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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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    The Post-Embarrassment Media Campaign of Andrew Yang

    He once called himself the opposite of Trump. But he is another test of the theory that in politics, there’s no such thing as bad publicity.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?”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.“What are your favorite racial stereotypes?” elicited a nervous laugh. “What can I say about Asians?” Mr. Yang said, one of the “MATH” caps made famous in his presidential campaign visible behind him. And 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. Finally, Mr. Yang offered up “Numb/Encore” (with the rock band Linkin Park), as well as the Kanye West “Watch the Throne” collaboration that he referred to as “Word in Paris.”And yet! There was reason for critics to think Mr. Yang had embarrassed himself and for supporters to think he had helped himself. You could watch the interview and see a naïve glad-hander in over his head or a gutsy good sport. And you might be right either way.This has been the pattern of the Yang campaign in the media, an endless cycle of gaffes and self-owns that have left him at or near the top of the polls despite a paucity of government experience and electoral wins. The Ziwe interview may not have even been the most mortifying Yang clip of the week, which also saw a video of him tossing brick after brick on a city basketball court.He tweeted his love of New York “bodegas” with a video of what looked like a capacious supermarket. He reminisced about waiting “in,” not “on,” line at a “NY restaurant,” Shake Shack. More seriously, he offended a gay Democratic club while seeking an endorsement and walked back an initial response to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that didn’t acknowledge violence against Palestinians.After every incident, he may or may not have gotten more formidable. But after every incident, he got more famous. Fame got him to the front of the pack and — despite repeated pronouncements that the latest immolation would end him — fame has kept him there.Mr. Yang was a mostly willing interviewee as Ziwe asked about topics ranging from racial stereotypes to his favorite subway station. (His answer: Times Square.)Showtime, via YouTubeNo American needs to be told that celebrity is a path to politics. We’ve had Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump; we may have Caitlyn Jenner and Matthew McConaughey. But Mr. Yang represents another advance in the celebritization of politics: He became a celebrity by running for president..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;}The 2020 Democratic debates were a kind of TV serial, with passions and breakout characters (the quotable spiritual guide from the early episodes, the sweeps-month arc about the last-minute billionaire candidate) and a ravenous partisan audience. (To a lesser extent, cable-news exposure also helps candidates like Maya Wiley, whose assets include mediagenic appearances on MSNBC as much as her government and civil-rights work.)His business record was questionable. His political record was sparse. But as Alex Pareene put it in The New Republic, he became “a television character that people have not only heard of but actually like.” On the debate stage, on outlets like the Joe Rogan podcast and as a CNN commentator, he found a following for his advocacy of a universal basic income and his one-liners, like “The opposite of Donald Trump is an Asian man who likes math.”Mr. Yang has plenty of differences from the reality-TV star he ran to replace. But as a mayoral candidate, he is also testing the theory that in today’s politics, there is no such thing as bad publicity. Mr. Trump’s 2016 campaign was a series of detonations that, as a seminal tweet put it, people were confident “ol Donny Trump” would never wriggle his way out of — all of which cemented his place as the lead of the antihero drama.If Mr. Yang’s New York run is more cringe sitcom in genre, we can’t rule out that pattern’s repeating. More than once, people have compared him with Michael Scott of “The Office,” the clueless enthusiast and tourist who praised his favorite authentic New York pizza slice, from Sbarro.But here’s the thing: Michael Scott somehow managed to get and keep that managerial job at Dunder Mifflin. And people happily watched his character for years. Would you want him to be mayor of Scranton, much less the largest city in America? Maybe not. But beyond the vicarious laughs over his embarrassments, viewers responded to his indomitable, unshameable optimism. (Mr. Yang’s own campaign even embraced the comparison last week, tweeting a video of him sinking a basket, with the quote, “‘You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. – Wayne Gretzky’ – Michael Scott.”)And so the character arc of Andrew Yang continues, moment after meme, through one surefire-campaign-killer after another. (The Ziwe offer last week delighted anti-Yang Twitter, which imagined her ending him.) Maybe those incidents will, cumulatively, leave him coming up short.But for now, they are generating him outsized media attention (of which this piece is an example) and putting his name at the top of the credits. It is the sort of feeding frenzy in which it is not always clear who is being eaten and who is doing the eating. One person’s bait, these days, is another person’s meal. More