. The Office for Civil Rights was among those hardest hit by layoffs, with seven of its 12 regional offices shut down entirely. The move has left thousands of pending civil rights cases — including those that allege racial discrimination and sexual misconduct — in limbo. Randi Weingarten, president of the American Federation of Teachers, called the temporary injunction the 'first step to reverse this war on knowledge.' Yet the damage is already being felt in schools, said Jessica Tang, president of the American Federation of Teachers Massachusetts. 'The White House is not above the law, and we will never stop fighting on behalf of our students and our public schools and the protections, services and resources they need to thrive,' Tang said in a media release. In interviews with The 74 Thursday, laid-off Education Department staffers reacted with cautious optimism. It remained unclear if, or when, they might return to their old jobs — or if they even want to go back. Keith McNamara, a laid-off Education Department data governance specialist, said he's 'tempering my enthusiasm a bit' to see if Joun's order is overturned on appeal. But he said he was ' a lot more hopeful than I was yesterday' about the potential for the department to return to the way it operated prior to the cuts. For federal workers, he said the challenges have been ongoing and monumental, saying the last few months without work have 'been very chaotic.' Related 'It's been very difficult to look for other work because tens of thousands of us are all pouring into the job market at the same time,' he told The 74. 'It's been very stressful.' Rachel Gittleman, who worked as a policy analyst in the financial aid office before getting terminated, called the court order on Thursday 'a really broad rebuke on the administration's attempt to shut down this critically important department.' 'But in many ways, the damage has already been done' as fired employees begin to find new jobs, Gittleman said, and Education Department leadership works to push people out. McNamara said it was unclear Thursday whether the department would order fired employees back to work. Nearly his entire team was eliminated, he said, so it was uncertain what work he might do if he returned to the job. Asked if he was interested in doing so, he responded 'I'd have to really think about that.' 'Quite frankly, I don't think this administration is taking the job that the Education Department is supposed to be doing very seriously,' he said. 'I'm not sure I'd want to work for an agency that — from the very top — is hostile to the work that the department does.'
