Category: The Conversation – USA

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Pamela Paxton, Professor of Sociology, The University of Texas at Austin

Hundreds of thousands of U.S. nonprofits provide vital services, such as running food banks and youth programs, supporting public health initiatives and helping unemployed people find new jobs. Although this work helps sustain local communities, obtaining the money and staff they require is a constant struggle for many of these groups.

That’s where AmeriCorps often comes in. The independent federal agency for national service and volunteerism has facilitated the work of approximately 200,000 people a year, placing them through partnerships with thousands of nonprofits that provide tutoring, disaster relief and many other important services.

But Americorps’ fate is now uncertain. In April 2025, the Trump administration canceled more than 1,000 grants, suddenly ending the stipends that were supporting more than 32,000 AmeriCorps volunteers. On June 5, a judge ordered that these grants be restored in Washington D.C. and 24 states in response to a lawsuit they had filed. The judge also ordered that all volunteers who had been deployed in those places be reinstated “if they are willing and able to return.”

The Trump administration has also put most of AmeriCorps administrative staff on leave and indicated that it wants to eliminate the independent agency, along with its US$1.2 billion annual budget. AmeriCorps doesn’t appear in a detailed 2026 budget request the administration released on May 30.

I’m a sociology and public affairs professor who has studied nonprofits and volunteering for decades. My research suggests that dismantling AmeriCorps would harm the organizations that rely on national service members and take a toll on the communities that benefit from their work.

What AmeriCorps does

AmeriCorps traces its roots to the mid-1960s, when Volunteers in Service to America, known as VISTA, was founded as a domestic counterpart to the Peace Corps. Several earlier service programs were consolidated when Congress passed the National and Community Service Trust Act in 1993. AmeriCorps was officially launched in 1994 – and VISTA became one of its programs.

Since then, AmeriCorps members have built housing and infrastructure, delivered disaster relief, tutored in low-income schools, provided health care and helped older adults age with dignity in both urban and rural communities across the nation.

AmeriCorps includes a variety of programs, each designed to address specific public needs. Some AmeriCorps volunteers provide direct services, such as tutoring, food delivery and in disaster response efforts. Others focus on building the long-term capacity of local nonprofits through volunteer recruitment, fundraising strategy and community outreach.

AmeriCorps volunteers, whom the agency calls “members,” are placed in thousands of nonprofits, schools and local agencies. Many of them are recent college graduates or early-career professionals. Some programs specifically ask people over 55 to serve. Those “senior” volunteers support children through the Foster Grandparents program, volunteer for organizations or assist other older people through the Senior Companions program.

Many AmeriCorps volunteers are paid a modest allowance for this work that runs about $500 per week. AmeriCorps senior volunteers receive smaller sums in hourly stipends to offset the costs of volunteering.

Helping nonprofits gain traction

AmeriCorps has long funded research that assesses its impact.

One such study found that every dollar invested in national service generates $11.80 in benefits for society, such as higher earnings, better mental and physical health, and economic growth. Additionally, every federal dollar spent on national service produces $17.30 in savings across other government programs through reductions in public assistance, health and criminal justice spending.

As part of AmeriCorps’ research grants program, I have received funding to study civic engagement and AmeriCorps programming.

In one of those studies, which I conducted with two former colleagues at the University of Texas at Austin in 2021, we found that VISTA volunteers were able to help nonprofits gain volunteers. After two years, an organization with that support had 71% more volunteers than those that didn’t participate in the VISTA program.

We also found that the longer a nonprofit had a staffer supported by the VISTA program, the more its overall pool of volunteers increased.

Nonprofits with VISTA volunteers also had three times as many donations two years later, compared with nonprofits without VISTA service members. But the total value of donations the nonprofit obtained didn’t always rise. That is, we found that VISTA builds people power, but not necessarily fundraising revenue.

Findings like these indicate that AmeriCorps hasn’t just helped the people it serves or the people who volunteer through the program. It also strengthens nonprofits and increases engagement within local communities, reinforcing the civic fabric that knits communities together.

As members of Congress and the White House decide whether to preserve AmeriCorps, I hope they consider the evidence that demonstrates this worthwhile program’s positive impact.

Pamela Paxton has received funding from the Office of Research and Evaluation at AmeriCorps.

– ref. AmeriCorps is on the chopping block – despite research showing that the national service agency is making a difference in local communities – https://theconversation.com/americorps-is-on-the-chopping-block-despite-research-showing-that-the-national-service-agency-is-making-a-difference-in-local-communities-257430

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Rodney Coates, Professor of Critical Race and Ethnic Studies, Miami University

Few issues in the U.S. today are as controversial as diversity, equity and inclusion – commonly referred to as DEI.

Although the term didn’t come into common usage until the 21st century, DEI is best understood as the latest stage in a long American project. Its egalitarian principles are seen in America’s founding documents, and its roots lie in landmark 20th-century efforts such as the 1964 Civil Rights Act and affirmative action policies, as well as movements for racial justice, gender equity, disability rights, veterans and immigrants.

These movements sought to expand who gets to participate in economic, educational and civic life. DEI programs, in many ways, are their legacy.

Critics argue that DEI is antidemocratic, that it fosters ideological conformity and that it leads to discriminatory initiatives, which they say disadvantage white people and undermine meritocracy. Those defending DEI argue just the opposite: that it encourages critical thinking and promotes democracy − and that attacks on DEI amount to a retreat from long-standing civil rights law.

Yet missing from much of the debate is a crucial question: What are the tangible costs and benefits of DEI? Who benefits, who doesn’t, and what are the broader effects on society and the economy?

As a sociologist, I believe any productive conversation about DEI should be rooted in evidence, not ideology. So let’s look at the research.

Who gains from DEI?

In the corporate world, DEI initiatives are intended to promote diversity, and research consistently shows that diversity is good for business. Companies with more diverse teams tend to perform better across several key metrics, including revenue, profitability and worker satisfaction.

Businesses with diverse workforces also have an edge in innovation, recruitment and competitiveness, research shows. The general trend holds for many types of diversity, including age, race and ethnicity, and gender.

A focus on diversity can also offer profit opportunities for businesses seeking new markets. Two-thirds of American consumers consider diversity when making their shopping choices, a 2021 survey found. So-called “inclusive consumers” tend to be female, younger and more ethnically and racially diverse. Ignoring their values can be costly: When Target backed away from its DEI efforts, the resulting backlash contributed to a sales decline.

But DEI goes beyond corporate policy. At its core, it’s about expanding access to opportunities for groups historically excluded from full participation in American life. From this broader perspective, many 20th-century reforms can be seen as part of the DEI arc.

Consider higher education. Many elite U.S. universities refused to admit women until well into the 1960s and 1970s. Columbia, the last Ivy League university to go co-ed, started admitting women in 1982. Since the advent of affirmative action, women haven’t just closed the gender gap in higher education – they outpace men in college completion across all racial groups. DEI policies have particularly benefited women, especially white women, by expanding workforce access.

Similarly, the push to desegregate American universities was followed by an explosion in the number of Black college students – a number that has increased by 125% since the 1970s, twice the national rate. With college gates open to more people than ever, overall enrollment at U.S. colleges has quadrupled since 1965. While there are many reasons for this, expanding opportunity no doubt plays a role. And a better-educated population has had significant implications for productivity and economic growth.

The 1965 Immigration Act also exemplifies DEI’s impact. It abolished racial and national quotas, enabling the immigration of more diverse populations, including from Asia, Africa, southern and eastern Europe and Latin America. Many of these immigrants were highly educated, and their presence has boosted U.S. productivity and innovation.

Ultimately, the U.S. economy is more profitable and productive as a result of immigrants.

What does DEI cost?

While DEI generates returns for many businesses and institutions, it does come with costs. In 2020, corporate America spent an estimated US$7.5 billion on DEI programs. And in 2023, the federal government spent more than $100 million on DEI, including $38.7 million by the Department of Health and Human Services and another $86.5 million by the Department of Defense.

The government will no doubt be spending less on DEI in 2025. One of President Donald Trump’s first acts in his second term was to sign an executive order banning DEI practices in federal agencies – one of several anti-DEI executive orders currently facing legal challenges. More than 30 states have also introduced or enacted bills to limit or entirely restrict DEI in recent years. Central to many of these policies is the belief that diversity lowers standards, replacing meritocracy with mediocrity.

But a large body of research disputes this claim. For example, a 2023 McKinsey & Company report found that companies with higher levels of gender and ethnic diversity will likely financially outperform those with the least diversity by at least 39%. Similarly, concerns that DEI in science and technology education leads to lowering standards aren’t backed up by scholarship. Instead, scholars are increasingly pointing out that disparities in performance are linked to built-in biases in courses themselves.

That said, legal concerns about DEI are rising. The Equal Employment Opportunity Commission and Department of Justice have recently warned employers that some DEI programs may violate Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Anecdotal evidence suggests that reverse discrimination claims, particularly from white men, are increasing, and legal experts expect the Supreme Court to lower the burden of proof needed by complainants for such cases.

The issue remains legally unsettled. But while the cases work their way through the courts, women and people of color will continue to shoulder much of the unpaid volunteer work that powers corporate DEI initiatives. This pattern raises important equity concerns within DEI itself.

What lies ahead for DEI?

People’s fears of DEI are partly rooted in demographic anxiety. Since the U.S. Census Bureau projected in 2008 that non-Hispanic white people would become a minority in the U.S by the year 2042, nationwide news coverage has amplified white fears of displacement.

Research indicates many white men experience this change as a crisis of identity and masculinity, particularly amid economic shifts such as the decline of blue-collar work. This perception aligns with research showing that white Americans are more likely to believe DEI policies disadvantage white men than white women.

At the same time, in spite of DEI initiatives, women and people of color are most likely to be underemployed and living in poverty regardless of how much education they attain. The gender wage gap remains stark: In 2023, women working full time earned a median weekly salary of $1,005 compared with $1,202 for men − just 83.6% of what men earned. Over a 40-year career, that adds up to hundreds of thousands of dollars in lost earnings. For Black and Latina women, the disparities are even worse, with one source estimating lifetime losses at $976,800 and $1.2 million, respectively.

Racism, too, carries an economic toll. A 2020 analysis from Citi found that systemic racism has cost the U.S. economy $16 trillion since 2000. The same analysis found that addressing these disparities could have boosted Black wages by $2.7 trillion, added up to $113 billion in lifetime earnings through higher college enrollment, and generated $13 trillion in business revenue, creating 6.1 million jobs annually.

In a moment of backlash and uncertainty, I believe DEI remains a vital if imperfect tool in the American experiment of inclusion. Rather than abandon it, the challenge now, from my perspective, is how to refine it: grounding efforts not in slogans or fear, but in fairness and evidence.

Rodney Coates does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Beyond the backlash: What evidence shows about the economic impact of DEI – https://theconversation.com/beyond-the-backlash-what-evidence-shows-about-the-economic-impact-of-dei-252143

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Matthew Pittman, Associate Professor of Advertising and Public Relations, University of Tennessee

Curious Kids is a series for children of all ages. If you have a question you’d like an expert to answer, send it to CuriousKidsUS@theconversation.com.

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How does a person become famous when they’re just a kid? – Anushka, age 9, St. Augustine, Florida

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First, consider what kind of fame you want. Some kids, such as Blue Ivy Carter or Suri Cruise, are known for having famous parents – in their cases, singer Beyoncé and actors Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise. That’s something you can’t really control.

Maybe you want to be a star athlete, like basketball player Caitlin Clark or skateboarder Sky Brown. If you’re good at a sport, practicing a lot will make you even better, and you might get famous.

Or maybe you want to be a famous musician. Singer LeAnn Rimes won her first Grammy Award at age 14. Justin Bieber was discovered on YouTube when he was 12. If you work hard at playing an instrument or singing, you increase your chances of getting noticed.

A newer way to become famous is to be a social media influencer – a person who gets paid, either with money or with stuff, to help sell things on social media. A 2023 survey of 1,000 Gen Zers – people in their early teens to mid-20s – found that 57% wanted to become influencers.

I study social media and teach a social media class at the University of Tennessee. I also have a side gig as an influencer. My posts have gone viral and been seen hundreds of millions of times all around the world. I post silly and serious things about my life on Instagram and TikTok.

Here are some things to know about fame at a young age.

There wasn’t always a youth culture

Before modern times, people didn’t pay much attention to children in the way that we do now. There were a few exceptions, such as composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who played music as a child for kings and queens in the 1700s, but they were rare.

Things changed a lot as the U.S. population boomed after World War II. Businesses realized that young people were a big market, and a new, youth-focused culture developed. Movies, TV shows and songs were increasingly made for young people, featuring young people.

Now, thanks to social media and the internet, kids can get famous without being star athletes or actors. If you can make videos, sing songs, tell jokes or share art from your phone or computer and people like what you post, they might share it with others. Some kids become famous just by being really good at explaining things or showing their everyday lives.

For example, Anastasia Radzinskaya, an 11-year-old Russian American girl who shares content about children’s songs and games, has 1.5 million followers on Instagram. Ethan Gamer, a video game influencer, started appearing on YouTube in 2013 at age 7.

Pros and cons

Being a famous kid can offer a lot of benefits. You might get to appear on TV or in movies, wear cool clothes, or hang out with famous athletes or celebrities. You might also get to make money that you could use to support your family, pay for a high-quality education or fund causes that you care about, such as protecting nature or feeding hungry people.

But there also are downsides. Famous kids often have to work a lot and don’t have much time to hang out with friends. Also, people may say hurtful things about you on social media, which is something you can’t control.

Being famous can pressure people to act or dress in certain ways. Handling attention and criticism from strangers can be stressful for any young person, and fame makes the challenge much harder.

Should you try to be an influencer?

For me, influencing can be fun and creative. It’s cool to make a video and know that lots of people around the world are enjoying it.

Another plus is that the skills you need to be an influencer – communicating clearly, producing digital content and helping other people find cool new products – can be valuable as you grow up, no matter what job you have.

However, most influencers don’t make enough money to do it full time – they do it as a side gig while working a real job. If you are a kid, school should be your full-time job.

You also should expect to get rejected a lot before you start developing an audience. This can make you emotionally strong in the long run, but it still hurts when you share your work and no one seems to notice. Most influencers put in years of effort to learn the skills that help make them successful.

You’re likely to get negative responses that can hurt your feelings. You will need your parents’ help to manage online feedback and know how to react to all kinds of responses, positive and negative.

It’s definitely possible for kids to be famous today, but that doesn’t mean that every kid should try. What’s important is to do things that you enjoy, even if the whole world isn’t watching.

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Hello, curious kids! Do you have a question you’d like an expert to answer? Ask an adult to send your question to CuriousKidsUS@theconversation.com. Please tell us your name, age and the city where you live.

And since curiosity has no age limit – adults, let us know what you’re wondering, too. We won’t be able to answer every question, but we will do our best.

Matthew Pittman’s influencer posts focus on his college teaching and family life. He occasionally receives products or payments in return for promoting toys, teaching tools and family games.

– ref. How does a person become famous when they’re just a kid? – https://theconversation.com/how-does-a-person-become-famous-when-theyre-just-a-kid-255820

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Tanya Olson, Associate Teaching Professor, University of Maryland, Baltimore County

On March 15, 1974, the Grand Ole Opry country music radio show closed its run at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, Tennessee, with Johnny and June Carter Cash leading the song “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.” After that final show, a six-foot circle of wood was cut from the Ryman stage and moved to the new Grand Ole Opry House.

The next night, Roy Acuff opened the first show at the new venue. A video of Acuff singing in the 1940s played before the screen lifted to reveal Acuff himself, singing live in the same spot. The message was clear: Though the stage had changed, the story continued. The circle had not been broken.

The Opry began on WSM on Nov. 28, 1925, and is celebrating its centennial with a series of concerts and tributes under the name Opry 100. On March 19, 2025, Reba McEntire stepped onto the iconic circle on the Grand Ole Opry stage and kicked off NBC’s Opry 100 celebration with a verse of “Sweet Dreams.”

The final song of the night was “Will the Circle Be Unbroken,” performed by country legends like Bill Anderson and Jeannie Seely alongside newcomers like Lainey Wilson and Post Malone. It was a moment meant to celebrate 100 years of country music tradition and connection with a stage full of voices harmonizing across generations. A circle, unbroken.

But that night in March, one group of country performers was missing. Not a single openly gay, lesbian or bisexual artist appeared onstage during the anniversary celebration. In a moment designed to honor the full sweep of the genre’s past and future, a long line of country musicians was left standing outside the spotlight once again.

A slowly opening circle

Country music has never been without queer voices, but it regularly refuses to acknowledge them.

From 1962 to 1982, Wilma Burgess had 15 songs on Billboard’s Hot Country chart and two Grammy Award nominations. She recorded with legendary producer Owen Bradley and had Top 10 hits like “Misty Blue.” Despite this success, Burgess never played the Opry. Though Burgess was never publicly out, her sexuality was common knowledge in recording circles. In the 1980s, she left music and opened The Hitching Post, Nashville’s first lesbian bar. Like so many queer country artists, Burgess had to build her legacy outside the circle.

In the 1980s and 90s, k.d. lang and Sid Spencer expanded the presence of queer artists in country music. Lang won two Grammys and performed at the Opry, but she was labeled “cowpunk” and left the genre before coming out in 1992. Spencer released albums and toured widely within the gay rodeo circuit, but he was never recognized by mainstream country before his 1996 death from AIDS-related complications.

The 2000s offered small openings. Mary Gauthier became the first openly queer artist to perform on the Opry stage in 2005. Chely Wright had a No. 1 country single before coming out in 2010, but didn’t return to the Opry until 2019. Ty Herndon charted 17 singles before coming out in 2014. He wouldn’t appear at the Opry again until 2023.

These artists established themselves first and came out later, at great professional cost. The Opry hosts 5–6 shows a week, featuring 6–8 artists each night. In that context, a nine-year absence isn’t just a scheduling gap. In addition, the Grand Ole Opry currently has 76 members, a special designation indicating a level of success in country music. None of them identify as LGBTQ+.

Today, there are signs of change. Lily Rose, who has been openly queer since the beginning of her career, receives radio play, has songs on the charts and tours widely. But she remains the exception, not the rule. Other openly LGBTQ+ artists like Paisley Fields, Mya Byrne and Amythyst Kiah are recording, performing and building loyal audiences, but they are still rarely featured on country radio or invited onto the Opry stage. The circle may be widening, but for many queer artists, it’s still just out of reach.

The importance of the circle

In country music, visibility isn’t just symbolic. If you’re not on the radio, you don’t chart. If you don’t chart, you don’t tour. Without that platform, you can’t build a legacy.

Country radio and the Opry stage serve as gatekeepers of who counts. In 2015, a radio consultant infamously compared women artists to “tomatoes in the salad,” stating a few were fine, but they shouldn’t dominate. That same logic has long applied to queer artists; they can be tolerated at the edges but are rarely treated as essential.

Genre labeling becomes another barrier. Brandi Carlile and Brandy Clark both openly identify as lesbians and have been embraced by country audiences and critics alike, but they are routinely categorized as Americana artists. That rebranding often functions as a fence that keeps artists close enough to celebrate, but far enough to exclude.

Reimagining the circle

The Opry’s centennial celebrations are scheduled to continue through the end of 2025 with a concert at London’s Royal Albert Hall and a final anniversary show in Nashville on Nov. 28. Perhaps openly queer artists will take the stage at those events. If they do, it won’t just be symbolic; it will be a long overdue acknowledgment of artists who have always been here, even if they weren’t always seen.

Country music’s strength lies in how it braids together American traditions: gospel and blues, Black and white, rural and urban, old and new. It’s not a genre built on purity, but one that relies on the mix. That mix is what makes country music American – and what makes it endure.

If the circle on the Opry stage is meant to stand for country music itself, then I hope it will be like the music: honest and able to grow. If “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” is more of a promise than just a closing number, the future of country music depends on who’s allowed in the circle to sing it next.

Tanya Olson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Queer country: LGBTQ+ musicians are outside the spotlight as Grand Ole Opry turns 100 – https://theconversation.com/queer-country-lgbtq-musicians-are-outside-the-spotlight-as-grand-ole-opry-turns-100-251892

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Deyanira Nevárez Martínez, Assistant Professor of Urban and Regional Planning, Michigan State University

In cities across the U.S., the housing crisis has reached a breaking point. Rents are skyrocketing, homelessness is rising and working-class neighborhoods are threatened by displacement.

These challenges might feel unprecedented. But they echo a moment more than half a century ago.

In the 1950s and 1960s, housing and urban inequality were at the center of national politics. American cities were grappling with rapid urban decline, segregated and substandard housing, and the fallout of highway construction and urban renewal projects that displaced hundreds of thousands of disproportionately low-income and Black residents.

The federal government decided to try to do something about it.

President Lyndon B. Johnson launched one of the most ambitious experiments in urban policy: the Model Cities Program.

As a scholar of housing justice and urban planning, I’ve studied how this short-lived initiative aimed to move beyond patchwork fixes to poverty and instead tackle its structural causes by empowering communities to shape their own futures.

Building a great society

The Model Cities Program emerged in 1966 as part of Johnson’s Great Society agenda, a sweeping effort to eliminate poverty, reduce racial injustice and expand social welfare programs in the United States.

Earlier urban renewal programs had been roundly criticized for displacing communities of color. Much of this displacement occurred through federally funded highway and slum clearance projects that demolished entire neighborhoods and often left residents without decent options for new housing.

So the Johnson administration sought a more holistic approach. The Demonstration Cities and Metropolitan Development Act established a federal framework for cities to coordinate housing, education, employment, health care and social services at the neighborhood level.

To qualify for the program, cities had to apply for planning grants by submitting a detailed proposal that included an analysis of neighborhood conditions, long-term goals and strategies for addressing problems.

Federal funds went directly to city governments, which then distributed them to local agencies and community organizations through contracts. These funds were relatively flexible but had to be tied to locally tailored plans. For example, Kansas City, Missouri, used Model Cities funding to support a loan program that expanded access to capital for local small businesses, helping them secure financing that might otherwise have been out of reach.

Unlike previous programs, Model Cities emphasized what Johnson described as “comprehensive” and “concentrated” efforts. It wasn’t just about rebuilding streets or erecting public housing. It was about creating new ways for government to work in partnership with the people most affected by poverty and racism.

A revolutionary approach to poverty

What made Model Cities unique wasn’t just its scale but its philosophy. At the heart of the program was an insistence on “widespread citizen participation,” which required cities that received funding to include residents in the planning and oversight of local programs.

The program also drew inspiration from civil rights leaders. One of its early architects, Whitney M. Young Jr., had called for a “Domestic Marshall Plan” – a reference to the federal government’s efforts to rebuild Europe after World War II – to redress centuries of racial inequality.

Young’s vision helped shape the Model Cities framework, which proposed targeted systemic investments in housing, health, education, employment and civic leadership in minority communities. In Atlanta, for example, the Model Cities Program helped fund neighborhood health clinics and job training programs. But the program also funded leadership councils that for the first time gave local low-income residents a direct voice in how city funds were spent.

In other words, neighborhood residents weren’t just beneficiaries. They were planners, advisers and, in some cases, staffers.

This commitment to community participation gave rise to a new kind of public servant – what sociologists Martin and Carolyn Needleman famously called “guerrillas in the bureaucracy.”

These were radical planners – often young, idealistic and deeply embedded in the neighborhoods they served. Many were recruited and hired through new Model Cities funding that allowed local governments to expand their staff with community workers aligned with the program’s goals.

Working from within city agencies, these new planners used their positions to challenge top-down decision-making and push for community-driven planning.

Their work was revolutionary not because they dismantled institutions but because they reimagined how institutions could function, prioritizing the voices of residents long excluded from power.

Strengthening community ties

In cities across the country, planners fought to redirect public resources toward locally defined priorities.

In some cities, such as Tucson, the program funded education initiatives such as bilingual cultural programming and college scholarships for local students. In Baltimore, it funded mobile health services and youth sports programs.

In New York City, the program supported new kinds of housing projects called vest-pocket developments, which got their name from their smaller scale: midsize buildings or complexes built on vacant lots or underutilized land. New housing such as the Betances Houses in the South Bronx were designed to add density without major redevelopment taking place – a direct response to midcentury urban renewal projects, which had destroyed and displaced entire neighborhoods populated by the city’s poorest residents. Meanwhile, cities such as Seattle used the funds to renovate older apartment buildings instead of tearing them down, which helped preserve the character of local neighborhoods.

The goal was to create affordable housing while keeping communities intact.

What went wrong?

Despite its ambitious vision, Model Cities faced resistance almost from the start. The program was underfunded and politically fragile. While some officials had hoped for US$2 billion in annual funding, the actual allocation was closer to $500 million to $600 million, spread across more than 60 cities.

Then the political winds shifted. Though designed during the optimism of the mid-1960s, the program started being implemented under President Richard Nixon in 1969. His administration pivoted away from “people programs” and toward capital investment and physical development. Requirements for resident participation were weakened, and local officials often maintained control over the process, effectively marginalizing the everyday citizens the program was meant to empower.

In cities such as San Francisco and Chicago, residents clashed with bureaucrats over control, transparency and decision-making. In some places, participation was reduced to token advisory roles. In others, internal conflict and political pressure made sustained community governance nearly impossible.

Critics, including Black community workers and civil rights activists, warned that the program risked becoming a new form of “neocolonialism,” one that used the language of empowerment while concentrating control in the hands of white elected officials and federal administrators.

A legacy worth revisiting

Although the program was phased out by 1974, its legacy lived on.

In cities across the country, Model Cities trained a generation of Black and brown civic leaders in what community development leaders and policy advocates John A. Sasso and Priscilla Foley called “a little noticed revolution.” In their book of the same name, they describe how those involved in the program went on to serve in local government, start nonprofits and advocate for community development.

It also left an imprint on later policies. Efforts such as participatory budgeting, community land trusts and neighborhood planning initiatives owe a debt to Model Cities’ insistence that residents should help shape the future of their communities. And even as some criticized the program for failing to meet its lofty goals, others saw its value in creating space for democratic experimentation.

Today’s housing crisis demands structural solutions to structural problems. The affordable housing crisis is deeply connected to other intersecting crises, such as climate change, environmental injustice and health disparities, creating compounding risks for the most vulnerable communities. Addressing these issues through a fragmented social safety net – whether through housing vouchers or narrowly targeted benefit programs – has proven ineffective.

Today, as policymakers once again debate how to respond to deepening inequality and a lack of affordable housing, the lost promise of Model Cities offers vital lessons.

Model Cities was far from perfect. But it offered a vision of how democratic, local planning could promote health, security and community.

This article is part of a series centered on envisioning ways to deal with the housing crisis.

Deyanira Nevárez Martínez is a trustee of the Lansing School District Board of Education and is currently a candidate for the Lansing City Council Ward 2.

– ref. Could a bold anti-poverty experiment from the 1960s inspire a new era in housing justice? – https://theconversation.com/could-a-bold-anti-poverty-experiment-from-the-1960s-inspire-a-new-era-in-housing-justice-253706

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Richard Gunderman, Chancellor’s Professor of Medicine, Liberal Arts, and Philanthropy, Indiana University

When Western Electric invented electrical sound recording 100 years ago, it completely transformed the public’s relationship to music.

Before then, recording was done mechanically, scratching sound waves onto rolled paper or a cylinder. Such recordings suffered from low fidelity and captured only a small segment of the audible sound spectrum.

By using electrical microphones, amplifiers and electromechanical recorders, record companies could capture a far wider range of sound frequencies, with much higher fidelity. For the first time, recorded sound closely resembled what a live listener would hear. Over the ensuing years, sales of vinyl records and record players boomed.

The technology also allowed some enterprising music fans to make recordings in surprising and innovative ways. As a physician and scholar in the medical humanities, I am fascinated by the use of X-ray film to make recordings – what was known as “bone music,” or “ribs.”

This rather bizarre, homemade technology became a way to skirt censors in the Soviet Union – and even played an indirect role in its dissolution.

Skirting the Soviet censorship regime

At the end of World War II, Soviet censorship shifted into high gear in an effort to suppress a Western culture deemed threatening or decadent.

Many books and poems could circulate only through “samizdat,” a portmanteau of “self” and “publishing” that involved the use of copy machines to reproduce forbidden texts. Punishments inflicted on Soviet artists and citizens for producing or disseminating censored materials included loss of employment, imprisonment in gulags and even execution.

The phonographic analog of samizdat was often referred to as “roentgenizdat,” which was derived from the name of Wilhelm Roentgen, the German scientist who received the first Nobel Prize in physics in 1901 for his discovery of X-rays.

Roentgen’s work revolutionized medicine, making it possible to peer inside the living human body without cutting it open and enabling physicians to more easily and accurately diagnose skeletal fractures and diseases such as pneumonia.

Today, X-rays are produced and stored digitally. But for most of the 20th century they were created on photographic film and stored in large film libraries, which took up a great deal of space.

Because exposed X-ray films cannot be reused, hospitals often recycled them to recoup the silver they contained.

Making music from medicine

In the Soviet Union in the 1940s, some clever people realized that X-ray film was just soft enough to be etched by an electromechanical lathe, or sound recording device.

To make a “rib,” or “bone record,” they would use a compass to trace out a circle on an exposed X-ray film that might bear the image of a patient’s skull, spine or hands. They then used scissors to cut out the circle, before cutting a small hole in the middle so it would fit on a conventional record player.

Then they would use a recording device to cut either live sound or, more commonly, a bootleg record onto the X-ray film. Sound consists of vibrations that the lathe’s stylus etches into grooves on the disc. Such devices were not widely available, meaning that only a relatively small number of people could produce such recordings.

The censors kept a close eye on record companies. But anyone who could obtain a recording device could record music on pieces of X-ray film, and these old films could be obtained after hospitals threw them out or purchased at a relatively low price from hospital employees.

Compared with professionally produced vinyl records, the sound quality was poor, with recordings marred by extraneous noises such as hisses and crackles. The records could be played only a limited number of times before the grooves would wear out.

Nonetheless, these resourceful recordings were shared, bought and sold entirely outside of official channels into the 1960s and 1970s.

A window into another life

Popular artists “on the bone” included Ella Fitzgerald and Elvis Presley, whose jazz and rock ’n’ roll recordings, to the ears of many Soviet citizens, represented freedom and self-expression.

In his book “Bone Music,” cultural historian Stephen Coates describes how Soviet authorities viewed performers such as The Beatles as toxic because they appeared to promote a brand of amoral hedonism and distracted citizens from Communist party priorities.

One Soviet critic of bone music recalled of its purveyors:

“It is true that from time to time they are caught, their equipment confiscated, and they may even be brought to court. But then they may be released and be free to go wherever they like. The judges decide that they are, of course, parasites, but they are not dangerous. They are getting suspended sentences! But these record producers are not just engaged in illegal operations. They corrupt young people diligently and methodically with a squeaky cacophony and spread explicit obscenities.”

Bone music was inherently subversive.

For one thing, it was against the law. Moreover, the music itself suggested that a different sort of life is possible, beyond the strictures of Communist officials. How could a political system that prohibited beautiful music, many asked, possibly merit the allegiance of its citizens?

The ability of citizens to get around the censors and spread Western thought, whether through books or bone music, helped chip away at the government’s legitimacy.

One Soviet-era listener Coates interviewed long after the USSR’s collapse described the joy of listening to these illicit recordings:

“I was lifted up off the ground, I started flying. Rock’n’roll showed me a new world, a world of music, words, and feelings, of life, of a different lifestyle. That’s why, when I got my first records, I became a happy man. I felt like a changed person, it was as if I was born again.”

Richard Gunderman does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. When Elvis and Ella were pressed onto X-rays – the subversive legacy of Soviet ‘bone music’ – https://theconversation.com/when-elvis-and-ella-were-pressed-onto-x-rays-the-subversive-legacy-of-soviet-bone-music-251885

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Trevin Corsiglia, PhD Candidate in Comparative Literature and Thought, Washington University in St. Louis

When I read and study Walt Whitman’s poetry, I often imagine what he would’ve done if he had a smartphone and an Instagram account.

Unlike many of his contemporaries, the poet collected an “abundance of photographs” of himself, as Whitman scholar Ed Folsom points out. And like many people today who snap and post thousands of selfies, Whitman, who lived during the birth of commercial photography, used portraits to craft a version of the self that wasn’t necessarily grounded in reality.

One of those portraits, taken by photographer Curtis Taylor, was commissioned by Whitman in the 1870s.

In it, the poet is seated nonchalantly, with a moth or butterfly appearing to have landed on his outstretched finger. According to at least two of his friends, Philadelphia attorney Thomas Donaldson and nurse Elizabeth Keller, this was Whitman’s favorite photograph.

Though he told his friends that the winged insect happened to land on his finger during the shoot, it turned out to be a cardboard prop.

Feigned spontaneity

The scene with the butterfly reflects one of the main themes of Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass,” his best-known collection of poems: The universe is naturally drawn to the poet.

“To me the converging objects of the world perpetually flow,” he insists in “Song of Myself.”

“I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop,” Whitman adds. “They seize every object and lead it harmlessly through me.”

Whitman told Horace Traubel, the poet’s close friend and earliest biographer, that “[y]es – that was an actual moth, the picture is substantially literal.” Likewise, he told historian William Roscoe Thayer: “I’ve always had the knack of attracting birds and butterflies and other wild critters.”

Of course, historians now know that the butterfly was, in fact, a cutout, which currently resides at the Library of Congress.

So what was Whitman doing? Why would he lie? I can’t get inside his head, but I suspect he wanted to impress his audience, to verify that the protagonist of “Leaves of Grass,” the one with “instant conductors,” was not a fictional creation.

Today’s selfies often give the impression of having been taken on the spot. In reality, many of them are a carefully calculated creative act.

Media scholars James E. Katz and Elizabeth Thomas Crocker have argued that most selfie-takers strive for informality even as they carefully stage the images. In other words, the selfie weds the spontaneous to the intentional.

Whitman does exactly this, presenting a designed photo as if it were a happy accident.

Too much me

As Whitman biographer Justin Kaplan notes, no other writer at the time “was so systematically recorded or so concerned with the strategic uses of his pictures and their projective meanings for himself and the public.”

The poet jumped at the opportunity to have his photo taken. There is, for instance, the famous portrait of the young, carefree poet that was used as the frontispiece for the first edition of “Leaves of Grass.” Or the 1854 photograph of a bearded and unkempt Whitman likely captured by Gabriel Harrison. Or the 1869 image of Whitman smiling lovingly at Peter Doyle, the poet’s intimate friend and probable lover.

Some social scientists have argued that today’s selfies can aid in the search for one’s “authentic self” – figuring out who you are and understanding what makes you tick.

Other researchers have taken a less rosy view of the selfie, warning that snapping too many can be a sign of low self-esteem and can, paradoxically, lead to identity confusion, particularly if they’re taken to seek external validation.

Whitman spent his life searching for what he termed the “Me myself” or the “real Me.” Photography provided him another medium, besides poetry, to carry on this search. But it seems to have ultimately failed him.

Having collected these images, he would then obsessively chew over what they all added up to, ultimately finding that he was far more lost than found in this sea of portraits.

I wonder if – to use today’s parlance – Whitman “scrolled” his way into a crisis of self-identity, overwhelmed by the sheer number of photos he possessed and the various, contradictory selves they represented.

“I meet new Walt Whitmans every day,” he once said. “There are a dozen of me afloat. I don’t know which Walt Whitman I am.”

Trevin Corsiglia does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Like today’s selfie-takers, Walt Whitman used photography to curate his image – but ended up more lost than found – https://theconversation.com/like-todays-selfie-takers-walt-whitman-used-photography-to-curate-his-image-but-ended-up-more-lost-than-found-256195

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Olga Ensz, Clinical Assistant Professor of Community Dentistry, University of Florida

“He hides his smile in every school photo,” Jayden’s mother told me, holding up a picture of her 6-year-old son.

I first met Jayden – not his real name – as a patient at the University of Florida community dental outreach program in Gainesville, Florida. Jayden had visible cavities on his front teeth – dark spots that had become the target of teasing and bullying by classmates. The pain had become so severe that he began missing school. His family, living in a rural part of north Florida, had spent months trying to find a dentist who accepted Medicaid.

In the meantime, Jayden stopped smiling.

As a dental public health professional working in community dental outreach settings, I’ve seen firsthand how children across the state face significant barriers to achieving good oral health. Despite being largely preventable, tooth decay remains the most common chronic disease among children in the U.S., and Florida is no exception.

Pediatric dental health in Florida

Untreated dental problems can lead to pain, infection, difficulty eating or sleeping, and even affect a child’s ability to concentrate and learn. Poor oral health has also been linked to broader health issues such as heart disease.

According to the most recent data available from the Florida Department of Health, nearly 1 in 3 third graders in the Sunshine State had untreated tooth decay – that is, cavities – during the 2021–2022 school year. That’s almost double the national average of 17% of children ages 6-9 with untreated tooth decay and underscores the severity of the issue in Florida.

In addition, only 37% of Florida third graders had dental sealants. These thin coatings applied to the chewing surfaces of molars are proven to prevent up to 80% of cavities. Nationwide, 51.4% of kids have this cost-effective treatment.

The most recent data available from the 2017-2018 school year shows that 24% of children ages 3-6 in Florida’s Head Start program, which provides free health and education for low-income families with young children, had untreated tooth decay. By comparison, the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention found that 11% of U.S. children ages 2-5 had untreated decay.

These numbers represent children like Jayden, whose pain and missed school days are preventable.

A 2023 report found that Florida children are increasingly visiting emergency rooms for nontraumatic dental conditions. Besides being costly and stressful for families, these visits generally provide only temporary relief. Emergency departments simply aren’t equipped to offer dental care that addresses the root problem.

Slipping through the cracks

Florida ranks among the worst states in the U.S. for dental care access, with over 5.9 million residents living in dental care health professional shortage areas. In fact, 65 of Florida’s 67 counties face shortages of dental professionals, with some areas reporting just 6.6 dentists per 100,000 people – far below the national average of 60.4.

This lack of access to care is compounded by poverty and insurance limitations.

More than 2 million Florida children are enrolled in Medicaid, but only 18% of Florida dentists – about 2,500 in total – accept it. And even families with private insurance often face high out-of-pocket costs, making essential dental care unaffordable for some. Delaying routine dental visits can allow minor issues to worsen over time, ultimately requiring more complex and costly treatment.

As a result, Florida ranks 43rd out of 50 states in the percentage of children receiving dental care in the past year.

Lack of awareness is also a problem. Research shows that many parents don’t realize their children should see a dentist by their first birthday, and that baby teeth matter just as much as adult teeth.

Prevention works

Historically, community water fluoridation has been one of the most effective public health strategies to reduce children’s tooth decay. While fluoridation is not meant to be a standalone prevention method, multiple studies have shown that it helps to prevent cavities in both children and adults. As recently as May 2024, the CDC supported the safety of this strategy.

However, a new Florida law, signed by Gov. Ron DeSantis in May 2025 and going into effect on July 1, now prohibits local governments from adding fluoride to public drinking water. This makes other preventive treatments even more essential.

Fluoride varnish, recommended by pediatric and dental associations, is a topical treatment that should be applied every 3-6 months to reduce the risk of tooth decay.

When a child has just the beginnings of a cavity, silver diamine fluoride is a noninvasive liquid treatment that can stop it from progressing. This is especially beneficial for young children or those with limited access to care.

These highly effective, evidence-based treatments are safe and cost-effective, and they can be delivered in schools, medical offices and clinics.

Keeping your kids’ teeth healthy

Here are some steps parents can take right now to protect their child’s dental health:

• Schedule regular dental visits, starting by age 1. Children should see a dentist by their first birthday or within six months of their first tooth. After that, annual visits help catch problems early, when treatment is easier and less expensive.

• For families in areas with few dental providers, parents can ask their child’s pediatrician for referrals, check state Medicaid websites or use the American Association of Pediatric Dentists’ “Find a Pediatric Dentist” tool. Some communities also offer care through federally qualified health centers, dental schools or mobile clinics at low or no cost.

• As soon as their teeth come in, children need to brush twice a day with fluoridated toothpaste. Use a smear of toothpaste about the size of a grain of rice for children under age 3, and a pea-sized amount for ages 3–5.

• Make brushing a fun and supported routine. Help your child brush until they can do it well on their own, usually around age 7 or 8. Play a favorite song or video to make brushing time enjoyable.

• Limit sugary snacks and drinks. Offer water and healthy snacks like fruits and vegetables. Avoid letting infants fall asleep with bottles of milk or juice, and limit sticky, sugary foods like candy, chips and cookies.

• Ask your dentist about sealants and fluoride varnish. These treatments are especially important for children at higher risk for cavities, such as those with limited access to dental care, a family history of tooth decay, visible plaque or the habit of frequent snacking.

Olga Ensz does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. 1 in 3 Florida third graders have untreated cavities – how parents can protect their children’s teeth – https://theconversation.com/1-in-3-florida-third-graders-have-untreated-cavities-how-parents-can-protect-their-childrens-teeth-257200

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Charles J. Russo, Joseph Panzer Chair in Education and Research Professor of Law, University of Dayton

A century ago, the Supreme Court handed down one of its most important cases about education. On June 1, 1925, the court struck down an Oregon statute requiring all students to attend public school – a law critics argued was meant to limit faith-based schools, at a time when anti-Catholic bias was still common in parts of the United States.

The majority opinion in Pierce v. Society of Sisters of the Holy Name of Jesus and Mary included a now-famous dictum about parents’ rights to shape their children’s upbringing. According to the court, “the child is not the mere creature of the state; those who nurture him and direct his destiny have the right, coupled with the high duty, to recognize and prepare him for additional obligations.”

Soon, the Supreme Court is expected to release another decision around parental beliefs and education: Mahmoud v. Taylor. The plaintiffs are parents who want to excuse their children from public school lessons involving storybooks with LGBTQ+ characters – lessons they assert contradict their religious beliefs.

As someone who teaches education law, I believe this is perhaps the court’s most significant case on parental rights since Pierce. Mahmoud raises questions not only about religious freedom, but also about educators’ ability to determine curricula, and public education in a pluralistic society.

Picture-book debate

Controversy arose during the 2022-23 school year in Montgomery County, Maryland’s largest school district, when officials approved various storybooks with LGBTQ+-inclusive themes to be incorporated into the English language-arts curriculum for preschool and elementary students.

Some parents challenged the materials, including “Pride Puppy!”, a picture book the board later removed from use. Originally approved for preschool and pre-K, the story portrays a family whose puppy gets lost at a LGBTQ+ Pride parade, devoting a page to each letter of the alphabet. At the end of the book, a long “search and find” list of words for children to go back and look for in the pictures of the parade includes “[drag] queen” and “king,” “leather” and “lip ring.”

Other materials for older children included stories about same-sex marriage, a transgender child and nonbinary bathroom signs.

Parents who objected to the use of these materials on religious grounds sought to excuse their children from lessons using them. The parents basically argued that requiring their children to participate compelled or coerced them to go against their families’ religious beliefs.

Initially, officials agreed to allow opt-outs for elementary schoolers whose parents objected to the materials. However, a day later they changed their minds. Since then, school officials cited concerns about absenteeism, the feasibility of accommodating opt-out requests, and a desire to avoid stigmatizing LGBTQ+ students or families as reasons for their policy.

A group of Muslim, Orthodox Christian and Catholic families challenged the board’s refusal to excuse their children from lessons using the disputed materials.

The federal trial court, however, rejected the parents’ claim that having no opt-outs violated their right to due process.

Parents appealed, and the 4th Circuit affirmed in favor of the school board 2-1. The court added that officials had not violated the parents’ First Amendment rights to freely exercise their faith. “There’s no evidence at present that the Board’s decision not to permit opt-outs compels the Parents or their children to change their religious beliefs or conduct, either at school or elsewhere,” the panel concluded.

The dissenting judge stridently countered. Officials violated the parents’ free exercise rights by forcing them “to make a choice,” he wrote, between “either adher[ing] to their faith, or receiv[ing] a free public education for their children.” He also noted that the board’s opt-out policy was not neutral toward religion, because under Maryland regulations, children may be excused from sex-ed lessons.

In January 2025, the Supreme Court agreed to hear the parents’ appeal, addressing whether the schools are burdening parents’ free-exercise rights.

Court record

In their brief to the Supreme Court and oral arguments, the parents cited Wisconsin v. Yoder, a Supreme Court ruling from 1972. The court found that Amish parents did not have to send their children to school after the eighth grade, which the families argued would violate their religious beliefs. Amish communities descend from Anabaptist Christians who fled persecution in Europe and emphasize living simply, eschewing many modern technologies.

In Yoder, the justices agreed with the parents that their children received all the education they needed in their home communities. Under the First Amendment, parents have the right “to guide the religious future and education of their children,” the majority wrote, a matter “established beyond debate.”

During oral arguments for Mahmoud in April 2025, some justices briefly discussed another precedent: the Supreme Court’s 1943 judgment in West Virginia State Board of Education v. Barnette, resolved at the height of U.S. involvement in World War II. Here, three parents who were Jehovah’s Witnesses refused to have their children participate in public schools’ flag salute and Pledge of Allegiance because they viewed it as a form of idolatry contrary to their religious beliefs. Others objected
to the salute as “being too much like Hitler’s.”

The court reasoned that educators could not compel students to participate, because forcing children – or anyone – to engage in activities inconsistent with their beliefs is contrary to their First Amendment rights to the free exercise of religion and freedom of speech.

Viewed together, these cases highlight how the court has granted parents significant leeway to exempt their children from educational activities inconsistent with their religious beliefs.

Questions at court

During oral arguments, a majority of justices appeared to support the parents’ request to excuse children from lessons involving the books about LGBTQ+ characters.

The board’s attorney argued that students did not have to agree with the books’ messages, simply to participate in the lesson. Being exposed to an idea “does not burden free exercise,” he said.

Chief Justice John Roberts, however, queried whether it is realistic for 5-year-olds to understand that distinction. He asked, “Do you want to say you don’t have to follow the teacher’s instructions, you don’t have to agree with the teacher? I mean, that may be a more dangerous message than some of the other things.”

Other conservative justices also appeared skeptical of the idea that the lessons were merely exposing young children to ideas, but not instilling moral lessons. The storybooks do not simply explain that some people believe something and others do not, Justice Amy Coney Barrett suggested; they inform students that “this is the right view of the world.” Similarly, Justice Neil Gorsuch remarked that telling students that “some people think X, and X is wrong and hurtful and negative” is “more than exposure.”

“What is the big deal about allowing them to opt out of this?” Justice Samuel Alito asked.

Conversely, Justice Elena Kagan acknowledged that parents’ concerns were “serious,” but wondered how to draw limits on opt-out policies. Did the parents’ argument suggest that anytime “a religious person confronts anything in a classroom that conflicts with her religious beliefs or her parents’ that – that the parent can then demand an opt-out?”

Justice Sonia Sotomayor pressed the plaintiffs’ attorney on whether “the mere exposure to things that you object to” really counts as coercion. And Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson questioned why, even if opt-outs are not allowed, public schools teaching “something that the parent disagrees with” is coercive, given that homeschooling and private schools are legal.

Mahmoud raises challenging questions about curricular content, parental control and free exercise of religion – questions the court will hopefully resolve. A ruling is expected in June or early July 2025.

Charles J. Russo does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. 100 years ago, the Supreme Court made a landmark ruling on parents’ rights in education – today, another case raises new questions – https://theconversation.com/100-years-ago-the-supreme-court-made-a-landmark-ruling-on-parents-rights-in-education-today-another-case-raises-new-questions-257876

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Katherine LeMasters, Assistant Professor of Medicine, University of Colorado Boulder

Colorado passed the Fentanyl Accountability and Prevention Bill in May 2022. The legislation made the possession of small amounts of fentanyl a felony, rather than a misdemeanor.

Felonies are more likely than misdemeanors to result in a prison sentence.

Time in prison is associated with an increased risk of fatal overdose in the year after release. People with felonies on their record often struggle to find a job or rent an apartment.

In 2023, lawmakers in 46 states passed legislation similar to Colorado’s. They introduced more than 600 bills related to fentanyl criminalization and enacted over 100 other laws to attempt to curb the opioid epidemic.

Possession of small amounts of ketamine, GHB and other criminalized drugs is also a felony in Colorado.

I’m an assistant professor of medicine, social epidemiologist and community researcher who studies mass incarceration as a public health threat. I am a member of the Right Response Coalition, which advocates for community rather than criminal-legal responses to behavioral health needs in Colorado. Recently, my work has focused on how increasing criminal penalties for fentanyl possession in Colorado affects the individuals and communities most impacted by such laws.

Our team conducted 31 interviews with Colorado policymakers, peer support specialists, law enforcement, community behavioral health providers and people providing behavioral health in prisons and jails to explore a variety of perspectives on Colorado’s Fentanyl Accountability and Prevention Bill and the role of the criminal-legal system in addressing substance use and overdose.

Most of our interviewees agreed that criminalization alone wouldn’t solve the opioid epidemic.

“You can’t incarcerate yourself to sobriety,” said a rural law enforcement officer. “You can’t incarcerate yourself out of the drug problem in America.”

Criminalization of drug use

Incarceration and substance use are deeply intertwined. The U.S. houses one-quarter of the world’s incarcerated population – largely due to policies created during the “war on Drugs” of the 1980s. The war on drugs included mandatory minimum sentencing for drug-related charges and “three strikes” laws that lengthened sentences after multiple charges.

Today, one-fifth of the U.S. incarcerated population has a drug-related charge.

Incarceration is often seen as a deterrent, but research shows it is not actually associated with reduced drug use. Instead, people recently released from incarceration are more likely to die of a fatal overdose and face a high likelihood of reincarceration.

Perspectives of front-line workers

All 31 of the participants in our study supported policies to prevent fentanyl overdoses. However, most thought that use of police and incarceration as avenues to do so was misguided.

We spoke to some individuals who felt the bill was appropriate, but most felt that increased criminalization perpetuates stigma against people who use drugs. They also saw the law as ignoring the root causes of the opioid epidemic, which include a lack of voluntary community-based treatment options. They also said the law creates stressful law enforcement encounters that can perpetuate drug use as a coping mechanism.

“It just seems like there’s no getting away from [the police], they’re everywhere,” said an urban peer support specialist. “I got arrested by the same cops, I don’t know how many times. And then it makes you want to try to be avoidant or run because they’re not going to help you.”

Participants worried that the policy has an inadvertent chilling effect, deterring individuals from calling 911 when an overdose occurs.

“Most people with substance abuse are not trying to report anything or get help for fear of going to jail,” one rural provider said. “It’s so stigmatized that everyone’s just scared to do that.”

Participants largely thought that counties were using incarceration as a default treatment setting and that it wasn’t an ideal solution.

“[I] don’t want to see [people] incarcerated, but I don’t want ‘em to die either,” said an urban peer support specialist.

The people we interviewed pointed to a lack of community-based care options that could come before people are incarcerated. Those options include substance use treatment centers, mental health services and community health centers.

Substance use treatment

Colorado’s fentanyl bill did more than just increase penalties. It also provided additional funding for a state naloxone program and required that all jails provide medications for opioid use disorder.

These medications include methadone, buprenorphine and extended-release naltrexone. All are part of an established public health strategy shown to reduce overdose deaths and opioid use. They’re also shown to increase engagement with non-jail-based treatment and reduce reincarceration.

However, jail capacity and the lack of treatment options based in one’s community play a large role in which medications are offered and to whom. For example, only 11 out of Colorado’s 46 counties with a county jail have an opioid treatment program in the community that can dispense methadone. Therefore, some facilities do not offer all medications, or only offer medications to individuals with an active prescription or to certain populations such as pregnant people.

Investing in community solutions

Based on our study’s findings, my study co-authors and I believe increased criminal penalties should not be the solution for linking individuals to treatment. Instead, there should be more investment in long-term community solutions.

One such solution is Denver’s Substance Use Navigation Program. The program sends behavioral health specialists to emergency calls to prevent legal involvement when someone is experiencing distress related to mental health, poverty, homelessness or substance use. In many cases, those individuals are then routed to services rather than jails.

Our findings also lead us to believe there is a need for more participatory policymaking processes when it comes to fentanyl legislation, and that policymakers should more closely work with the people who will be most impacted by new legislation. Most of our participants agree.

“[I] don’t think that [the] state realized how difficult it is,” said a rural provider about giving medication-assisted treatment in jail, an increasing need as more people are arrested for fentanyl possession. “They probably should come here and visit us.”

Katherine LeMasters received funding from the Colorado Department of Human Services, Behavioral Health Administration. Katherine LeMasters is part of the Right Response Coalition.

– ref. Colorado’s fentanyl criminalization bill won’t solve the opioid epidemic, say the people most affected – https://theconversation.com/colorados-fentanyl-criminalization-bill-wont-solve-the-opioid-epidemic-say-the-people-most-affected-256661