The Trump Administration Is Preparing To Treat Asylum-Seekers As Security Threats

If implemented, the rule would take effect for 90 days and block immigrants who've been in Mexico or Canada within the last two weeks from legal protections.

Hamed AleazizBuzzFeed News Reporter
August 14, 2020

Paul Ratje / Getty Images
A group of immigrants sit on the ground near US Border Patrol agents in Sunland Park, New Mexico, March 20, 2019.

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The Trump administration has drafted a new rule that would take effect immediately and treat those seeking protection from persecution at a US land border as security threats if they had been in Mexico or Canada within the last two weeks of their arrival, according to a draft obtained by BuzzFeed News.

The draft rule, if implemented, would block affected asylum-seekers from legal protections and be in effect for 90 days immediately after it’s issued.

The draft rule cites the effort to limit the spread of the coronavirus within the US, but would represent the latest attempt by the Trump administration to restrict asylum protections at the border.

In the time since the coronavirus caused a global pandemic, President Donald Trump has blocked green cards for certain individuals abroad and cut work visas. Separately, an order issued by the CDC has allowed border officials to quickly send back those coming to the border, including children who arrive on their own.

“The pandemic has allowed the Trump administration to accomplish what they had been working towards for years — a complete shutdown of asylum at the southern border. This regulation shows that they have no intention of walking it back willingly,” said Sarah Pierce, an analyst at the Migration Policy Institute. “By layering their policy change with multiple bureaucratic tools, they are doing everything they can to insulate the asylum shutdown against legal challenges.”

Administration officials posted a notice for a rule in July that would allow Department of Homeland Security (DHS) officials to block asylum for those coming from countries determined to be suffering from a spread of health emergencies, but it did not take effect immediately and was undergoing a formal process to become policy.

The draft of the rule obtained by BuzzFeed News states that the US cannot wait to implement an immediate block of asylum at land borders. DHS officials declined to comment.

This new rule would immediately make those who attempt to enter the US at a port of entry or who cross without authorization on or after the day the policy is issued ineligible for asylum and a separate protection known as “withholding of removal” if the individual has been in Mexico or Canada for any length of time in the 14 days prior to their arrival. The new rule, which does not apply to green card holders, would appear to work in unison with a separate order that also limits protections.

Since March, DHS officials have turned back thousands of immigrants at the southern border by using an order issued by the CDC that bars the entry of those who cross into the US without authorization. Administration officials argue that the policy is necessary to prevent the spread of the coronavirus in the US and has been a key tool for border agents.

The new draft rule could also provide a backstop should a federal court step in and block the current policy of quickly turning around immigrants at the southern border.

The drafting of the rule comes as the coronavirus continues to spread in the US. As of Thursday, more than 5 million people in the US have contracted COVID-19, while more than 160,000 have died of the disease. But immigrant advocates believe the draft rule would be unnecessary as a form of protection against the coronavirus.

“The Trump administration is once again using COVID-19 as a pretext to accomplish their long-sought goal of destroying the United States’ asylum system,” said Aaron Reichlin-Melnick, a policy analyst at the American Immigration Council. “Public health experts agree that mass-deportation of refugees is not a valid response to COVID-19, and that it would be wrong to deport people to their deaths in the name of “public health.

Hamed Aleaziz is a reporter for BuzzFeed News and is based in San Francisco.

I Spent Two Terrifying Days Imprisoned In Belarus

A week of protests has followed a rigged election in Belarus, where President Alexander Lukashenko’s security state deployed violence and fear to cling to power.

Dan Peleschuk BuzzFeed Contributor
Reporting From
Kyiv, Ukraine
Posted on August 16, 2020

Vasily Fedosenko / Reuters
A Belarusian law enforcement officer gestures next to an injured protester, Yevgeny Zaichkin, Aug. 9.

KYIV — “Bitch, God forbid you raise your fucking head.”

With those words, the hulking, masked officer slammed the door shut. Around 20 of us knelt in agony on the steel floor of the troop transport vehicle, our faces pressed against the seats, following his orders, as we began trundling to an unknown destination.

The hot August air was thick with sweat and fear. I wondered if I’d see my parents again.

For anyone on the streets of Minsk and other cities around the country, the sound of Alexander Lukashenko’s Belarus has now become the roar of crowds demanding his ouster, fair elections, and a freer country.

But for me, and the thousands of others detained last week, it’s a combat boot striking the side of a human torso. Or the cries of a person buckled in pain.

Judging by the horrendous accounts of police abuse trickling out of Belarus, my experience was far from the worst. But two days in detention was enough to understand what kept Belarusians cowed and submissive for years — and why that’s now changing.


As anger bubbled across this post-Soviet nation of 9.5 million following last Sunday’s clumsily rigged election, which handed the former collective farm boss a sixth term, I was sucked into the dark heart of the brutal security apparatus that’s helped keep him in power since 1994.

Random detentions. Vicious beatings. Psychological abuse. Deployed freely in the days following Lukashenko’s deeply flawed election, these time-tested staples of an autocratic security state may actually mark its undoing.


Eager to watch the election unfold, I’d hoped to secure accreditation before arriving in Minsk last Saturday. Like the vast majority of my fellow foreign correspondents, my request was ignored. But with tickets already in hand, I traveled to Belarus anyway, intent on observing — at a reasonably safe distance, I figured — how events would play out.

I conducted no interviews, published nothing, and stayed mostly off social media. A tourist in a handsomely rebuilt showcase capital, I walked its regal boulevards and spotless sidewalks, watching and waiting for signs of unrest.

It finally came Sunday evening. After preliminary results handed Lukashenko an utterly unbelievable 80% of the vote, Belarusians flooded the streets of central Minsk, leading to clashes in several places between police and protesters, including outside my building. After briefly stepping out to watch the feared riot cops tighten their grip on the central boulevard, I quietly retreated back to my apartment.

The following evening was a nightmare.

By around 7 p.m., an eerie calm had gripped the city, as both residents and authorities anxiously anticipated more turmoil. Strolling toward a park near the previous night’s clashes — with no signs of building protests — I was approached by a group of black-clad riot police, known by their acronym “OMON.”


With balaclavas pulled over their faces, and their bodies covered by layers of fatigues and armor, their steely, violent eyes were the only sign a human resided underneath.

“Where are you going?” demanded one. “Why are your hands in your pockets?” barked another. Several more questions were hurled my way. They weren’t interested in answers; they were fishing for excuses to detain me.

Mere seconds after it emerged that I was an American who’d arrived from recently revolutionary Ukraine — a potential propaganda gift for an autocrat obsessed with alleged foreign meddling — I was manhandled into the windowless prisoner transport vehicle parked nearby.

Within half an hour, six or seven of us filled a space the size of a bathroom stall, our bodies awkwardly contorted around one another.

Driven to the Pervomaisk district police station, we were pulled into the courtyard and lined up facing the wall with our heads down, legs spread, and hands behind our backs, asked for our names and dates of birth. Some of those not standing rigidly enough received a fist to the side, or a kick in the knee.

When my turn came, I calmly stated I was an American citizen. “Who fucking cares,” the officer grunted.


Vasily Fedosenko / Reuters
Law enforcement officers detain journalists, not including the author, who were on assignment in Minsk, Belarus, July 28.

Funneled into the gym, we were stripped of our belongings and cataloged again. Fate failed the young man who had a can of pepper spray: Riot officers beat him to the ground and continued pummeling him as he groaned in agony, shouting, “Why the fuck would you need this?”

His body absorbed the blows like a sandbag bursting at the seams.

Over the next few hours, the crowd inside the gym swelled to several dozen. As riot police returned to the streets, we were ordered by local guards — much less severe, though mostly disinterested in our comfort — to sit on a narrow wooden ledge along the wall, heads down and hands on our knees. I eventually convinced them to let me lie on the floor, since an old back injury left me grimacing in pain.

Later, I was allowed to stay on a wrestling mat on the other side of the gym. That helped police keep track of me as the lone American, perhaps sparing me from the beatings that befell others.

Occasionally, the guards would pass around two liter-sized bottles of water among the detainees. Some requests to visit the bathroom were granted, others ignored. Throughout the night, we were called one-by-one — many bloodied or limping in pain — to complete our arrest sheets. All were charged with the administrative offense of participating in an unsanctioned rally, which carries a maximum sentence of 15 days.

Sometime in the middle of the night, OMON burst into the gymnasium, visibly heated and full of hate from what must have been a night of street fights downtown. In Lukashenko’s police state, they are the tip of the spear — violence-craving, brainwashed goons who equate even the slightest dissent with treason. Their sole purpose is to strike fear into citizens’ hearts.

That night, they called the shots.

They forced us up, then down on our knees, hands behind our backs and heads pressed to the floor. We lay in fear as the officers paced around the room, amid a tirade of expletives and threats, like predators sniffing out their prey. The stomping of their boots reverberated across the hardwood court and echoed throughout the frigid gym, its windows agape as the cool air wafted in.

Again, those deemed not submissive enough were beaten or their heads were kicked into the “proper” position. After several more random assaults, they left, and over the next several hours the tension slightly dispersed as we gradually eased into various forms of semi-fetal positions.

Clutching my knees to my chest as tightly I as could, I shivered into a faint slumber.

Around noon the next day, after being booked and photographed, we were split into two groups. “American, go with them,” the chief officer shouted, pointing to the group assembling by the door and corralled by newly arrived riot police.


With my heart in my stomach, I simply stared at him in denial, pretending not to have understood. During my booking, I was able to sneak in two calls — to my parents in the US and to a journalist in Kyiv — but if I left that gym, my passport confiscated, I fear I’d never be found.

But knowing refusal meant a vicious beating, I complied, broken and meek.

Dragged outside and into an idling troop carrier, we were again forced onto our knees along the aisle, hands behind our backs and heads against the seats. Amid endless streams of profanity, including the dire warning to keep our heads down, another beating or two was meted out to a deeply unlucky detainee.

We pulled away, clueless as to where we were going. The OMON officers taunted us: “Is this the change you wanted?” referring to a Soviet-era rock song, “I Want Changes,” that’s become the anthem of the opposition movement.

As we drove, the young man pressed up against my right side — a bespectacled, seemingly harmless nerd — began gasping for air, then quietly crying in pain. “Hold on,” I whispered repeatedly through the side of my mouth. I told him to focus on breathing deeply, hoping he’d follow my lead.

“I can’t. Dammit, I can’t,” he responded, now practically weeping.

Sitting on my heels, praying the guards wouldn’t notice, I’d lost all feeling in my legs. Bent so far back, my feet felt as if they’d snap off. Between thinking of my parents and trying to picture my friends’ smiling faces, I mused over how a recent heartbreak seemed absurdly trivial. So did COVID-19, which I assumed I’d already contracted.

I just wanted to live, and for someone to find me.


Sergei Gapon / Getty Image
Belarus's law enforcement officers guard government buildings during a protest rally against police violence in central Minsk, Aug. 14.

An hour and a half later, we arrived at a detention facility in Zhodino, about 40 miles outside Minsk. As we idled in the courtyard the psychological torment began: “Welcome to the worst place on Earth,” one officer said, demonstratively chuckling.

Another said ominously, “This is where you’ll learn.”

Led through dark basement corridors reminiscent of a Cold War spy film, the barking of massive dogs and the crackling chatter of walkie-talkies pierced the dank air. “This can’t be real,” I repeated to myself.

After being strip-searched and processed, we were split up further and led toward a cell. When the door swung open, I was stunned: The 10-bed, 150-square-foot cell was already over capacity — and now there were 27 of us in total. Still, the men inside erupted into applause and offered their hands. “Hey, fellow political prisoners!”

The mood lightened, and for the first time, I understood that something had changed.

I scanned my fellow cellmates. Beaten faces and shirts stained orange from day-old blood. Knees split open, oozing from infection. Baton-shaped bruises across backs. Yet except for the youngest among them, who were between 18 and 20 years old, few were visibly afraid.

Over the next day-and-a-half in that musty, oxygen-deprived cell — packed with students, techies, small business owners, and blue-collar workers — inmates traded stories about how their arrest sheets had been fabricated to claim they’d been shouting slogans or inciting protests. Most had been picked off the street like me; some right front of their homes.


Angry but not radical, they referred to cops in street slang meaning “trash.” But they also waxed poetic about being fed up with economic stagnation and being treated like cattle.

Vasya, a middle-aged man who owns an auto parts store, complained of the inordinate level of taxes he pays, which finances the security apparatus that snatched him from a bus stop. For Artyom, a wispy-haired programmer resembling Rasputin, and who was serving a 10-day sentence for participating in an earlier protest, the experience was a turning point: “I’m no longer afraid,” he said. “After this, what’s left to fear?”

In short, not a single man believed the Lukashenko regime had any legitimacy left.

We cracked jokes, sang songs, celebrated the rare and sacred deliveries of bread and prison gruel. When things got too quiet, the more jovial among us would yell, “Long live Belarus!” — a long-favored chant of the opposition — which would solicit the bellowing response, “Live on!”

Human decency ruled: Whenever one man realized he’d spent a couple hours in bed, he’d offer his space to another sprawled across the cold floor or hunched over the crooked communal table. If someone hadn’t eaten, he’d be implored to do so. Today, these men are my heroes; facing the unknown, their priority was to maintain our collective spirit.

But mostly, we waited. Legally, a judge in Belarus has 72 hours to try a case before the suspect is released from detention. Those of us who hadn’t been sentenced gamed out various scenarios: What if time runs out? Will we be freed? With a broken pen and tiny scraps of paper snuck in, they traded relatives’ contact information.

At one point, a guard summoned three of our youngest cellmates and told them they were headed home. Shortly after, one of them returned saying he was told he’d receive a 15-day sentence in the morning. That sparked jeers. “So that’s how you sent him home, you fucker?” yelled one of my cellmates.

Through a crack in our door, we could see and hear the constant stream of new prisoners overwhelming a system not designed for such mass detentions. The unnerving clank of prison doors never seemed to cease. Communicating with our neighbors by banging on the wall and yelling through the window, we tried to feel out the situation by finding out how many had been sentenced.


Sergei Gapon / Getty Images
People detained during recent rallies of opposition supporters leave the Okrestina prison early morning in Minsk, Aug. 14.

Around midnight on the third day of my detention, a guard barged in.

“Peleschuk!” he shouted. “Where is he?” I slid off my cot and sauntered to the door, nodding to my cellmates — who had begged me to “tell the world” about everything I’d seen — as they wished me luck. I had no idea where I was going.

Led through several corridors crammed with prisoners’ belongings, I was shocked at the disarray: Hundreds of individual black plastic bags strewn across the floor, many torn open. Belts, phones, wallets, shoelaces scattered everywhere. Guards, meanwhile, darted back and forth, barely managing the influx of prisoners.

For all its terror, I realized Lukashenko’s fearsome police state is simply another part of the country’s bloated bureaucracy: mired in paperwork and run by hacks loyal only to a state paycheck.

Except, of course, for OMON: As long as these brutal punishers are patrolling the streets with state support, Belarusians will never truly be safe.

Eventually, I was led to a portly administrator who claimed I was being released with a warning, and that representative from the US Embassy had arrived to pick me up. I did not believe him; one of my greatest fears throughout my detention was becoming a political pawn, my face splashed across state media as an “agent provocateur” sent to stir unrest.

It wasn’t until I was led through the prison courtyard and into the administrative wing near the entrance that I exhaled. When I saw the consular officer sitting inside a small office, I knew I was free.

The next day, I picked up my passport from the police precinct (which required more wheel-greasing by the embassy) and booked a flight back to my base in Kyiv.

During my drive to the airport, I watched thousands of cheerful protesters line the city’s main boulevard, led by women in white clothing and accessories, such as flowers and flags. A direct contrast to the evils that mark Lukashenko’s police state, those are the faces now filling streets across the country in what amounts to the single biggest challenge to Belarusian authorities since the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Now safe in Kyiv, I have not yet unpacked my suitcase. I want the smell of prison to linger, to help me remember the much better men left behind, with no embassy to rescue them.

As I was writing this account, a friend from Minsk wrote me a birthday greeting. “Just like in a game of survival,” she said, “you’ve been born again.”

Judging the momentum building by the day against Lukashenko, the same just might be true for the Belarusian people.


MORE ON THIS
Belarus Is Detaining Thousands Of Peaceful Protesters. Many Are Telling Gruesome Stories Of Physical And Psychological Abuse By Police.

Christopher Miller · Aug. 14, 2020

Belarusians Are Walking Out Of Work And Accusing Police Of Torture As Protests Grip The Country

Christopher Miller · Aug. 13, 2020

“God Forbid You Ever Have To Face The Choice That I Faced." Belarus's Opposition Candidate Has Fled The Country As The Government Cracks Down.

Christopher Miller · Aug. 11, 2020


Dan Peleschuk is a Kyiv-based freelance writer and editor who has covered the former Soviet Union for more than a decade.

An Arizona School District Canceled All Its Classes After Teachers Staged A Sickout Over Coronavirus Fears

The J.O. Combs Unified School District canceled all its classes, including virtual lessons, after many teachers said they would not return to classrooms citing coronavirus concerns.

Otillia SteadmanBuzzFeed News Reporter
Last updated on August 17, 2020

Ross D. Franklin / AP
Local teacher Lisa Vaaler joins other teachers as they hold a #Return2SchoolSafely Motor March protest in Phoenix, July 15.



A school district in Arizona that was set to open for in-person teaching on Monday was forced to cancel all classes after teachers staged a “sickout” to protest unsafe working conditions during the coronavirus pandemic.

"We have received an overwhelming response from staff indicating that they do not feel safe returning to classrooms with students," Gregory Wyman, superintendent of the J.O. Combs Unified School District, said in a letter to parents on Friday. "In response, we have received a high volume of staff absences for Monday citing health and safety concerns."

The district's governing board had voted to resume in-person education on Monday despite failing to meet the metrics recommended by the state, according to a statement from J.O. Combs School District staff members that was provided to BuzzFeed News.

"Any reopening to in-person school before the guideline metrics developed by the AZ Department of Health represent a serious disregard for the safety of both students and staff," the statement from staff members said.



After reviewing the district's pandemic plan, a majority of the staff members felt that it was unsafe for them and students to return to their campuses on Monday, their statement said.

The district announced Friday that all of Monday's classes, including virtual learning, would be canceled after at least 109 staff members called in sick, the Arizona Republic reported.

"Due to these insufficient staffing levels, schools will not be able to reopen on Monday as planned," Wyman said in his letter to parents.

Wyman also said he was unsure when classes would resume because the district could not predict how long the absences would last.

In their statement, the staff members of the school district said "the risk of infection is too high" until Pinal County meets the state metrics set by the Arizona Department of Health determining that it was safe to reopen.

The staff members also reported a lack of recommended sanitization supplies to clean school sites and the lack of essential supplies to safely reopen campuses.

"Until we receive the necessary supplies to maintain our inventory, we will remain at a higher risk of infection of our students and staff," their statement said.

They also said staff members had not received "adequate and clear procedures" about their responsibilities in handling students returning to campus and that there had been no staff training on COVID-19 policies and sanitization procedures.

The staff members urged the school board to approve Wyman's recommendation to continue virtual learning through the first quarter to allow time for the state metrics to be met, for back-ordered supplies to arrive, and for staff to be properly trained.


"Please know that we are acutely aware of how polarizing this issue is, and how challenging these ongoing developments are for our entire community," Wyman's letter said.


The question of whether to reopen schools for in-person education has become a political flashpoint across the country as parents, teachers, and school districts attempt to balance the safety of reopening with other priorities.

Teachers in New York City have also threatened to protest with a sickout if the city decides to reopen for in-person classes.



MORE-UFT@MOREcaucusUFT

If de Blasio won’t #closenycpublicschools to protect students and their families, teachers will #sickout https://t.co/VEloYt7cx309:01 PM - 14 Mar 2020
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In Arizona, officials have recommended that schools look at three benchmarks to assess how the virus is spreading in the community before deciding to reopen, including the number of new cases in the area, the percentage of people testing positive, and the number of hospitalizations. However, the state has not required schools to make decisions based on the benchmarks, the Arizona Republic reported.


The sickout protest in the J.O. Combs Unified School District comes after several teachers in the neighboring Queens Creek district resigned following a vote to resume in-person education there.


Sharon Tuttle, an organizer with Arizona Educators United, a grassroots group that has helped organize protests against reopening schools, told BuzzFeed News that teachers who resign could face fines or petitions to have their licenses revoked.

“We are just starting to see how this affects children, how contagious they are, and that they can get it,” said Tuttle, adding that the group is advocating for science-based metrics to determine when to reopen.

Tuttle said comparisons of teachers to other professions were "ridiculous."

“This is a horrible situation for everybody,” she said. “Everybody is uncomfortable, but it doesn’t mean you make bad decisions."


MORE ON THIS
A Georgia School District Has To Quarantine More Than 900 People Over Fears Of Coronavirus Exposure

Tasneem Nashrulla · Aug. 12, 2020

The Truth Behind A Viral Picture Of A Reopening School Is Worse Than It Looked 

Molly Hensley-Clancy · Aug. 5, 2020



Otillia Steadman is the world news operations manager for BuzzFeed News and is based in New York.

Marijuana vending machines to debut in Colorado, Massachusetts

DISPENSARY WORKERS UNIONIZED

The machines will arrive in September in Massachusetts, where retail sales of recreational marijuana became legal in 2018. File Photo by 7raysmarketing/Pixabay/UP


Aug. 17 (UPI) -- Marijuana vending machines are rolling out in Colorado and Massachusetts to offer customers contactless buying at dispensaries in states where pot is legal.

Boston-based anna debuted the new machines at Strawberry Field dispensary in Pueblo, Colo., where customers can now buy flower, edibles and vape oils without interacting with a salesperson, the Denver Post reported. More machines will be installed in Aurora, a Denver suburb, later this year, the company said.

Local agents identify customers through drivers license and approve payment, then buyers pick up their product from the machine.

"It's about getting customers through faster with less contact," CEO Matt Frost told Masslive.com.

Frost, a former medical data analyst, said Massachusetts dispensary customers can wait in long lines which makes acquiring medical cannabis dangerous for those with compromised immune systems in an age of COVID-19.

"A self-checkout solution does lend itself well to these times," Frost said. "There's a bigger appetite for what we're doing now."

The machines are set to debut in September in Massachusetts, where retail sales of recreational marijuana became legal in November of 2018.

Along with the appeal of touchless buying, mechanizing the sale of marijuana might also be attractive to cannabis companies as 10,000 Massachusetts cannabis dispensary workers recently appealed to the National Labor Relations Board to authorize a mail-in election to unionize.

United Food and Commercial Workers unionized its first commercial dispensary in Massachusetts last fall.

"The legal cannabis industry is a newly regulated market that can offer local communities jobs with strong wages and benefits that can't be outsourced," UFCW said in a statement. "Jobs that pay better wages and provide better benefits -- like the ones we represent -- are vital to keeping our economy afloat and families out of poverty.

The anna machine is not the first pot vending machine to appear in Colorado. A vending machine with cameras to check customer IDs was introduced in Eagle-Vail in 2014. The Zazz machine was produced by American Green and installed in a dispensary in Avon, Colo.


RELATED Synthetic marijuana linked to lung damage, comas in study of ICU patients

upi.com/7030237

300 U.S. Pizza Hut restaurants will close after franchisee bankruptcy

BUT WALL ST BOOMS

More than 300 Pizza Hut locations with dine-in restaurants will close in the United States, following the bankruptcy of one of the company's largest franchisees, the company announced Monday. Photo by Susan Montgomery/Shutterstock
Aug. 17 (UPI) -- As many as 300 U.S. Pizza Hut restaurant locations will close permanently in the wake of the bankruptcy of the chain's largest franchisee, the company announced Monday.

NPC International, based in Leawood, Kan., said it had reached an agreement with Yum! Brands, the parent company of Pizza Hut, to close one-quarter of its 1,227 Pizza Hut locations and make arrangements to sell the rest. NPC is the largest and oldest franchisee of Pizza Hut restaurants and operates most of the stores on the East Coast and in the Midwest.

The company didn't specify which locations would be closed, but said they would be locations with an attached restaurant. Pizza Hut has moved away from the dine-in restaurant business model to an emphasis on take-out and delivery through an app.

Pizza Hut said the 300 locations were identified as those that "significantly underperform." The chain said it would relocate employees to other Pizza Hut locations, CNN reported.

NPC filed for chapter 11 bankruptcy protection in July. Shutdowns related to the coronavirus pandemic, along with a $1 billion debt burden and rising costs of labor and food contributed to the bankruptcy, CNN reported. But even in February, the company was looking at bankruptcy, Bloomberg reported.

"With consumer behavior shifting towards more delivery than dine-in, Pizza Hut's competitors such as Domino's and Papa John's have continued to evolve their respective [delivery] models with better technology or more compelling price and product offerings," NPC said in bankruptcy filings.

NPC International will also sell its 385 Wendy's restaurants, a fraction of the total of 6,500 in the United States, the bankruptcy agreement says.

RELATED Chipotle to close 60 stores in restructuring effort

NPC employs about 7,500 full-time employees and 28,500 part-time employees at both Pizza Hut and Wendy's in 30 states, the company said.
RELATED NFL replaces Papa John's, names Pizza Hut as new official pizza sponsor


RELATED Chipotle taps former Taco Bell executive Brian Niccol as CEO

upi.com/7030155

Toronto police agree to $12.5M settlement for mass arrests at G-20

After a ruling in a 10-year class action suit, the Toronto Police Services Board will pay a settlement of $12.5 million to protesters who were corralled and abused by police during the G20 summit in June, 2010. File Photo by Alex Volgin/UPI
| License Photo

Aug. 17 (UPI) -- Ten years after mass-arrests in Toronto at the 2010 G20 economic summit, the Toronto Police Services Board will pay a $12.5 million (U.S.) settlement to members of a class-action lawsuit of 1,100 people who were arrested and held by police during protests.

Those arrested will be entitled to payments between $3,780 and $81,700 and their criminal records for the arrests will be expunged, according to the settlement.

"When these events happened many Canadians could not believe they happened in Canada. The settlement appears to fairly recognize through financial compensation, acknowledgements and reforms that they shouldn't have happened and will never happen again," Eric Gillespie, the lawyer leading the case, told CBC.

The agreement also commits to changing the way protesters are treated by the Toronto police.

One of the claimants, Tommy Taylor, told the Toronto Star the settlement felt "surreal" after 10 years of legal negotiations.

Thousands protested when the G20 Economic Summit was held in Toronto in June of 2010. While most protesters were peaceful, at least four police cars were set on fire and police arrested hundreds of people.

At the time, Ontario Province Premier Dalton McGuinty admitted under questioning his government secretly gave police more authority to in the fortified zone where the summit was held, guarding a security fence around the perimeter that led to a "police vacuum," investigators said.

Ninety-seven officers and 39 arrestees were injured, and at least 40 shops were vandalized, causing $500,000 worth of damage. Several officers were accused of excessive force and assault of protesters.

Lawsuit plaintiffs, led by Sherry Good, a 51-year-old office administrator, filed suit in 2010, but the courts only approved class-action status in 2016.

"I'm just an ordinary person. I'm not an organizer, I'm not an activist," Good said in 2010. "I just feel that what happened to me and to hundreds of others was very wrong."

Good and 250 others were netted by police in a technique known as "kettling" when they were encircled by a wall of police officers. Good and others were held in the rain for four hours with no access to food or toilets, the lawsuit alleged.

Judge blocks Trump's reversal of transgender ACA protections

In his ruling Mondy, U.S. District Court Judge Frederick Block cited the U.S. Supreme Court's June decision that bans LGBTQ employment discrimination. Photo by Kevin Dietsch/UPI | License Photo

Aug. 17 (UPI) -- A day before the policy change was to go into effect, a federal court judge blocked the Trump administration on Monday from rolling back Obama-era healthcare protections for people who identify as transgender.

U.S. District Court Judge Frederic Block issued a preliminary injunction Monday against the department's move, citing a recent Supreme Court decision that ruled it unlawful to discriminate against a transgender person as to do so is to discriminate against them based on their sex.

In his 26-page ruling, Block chastised the Department of Homeland Security for attempting to implement the rule despite the highest court's decision, stating "when the Supreme Court announces a major decision, it seems a sensible thing to pause and reflect on the decision's impact."

The new rule by the Department of Health and Human Services was set to go into effect on Tuesday and would have removed protections in the Affordable Care Act that made it unlawful to discriminate on the basis of sex.

The ACA's anti-discrimination protection has been blocked from going into effect since 2016, and in June of 2019, the Department of Health and Human Services gave notice of its proposal to repeal those protections, raising the ire of LGBTQ activists.

However, in June of this year, the Supreme Court ruled in favor in a civil rights case concerning protections granted to employees against discrimination in the workplace.

Alphonso David, president of the Human Rights Campaign, which brought the lawsuit against the Trump administration on behalf of two women of color, called Monday's decision a "crucial early" victory not only for their clients but for the entire LGBTQ community.

"We are pleased the court recognized this irrational rule for what it is: discrimination, plain and simple. LGBTQ Americans deserve the healthcare that they need without fear of mistreatment, harassment or humiliation," David said in a statement.

The ruling, however, did not address all of the revisions proposed by the Trump administration to the healthcare law that has attracted legal challenges to eliminations of language access protections and others.

Lambda Legal, which is suing the Department of Health and Human Services over its proposed changes to the rule, applauded Monday's decision, accusing the Trump administration of targeting the LGBTQ people during a pandemic when they require medical services.

"LGBTQ people, particularly transgender people. have been under constant attack by the Trump administration. HHS' healthcare discrimination rule threatens to wreak havoc and confusion, hurting our most vulnerable populations, who already are suffering disproportionately at the nads of the COVID-19 pandemic," Lambda legal staff attorney Carl Charles said in a statement. "We applaud today's' decision and look forward to continuing our fight against this rule that unlawfully targets and singles out LGBTQ people for discrimination during their most critical time of need -- when seeking healthcare."

On This Day: 19th Amendment ratified giving women the vote

On Aug. 18, 1920, the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, guaranteeing women the right to vote, was ratified by Tennessee, giving it the two-thirds majority of state ratification necessary to make it the law of the land. The law took effect eight days later.


A member of the League of Women Voters participates in a demonstration to protest the lack of voting rights for the citizens of Washington, D.C., on the 90th Anniversary of the 19th Amendment, guaranteeing women the right to vote, in front of the White House in Washington on August 26, 2010. On August 19, 1920, the 19th Amendment was ratified by Tennessee, giving it the two-thirds majority of state ratification necessary to make it the law of the land. The law took effect eight days later. File Photo by Kevin Dietsch/UPI | License Photo

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UPI Archives: Women's right to vote now official in United States

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TO BE UPDATED

6.6-magnitude earthquake strikes Philippines; 1 dead



Several structures collapsed in Cataingan, Masbate, in the earthquake Tuesday. Photo courtesy of Philippine Red Cross - Masbate Chapter/Facebook

Aug. 18 (UPI) -- A 6.6-magnitude earthquake struck central Philippines Tuesday, killing at least one person, officials said.

The temblor struck at 8:03 a.m. at a depth of 13 miles about 4 miles east of the Cataingan municipality in the central island province of Masbate, the Philippine Institute of Volcanology and Seismology said in a statement.  


Cataingan disaster officer Venus Rojo confirmed to local media that a retired police senior superintendent had died after becoming pinned under his house, which had collapsed in the quake.

According to the Philippine Red Cross, several roads were damaged and many buildings had collapsed in Masbate due to the temblor, forcing at least 11 people to seek shelter at the Cataingan National High School.

"Psychosocial support is ongoing," Red Cross' Masbate chapter said in a statement.

Phvolcs warned that damage was expected as were aftershocks.

It said Intensity 7 "destructive" effects were felt in Cataingan while Intensity 5 "strong" effects reverberated through the cities of Masbate as well as Almagro and Tagapul-an in Samar province.

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COVID-19 hospitalization rate for minorities far beyond share of population

Black and Hispanic Americans are more likely to be hospitalized with COVID-19 compared to the general population. Pictured, Virginia Hospital Center workers screen patients for testing for COVID-19 as they arrive onsite in Arlington, Va., in March. File Photo by Tasos Katopodis/UPI | License Photo
Aug. 17 (UPI) -- Black and Hispanic Americans are hospitalized for COVID-19 at a rate of up to three times their share of the general population, according to an analysis published Monday by JAMA Internal Medicine.

The analysis shows that, in Ohio, Black Americans accounted for 32% of all people hospitalized with COVID-19 this spring, despite constituting 13% of the state's population.

Similarly, in Indiana, just over 28% of all hospitalized COVID-19 patients were Black Americans, while just under 10% of the state's population is Black.

In Virginia, Hispanic Americans made up 36% of all CVID-19 hospitalizations, despite being just 10% of the state's total population, according to researchers.

The findings, based on analysis of data for 12 states taken from the University of Minnesota COVID-19 Hospitalization Tracking Project, highlight ongoing racial disparities among those who experience serious illness from the new coronavirus, the researchers said.

"We are seeing large disparities in hospitalizations across racial and ethnic groups," study lead researcher Pinar Karaca-Mandic told UPI.

And these "disparities were across the board" in both urban and rural areas, said Karaca-Mandic, a professor of healthcare risk management at the University of Minnesota.

Researchers analyzed hospitalization data from April 30 through June 24 in each state, evaluating it against population figures from the 2010 U.S. census.

The 12 states in the analysis were Arizona, Indiana, Kansas, Massachusetts, Minnesota, New Hampshire, Ohio, Oregon, Rhode Island, Utah, Virginia and Washington.

"At the time we did the analysis, these were the only states across the country that were reporting hospitalization data based on race," Karaca-Mandic said.

Since the analysis was completed, New Jersey and Virginia have start to report this data.

"We need to have more complete data so we can understand the true nature of these racial disparities," Karaca-Mandic said, adding that there is a "lack of standardization in the data on race -- even among those reporting it.

White Americans accounted for the bulk of COVID-19 hospitalizations in all 12 states, she and her colleagues found. In all cases, however, White Americans were hospitalized at a lower rate compared to their share of the general population, according to the researchers.

In Utah, for example, White Americans made up 43% of the hospitalized patients with COVID-19, despite being 78% of the state's population.

In addition to Ohio and Indiana, Minnesota and Kansas were among states that saw the highest disparities, the researchers found.

In Minnesota, 25% of the patients hospitalized with the virus were Black Americans, who make up just under 7% of the state's population, according to the researchers.

In Kansas, these figures were 22% and 6%, respectively, they said.

Hospitalization rates for Hispanic Americans were above 33% in Rhode Island and Utah, the researchers said. In both states, Hispanic Americans make up less than 16% of the population, they said.

The racial disparities in COVID-19 hospitalizations can be attributed to a number of factors, Karaca-Mandic said.

She said this includes that Black and Hispanic Americans are more likely to be "essential workers" -- meaning they continued to report to their jobs during lockdown and therefore were at greater risk for exposure to the virus.

These communities were also less likely to have access to quality healthcare prior to the pandemic and may be in poorer overall health as a result, she said.

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