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    The End of Online Classes

    [Want to get New York Today by email? Here’s the sign-up.]It’s Tuesday. Weather: It should get sunnier as the day goes on. High in the low to mid-70s. Alternate-side parking: In effect until Monday (Memorial Day). Sarah Blesener for The New York TimesThis September, New York City’s public school students will no longer sit in front of a computer screen for class. Parents won’t have to juggle working from home and helping their children through technical difficulties. Teachers won’t have to remind students to mute themselves on Zoom.Schools will fully reopen this fall, and remote learning will be eliminated, Mayor Bill de Blasio announced yesterday. The complete return to in-person classes is a major indicator of the city’s economic recovery.“It’s time to do things the way they were meant to be done,” Mr. de Blasio said during a news conference. “All the kids in the classroom together.”[New York is one of the first big cities to remove remote learning this fall.]Here’s what you need to know:The detailsSchools will fully reopen, without a remote-learning option but with safety precautions. Masks will still be required, and schools will follow social-distancing guidelines from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.The city is not yet requiring staff members and students to be vaccinated before returning.Parents will be able to tour schools during open-house events in June.The contextMr. de Blasio said the school reopening was possible thanks the city’s low positivity numbers and availability of vaccinations.On Monday, he said the city’s positivity rate was 1.13 percent, the lowest it had been since last September. Over 7.9 million vaccine doses have been administered in the city, he said, and 50 percent of adults have been fully vaccinated.Several coronavirus restrictions were lifted throughout the state earlier this month.“Covid is being run out of New York City,” the mayor said.The reactionParents on Monday had mixed reactions.For Jenn Adams, who is a tutor and has a 5-year-old who attends Public School 319, the announcement was welcome news to both her and her son. She has balanced tutoring students over video calls, scheduling in-person visits and making sure her son was learning in his online classes. It has been exhausting.“I’ll have more time to work,” she told Nate Schweber as he reported for The Times. “He will learn better. It’s exciting.”Juan Gomez and his wife, Elvia Gonell, who are parents of two children, said they felt conflicted about the end of online learning. Ms. Gonell said she worries about virus variants spreading in schools, especially since her 9-year-old child has not been vaccinated.“It’s good, but I don’t feel safe,” she said.From The TimesMeet the 12 High Schoolers Who Won a New York Times Scholarship This YearHow to Vote in the New York City Primary in JuneWho’s Winning the N.Y.C. Mayor’s Race? Even Pollsters Are Confused.Whales Sing in New York WatersTo Find New York’s Best Jerk, Follow the SmokeWant more news? Check out our full coverage.The Mini Crossword: Here is today’s puzzle.What we’re readingThe police were searching for someone who they said had spray-painted over 60 cars in a Queens neighborhood. [NBC New York]Local leaders are calling for stronger safety measures after a 24-year-old woman fell to her death during a rooftop party in Manhattan. [ABC 7]A man pulled a knife on a security guard at the Times Square M&M store after shoplifting, law enforcement said. [New York Post].css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-w739ur{margin:0 auto 5px;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-w739ur{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-w739ur{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-w739ur{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-9s9ecg{margin-bottom:15px;}.css-1jiwgt1{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-box-pack:justify;-webkit-justify-content:space-between;-ms-flex-pack:justify;justify-content:space-between;margin-bottom:1.25rem;}.css-8o2i8v{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-flex-direction:column;-ms-flex-direction:column;flex-direction:column;-webkit-align-self:flex-end;-ms-flex-item-align:end;align-self:flex-end;}.css-8o2i8v p{margin-bottom:0;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-1rh1sk1{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-1rh1sk1 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-1rh1sk1 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1rh1sk1 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#ccd9e3;text-decoration-color:#ccd9e3;}.css-1rh1sk1 a:visited{color:#333;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#ccc;text-decoration-color:#ccc;}.css-1rh1sk1 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}And finally: Did you see Andrew Yang on ‘Ziwe’? The Times’s James Poniewozik writes:Years from now, when we look back on the history of pop-political interviewing, we may find it quaint that Sacha Baron Cohen had to disguise himself as Borat and Ali G in order to get public figures into uncomfortable situations.Turns out all you have to do is ask.At least that was the case with the New York mayoral candidate and media omnipresence Andrew Yang, who accepted a dangerous offer from the comedian Ziwe to appear on her self-named Showtime program.The invitation (announced in a tweet that appeared to include a still from an already completed interview) would give many political handlers heartburn. The three-week old “Ziwe,” based on the comedian’s online show “Baited With Ziwe,” is a crucible of cringe.But cringe, in many ways, has been what the Yang campaign runs on.In her interviews, Ziwe uses the persona of an extremely online interviewer fond of influencer-speak (everything, and everyone, is “iconic”) to set up productively uncomfortable questions about politics and culture. Her signature is to take a softball-question template (“Your favorite ____”), soak it in acid and surround it with mousetraps. She asked the author and celebrated New York grouch Fran Lebowitz, “What bothers you more: slow walkers or racism?”[Read more about Mr. Yang’s cringeworthy — yet “iconic” — interview with Ziwe.]Sunday’s interview delivered. After a cheerful introduction by teleconference — Mr. Yang was, of course, an “icon” — Ziwe asked the candidate to name his four favorite billionaires. (His answer included Michael Bloomberg, whom the Democratic base considers less than iconic; Oprah; Michael Jordan; and a tie for fourth between the possible/potential billionaires LeBron James and the Rock.) His favorite subway stop? The punitive Times Square station.When Mr. Yang said he was a fan of hip-hop, Ziwe asked his favorite Jay-Z song, a loaded question about a New York rapper for a candidate whose local cred has repeatedly been challenged.There was a pause.It’s Tuesday — be iconic.Metropolitan Diary: Friendship testDear Diary:I was at the dry cleaner. A woman came in with an ungainly heavy bundle, which she dumped onto the counter. It was a patterned comforter completely covered with stains.“My friend’s cat threw up all over my bed,” she said. “Can you clean this?”“That will be $50,” the woman behind the counter said.“She must be a very good friend,” I said.“She is not a friend anymore,” the woman replied.— Patricia RichNew York Today is published weekdays around 6 a.m. Sign up here to get it by email. You can also find it at nytoday.com.What would you like to see more (or less) of? Email us: nytoday@nytimes.com. More

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    How Andrew Yang Won Over Orthodox Brooklyn

    A slew of influential ultra-Orthodox Jewish leaders endorsed Mr. Yang, motivated by one overriding issue: “Yeshivas, yeshivas, yeshivas.”The campaign material began appearing in Yiddish earlier than usual this year, declaring that the best defense that ultra-Orthodox Jews in New York City could have against a hostile world would be to elect Andrew Yang as mayor.One ad, invoking a passage from the Babylonian Talmud, told voters that Mr. Yang was the sort of honest man who is loved by God, not someone “who says one thing with his mouth but means another in his heart.”Another ad cast the choice in existential terms, urging people to vote for Mr. Yang because he alone supports “our right to educate our children according to our fundamentals” and “values our way of life.”With the June 22 Democratic mayoral primary roughly a month away, Mr. Yang, a former 2020 presidential candidate, has been able to push to the top of the contest through a potent mix of celebrity, optimism and tireless outreach, both in person and on social media.As he did in his presidential candidacy, which had support from a broad spectrum of disaffected voters, Mr. Yang has been able to widen his appeal in New York, attracting a significant following from influential ultra-Orthodox Jewish leaders.There are at least 500,000 Orthodox Jews in the New York area, by some estimates, and the endorsement of ultra-Orthodox leaders is highly coveted because the community is seen as a formidable voting bloc, especially in a race that has so far not energized the electorate.The endorsement of ultra-Orthodox leaders is highly coveted because the community is seen as a formidable voting bloc.James Estrin/The New York TimesThe key for Mr. Yang was his early declaration that he intended to take a laissez-faire attitude toward Hasidic yeshivas, the private schools to which almost all ultra-Orthodox families send their sons, as well as toward the schools where they educate their daughters.The yeshiva system has faced intense criticism over the failure of some schools to provide a basic secular education. Some also operated secretly during the pandemic, in violation of public health rules.“We shouldn’t interfere with their religious and parental choice as long as the outcomes are good,” he told The Forward, a Jewish publication, in February.That approach has helped him undercut rivals, particularly the Brooklyn borough president, Eric Adams, a former state senator who has a long working relationship with the Orthodox community.In the 2013 Democratic mayoral primary, Hasidic groups in Borough Park, Brooklyn, backed Bill de Blasio, who had once represented the area in the City Council.But in the last two presidential elections, neighborhoods with large ultra-Orthodox populations were islands of deep red in overwhelmingly blue Brooklyn. Some precincts in Borough Park voted for President Donald J. Trump by more than 90 percent in 2020.It remains to be seen how much influence Hasidic leaders will have in the Democratic primary; most ultra-Orthodox Jews support the Republican Party, according to a study published last week by the Pew Research Center, and the 2020 presidential election results in Orthodox Brooklyn seem to bear that out.Nonetheless, for Hasidic leaders, the decision to endorse a newcomer like Mr. Yang over a known quantity like Mr. Adams highlights their anxiety after a yearslong series of calamitous events: a devastating pandemic, a rise in anti-Semitic hate crimes and a long history of clashes with secular authorities over issues like social distancing, measles outbreaks and high school curriculums.Mr. Yang comes to city politics without the baggage of those past clashes. Capitalizing on that blank slate, he has won over allies with well-honed rhetoric on religious freedom, a sophisticated messaging campaign in Yiddish media and a willingness to adopt the hands-off approach favored by Hasidic leaders.“The most burning issue is yeshivas,” said Alexander Rapaport, a community leader who has organized voter registration drives in Borough Park in the run-up to the primary. “It’s not like something else is issue No. 2. Everything else is issue No. 25. The first 24 issues are yeshivas, yeshivas, yeshivas.”Alexander Rapaport, a community leader in Borough Park, said that for many voters, where candidates stood on yeshivas was a defining issue. Kevin Hagen for The New York TimesIn past elections, debates over yeshivas often centered on the allocation of public funds to the religious schools, which receive millions of federal, state and city dollars through education and child care programs.But the political conversation changed after a 2015 legal complaint filed by yeshiva graduates who said they had been given little secular education. That complaint led the city to open an inquiry that found that 26 of 28 yeshivas that were investigated were not meeting a legal requirement to provide education “substantially equivalent” to that provided in city public schools.No action was taken, but it prompted a citywide dialogue that cut to the heart of the yeshiva’s role in Hasidic society and profoundly insulted many in the community. There are more than 50,000 students in Hasidic schools in New York City, according to a 2017 report by Young Advocates for Fair Education, an ultra-Orthodox advocacy group.“The perceived threat to the autonomy of the yeshivas is greater now than it ever has been in part because there are critics from within the community publicizing what they see as the problems with the yeshiva system in a way that hasn’t happened before,” said Nathaniel Deutsch, a professor at University of California, Santa Cruz.Mr. Yang’s approach to the community was on full display at a recent event in Midwood, Brooklyn, where he received the endorsement of two local politicians, Assemblyman Simcha Eichenstein and Councilman Kalman Yeger.Standing before a crowd of reporters, Mr. Yang vowed to fight anti-Semitism and told Hasidic voters they were part of the “beautiful mosaic” of New York City.But when asked by The New York Times about yeshivas, Mr. Yang stood quietly behind Mr. Eichenstein and Mr. Yeger as they heatedly defended the schools, attacked “so-called advocates” for reform and decried the city investigation.Mr. Yang appeared bewildered by their anger — at one point, Mr. Yeger accused members of the City Council of being “OK with our kids getting blown up” — and sought to calm tensions with a joke about the “high-value add” they made to his campaign.He then took the microphone and criticized the city for allowing investigators “to check for infractions of various kinds” in yeshivas. He said he would take a different approach as mayor..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-w739ur{margin:0 auto 5px;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-w739ur{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-w739ur{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-w739ur{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-9s9ecg{margin-bottom:15px;}.css-1jiwgt1{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-box-pack:justify;-webkit-justify-content:space-between;-ms-flex-pack:justify;justify-content:space-between;margin-bottom:1.25rem;}.css-8o2i8v{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-flex-direction:column;-ms-flex-direction:column;flex-direction:column;-webkit-align-self:flex-end;-ms-flex-item-align:end;align-self:flex-end;}.css-8o2i8v p{margin-bottom:0;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-1rh1sk1{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-1rh1sk1 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-1rh1sk1 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1rh1sk1 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#ccd9e3;text-decoration-color:#ccd9e3;}.css-1rh1sk1 a:visited{color:#333;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#ccc;text-decoration-color:#ccc;}.css-1rh1sk1 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}“To the extent that there are issues in individual schools, I think we have to come together with the community and say ‘Look, like, is there something we can do to help?’” Mr. Yang said.“When there are issues, the approach should be one of correction and collegiality rather than contentiousness and adversarialness,” he added. “Which, unfortunately I think, has been the dynamic that the city has engendered for far too long.”Mr. Yang has expressed a willingness to adopt a hands-off approach to yeshivas, winning over many Hasidic leaders.Dave Sanders for The New York TimesMr. Adams has also praised yeshivas, saying he was “genuinely impressed” by one of the schools investigated by the city when he visited in March. But he has stressed that they must meet city standards and seemed to favor intervention when they do not.“We have to ensure that these yeshivas — those that are failing, which is not all the yeshivas, but those that are failing — we have to ensure that they meet the minimum standards,” he recently told The New York Times.The endorsements for Mr. Yang have been notable for how early they arrived. Hasidic leaders tend to wait until polls have established a favorite so they can try to back the winner, said David M. Pollock, the public policy director of the Jewish Community Relations Council of New York.But the fact that ultra-Orthodox voters have voted as a bloc in the past does not mean they are a monolith, Mr. Pollock said.That has been especially clear at the local level. Even in 2013, when Mr. de Blasio won the Borough Park neighborhood, he did so only by a slight margin over William C. Thompson Jr., who beat him in other neighborhoods with large ultra-Orthodox populations.“The dynamic is not that there is one bloc vote, but that there are multiple political players who can deliver votes wholesale,” Mr. Pollock said. That can be especially potent in an election with ranked-choice voting, which this mayoral race is using for the first time.“If you’re not going to endorse someone as your No. 1, you can say, ‘You’ll be our No. 2,’” Mr. Pollock said. “That’s not bad if you can sway 6,000 votes.”Mr. Yang has sought to appeal to Hasidic voters on issues besides education, including support for the right of parents to choose a circumcision ritual, metzitzah b’peh, which is used by a minority of Hasidic mohels and has transmitted herpes to babies, and support for Israel in its conflict with Hamas.But yeshivas have become the dominant issue in part because they play a larger role in Hasidic society than schools do in the secular world, Professor Deutsch said.They employ many Hasidic people, act as a social network that connects people with jobs and marriage prospects and are a primary medium through which the community’s history, values and Yiddish language are passed on to new generations, he said.They are also an important lever of power for community leaders, who can threaten to bar a child from yeshiva to enforce standards of behavior on their parents, such as a prohibition on renting property to gentrifiers, Dr. Deutch said.Indeed, Yoel Greenfeld, a young man leaving prayers at a 24-hour synagogue in Borough Park, said he would vote for Mr. Yang in the general election because Hasidic leaders endorsed him. But he cannot vote in the primary because he is a registered Republican.“I’ll vote for Yang because the community here wants Yang, and when people say that they mean the leaders want Yang,” Mr. Greenfeld said. “My opinion is nothing compared to theirs. But personally, I want a Republican.” More

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    Winners and Losers of the N.Y.C. Mayoral Debate

    Welcome to the Times Opinion scorecard for New York City’s first mayoral debate of 2021, which featured the eight leading Democratic candidates on Thursday night. A mix of Times writers and outside political experts assessed the contenders’ performances and ranked them on a scale of one to 10: one means the candidate probably didn’t belong […] More

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    Kim Janey Becomes Boston's First Black Mayor

    At 11, Kim Janey was bused into a neighborhood where Black students were pelted with rocks. As acting mayor, she hopes to help Boston step out of the shadow of that era.BOSTON — On a September morning in 1976, an 11-year-old Black girl climbed onto a yellow school bus, one of tens of thousands of children sent crisscrossing the city by court order and deposited in the insular neighborhoods of Boston in an effort to force them to integrate.As her bus swung uphill into the heart of the Irish-American enclave of Charlestown, she could see police officers taking protective positions around the bus. After that, the mob: white teenagers and adults, shouting and throwing rocks, telling them to go back to Africa.That girl, Kim Janey, became acting mayor of Boston on Monday, making her the first Black person to occupy the position, at a moment of uncommon opportunity for people of color in this city.With the confirmation of her predecessor, Martin J. Walsh, as U.S. labor secretary, the 91-year succession of Irish-American and Italian-American mayors appears to be ending, creating an opening for communities long shut out of the city’s power politics.It isn’t clear what role Ms. Janey, 55, will play in this moment. As the president of Boston’s City Council, she automatically takes the position for seven months before the November election, and she has not said whether she plans to run. But the five candidates already in the race are all people of color, and racial justice is certain to be a central theme of the campaign.Students arrived by school bus at South Boston High School in Boston on Sept. 8, 1976. An initiative to desegregate Boston Public Schools, put in effect in the fall of 1974, was met with strong resistance from many residents of Boston.Ed Jenner/The Boston Globe, via Getty ImagesNearly 50 years after court-ordered desegregation, Boston, the home of abolitionism, remains profoundly unequal. In 2015, the median net worth for white families in the city was nearly $250,000 compared with just $8 for Black families, according to a study from the Federal Reserve Bank of Boston.Boston’s police force remains disproportionately white. And a recent review of city contracts found that during the first term of Mr. Walsh’s administration, Black-owned firms landed roughly half of 1 percent of the $2.1 billion in prime contracts.None of this comes as a surprise to Bostonians who, like Ms. Janey, came of age in the 1970s — the “kids on the bus,” as one of them put it. Now in their 50s, they are a group without illusions about what it will take to close those gaps.Denella J. Clark, 53, president of the Boston Arts Academy Foundation, carries a scar on her left leg from a broken bottle that was thrown at her by a white woman when she was a 9-year-old being bused into a South Boston elementary school.“I still think we have those people that are throwing bottles, they’re just not doing it overtly,” she said. “When you see some of this change, it’s because people were forced to make those changes, just like in the court case” that led to busing in Boston.Michael Curry, who was 7 when he was first bused into Charlestown, described a similar conclusion: In a city with a limited pool of jobs and contracts, “the people who have taken advantage of those things are being asked to share that pie.”“Boston will not go without a fight,” he said.‘Where Are They Now?’Mr. Curry, now 52, recently realized something: More than four decades after he was bused to the Warren-Prescott elementary school, he has rarely returned to Charlestown.He is middle-aged now, a father of three and a lawyer. But he can still close his eyes and replay the path of that bus as it slid past the Museum of Science, then turned right and crossed into Charlestown, where crowds were waiting, armed with rocks or bricks.“It boggles my mind to this day,” he said. “How much hate and frustration and anger would you have to have to do that to children?”He wonders sometimes about those white parents. “Where are they now?” he said. “Do they look back and say ‘I was there that day’?”This month, Mr. Curry, a former president of Boston’s N.A.A.C.P. branch, reached out to his social media networks, asking friends for their own memories. The responses came back fast — and raw. “Absolutely no interest in recollecting memories from that era,” one said. “It was a nightmare.”One person who has struggled to put that time behind her is Rachel Twymon, 59, whose family’s story was the subject of a Pulitzer Prize-winning 1985 book, “Common Ground,” which later became a television mini-series. Ms. Twymon still seethes at her mother, one of the book’s protagonists, for sending her to school in Charlestown in the name of racial justice.“For adults to think their decision was going to change the world, that was crazy,” said Ms. Twymon, an occupational therapist who lives in New Bedford, Mass. “How dare you put children in harm’s way? How dare you? I have never been able to come to grips with that.”Rachel Twymon outside her home in New Bedford, Mass. She says that she still seethes over her mother’s decision to send her to school in Charlestown in the name of racial justice.Philip Keith for The New York TimesMs. Janey’s recollections of busing are tempered, by comparison.“I had no idea what would be in store,” she said. “When I finally sat on the school bus and faced angry mobs of people, had rocks thrown at our bus, racial slurs hurled at us, I was not expecting that. And there’s nothing that can prepare you for that.”She quickly added, though, that the environment changed as soon as she stepped inside Edwards Middle School, where her closest friend was Cathy, a white girl from an Irish-American family.“The other thing that I would share, and I think this gets lost when we talk about this painful part of our history, is that inside that school building, I was a kid,” she said. “We were children. We cared about who we would play with, and who’s going to play jump rope, and who wants to play hopscotch.”Lost and GainedThe city Ms. Janey will lead as mayor is radically changed, in part because of what happened after busing: The working-class, Irish-American neighborhoods that fiercely resisted integration began to wane under pressure from white flight and gentrification.They had been poor neighborhoods. Patricia Kelly, 69, a Black teacher from New Jersey who was assigned to a Charlestown elementary school in 1974, recalled her shock at the deprivation she encountered there; once, she gingerly approached a boy’s mother about the stench of urine on his clothes and was told that they had no hot water.After busing began, Boston’s public schools lost almost a third of their white students in 18 months, as white families enrolled their children in parochial schools or boycotted schools in protest.For David Arbuckle, 58, who is white, it meant that most of his old friends were gone. He recalled walking to school through crowds of white residents who bellowed at him for violating the antibusing boycott, a daily gantlet that gave him stomachaches.A crowd of antibusing demonstrators storming up East Sixth Street in South Boston armed with rocks and clubs on Feb. 15, 1976. Ulrike Welsch/The Boston Globe, via Getty ImagesFor decades, some of those childhood friends blamed desegregation for ruining their chances in life, Mr. Arbuckle said.“They would tell you, ‘I didn’t get an education because Black people came to my school and took my seat,’” he said. The 1980s only deepened their grievances, he said; factory jobs were drying up, and court-ordered affirmative action policies, many complained, made it more difficult to be hired by the Police or Fire Departments.“It almost feels like a lost generation, to some extent,” said Mr. Arbuckle, who now works in management for the commuter rail system in Boston. Returning to Charlestown as an adult, shuttling his sons to hockey practice, he sometimes wore a suit, straight from the office, and people from the neighborhood “would turn on me because I was a yuppie.”He said it was hard to imagine members of the older generation softening their views, even as the city surrounding them became wealthier and more diverse.“I don’t know if people have to die off,” he said. “I know it sounds awful.”‘A Hundred-Year Fight’Ms. Janey — whose ancestors escaped to Canada through the Underground Railroad and began settling in Boston in the second half of the 19th century — does not dwell on busing when she tells the story of her life, except to say that it was a setback.“It was the first time that I didn’t feel safe in school,” she said. “It was the first time that I was not confident about how teachers felt about me as a little Black girl, the way I felt in elementary school.”Her parents withdrew her as soon as they could, sending her to the middle-class suburb of Reading through a voluntary busing program, starting in the eighth grade. She would go on to work as a community activist, serving at Massachusetts Advocates for Children for almost two decades before running for a seat on the Boston City Council in 2017.She described her work in education, in a talk to students last year, as an extension of the civil rights movement that swept up her parents.“The fight for quality education for Black families in this city dates to the beginning of this country,” she said. “It’s a hundred-year fight.”The fury unleashed by busing reshaped Boston in many ways, including by setting back the ambitions of Black candidates. White anger made it difficult for them to build the multiracial coalitions that were necessary to win citywide office in Boston, said Jason Sokol, a historian and author of “All Eyes Are Upon Us: Race and Politics From Boston to Brooklyn.”“You can’t overlook how powerful the legacy of the battles over school desegregation were,” he said. “The white resistance was so vicious that it didn’t seem like a political system a lot of African-Americans wanted to be part of. It was just very poisoned for a long time.”Michael Curry, former president of the Boston branch of the N.A.A.C.P., outside the Warren-Prescott elementary school. Mr. Curry said he could still close his eyes and remember the school bus crossing into Charlestown, where armed crowds were waiting with rocks and bricks.Philip Keith for The New York TimesMs. Janey, who became mayor when Mr. Walsh stepped down on Monday, will officially take the oath of office on Wednesday, acutely conscious of her place in history.The city will be watching to see if she makes a mark between now and November: The powers of an acting mayor in Boston are limited, and she may have difficulty making key appointments. Ms. Clark of the Boston Arts Academy Foundation, who serves on Ms. Janey’s transition committee, warned against expecting swift change in the city’s politics.“I worry they’re going to block her at every instance,” she said. “We all know what Frederick Douglass said: ‘Power concedes nothing.’ This is Boston. This is a big boys’ game.”Still, Thomas M. Menino, one of Ms. Janey’s predecessors, became acting mayor under similar circumstances, when the city’s mayor was appointed as a U.S. ambassador. Mr. Menino used the platform to build a powerful political base and was elected mayor four months later, becoming the city’s first Italian-American mayor. He went on to be re-elected four times, serving for more than 20 years.Ms. Janey, by all appearances, would like to follow a similar path. Her swearing-in, she said last week, is a moment full of hope, a measure of how far Boston has come.“I’m at a loss for words, because, at 11 years old, I saw firsthand some of the darkest days of our city,” she said. “And here I am.” More

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    $325,000 Settlement for Teacher Over Trump References Removed From Yearbook

    A New Jersey teacher was suspended in 2017 after, she says, the school administration told her to remove a reference to Mr. Trump from a student’s shirt in a photo.For years, Susan Parsons said she was told by administrators to remove “controversial” content from the high school yearbook in Wall Township, N.J.Ms. Parsons, a teacher and the yearbook adviser, said in court papers that she had to erase from a photo a feminist bumper sticker on a student’s laptop, Photoshop “fake” clothing onto shirtless students on a school trip to Bermuda and take out questionable hand gestures.But it wasn’t until 2017 that one particular edit thrust Ms. Parsons and the district into a national firestorm over free expression and political opinion.Ms. Parsons was suspended after removing a reference to Donald J. Trump on a student’s shirt, an action that led to widespread news media attention and death threats, according to a lawsuit she filed against the school district.Ms. Parsons said she had been told by the principal’s secretary to remove Mr. Trump’s name and his slogan, “Make America Great Again.” Ms. Parsons was then publicly scapegoated and muzzled by the district, the suit said.On Tuesday, the district’s board agreed to a $325,000 settlement to resolve her claims. About $204,000 will be paid to Ms. Parsons, and the rest will cover her legal fees and expenses, according to the settlement, which says the district’s insurers will cover the costs.“We are happy that Susan was able to achieve the justice she deserves,” Christopher J. Eibeler, her lawyer, said on Saturday. Under the agreement, previously reported by NJ.com, the district denied any wrongdoing.The district and its lawyer did not respond to requests for comment on Saturday. Cheryl Dyer, who was the superintendent at the time of the photo alteration, said she had retired from the district and could no longer speak for it.In her lawsuit, Ms. Parsons said she felt it was unethical to heavily edit yearbook photos and had complained to the administration that the “yearbook should reflect reality.”She was told to remove the reference to Mr. Trump on the student’s shirt in December 2016 after she went to the administration office to pick up drafts of the yearbook pages, the lawsuit said.Ms. Parsons said she had agreed to alter the photo but was confronted by the student after the yearbooks were handed out in June 2017. “Why did you edit the word Trump off of my shirt?” the student asked. She told him to talk to the principal.Later that day, one of the student’s parents emailed Ms. Parsons, saying the student’s picture had been “edited without his/our permission.”“I would like to understand who made that decision,” the email said, according to the lawsuit. “We felt the shirt he wore was appropriate.”Two other students then complained that a Trump logo and a quote attributed to Mr. Trump had been removed from the yearbook.Ms. Parsons said in her suit that the logo had been cropped out by a photo vendor and a student who worked on the yearbook had left the quote out by mistake. Nevertheless, outrage was already exploding in Wall, a township of about 25,000 near the Jersey Shore that voted for Mr. Trump in 2016 and in 2020.Ms. Parsons said the school administration had begun a public campaign to shield itself from responsibility by creating a “false narrative” that she was responsible for the changes.For example, Ms. Dyer sent a letter to parents on June 9, 2017, that stated, falsely, according to court papers, that “the high school administration was not aware of and does not condone any censorship of political views on the part of our students.”On June 12, 2017, the student whose logo had been removed appeared on one of Mr. Trump’s favorite programs, “Fox & Friends,” and said, “The people or person who did this should be held responsible because it is a violation of mine and other people’s First Amendment rights.”That same day, Ms. Parsons said, she was summoned to a meeting with Ms. Dyer and was suspended. Days later, Mr. Trump drew more attention to the issue, decrying “yearbook censorship” at the high school in a Facebook post.Susan Parsonsvia Susan ParsonsMs. Dyer said at the time that the yearbook alterations had amounted to “censorship and the possible violation of First Amendment rights.”“This allegation is being taken very seriously and a thorough investigation of what happened is being vigorously pursued,” she said in a statement in 2017. The student dress code did not prevent students from expressing their political views or support for a political figure, she said.Ms. Parsons told The New York Post, “We have never made any action against any political party.” That prompted Ms. Dyer to send an email to Ms. Parsons’s union representative to remind her that she did not have permission to speak to the newspaper, the lawsuit said.Ms. Parsons said the superintendent had cited a district media policy that was like a “gag order” that prevented her from defending herself.Ms. Parsons said she had been told to “white out” a sticker on the back of a student’s computer that read, “Feminism is the radical notion that women are people.”New Jersey Superior CourtMs. Parsons, who said in court papers that she had voted for Mr. Trump in 2016, said she was soon inundated with hate mail and harassing phone messages that called her a Nazi, a communist, anti-American and a “treasonous traitor liberal.”She said she had been afraid to use her name when ordering takeout food and feared that drivers might try to hit her when she went for bike rides.When she returned to school in September 2017, she said, she was “disrespected and ridiculed” by students and others who blamed her for removing the Trump references from the yearbook.She sued the district in May 2019 and retired in February 2020. 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    The Unlikely Issue Upending France: Meatless School Lunches

    The Green party mayor of Lyon, a gastronomic capital, introduced no-meat menus in schools. Let the anguish begin.LYON — Grégory Doucet, the mild-mannered Green party mayor of Lyon, hardly seems a revolutionary. But he has upended France by announcing last month that elementary school lunch menus for 29,000 Lyonnais children would no longer include meat.An outrage! An ecological diktat that could signal the end of French gastronomy, even French culture! Ministers in President Emmanuel Macron’s government clashed. If Lyon, the city of beef snouts and pigs’ ears, of saucisson and kidneys, could do such a thing, the apocalypse was surely imminent.“The reaction has been quite astonishing,” Mr. Doucet, 47, said.He is a slight man whose mischievous mien and goatee gives him the air of one of Dumas’s three musketeers. A political neophyte elected last year, he clearly finds it a little ludicrous that he, an apostle of less, should end up with more, sitting beneath a 25-foot ceiling in a cavernous mayor’s office adorned with brocade and busts of his forbears. That tweaking a local school menu has split the nation leaves him incredulous.“My decision was purely pragmatic,” he insisted, eyes twinkling — a means to speed up lunches in socially distanced times by offering a single menu rather than the traditional choice of two dishes.“My decision was purely pragmatic,” said the mayor of Lyon, Grégory Doucet.Andrea Mantovani for The New York TimesNot so, thundered Gérald Darmanin, the interior minister. He tweeted that dropping meat was an “unacceptable insult to French farmers and butchers” that betrays “an elitist and moralist” attitude. Julien Denormandie, the agriculture minister, called the mayor’s embrace of the meatless lunch “shameful from a social point of view” and “aberrational from a nutritional point of view.”All of which prompted Barbara Pompili, the minister of ecological transition, to speak of the “prehistoric” views, full of “hackneyed clichés,” of these men, in effect calling two of her cabinet colleagues Neanderthals.This heated exchange over little illustrated several things. Mr. Macron’s government and party, La République en Marche, remain an uneasy marriage of right and left. The rising popularity of the Greens, who run not only Lyon but also Bordeaux and Grenoble, has sharpened a cultural clash between urban environmental crusaders and the defenders of French tradition in the countryside.Not least, nothing gets the French quite as dyspeptic as disagreement over food.The mayor, it must be said, made his move in a city with an intense gastronomic tradition. At the Boucherie François on the banks of the Rhône, a centennial establishment, Lyon’s culture of meat is on ample display. The veal liver and kidneys glistened; cuts of roast beef wrapped in pork fat abounded; the heads of yellow and white chickens lolled on a counter; the saucissons, some with pistachio, took every cylindrical form; the pastry-wrapped pâté showed off a core of foie gras; and pigs’ trotters and ears betrayed this city’s carnivorous inclinations.“The mayor made a mistake,” said François Teixeira, a butcher who has worked at François for 19 years. “This is not good for Lyon’s image.”François Teixeira at his butcher shop in Lyon. “The mayor made a mistake,” he said.Andrea Mantovani for The New York TimesCertainly, the mayor’s decision came at a sensitive moment. The right in France has expressed indignation that the country is being force-marched, through politically correct environmental dogmatism, toward a future of bicycles, electric cars, veganism, locavores, negative planet-saving growth and general joylessness — something at a very far cry from stuffing goose livers for personal delectation.Last year, Pierre Hurmic, the Green party mayor of Bordeaux, touched a nerve when he rejected the city’s traditional Christmas tree because it’s “a dead tree.” Mr. Doucet’s culinary move was part of “an ideological agenda,” the right-wing weekly Valeurs Actuelles proclaimed in a cover story. “The canteens of Lyon were just a pretext.”Mr. Doucet, who describes himself as a “flexitarian,” or someone who favors vegetables but also eats a little meat, argues that the Education Ministry forced his hand. By doubling social distancing at schools to two meters, or more than six feet, it obliged the mayor to accelerate lunch by offering just one dish.“There’s a mathematical equation,” he said. “You have the same number of tables, but you have to put fewer children at them, and you can’t start the lunch break at 10 a.m.”But why nix meat? The mayor, who has a 7-year-old in elementary school, rolled his eyes. “We have not gone to a vegetarian menu! Every day, the children can eat fish or eggs.” Because a significant number of students already did not eat meat, he said, “we just took the lowest common denominator.”It was not, Mr. Doucet said, an ideological decision, even if he aims over his six-year term to adjust school menus toward “a greater share of vegetable proteins.”The mayor continued: “Most of the time these days there’s not much choice. You don’t have the choice to go to a museum, or to the theater, or to the cinema. It’s indecent for the right-wing opposition to say that I am trampling on our liberties in the context of a state of emergency.”A portrait of Paul Bocuse, one of France’s most celebrated chefs, in Lyon.Andrea Mantovani for The New York TimesMr. Macron has adopted a balancing act between his embrace of a Green future and, as he put it last year, his rejection of “the Amish model” for France. The president tries to differentiate rational from punitive or extreme environmentalism.The president, casting his net wide as usual ahead of regional elections in June, wants to appeal to conservative farmers while attracting some of the Green vote. During a recent visit to a farm, he attacked attempts to forge a new agriculture based on “invective, bans and demagoguery.” In an apparent allusion to the Lyon fiasco, he has said “good sense” should prevail in balanced children’s diets and noted that, “We lose a lot of time in idiotic divisions.”His government has proposed a Constitutional amendment, the first since 2008, that, if approved in a referendum, would add a sentence to the effect that France “guarantees the preservation of the environment and biological diversity and fights against climate change.”The right has expressed opposition to the change. It still has to be reviewed by the right-leaning Senate. Another bill sets out possible reforms for a greener future that include banning advertisements for fossil fuels and eliminating some short-haul domestic flights.Mr. Doucet is unimpressed. “Macron is not an ecologist. He is a modern conservative. He knows there’s a problem, so he is ready to make some changes, but he does not measure the size of the problem. Can you tell me one strong step he has taken?”For now, the meatless Lyon school lunches are still being served. Children seem just fine. Last week, a Lyon administrative court rejected an attempt by some parents, agricultural unions and local conservative politicians to overturn the mayor’s decision, ruling that the “temporary simplification” of school menus did not pose a health risk to children.Mr. Doucet says that when the health crisis eases, but not before, he will be able to offer a choice of school menus again, including meat. Meanwhile, Mr. Denormandie, the agriculture minister, has asked the prefect in the Lyon area to look into the legality of dropping meat.Eggs and fish are still being served in school canteens in Lyon.Andrea Mantovani for The New York Times“Mr. Denormandie’s accusation that we are antisocial is a lie,” Mr. Doucet told me. “He said we were denying meat to the poorest people with the most precarious existences, which is false. He should have been fired at once.”Boris Charetiers, a member of a parents’ association, said the mayor was being closely watched. “We are vigilant,” he said. “We don’t want this to be a definitive decision. Our children cannot be hostages to ecological political conviction.”As for Mr. Teixeira, the butcher, he cast his eye appreciatively over the vast selection of meat. “We have canine teeth for a reason,” he said.Gaëlle Fournier contributed reporting from Paris. More

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    Francia está dispuesta a salvar el planeta. Pero no a costa de la carne

    El alcalde de Lyon, una capital del mundo gastronómico, decidió introducir un menú sin carne en las escuelas. Y así empezó un debate acalorado en el país.LYON, Francia — Grégory Doucet, el afable alcalde de Lyon y miembro del Partido Verde, no parece un revolucionario. Pero ha puesto patas arriba a Francia al anunciar el mes pasado que los menús de las escuelas primarias para 29.000 niños lioneses ya no incluirán carne.¡Un escándalo! Un decreto ecológico que podría marcar el fin de la gastronomía francesa, ¡incluso de la cultura francesa! Los ministros del gobierno del presidente de Francia, Emmanuel Macron, se enfrentaron. Si Lyon, la ciudad del hocico de ternera y las orejas de cerdo, del saucisson y los riñones, podía hacer algo así, el apocalipsis era sin duda inminente.“La reacción ha sido bastante sorprendente”, dijo Doucet, de 47 años.Es un hombre delgado, con un aire pícaro y una barba de chivo que le da el aspecto de uno de los tres mosqueteros de Dumas. Como neófito político elegido el año pasado, está claro que le parece un poco ridículo que él, un apóstol de lo menos, acabe teniendo más, sentado bajo un techo de siete metros en una cavernosa oficina de alcalde adornada con brocados y bustos de sus predecesores. El hecho de que la modificación de un menú escolar local haya dividido a la nación lo deja incrédulo.“Mi decisión fue puramente pragmática”, insistió, con los ojos brillantes: un medio para agilizar los almuerzos en tiempos de distanciamiento social ofreciendo un único menú en lugar de la tradicional elección de dos platillos.“Mi decisión fue puramente pragmática”, dijo el alcalde de Lyon, Grégory Doucet.Andrea Mantovani para The New York TimesNo es así, bramó Gérald Darmanin, el ministro del Interior. Tuiteó que la eliminación de la carne era un “insulto inaceptable a los agricultores y carniceros franceses” que delata una actitud “elitista y moralista”. Julien Denormandie, el ministro de Agricultura, calificó de “vergonzoso desde el punto de vista social” y “aberrante desde el punto de vista nutricional” la adopción del alcalde del almuerzo sin carne.Todo ello llevó a Barbara Pompili, ministra de Transición Ecológica, a hablar de los puntos de vista “prehistóricos”, llenos de “clichés trillados”, de estos hombres, llamando neandertales a dos de sus colegas de gabinete.Esta discusión acalorada por poco ilustra varias cosas. El gobierno y el partido de Macron, La République en Marche, siguen siendo un matrimonio incómodo de derecha e izquierda. La creciente popularidad de los Verdes, que dirigen no solo Lyon sino también Burdeos y Grenoble, ha agudizado un choque cultural entre los cruzados ecologistas urbanos y los defensores de la tradición francesa en el campo.Y no hay nada que ponga a los franceses tan malhumorados como el desacuerdo sobre la comida.Hay que decir que el alcalde hizo su jugada en una ciudad con una intensa tradición gastronómica. En la Boucherie François, a orillas del Ródano, un establecimiento centenario, la cultura lionesa de la carne está muy presente. El hígado y los riñones de ternera brillan; abundan los cortes de ternera asada envueltos en grasa de cerdo; las cabezas de pollos amarillos y blancos reposan sobre un mostrador; los saucissons, algunos con pistacho, adoptan todas las formas cilíndricas; el paté envuelto en hojaldre luce un núcleo de foie gras; y las manitas y orejas de cerdo delatan las inclinaciones carnívoras de esta ciudad.“El alcalde se equivocó”, afirma François Teixeira, carnicero que trabaja en François desde hace 19 años. “Esto no es bueno para la imagen de Lyon”.François Teixeira en su carnicería en Lyon. “El alcalde se equivocó”; dijo.Andrea Mantovani para The New York TimesCiertamente, la decisión del alcalde llega en un momento delicado. La derecha francesa ha expresado su indignación por el hecho de que el país esté siendo conducido a la fuerza, a través de un dogmatismo medioambiental políticamente correcto, hacia un futuro de bicicletas, autos eléctricos, veganismo, localívoros, crecimiento negativo para salvar al planeta y falta de alegría en general, algo que está muy lejos de rellenar hígados de ganso para deleite personal.El año pasado, Pierre Hurmic, alcalde de Burdeos por el Partido Verde, tocó una fibra sensible cuando rechazó el tradicional árbol de Navidad de la ciudad porque es “un árbol muerto”. La medida culinaria de Doucet formaba parte de “una agenda ideológica”, proclamaba el semanario de derecha Valeurs Actuelles en un artículo de portada. “Los comedores escolares de Lyon eran solo un pretexto”.Doucet, quien se describe a sí mismo como “flexitariano”, es decir, alguien que prefiere las verduras, pero que también come un poco de carne, sostiene que el Ministerio de Educación lo obligó a hacerlo. Al duplicar el distanciamiento social en las escuelas a dos metros, o más de dos metros, obligó al alcalde a acelerar el almuerzo ofreciendo un solo plato.“Es una ecuación matemática”, dijo. “Tienes el mismo número de mesas, pero tienes que poner menos niños en ellas, y no puedes empezar la pausa del almuerzo a las 10 a. m.”.Pero ¿por qué suprimir la carne? El alcalde, que tiene un hijo de siete años en la escuela primaria, puso los ojos en blanco. “¡No hemos pasado a un menú vegetariano! Todos los días, los niños pueden comer pescado o huevos”. Como un número importante de alumnos ya no comía carne, dijo, “simplemente tomamos el mínimo común denominador”.No fue, dijo Doucet, una decisión ideológica, aunque su objetivo a lo largo de su mandato sea ajustar los menús escolares hacia “una mayor proporción de proteínas vegetales”.El alcalde continuó: “Hoy en día, la mayoría de las veces no hay muchas opciones. No tienes la opción de ir a un museo, o al teatro, o al cine. Es indecente que la oposición de derecha diga que estoy pisoteando nuestras libertades en el contexto de un estado de emergencia”.Un retrato en Lyon de Paul Bocuse, uno de los chefs más reconocidos de Francia.Andrea Mantovani para The New York TimesMacron ha adoptado un acto de equilibrio entre su abrazo a un futuro verde y, como dijo el año pasado, su rechazo al “modelo Amish” para Francia. El presidente trata de diferenciar el ecologismo racional del punitivo o extremo.El presidente, que como es habitual tiende una red muy amplia de cara a las elecciones regionales de junio, quiere atraer a los agricultores conservadores y a la vez a una parte del voto verde. Durante una reciente visita a una granja, atacó los intentos de forjar una nueva agricultura basada en “invectivas, prohibiciones y demagogia”. En una aparente alusión al fiasco de Lyon, dijo que el “sentido común” debe prevalecer en las dietas equilibradas de los niños y señaló que “perdemos mucho tiempo en divisiones idiotas”.Su gobierno propuso una enmienda constitucional, la primera desde 2008, que, de ser aprobada en referéndum, añadiría una frase en la que Francia “garantiza la preservación del medioambiente y la diversidad biológica y lucha contra el cambio climático”.La derecha expresó su oposición al cambio. Todavía tiene que ser revisado por el Senado, de tendencia derechista. Otro proyecto de ley establece posibles reformas para un futuro más ecológico que incluyen la prohibición de los anuncios de combustibles fósiles y la eliminación de algunos vuelos nacionales de corta distancia.Doucet no está impresionado. “Macron no es un ecologista. Es un conservador moderno. Sabe que hay un problema, así que está dispuesto a hacer algunos cambios, pero no mide el tamaño del problema. ¿Puedes decirme una medida fuerte que haya tomado?”.Por ahora, los almuerzos escolares de Lyon sin carne se siguen sirviendo. Los niños parecen estar bien. El viernes, un tribunal administrativo de Lyon rechazó un intento de algunos padres, sindicatos agrícolas y políticos conservadores locales de anular la decisión del alcalde, dictaminando que la “simplificación temporal” de los menús escolares no suponía un riesgo para la salud de los niños.Doucet afirma que cuando la crisis sanitaria remita, pero no antes, podrá volver a ofrecer una selección de menús escolares que incluya carne. Mientras tanto, Denormandie, el ministro de Agricultura, pidió al prefecto de la zona de Lyon que investigue la legalidad del abandono de la carne.En los comedores escolares de Lyon todavía se sirven huevos y pescado.Andrea Mantovani para The New York Times“La acusación de Denormandie de que somos antisociales es una mentira”, me dijo Doucet. “Dijo que negábamos la carne a las personas más pobres y con vidas más precarias, lo cual es falso. Debería haber sido despedido de inmediato”.Boris Charetiers, miembro de una asociación de padres, dijo que el alcalde estaba siendo observado atentamente. “Estamos vigilantes”, dijo. “No queremos que esta sea una decisión definitiva. Nuestros hijos no pueden ser rehenes de una convicción política ecológica”.En cuanto a Teixeira, el carnicero, dirigió la mirada con aprecio a la amplia selección de carne. “Por algo tenemos dientes caninos”, dijo.Gaëlle Fournier colaboró con el reportaje desde París.Roger Cohen es el jefe de la oficina de París del Times. Fue columnista de Opinión de 2009 a 2020. Ha trabajado para el Times durante más de 30 años y se ha sido corresponsal extranjero y editor extranjero. Criado en Sudáfrica y Gran Bretaña, es un estadounidense naturalizado. @NYTimesCohen More

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    Florida Finds Election Fraud in High School Homecoming Votes

    A student and her mother were arrested after the authorities found more than 100 votes suspiciously cast from a single school login.MIAMI — The report about vote tampering reached the Florida Department of Law Enforcement in early November: Someone had gained access to electronic accounts without authorization. At least 117 votes had been suspiciously cast — in J.M. Tate High School’s election for homecoming court.It was a case reminiscent of the 1999 dark comedy film “Election.”Department agents arrested Laura Carroll, 50, and her daughter, Emily Grover, 17, on Monday and charged them with conspiracy to use Ms. Carroll’s school district login to help Ms. Grover get elected homecoming queen.Laura Rose Carroll was arrested on Monday in Escambia County, Fla.The Escambia County Department of CorrectionsA five-month investigation found that the login for Ms. Carroll, an assistant principal at Bellview Elementary School near Pensacola, was used to gain access to the internal accounts of 372 Tate High students since August. The accounts include personal information such as students’ grades, medical history and disciplinary records.Students use the same accounts with an application to cast votes for homecoming.Ms. Grover often spoke about obtaining students’ information using her mother’s login, eight students and one teacher said in witness statements.“She looks up all of our group of friends’ grades and makes comments about how she can find our test scores all of the time,” one of the witnesses said, according to the arrest affidavits.Escambia County School District employees are supposed to change their password to log in to the internal system every 45 days.One witness told the agents that Ms. Grover had said she knew using her mother’s login would result in a “ping” that showed that Ms. Carroll had logged on at Tate High. Agents interviewed Ms. Carroll in November and knocked on her door last month to talk further, but she referred them to her lawyer, according to her arrest affidavit.Ms. Grover was expelled, according to police records, a decision that the family contested, but the expulsion was upheld. Ms. Carroll was suspended from her job, Tim Smith, the superintendent of the Escambia public schools, said in an email. He declined to comment further.Ms. Carroll was taken into custody on Monday and released on $8,500 bail. Ms. Grover was sent to juvenile detention for an evaluation, according to the Department of Law Enforcement.Through her lawyer, Ms. Carroll declined to comment. “She’d love to give out her side of the story, but it would probably be after we resolve the case,” the lawyer, Randall J. Etheridge, said.The school district’s elections contractor contacted school administrators in October after flagging more than 100 votes that were cast in a short period of time, all from the same unique IP address. The student council coordinator also heard reports that Ms. Grover had boasted about using her mother’s login to get into students’ accounts during the election, according to witness statements.Investigators later determined through IP addresses that 124 votes had been cast from Ms. Carroll’s phone, and 122 from Ms. Carroll’s and Ms. Grover’s residence.On Oct. 30, Ms. Grover was elected homecoming queen.Jack Begg contributed research. More