# data[].attributes.body
#campfire
#woolseyfire

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
President Trump Donald John Trump Trump nominates ambassador to Turkey Trump heads to Mar-a-Lago after signing bill to avert shutdown CNN, MSNBC to air ad turned down by Fox over Nazi imagery MORE on Saturday said other countries do a better job than the United States of "cleaning the floors" of the forest in efforts to reduce forest fires.

Trump made the remarks during his recent visit to California to survey wildfire recovery efforts.

"You've got to take care of the floors. You know the floors of the forest, very important. You look at other countries where they do it differently and it's a whole different story," Trump said to reporters while standing alongside California Gov.-elect Gavin Newsom (D) and California Gov. Jerry Brown (D).

"I was with the president of Finland and he said, 'We have a much different - we're a forest nation.' He called it a forest nation, and they spent a lot of time on raking and cleaning and doing things," Trump continued. "And they don't have any problem."

"And when it is, it's a very small problem, so I know everybody is looking at it to that end and it's going to work out, it's going to work out well," the president said.

Trump: "You gotta take care of the floors. You know the floors of the forest, very important... I was with the President of Finland... he called it a forest nation and they spent a lot of time on raking and cleaning and doing things and they don't have any problem." pic.twitter.com/cC8syQobdC
- Contemptor (@TheContemptor) November 17, 2018

Trump made similar remarks in an interview with Fox News's Chris Wallace scheduled to air on Sunday.

"I was watching the firemen the other day and they were raking areas, they were raking areas where the fire was right over there," Trump said in the interview. "And they're raking trees, little trees like this that are not trees, little bushes that you could see are totally dry. Weeds. And they're raking them, they're on fire. That should have been all raked out. You wouldn't have the fires."

His remarks arrive a week after Trump drew criticism for appearing to blame devastation caused by wildfires in California on the state's local officials.

"There is no reason for these massive, deadly and costly forest fires in California except that forest management is so poor. Billions of dollars are given each year, with so many lives lost, all because of gross mismanagement of the forests," Trump said in a tweet at the time, adding: "Remedy now, or no more Fed payments!"

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Trump says other countries do better job of 'cleaning the floors' of the forest than US to reduce fires

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
President Trump Donald John Trump Trump nominates ambassador to Turkey Trump heads to Mar-a-Lago after signing bill to avert shutdown CNN, MSNBC to air ad turned down by Fox over Nazi imagery MORE on Saturday said other countries do a better job than the United States of "cleaning the floors" of the forest in efforts to reduce forest fires.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
School shootings have taken a terrible human toll. They have also been a boon to the business of security technology.

Over the summer, Washington Post reporter John Woodrow Cox saw an array of items on display at an expo in Orlando, Fla. He and fellow reporter Steven Rich went on to investigate whether any of the technology being promoted and sold really helps save lives.

When he went to the expo in July, Cox says there were people pitching just about anything they could think of that might make schools safer in the event of a shooting.

"There were things like pepper ball guns that have typically been used in combat zones," Cox says. "There was a guy who had just come back from Afghanistan and it's basically a gun that shoots a sort of a paintball that is filled with a pepper mixture meant to take down a gunman."

Another man at the conference tried to sell the idea of embedding former special forces agents inside schools, but having them pose as gym teachers to allow them to discern which students were potential threats.

Other companies had facial recognition software and bullet proof doors for sale. But despite all that technology, teachers and school administrators that have dealt with incidents of gun violence aren't quick to say more tools or programs would have necessarily helped.

As part of The Post'sreporting, surveys were sent to educators at schools that had suffered shootings since the 2012 Sandy Hook massacre in Newton, Conn. Roughly half of the schools responded.

"There was only one school that suggested any sort of school safety technology would have helped, and the guy mentioned it in sort of in a long list of things," Cox says. "He said, 'Well maybe metal detectors would have prevented the shooting,' but there were a lot of schools that had all sorts of school technology that didn't work."

Cox points out that in Alabama, one high school had invested a significant amount into security. That included three armed resource officers, metal detectors and cameras, but all of that failed to stop a student from getting a gun into the school. From there, the student who brought the gun drew it, played with it while showing others and it fired, accidentally striking a girl in the chest and ultimately killing her.

"Despite all of that effort, they couldn't stop that gun from getting into the school - and we've seen that over and over, " Cox says. "At least 40 percent of the schools that have had some incident of gun violence on campus since 1999 have had resource officers at the time. There is no sure thing whether it's a resource officer or a piece of technology that ensures safety from gun violence for kids at school."

What schools say does work is preparation. Cox says preparation was the key to preventing dozens of deaths in a California town last November when a man began a shooting rampage.

"Some staff members heard gunshots approaching the school," he says. "They called for a lockdown immediately. All the teachers got all the kids inside. They locked all the doors and the gunman, who had a sort of modified AR-15, fired more than 100 rounds into the buildings there and he injured one student, but because they locked the doors and he couldn't get inside, there were dozens of lives saved."

Still, despite agreement over the importance of preparation, there is still disagreement over what kind of drills should be taught to kids.

One method adopted by some schools is the ALICE Training program. ALICE, which stands for Alert, Lockdown, Inform, Counter and Evacuate, involves teaching students "in certain scenarios to essentially attack the gunman," Cox says.

"Specifically what they're saying is arm yourself with any sort of objects you have and just in case throw it at the gunman and swarm the gunman," he says. "Students as young as elementary age are taught that by their schools, and that's really controversial. Because when you see these videos online where people are practicing the ALICE techniques and all the students attack the gunman and the gunman just falls to the ground - well, that's unlikely to go that way in a real-life situation where somebody is there to kill you."

Yet as schools try to decide whether to invest in these technologies, Cox says they often make "these decisions on what to invest in based on politics or based on reaction."

"We see things like Parkland happen and then we see big spending all over the country," he says. "And often schools and school districts are not methodical in deciding, 'OK, this is what is the smart thing for us.'"

As both The Post and NPR have reported, school shootings are not actually a growing epidemic, and as Cox says, "it's very unlikely that a student is ever going to experience a school shooting."

Because of this, he says that schools shouldn't rush their decisions when they're looking to increase security or enhance their preparation in the event of a shooting.

"What is critically important is that schools take their time," he says. "They shouldn't be investing millions of dollars into products because somebody said they were an expert and this is the thing that will work. They should be stepping back and really studying 'what does our district need compared to that other district.'"
The audio for this story was produced by All Things Considered intern Lilly Quiroz and edited by NPR's Martha Wexler. NPR's Wynne Davis adapted it for Web.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Inside The Business Of School Security To Stop Active Shooters

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
School shootings have taken a terrible human toll. They have also been a boon to the business of security technology. Over the summer, Washington Post reporter John Woodrow Cox saw an array of items on display at an expo in Orlando, Fla.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
On the morning of his 23rd birthday, Leonel Salas is just getting off the fireline after battling the Woolsey fire all night in Southern California.

"[We] can't get any rest while we're on the lines," he says.

He's exhausted after working for 24 hours, but relieved to be at the base camp in Camarillo where there are hot meals, sleeping pods and mobile showers.

Salas and his crew have been on the job for over a week now. When he got the call to head out to the fire he didn't even have the chance to say goodbye to his parents.

"I hate to compare it to military, but it's similar to that because one minute you could be [home] and then all of a sudden, you're gone." he says.

Fighting fires has been compared to the military in another way - the stress that soldiers go through. In fact, a report by the International Association of Firefighters found that firefighters experience PTSD at rates similar to what's seen in combat veterans. The Ruderman Family Foundation has identified another startling trend: Last year, more firefighters died by suicide than in the line of duty.

So fire officials are trying new ways to alleviate the stress of overworked firefighters and change the culture.
Changing fire seasons, changing protocols
Salas vividly remembers last year when he was in Northern California fighting the monthlong Carr Fire. He saw people's homes destroyed in seconds. It made him pause and think about what if he lost his own home. But besides property destruction, firefighters see other things nobody wants to see or talk about.

"There's some things that we see that's basically beyond us that we can't really help," Salas adds.

The firefighter and first responder culture can encourage a kind of stoicism that makes it hard for many firefighters to open up about trauma they face.

"The culture's always been, you know, suppress suppress, suppress," says Cal Fire Capt. Kevin Molloy. "We're good and go on to the next call."

But California fire season is changing; it's become longer and more destructive. Firefighters are now fighting massive wildfires back to back. The cumulative stress of it all can take a toll on a firefighter's mental health.

In 2015, Cal Fire noticed the need to provide immediate support to firefighters and first responders in the field during the Valley Fire, a wildfire that torched parts of Lake and Napa counties in Northern California for more than a month and destroyed 1,995 structures and 76,067 acres. That's when Cal Fire first placed a peer-support team at a base camp, and that practice has continued.
Having each other's backs
At the Woolsey fire base camp where Salas and other firefighters recuperate, a mobile trailer with a sign reading "PEER SUPPORT" is set up among the sleeping pods, medics and the mapping center. Cal Fire set it up on the fifth day of the Woolsey Fire to provide a safe, confidential space for firefighters to talk to chaplains and fellow first responders - and to pet emotional support dogs.

Molloy is part of the peer support team. He jokes, "Sometimes people like to see the dogs more than they like to see us, but that's OK."

But the peer support members are also there to just lend an ear to anyone who needs it.

"We are good listeners," Molloy says. "That's our job."

Some common symptoms he says he sees in firefighters are lack of sleep, grief, sadness and frustration.

"What we tell those individuals is, those are normal reactions to an abnormal situation," says Molloy. He and the others also offer suggestions on how to cope ranging from controlled breathing exercises to warning firefighters not to consume alcohol on their day off to getting adequate sleep.

But if a firefighter needs extra help, the team will refer the person to see a mental health specialist and make sure that he or she will have the support needed after returning home.

At the end of his shift, Salas takes a few bags of food over to the picnic tables. He says he doesn't need peer support right now. But he says firefighters aren't heroes. They aren't invulnerable to the things they experience on the job.

"We're human at the end of the day," Salas adds. "We go through a lot of the same things that a lot of the citizens are going through as well."

So he's glad the support trailer is there with fellow firefighters who have his back in case he ever does need it.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
California Offers Safe Space For Firefighters To Work Through Stress And Trauma

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
On the morning of his 23rd birthday, Leonel Salas is just getting off the fireline after battling the Woolsey fire all night in Southern California. "[We] can't get any rest while we're on the lines," he says.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
PARADISE, Butte County - Authorities made a distressing revelation Thursday as firefighters gained ground in containing the worst blaze in California history: the number of missing has skyrocketed to 631.

The news, delivered at a news conference Thursday evening by Butte County Sheriff Kory Honea, came after search crews recovered the remains of seven more victims, bringing the death toll in the disaster to 63.

Earlier in the day, the Sheriff's Department released a list of nearly 300 people who were unaccounted for. By evening, Honea said the doubling of the number of missing individuals was the result of a comprehensive review of 911 calls or other early reports of people who could not be located. It's possible many of those people have not been in contact yet with family or friends, he added.

Firefighters made progress on controlling the 141,000-acre wildfire, increasing containment lines to 40 percent Thursday.

The cause of the blaze remains under investigation, and officials have said they're looking at the possibility that it was sparked by electrical equipment. But Thursday, they revealed that they have identified a possible second origin of the blaze near Concow. They provided no additional details.

Stable conditions and light winds allowing Camp Fire smoke to bring down visibility readings this morning. #cawx pic.twitter.com/nzOX3cVsAM
- NWS Sacramento (@NWSSacramento) November 15, 2018

Meanwhile, officials said that more than a dozen patients - including three firefighters - have been treated at Northern California burn centers in the days after the fire that started Nov. 8 leveled Paradise and surrounding Butte County communities.

In addition, officials were alerted that President Trump planned to visit the disaster area Saturday to meet with "individuals impacted by the wildfires," according to a White House statement.

On Thursday, officials at the Oroville headquarters of the Sheriff's Department began collecting DNA samples from people who may have lost loved ones.

Several families arrived in the morning to submit cheek-swab samples to help authorities possibly identify their loved ones. The samples are needed because, in many cases, fire victims were burned beyond recognition. The county has brought in a Colorado company, ANDE, to expedite the process.

Honea said that of the 63 victims, authorities have tentatively identified 53 but are waiting for DNA results to confirm who they are.

ANDE's technology, which looks like a large microwave oven, can analyze DNA within about two hours, a lot faster than older methods. The FBI authorized the company's technique as part of the Rapid DNA Act of 2017 for use in solving crimes or assisting in war zones. This is the first time the firm has been called to a natural disaster, said spokeswoman Annette Mattern.

"We're just honored we could in some small way be helpful," Mattern said.

The search and recovery effort is a huge undertaking. It includes nearly 500 crew members who have been sifting through debris for signs of remains.

In Paradise and the neighboring community of Magalia, search workers wearing white hazardous-materials suits and face masks and carrying rakes scoured properties Thursday. Toward the center of each town, crews worked furiously to bring evacuated residents one step closer to returning to their properties to assess the damage.

But there is still a great deal to do before authorities can consider repopulating the fire zone and opening the checkpoints, officials said.

Melted power lines must be replaced, along with wooden utility poles that are now broken into pieces, some suspended from wires. Trees that burned from the inside out threaten to crash to the ground.

"People can't come into these areas until the power lines and the trees are rendered safe," said Capt. Chris Vestal of the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection. "Typically repopulation is allowed in phases. Once an area is out of danger, people can go back."

Pacific Gas and Electric Co. workers were out in force replacing power equipment as authorities installed stop signs to replace ruined stoplights. Piles of debris were still smoking around the towns.

Complicating recovery efforts Thursday was an officer-involved, fatal shooting in the evacuation zone near Paradise. A man wanted in connection with two homicides in 2014 was located in a parking lot and subsequently led authorities on a car chase that ultimately ended with the suspect shot and killed after he appeared to point a metallic object at officers, according to Butte County District Attorney Mike Ramsey.

A Sutter County sheriff police dog named Bandit was killed in the encounter, as was a pit bull that was with the suspect.

As of Thursday, the blaze had destroyed 11,862 structures, including 9.700 homes, Cal Fire said.

Smoke from the wildfire continued to plague Northern California, closing down schools across much of the Bay Area as well as cable car lines in San Francisco.
Chronicle staff writers Nanette Asimov and Evan Sernoffsky contributed to this report. Sarah Ravani, Jill Tucker and Gwendolyn Wu are San Francisco Chronicle staff writers. Email: sravani@sfchronicle.com, jtucker@sfchronicle.com, gwendolyn.wu@sfchronicle.com Twitter: Twitter: @sarravani, @jilltucker, @gwendolynawu

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Misery grows in Camp Fire: 63 dead, 631 missing as fearful relatives submit DNA samples

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
PARADISE, Butte County - Authorities made a distressing revelation Thursday as firefighters gained ground in containing the worst blaze in California history: the number of missing has skyrocketed to 631. The news, delivered at a news conference Thursday evening by Butte County Sheriff Kory Honea, came after search crews recovered the remains of seven more victims, bringing the death toll in the disaster to 63.

# data[].attributes.body
What's #trending on social media?

# data[].attributes.headline
Google has become the go-to search engine, but have you mastered how to find what you're looking for on the first try? 

# data[].attributes.subject
Google has become the go-to search engine, but have you mastered how to find what you're looking for on the first try? 

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Image credit: Ivanko_Brnjakovic | Getty Images

2 min read

You can find pretty much anything online. However, it can be difficult to sort through the abundance of content. Luckily, with a few hacks, you'll be on your way to find anything you're looking for with Google.
Related: 8 Tech Skills Entrepreneurs Must Have to Succeed
Your first step should always be to use Google's quick answers, the results that pop up in the outlined box at the top of a search results page. To get the most out of quick answers, be as specific as possible. For example, if you are searching for a flight update, type in the airline and flight number. Google's quick answers will show that flight information at the top on the page. Tip: the more exact you are, the better.
Related: 3 Ways to Build A Mobile App With No Tech Skills
The next best Google search practice is knowing the most useful search operators. Using certain symbols and words can help you sort through the clutter and find exactly what you're looking for. For example, if you're shopping for something and have a budget, type in the product you're looking for, followed by the least amount you're willing to pay, two periods and the highest price you'll pay. For example: digital camera $200 .. $300. Looking for a specific type of document? Type in the document topic followed by the file type (i.e. business acumen filetype: PDF).

When it comes to searching for images, you can customize and filter results. First, choose the size you're looking for in the "Size" drop down menu, then sort by "Color" and "Type" (animated, clip art, face, etc.). To avoid running into any copyright issues, you can filter by "Usage Rights." If you already have a picture and want to find more similar to it, you can upload the image to Google and it will conduct a reverse search for you.
Related: Amping Up Employee Tech Skills Is a Bargain With These 4 Tools
From customizing your shopping results to managing your video searches, take a look at NetCredit 's infographic below to get the most out of Google search.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
How to Find Almost Anything With Google (Infographic)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
These quick tips will help you navigate the search engine and sort through results.

# data[].attributes.body
How about creating a story or infographic with Thanksgiving tips. If your campus is having a food drive, help promote it!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
It's that time of year again - time to take a quick break from the lectures, assignments and projects to spend a few days celebrating one of America's most beloved holidays. Are you looking forward to your five-day break from OTC? The college will be closed Wednesday, Nov. 23 through Sunday, Nov. 27 to commemorate Thanksgiving. And whether you're most looking forward to a break from homework or more time with family, here are a few pun-filled tips to help you get the most out of Thanksgiving Break.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
5 tips to get the most out of your Thanksgiving Break

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
It's that time of year again - time to take a quick break from the lectures, assignments and projects to spend a few days celebrating one of America's most beloved holidays. Are you looking forward to your five-day break from OTC? The college will be closed Wednesday, Nov. 23 through Sunday, Nov.

# data[].attributes.headline
It's more than a phase... stream it through via Waze

# data[].attributes.subject
It's more than a phase... stream it through via Waze

# data[].attributes.body
The feature allows drivers to listen to and browse music, audiobooks, radio, and podcasts without ever leaving the popular traffic app.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Last year, Waze successfully integrated Spotify directly into its navigation app. Now, the company is building a more full-featured audio player.

The Waze Audio Player is launching for beta-testers Monday and rolls out more widely to all Waze users on Nov. 14. The feature allows drivers to listen to and browse music, audiobooks, radio, and podcasts without ever leaving the popular traffic app.

Upon its initial release, the Waze Audio Player will support eight different audio services: Pandora, Deezer, iHeartRadio, NPR, Scribd, Stitcher, TuneIn, and Spotify.

Adam Fried, head of global partnerships at Waze, gave Mashable an early preview of the audio player and showed off how it seamlessly pulls in Spotify playlists or Pandora's thumbs-up (or down) ratings. To launch the player, users will simply click the big pink "audio" button on the app's main screen.

The best thing about the Waze Audio Player is that it makes it easier to follow traffic directions while fiddling with audio. Even if you switch over to, say, the Spotify app, Waze keeps a small panel at the top of the screen that shows you the next direction - so you never lose track of where you're driving.

The player will launch with the eight previously mentioned audio-streaming services, but more will likely be added over time, thanks to the new Waze Audio Kit for developers. This will make it easier for streaming services to integrate with the player.

If this announcement sounds eerily familiar that's because it is. Google Maps, operated by Waze's parent company Alphabet, recently brought music-streaming integration into its app earlier this year.

For those using Waze on CarPlay or Android Auto, the new player won't work through that, but Fried said it hopefully will soon.

You can sign up for the Waze Beta Community to start using the new player while slogging through your morning commute. Or wait a few weeks until the public release.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Waze is adding a new in-app audio player

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Waze adds an audio player into the navigation app to listen to music, books, radio, and podcasts through the app while driving.

# data[].attributes.body
What happens when you give up "the sweet life?"

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
We Quit Sugar For A Month, Here's What Happened

# data[].attributes.headline
It’s too dangerous for you in your country. For your safety, you decide that you must leave behind everything you know and head to the U.S. You aren’t certain you will be able to get there. 

# data[].attributes.subject
It’s too dangerous for you in your country. For your safety, you decide that you must leave behind everything you know and head to the U.S. You aren’t certain you will be able to get there. 

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Years-long wait lists, bewildering legal arguments, an extended stay in detention - you can experience it all in the Waiting Game, a newsgame that simulates the experience of trying to seek asylum in the United States. The game was created by ProPublica, Playmatics and WNYC. Based on the true stories of real asylum-seekers, this interactive portal allows users to follow in the footsteps of five people fleeing persecution and trying to take refuge in America.

The process can be exhausting and feel arbitrary - and as you'll find in the game, it involves a lot of waiting. Once asylum-seekers reach America, they must condense complex and often traumatic stories into short, digestible narratives they will tell again and again. Their lives often depend on their ability to convince a judge that they are in danger. Judicial decisions are so inconsistent across the country, success in complicated cases can come down to geography and luck -- in New York City only 17 percent of asylum cases are denied in immigration court; in Atlanta, 94 percent are. Increasingly, many asylum-seekers are held in detention for months or even years while going through the system. The immigration detention system costs more than $2 billion per year to maintain.

The Trump administration has tried to reframe the asylum system as a national security threat and a magnet for illegal immigration. Attorney General Jeff Sessions characterizes the American asylum process as "subject to rampant abuse" and "overloaded with fake claims." He has aimed recent reforms at expediting asylum adjudications to speed up deportations and at making it more difficult for certain groups to qualify for protection, such as Central Americans who claim to fear gender-based violence or gang persecution.

The narrative that the system is overrun with fraud has long been pushed by groups that favor limiting immigration overall. They point to some 37 percent of asylum-seekers who annually miss their immigration hearings as evidence that people without legitimate fears of persecution game the system. They argue that allowing asylum-seekers to obtain work permits while they wait for a decision on their cases - which sometimes takes years - incentivizes baseless claims.

But another picture emerged when ProPublica spoke with more than 20 experts and stakeholders who study and work in the asylum system, including lawyers, immigration judges, historians, policy experts, an asylum officer, a former border patrol agent and a former ICE prosecutor.

When asked about changes to the system they'd like to see, many suggested providing asylum-seekers with better access to lawyers to support due process, expanding the definition of a refugee to cover modern-day conflicts,providing more resources to help the system process claims in a timely manner, and improving judicial independence by moving immigration courts out of the Department of Justice.

Most acknowledged some level of asylum-claim abuse exists. "In any system, of course, there are going to be some bad actors and some weaknesses people seek to exploit," said Doris Meissner, the former commissioner of the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service from 1993 to 2000.

But they also argued for the importance of protecting and improving a national program that has provided refuge to hundreds of thousands of people. "If you are going to make a mistake in the immigration area, make this mistake," said Bill Hing, director of the University of San Francisco's Immigration and Deportation Defense Clinic. "Protect people that may not need protecting, but don't make the mistake of not protecting people who need it."

Victor Manjarrez, a former border patrol agent from the 1980s until 2011, said he had seen human smuggling networks exploit the border over the years, but also many people who genuinely needed help.

"We have a system that's not perfect, but is designed to take refugees. That is the beauty of it," he said. "It has a lot of issues, but we have something in place that is designed to be compassionate. And that's why we have such a big political debate about this."

The asylum system was created in the wake of the U.S. and other countries' refusal to let in Jewish refugees during the Holocaust.

World War II sparked our current asylum and refugee policy. During the war, safe countries like the United States largely shut their doors to Jewish refugees, citing national security concerns. In one notorious example, the U.S. turned away a boat of nearly 1,000 Jews escaping Nazi Germany in 1939. More than a quarter of the ship's refugees eventually were killed in Europe during the Holocaust.

After the war, the international community attempted to create a more orderly system for aiding people in danger. This resulted in the 1951 U.N. Refugee Convention and its 1967 protocol, which defined a refugee as a person fleeing persecution based on "race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group, or political opinion." The convention included an article prohibiting countries from penalizing refugees for entering a foreign country illegally as long as "they present themselves without delay to the authorities and show good cause for their illegal entry or presence." It also obligated signatories not to return any asylum-seekers to countries where their lives or freedom would be threatened.

The U.S. signed on, but initially dealt with refugee crises on a case-by-case basis, usually tied to foreign policy objectives. Early major refugee programs addressed people fleeing Communist countries, including the resettlement of Hungarian refugees after the 1956 revolution, the Vietnamese resettlement program after the Vietnam War, and refugee boat lifts after the Cuban revolution.

The U.S.' current system to accept refugees wasn't created until decades later.

It wasn't until President Jimmy Carter's last year in office that the U.S. passed a formal law, the 1980 Refugee Act, to provide a permanent system for admitting refugees. This law was a product of the universal human rights activist movement of the 1960s and 1970s, a moment when nationalism was at an ebb. "It set up a mechanism where the United States can accept refugees from all over the world. In the decades prior, those admissions were much more targeted and limited," said Carl Bon Tempo, a historian at SUNY Albany and the author of Americans at the Gate: The United States and Refugees during the Cold War.

The law created formal programs: for refugee resettlement from abroad, and for asylum-seekers who ask for protection once already inside the U.S.

On the simplest level, the law had two components: one that resettles refugees vetted abroad by the United Nations, and another to process asylum-seekers fleeing immediate danger who arrive in America first and then apply for protection.

If a person seeking protection makes it into the interior of the U.S. - often after first entering on a legal visa - they can file what is called an "affirmative" asylum application within one year. This means they'll have an interview with a U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services asylum officer in a non-adversarial setting. Less than a third of applicants are granted asylum in the interview stage. The rest are referred to immigration court.

If an asylum-seeker presents a claim at the border or is caught and ordered deported but expresses a "credible fear" of persecution in their home country, they can only file a "defensive" application - and then are sent straight to the immigration court system. Applicants have about a 50 percent chance of receiving asylum in the courts, though it varies widely by judge.

When Congress passed the 1980 Refugee Act, they didn't anticipate how often it would be used.

"When asylum was first written into the Refugee Act, it was not viewed as the path that maybe tens of thousands of people, or even thousands of people, might claim annually as their way to get in," said Bon Tempo. "It was seen as a legal pathway for someone to gain admission, but that very few will pursue."

That's not what happened. The introduction of the act coincided with civil wars in El Salvador, Guatemala and Nicaragua that triggered a large-scale migration. Asylum applications quickly rose. Over the years, the expansion of affordable travel has also meant that asylum-seekers from all over the world can more easily reach the U.S. on visas to find immediate safety and then apply for protection. The number of asylum applications has fluctuated over the years, but in 2014, it began to rise sharply, this time mostly from Central Americans trying to escape rampant gang violence their governments have been unable to control. Most of them arrived at the border and filed defensive asylum applications.

"Part of the problem with modern asylum procedure is you have so many people applying, many more than the system can actually handle," Bon Tempo said.

Though the law hasn't changed, the Trump administration has been reshaping the asylum system in other ways.

The Trump administration has promised to cut both legal and illegal immigration. A big piece of this effort is reframing the asylum system as a national security issue instead of a humanitarian program and characterizing asylum-seekers at the border as illegal entrants.

"Congress has so far refused to pass draconian legislation the administration wants that would cut off access to U.S. refugee protection," said Eleanor Acer, the director of the refugee protection program at Human Rights First. "The administration is trying to do everything it can... to limit access to asylum and to rush people through the process, giving the appearance of due process while at the same time undercutting it."

When asked about the criticism, a spokesperson from the Department of Justice said the reforms are "common sense" and "designed to increase efficiency and productivity in an immigration court system that has languished after years of neglect and failed leadership, and all are made while ensuring that due process is not compromised."

Much of the administration's efforts have been aimed at the asylum case backlog.

The recent spike in claims from Central Americans at the U.S.-Mexico border has contributed to an unprecedented backlog of more than 680,000 cases in immigration courts, more than double the number in 2013 (these include both defensive asylum cases and other types of immigration cases). There are also 300,000 affirmative cases waiting to be processed by USCIS, an increase of 1,750 percent over the last five years. Asylum-seekers often wait three to four years to have their cases heard, and the process can take even longer if they are initially denied and then appeal their cases. In 2016, the most current year of complete data available, 20,455 applicants were granted asylum and 11,643 were denied. In the same year, more than 180,000 new asylum applications were filed.

Some, like Sessions, worry that a backlog invites perverse incentives. Once asylum-seekers file an application, some are eligible to apply for a work permit if they have not received a decision after 180 days. (It usually takes 240 days to actually get a work permit.) If their cases take years to be reviewed, that means they may spend all that time working and establishing themselves in the U.S., and eventually can apply for another form of legal residency.

Though Sessions argues there is "rampant fraud" in the asylum system, there is no clear evidence to quantify how widespread the problem is.

Experts say fraud does not define the system.

"We do a really good job of handling asylum fraud," said a current USCIS asylum officer, speaking on condition of anonymity. "Even if someone manages to get a benefit in the short term, we always come back and get them. We do asylum terminations if we find evidence." Examples include identifying rehearsed stories that are repeated over and over, or catching misrepresentations, like African men who claim persecution because they are gay, but later file for a wife's residency papers.

Many asylum-seekers with legal representation also undergo physical and psychological evaluations to help support their case, and sometimes country experts are called to assess an asylum-seeker's story. The Executive Office of Immigration Review, which oversees immigration courts, also has a Law Library and Immigration Research Center to keep up-to-date on human rights conditions in different countries.

Most immigration experts say outright fraud is rare. Even though many asylum cases are rejected, they are usually filed by people in good faith with legitimate fears, but who may not fit a narrow interpretation of asylum law.

Other false claims, as Javad Khazeli, a former ICE prosecutor from 2003 to 2010 explained, can be attributed to immigration scams. Over the years, he saw cases of immigrants duped by what's known as a "notario" - people who falsely market themselves as qualified to give legal advice. These non-attorneys sometimes promise undocumented immigrants they can help them obtain a work permit, and instead file an asylum claim on their behalf. The person gets a work permit while they're waiting, and then are surprised and confused when their case comes up, Khazeli, now an immigration lawyer, said.

But he questioned trying to paint the asylum system as rife with false claims. "One of the driving forces of the small percentage of fraudulent cases are notarios, sure," he said. "How do you put notarios out of business? You make sure people have access to good legal services."

Advocates say there's a problem with the system that needs to be addressed: The government should provide asylum-seekers with lawyers, since the cases often involve life or death stakes.

This was a solution favored by many experts ProPublica spoke with. While asylum-seekers have the right to find legal representation, they are not entitled to a free lawyer. Applicants have legal counsel in only 37 percent of cases that go through immigration courts. Asylum-seekers held in detention in remote locations often have particular difficulty finding representation. This can make a big difference: 90 percent of applicants without representation had their cases denied in 2016, versus nearly 50 percent of applicants with lawyers.

"These are death penalty cases - you fear you'll be killed if you are sent back and you don't even have an attorney," said Karen Musalo, the director of the Center for Gender & Refugee Studies at University of California Hastings. Even children are not guaranteed legal representation. Yet, studies have shown that children who have access to legal counsel are far more likely to show up for their hearing than those who don't.

Though it's difficult to estimate how much it would cost the federal government to provide legal counsel to every applicant in immigration court, a few studies have tried to put a number on it: A 2014 economic analysis estimated that such a program would largely be offset by reduced detention costs, and cost $4 million extra a year. A study from 2016 that focused on California estimated each immigration case would cost $5,000 in legal fees.

Instead, the Justice Department seems to have made it even more difficult for asylum-seekers to access legal counsel.

This month, Sessions announced the department would temporarily halt a know-your-rights and pro-bono legal program and telephone help-line that serves nearly 50,000 detained immigrants per year, in order to assess effectiveness and costs. The program costs $6 million annually.

"I don't think we pay enough attention to our immigration court system," said Manjarrez, the former Border Patrol agent. Lawyers who are familiar with complicated immigration law can also help make sure asylum claims are clear and well-documented, saving time, he said. "If checks are being cut and I'm the Border Patrol guy, and they say, 'We'll give you more agents and more wall,' I'd say, 'No -- send it to the immigration courts.' It'll help us in the long term, because they'll help the flow and start to slow detentions."

The immigration court system has made progress in hiring new judges since Trump took office, putting the total at 334. But more than 100 positions are still vacant and advocates estimate it would take around 200 extra judges to tackle the backlog.

Another short-term tactic to stem the backlog and limit fraud is to process newer asylum cases more quickly. In March, USCIS announced a new policy: Instead of processing affirmative asylum claims on a chronological basis, they'll now switch to handling the newest claims first. Lawyers are alarmed that clients with strong asylum claims who have been waiting for years to move on with their lives will now be put on hold indefinitely. "I think that's going to have a devastating impact," said Jaya Ramji-Nogales, a law professor at Temple University and the author of Refugee Roulette. "If their claim was granted, they could bring their family over and regularize their family's status here. Now they'll be stuck in limbo."

But Meissner saw the measure as a pragmatic step to restore faith in the system and get asylum claims processed in a timely manner again. She said during her time leading the INS, the precursor to USCIS, she faced the challenge of reducing a backlog of more than 400,000 cases in 1994. INS instituted a similar last-in, first-out system and made asylum-seekers wait six months to get a work permit instead of as soon as they filed an application. The changes yielded results: new claims slowed and approvals went up. "These are tough decisions," she said. "What you want to do is set up the system that makes it possible to do the job and curb the possibility of abuses."

More worrisome to some are new policies aimed at the courts.

Sessions has broad authority over immigration courts because they operate under the U.S. Department of Justice. This means he has the power to select immigration judges, overturn Board of Immigration Appeals decisions, and decide precedents, all with little oversight.

In April, the Justice Department introduced a quota system on immigration judges tied to their job performance ratings. The new rule requires judges to process at least 700 cases a year (they usually process an average of 678) to earn a satisfactory grade. Judge A. Ashley Tabaddor, president of the National Association of Immigration Judges, said such a change would damage the court's credibility. "Quotas and deadlines that have been announced are, frankly, unreasonable," she said. "The very concept is in conflict with the independent decision-making authority of judges."

Last year, the Justice Department also released a memo encouraging immigration judges to "carefully consider administrative efficiency" before granting continuance requests, which allow asylum-seekers extra time to find legal representation or gather necessary documents. The memo cited a 2012 DOJ Inspector General report that found that "frequent and lengthy continuances" were a significant factor in increased case processing times and that over half of all cases surveyed had one or more continuances.

Lawyers predicted these new policies may actually increase the immigration court backlog because rushed asylum hearings would result in more lawyers appealing cases, arguing that due process was violated.

Recent changes aren't just about speeding up asylum decisions and deportations.

On the campaign trail, Trump often decried what he called "catch and release" -- processing asylum-seekers with an initial screening at the border, and then releasing them on bond until their court date. His administration has begun detaining almost all defensive asylum-seekers coming through the border until their cases are heard, arguing that this is a necessary step to ensure the immigrants don't melt away and miss their hearings.

But lawyers see the expansion of detention as an effort to deter asylum-seekers from continuing with their claims - which contravenes international law. "Our detention system is unique in the way that it is truly prison-like, even though we recognize that asylum is not part of the criminal justice process," said Denise Gilman, a law professor who runs the Immigration Clinic at the University of Texas. Keeping asylum-seekers locked up for months or even years when they've committed no crime further traumatizes people already suffering, she said. Some simply give up and accept deportation in order to leave detention.

Sessions has also indicated plans to make it even more difficult for some types of asylum cases to qualify for protection. In March, he referred two major Board of Immigration Appeals cases to himself. In one, he vacated a ruling that held asylum applicants have the right to a full hearing before a judge, an effort to cut off asylum-seekers who spend years trying to appeal denied cases or who have cases that, on paper, look unlikely to succeed. Advocates worry the decision may be used to summarily deport asylum-seekers who face language barriers or have difficulty documenting their asylum claims, especially those without legal counsel.

In the other case, he is reviewing whether victims of "private crime" - in this case, domestic violence - can qualify for asylum. Experts predict the decision may also be used to prevent most Central Americans fleeing gang violence from receiving asylum.

Gang violence and domestic abuse fall under the most flexible of the five asylum categories: "membership in a particular social group." This has been a controversial category for years, lawyers said, because it does not have a clear definition. In parts of Central America, people don't face outright war, "but high levels of civil violence, often combined with an inability of the government to protect its people," said Leon Rodriguez, director of USCIS from 2013 to 2017. "The upshot is that you have a lot of people who are pretty scared, and in a lot of cases, are really at risk of dying violently when returning to countries, but it doesn't fit into the traditional definition of asylum and refugee status."

Some judges regularly accept the "particular social group" categorization for women facing gender-based violence; others rarely do. In recent years, gang violence in Central America has risen to an unprecedented level and pushed countless people to flee for their lives, but the courts still only recognize Central Americans claiming gang persecution as legitimate asylum-seekers in narrow cases - around 80 percent of asylum claims from Central America were denied in immigration court in 2016.

While Sessions' decision on the issue, expected in May, may narrow the definition to exclude almost all Central American claims, advocates have long argued for widening the language of "particular social group" to help meet the struggles of the specific conflicts that the world faces today.

"Nobody would be able to predict what forms persecution would take in the future, so the authors of the 1951 Refugee Convention and 1967 protocol purposely designed a definition that would adapt to changing modern reality," said Stephen Legomsky, the chief counsel of USCIS from 2011 to 2013. He favors expanding the "particular social group" language to fit people fleeing gender-based violence in countries that don't have adequate legal systems to protect women and LGBT communities, and some people trying to escape gangs.

But these kinds of steps seem unlikely under the current administration. As Bon Tempo, the historian, noted, refugee policy has always been "a product of politics, and controversial."

"I try to caution people against falling into two traps: the 'Statue of Liberty' idea: "give us your poor, your wretched," open-door image. And the other extreme, like what happens in the 1930s, where European Jews are facing persecution from the Nazis and America does largely shut its doors," he said.

"The reason immigration politics gets so hot is because it basically is an exercise in self-definition: This is what the U.S. is. This is what we stand for. And there are a lot of different opinions on what the actual answers to those questions are."

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.authors[].name
Sisi Wei, Nick Fortugno, Kavitha Surana, Matt Katz

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Years-long wait lists, bewildering legal arguments, an extended stay in detention - you can experience it all in the Waiting Game, a newsgame that simulates the experience of trying to seek asylum in the United States. The game was created by ProPublica, Playmatics and WNYC.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Mobile storytelling startup Hooked has just announced a feature-length multimedia fiction thriller series, produced specifically for vertical screens, which will debut exclusively on Snapchat. It'll be available globally within the Hooked Publisher Story on Snapchat's Discover Page, with the first of five daily chapters arriving on Friday, October 26.

Dark Matter comes from screenwriter and Hooked staff writer Elyse Endick, and follows Tasneem (Taz) Singh, a South Asian American senior at Stanford University, as she explores her twin sister's mysterious death while learning she can interact with paranormal entities, or, dark matter. Elements of the story will include chat messages, custom illustrations, and 1940's radio drama-esque voice track. The Snapchat story will unfold quickly, with chapters delivered daily from Friday, October 26 through Tuesday, October 30. In total, the fast-paced tale will be around 32,000 words, and available in seven languages: English, Arabic, Spanish, French, German, Portuguese and Norwegian. Multiple installments of Dark Matter are planned for 2019.

So how does the company deliver on their core value of addictive narratives? An economy of words aimed at internet users' limited attention spans, for one.

"To keep the audience engaged, you have to be pithy and keep the story moving along at a brisk pace," Prerna Gupta,Co-founder and CEO at Hooked, tells me. "But, unlike film and TV, you don't have the actors' facial expressions or scenery to convey the emotional depth and richness of your world.

"In a traditional novel, writers do this through long paragraphs of descriptive text. We don't have that luxury in our format. A lot of the art and science of Hooked is in figuring out how to convey that same richness through fewer words. The audio track and images have a huge impact as well."

Dark Matter follows over 1,000 original stories from Hooked, read by a total of 100 million people worldwide across both Hooked's app and Snapchat. True to its name, Hooked reports that 60 percent of users return to read more at least twice a week. As the release of Dark Matter indicates - Gupta calls it "a pivotal moment for our company" in their press release - Hooked is doubling down on its strength, aiming to deliver more propulsive narratives across new platforms and audiences in the future.

While a multimedia Snapchat-hosted thiller may be breaking new ground, it still relies on storytelling basics. "At the same time," Gupta says, "our format presents a unique opportunity to tell a visceral story that appeals to universal human emotions. It's because our stories are pithy and focus on fundamental aspects of the human experience that they have such broad appeal around the world." Fiction formats may have changed over the millennia, from campfire myths to printed novels to the internet's version of the campfire myth to Snapchat-based audio and chat messages, but they'll always, at their core, be about the human experience.

I write on the strategy behind the publishing industry and on how the business of storytelling is spilling out into other mediums like graphic novels, podcasts, apps, and fan fiction sites. I'm a senior writer at startup news site TechCo, and a contributor for the Barnes and...

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Storytelling Startup Hooked Debuts A Snapchat-Hosted Multimedia Thriller Today

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Mobile storytelling startup Hooked has just announced a feature-length multimedia fiction thriller series. It will be available globally within the Hooked Publisher Story on Snapchat's Discover Page, with the first of five daily chapters arriving on Friday, October 26.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Latest Sports News, Scores, Stats, Videos and Fantasy Sports - USA TODAY Sports

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Latest sports news, scores, schedules, stats and more for all pro sports including NFL, MLB, NBA, NHL, college sports, high school sports and more.

# data[].attributes.headline
Get the data you need for your sports stories

# data[].attributes.subject
Get the data you need for your sports stories

# data[].attributes.headline
Naomi Watts to start in "Game of Thrones" sequel

# data[].attributes.subject
Naomi Watts to start in "Game of Thrones" sequel

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
'Game of Thrones' prequel adds another: Josh Whitehouse joins cast

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
The news comes the day after EW reported that Naomi Watts was joining the series in a starring role.

# data[].attributes.headline
How 'Chilling Adventures of Sabrina' achieved its 'Suspiria'-inspired look

# data[].attributes.subject
How 'Chilling Adventures of Sabrina' achieved its 'Suspiria'-inspired look

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Two classic horror films, "Rosemary's Baby" and "The Exorcist," have been the go-to reference guide to describe the tonal feel of Netflix's "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina." But when it comes to the look of the series, it's fair to say "Suspiria" - Dario Argento's 1977 brightly hued horror film, not this year's remake starring Dakota Johnson - cast quite a spell.

Creator Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, who sparked an Archie-Comics-reconsidered frenzy with his CW noir teen drama "Riverdale," collaborated with production designer Lisa Soper, who supervises the design of the sets, to build their version of Sabrina Spellman's (Kiernan Shipka) town of Greendale. Here, as the titular character informs the audience in the first moments of the series, "it always feels like Halloween."

"He told me to think about classic horror and mentioned 'Suspiria,' " Soper says while wandering the sets on the show's sound stages. "I really latched on to that because I've worked on a lot of horror features over the years, and when people use that as a reference point and you show them the actual colors Argento used, they get scared and end up dialing it right back to a super, super dark palette. It ends up becoming a stereotypical look."

With "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina," a coming-of-age teen drama that revolves around the push-and-pull of a young mortal witch caught between two worlds, Soper wanted to cling to the classic's color.

"It's always fall in Greendale," says Soper. "But I didn't want this world where fall is just browns and grays and blues and the dark of night. It was about grabbing on to the reds and yellows and the golds and the last little bit of green - that green that's like a really strong emerald because it's wet and hanging on to dear life."

World-buidling has become a hallmark of modern television as viewers, now able to playback on a DVR or stream a show at any time, can study the visual elements more easily. It's the details that can play a big role in helping or hurting the believability of the storytelling.

"She just knew the world," is how Aguirre-Sacasa describes what Soper delivered. "She knew the mythology, and we had the same touchstone. I can't quite imagine what the show would have been without her."

Wanting flexibility, and control over the environment, Soper and her team did things like place set pieces on wheels and fashion tight nooks for cameras on the dozens of sets built on a nearby soundstage at Martini Film Studios. The flooring, countertops and wallpaper (some designs created, others purchased and downloaded) of all the sets are printed in-house, working with the furniture to create a retro aesthetic for the show's present-day setting.

"The set is incredible," Shipka says before starting a day of shooting on the already-commissioned second season. "There's all these nooks and crannies, and everything is so detailed - you don't even realize it. It helps tremendously to walk into a set where it just feels real and home and grand and wonderful. I was a big Harry Potter fan, so I feel like I'm in my own magical world. You take it for granted when you're there every single day, but it's insane."

Soper shared some insight into the world of "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina."

For a family of witches - even one with a part-mortal member - a house is not a home without a little Gothic touch. "House of Seven Gables" by Nathaniel Hawthorne served as the inspiration for the mood of the Spellman house, while the actual House of Seven Gables standing in Salem, Mass., influenced the look of it.

"The home is where you can start getting into the characters' quirks," Soper said.

As viewers venture inside, the house is built in a spiral pattern, Soper said, to evoke the buildup and suspense of horror.

"The office leads to living room that leads to the botanical room that leads to the kitchen that leads to the next room, " she said.

With its divided flights, the Imperial staircase is meant to mirror the two paths for Sabrina - into the mortal world and the witch world. When she's coming down the left side, it's meant to imply she's in a witchy mood; down the right side, she's in a mortal state of mind.

Soper pored over details that might get overlooked by most viewers. The windows at the main entrance, for example, feature symbols for a death spell and a resurrection spell. The wallpaper in the foyer, a design with trees of different shades of green and deer nibbling on grass, was a device to bring the outside in.

"We wanted the outside world of the woods, where the witches are, to come in," Soper said. "So you still feel like you're in that environment without literally putting trees inside the home." That mother nature-feel carries into the kitchen, with hues of green and elements of wood.

And every door handle in the home is at a different height throughout the house: "It's a witches house," Soper says. "Everything is just slightly strange."

A bedroom, for most teenagers, is a sacred haven for angst. For Sabrina, it's a patchwork of her personhood. Photos of David Bowie, the Monkees, and the Beatles line the walls. Tarot cards take up space on her vanity mirror, just above a retro Archie Comics thermos (that Soper found on EBay) taking up space on the tabletop. And a collage of Polaroid photos - each a portrait of trees from various angles - takes the shape of a growing tree on one of her walls.

"It's a lot more youthful, has a lot more life, than the rest of the house," Soper says. "It has less of the old, stringent witchy side to it. Everything else in the home has a centuries-old feel to it. Here, things are much more eclectic. The story here is someone ready to carve her own path."

Even a teenage mortal witch has to go to school. The town of Greendale has been affected by negative forces; the trick was to show that there is still life to it. That all comes into play with the look of Baxter High, the school Sabrina attends in the mortal world.

"It's old and drab, but there's still so much life to it," Soper says. The colors of the school are drab and dreary but get punched up with decorations for the various themes or holidays the school is celebrating. On this day, with production on the show's second season underway, pinks and reds pop in the school hallway for Valentine's Day.

The exterior shots were filmed at Lord Strathcona Elementary School in Vancouver. The large framed photo that hangs over the trophy case on the school set is a shot of that school, taken by Soper on her phone.

The essence of the series is that Sabrina is caught between two worlds: the mortal world of her mother, and the witch world of her father. That duality plays out on campus - anything done in the witch world, they try to do a mortal version of it too.

"For me, with the school, it was about trying to give it history but also have this visual interest to it," Soper says. "I didn't want to make it look like being mortal sucks. We wanted to show the benefits of both sides."

The school in the magical world also had to feel like a place of learning without giving off Baxter High vibes. The interior of the school is designed to be a series of identically shaped rooms - taking inspiration from pentagrams, a five-pointed star made from one continuous line, and fractals, a ceaseless pattern. With a change of artwork, lighting or paneling, a room can transform into a sewing room, library, cafeteria, classroom, dormitory, and music room - all with the illusion that it's one part of the larger space.

"I wanted the rooms to be interconnected," Soper says. "We have this unlimited rich changeover that we can do."

Even the floor - a geometrical pattern - looks like a Magic Eye optical illusion.

"When the camera is panning down from above, I wanted it to look like you're falling into the floor," she says.

Instead of framed photos of a memorable homecoming game or a school dance, the walls here are lined with horror images. Clive Barker, a luminary of the horror genre with works including "Hellraiser" and "Candyman," provided more than 100 original painting to line the walls of the academy.

"He has floors and floors of his house just filled with his incredible artwork," Soper says. "He said, 'Take what you want.' They've really made the space come to life."

A teen drama isn't a teen drama without a hangout spot. But for Sabrina and her mortal friends , the spot needed to have a little bit more character, Soper says. She and Aguirre-Sacasa checked out an old store front from the 1920s in Cloverdale, Surrey, British Columbia, and the ideas came. They talked about the days when weathermen used to appear on late night television on Fridays or Saturdays, dressed as a vampire or werewolf before introducing an airing of a scary show or movie.

"So we thought, 'What if one of those weatherman retired and couldn't let it go and opened a comic shop/cafe," Soper recalls.

With the help of the art department, the hangout spot took shape. The eccentric space includes a werewolf that sits in one of the diner booths ("We change his position every once in a while") and mannequins dressed in costumes ("Everyday is Halloween in there"). The comics on display include old Archie horror comics and comics drawn by Soper and her husband.

Soper says it's become a place with most of the color in the mortal world of Greendale: "Whereas the school, the individual characters' houses are a little bit less saturated, here there are massive amounts of neon and crazy colors."

And, hey, it's an easy commute for Soper. She hadn't yet found housing when she was scouting the location before production started on the show. She noticed a vacant apartment upstairs from the storefront, and it's now her home base.

"I was like, 'Well, this will save me some time," Soper says. "I'll be back at work when I go home at night, and I'll be at work when I wake up in the morning."

Rating: TV-14 (may be unsuitable for children under the age of 14)

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina2018 TV-14 1 Part

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Here's how 'Chilling Adventures of Sabrina' achieved its 'Suspiria'-inspired look - Los Angeles Times

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
A look at the making of the dark world featured in "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina." We talked to the show's production designer, Lisa Soper, about what went into creating the noir look of the series.

# data[].attributes.body
Good ethics discussion

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Yemen Dispatch: In Yemen, Lavish Meals for Few, Starvation for Many and a Dilemma for Reporters

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
In embattled Yemen, the contrasts are stark as desperate beggars congregate outside markets filled with goods for anyone who can afford them. Should a journalist put down his notebook and help?

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Yemen Dispatch

Image

A woman in the poor mountain village of Al Juberia, Yemen. Credit Credit Tyler Hicks/The New York Times

SANA, Yemen - At a restaurant in the Yemeni capital, Sana, a waiter brought bowls of slow-cooked lamb served with mounds of rice. For dessert there was kunafa, the classic Arab dish of golden brown pastry filled with cheese.

An hour later I was back at work, in a hushed hospital ward filled with malnourished children with skeletal faces, hanging between life and death for want of money and a good meal.

If that juxtaposition strikes you as jarring, even distasteful, it felt that way to me, too.

Crisis zones are often places of stark contrast, but in Yemen the gulf is particularly uncomfortable. The problem isn't a lack of food; it's that few people can afford to buy what food is available.

Years of blockades, bombs and soaring inflation have crushed the economy. A crushed state means there is no safety net.

As a result, beggars congregate outside supermarkets filled with goods; markets are filled with produce in towns where the hungry eat boiled leaves; and restaurants selling rich food are a few hundred yards from hunger wards filled with desperation, pain and death.

For a reporter, that brings a dilemma. Journalists travel with bundles of hard currency, usually dollars, to pay for hotels, transport and translation. A small fraction of that cash might go a long way for a starving family. Should I pause, put down my notebook and offer to help?

It's a question some readers asked after we published a recent article on Yemen's looming famine.

Many were touched by a powerful photograph by Tyler Hicks of Amal Hussain, an emaciated 7-year-old girl whose haunting stare brought the war's human cost into shocking focus.

And many were devastated to learn that, soon after we left, Amal's mother brought her back to the shabby refugee camp they call home, where she died a few days later.

Image

Amal Hussain, who died at age 7 from malnutrition soon after this photograph was taken. Credit Tyler Hicks/The New York Times

Some, in their anguish, turned the focus back on us.

Why didn't we do something to save Amal's life, they wanted to know. Did we just take the photo, conduct the interview and move on? Couldn't we have somehow ensured that her family would get help?

"You can take the picture AND provide assistance," one woman said on Twitter. "One doesn't rule out the other."

The questions resonated. Reporters are trained to bear witness; aid workers and doctors have the job of helping people.

Donating money, or other forms of assistance, can be fraught with ethical, moral and practical complications. Is it fair to single out one person or family for help? What if they embellish their story for the next foreigner who comes along, thinking they could get more money?

Plus, we have a job to do.

Doctors show us around, and sometimes we end up acting like them - examining stick-like limbs and flaccid skin with clinical detachment; tabulating figures about weight and age; listening as families recount their tragedies with amazing calm. The prospect of death is discussed. We nod sagely, make a note, move on.

But while we may try to mimic a stone, we are not stones, and every day in Yemen someone told me something that made a lump rise in my throat.

Usually it was a mundane detail, like the lack of a few dollars to take a dying child to the hospital. Yemen, you realize, is a country where people are dying for lack of a taxi fare.

Yemenis have to navigate such terrain, too.

While some are dying, others are getting on with living. One night we returned to our hotel in Hajjah, a town ringed by rocky ridges in a province that has been pummeled by Saudi airstrikes. Lying in bed, I was startled by a loud bang then a burst of light that filled the sky - not a bomb, but fireworks.

Since the start of the war, the rate of marriage in Yemen has gone up. And so, in this town where malnourished infants were perishing at the city hospital, others were dancing and celebrating through the night.

But the surge in weddings, it turned out, was a survival mechanism.

Across the social spectrum, Yemenis are sliding down the poverty ladder. Where once a mother bought a sack of rice to feed her family, now she can afford only a small bag. The hand of a daughter in marriage brings a bride price, and so weddings can be a source of income for stretched families.

Disturbingly, many of the brides are children. According to Unicef, two-thirds of Yemeni girls are married before the age of 18, up from 50 percent before the war.

As we crossed Yemen - from the battle-scarred port of Hudaydah to the Houthi-held mountains - on a bumpy 900-mile journey, we saw scenes of heartbreaking suffering that unfolded against a backdrop of spectacular mountains, and customs that stubbornly endure despite everything.

Every day, town centers bustled with men buying khat, the narcotic leaf beloved by Yemenis. The khat bazaars are a social event. Men, some with guns over their shoulders, gather to trade news, meet friends and prepare for the afternoon chew.

Women in black cloaks flitted between them; in one place, a loud argument erupted into fisticuffs. Even as starvation bites, some are reluctant to cut back on their habit.

In one health clinic, Ibrahim Junaid, a worried father standing over his ailing 5-month-old son, was chewing a lump of khat that left a green stain on his teeth and lips.

Mr. Junaid was 60; his wife, 25, stood silently by his side. The nurses wrapped the boy in a gold foil blanket to keep him warm.

Mr. Junaid regretted that his son hadn't enough to eat, adding that he had a lot of mouths to feed; he had married twice, and fathered 13 children.

The value of practices like chewing khat may be hard to understand in such turbulent times. But for men like Mr. Junaid, it is an integral part of their day. And it is a mark of the resilience of an ancient society, one of the oldest civilizations of the Middle East.

"People say Yemen is in a state of chaos, but it's not," said Thierry Durand, an aid worker who has worked in Yemen since the 1980s, and now runs a Doctors Without Borders hospital in Mocha. "There is still structure."

"You can't put it in three lines in your paper or describe it in three minutes on TV," he continued. "This country is structured by family, tribe, traditions - and despite everything, those structures are still there, and they are strong."

Still, Yemeni society is being ravaged by war. Airstrikes by the Saudi-led coalition, aided by American bombs, have killed thousands of civilians, and displaced many more. But for most Yemenis, war strikes their lives in quieter, more insidious ways.

Bombs blow up bridges or factories, killing jobs, causing the currency to crumble and prices to soar, and forcing families to abstain from meat, then vegetables. Soon, they are dependent on international food aid or, in the worst cases, resort to meals of boiled leaves.

Small but vital things, like a cab fare, become unattainable.

As we drove away from the small hospital in Aslam, where Amal Hussain was being treated, we passed a young couple hitching a ride on the side of the road. They were holding a small infant. We stopped and offered them a ride.

They squeezed into the passenger seat - the father, Khalil Hadi, enveloped by the black cloak of his wife, Hanna, who held their fragile 9-month-old son, Wejdan, who had just been released from the malnutrition ward.

Theirs was a typical story. Their home near the Saudi border had been bombed, so they rented a room in a house near Aslam. Mr. Hadi tried to earn money driving a motorbike taxi, and by foraging for wood to sell at the market.

But it wasn't enough, and when he tried to go home, the Houthi soldiers told him the area was a military zone. Their diet was reduced to bread, tea and halas, the vine that grew locally. His wife was four months pregnant with their second child.

Mr. Hadi wasn't looking for pity; many people were in similar trouble, he said. "I'd do anything to make some money," he said. "The situation is so hard."

At a junction in the road, the couple stepped out, offered thanks and began to walk away. Fumbling in my pocket, I called them back.

I pulled out a wad of Yemeni notes - about $15 worth - and pressed it into his hand. It seemed so futile, in the greater scheme of things. What could it buy them? A few days respite, if even that?

Mr. Hadi accepted the money with a gracious smile. As we drove off I saw the couple amble down a dusty road, toward their shelter, their ailing son held tight.

A version of this article appears in print on , on Page A4 of the New York edition with the headline: Contrast in Crushed State Presents Journalists With Ethical Dilemma. Order Reprints | Today's Paper | Subscribe

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
In Yemen, Lavish Meals for Few, Starvation for Many and a Dilemma for Reporters

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Yemen Dispatch SANA, Yemen - At a restaurant in the Yemeni capital, Sana, a waiter brought bowls of slow-cooked lamb served with mounds of rice. For dessert there was kunafa, the classic Arab dish of golden brown pastry filled with cheese.

# data[].attributes.body
Tough ethics discussion

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Yemen Dispatch

Image

A woman in the poor mountain village of Al Juberia, Yemen. Credit Credit Tyler Hicks/The New York Times

SANA, Yemen - At a restaurant in the Yemeni capital, Sana, a waiter brought bowls of slow-cooked lamb served with mounds of rice. For dessert there was kunafa, the classic Arab dish of golden brown pastry filled with cheese.

An hour later I was back at work, in a hushed hospital ward filled with malnourished children with skeletal faces, hanging between life and death for want of money and a good meal.

If that juxtaposition strikes you as jarring, even distasteful, it felt that way to me, too.

Crisis zones are often places of stark contrast, but in Yemen the gulf is particularly uncomfortable. The problem isn't a lack of food; it's that few people can afford to buy what food is available.

Years of blockades, bombs and soaring inflation have crushed the economy. A crushed state means there is no safety net.

As a result, beggars congregate outside supermarkets filled with goods; markets are filled with produce in towns where the hungry eat boiled leaves; and restaurants selling rich food are a few hundred yards from hunger wards filled with desperation, pain and death.

For a reporter, that brings a dilemma. Journalists travel with bundles of hard currency, usually dollars, to pay for hotels, transport and translation. A small fraction of that cash might go a long way for a starving family. Should I pause, put down my notebook and offer to help?

It's a question some readers asked after we published a recent article on Yemen's looming famine.

Many were touched by a powerful photograph by Tyler Hicks of Amal Hussain, an emaciated 7-year-old girl whose haunting stare brought the war's human cost into shocking focus.

And many were devastated to learn that, soon after we left, Amal's mother brought her back to the shabby refugee camp they call home, where she died a few days later.

Image

Amal Hussain, who died at age 7 from malnutrition soon after this photograph was taken. Credit Tyler Hicks/The New York Times

Some, in their anguish, turned the focus back on us.

Why didn't we do something to save Amal's life, they wanted to know. Did we just take the photo, conduct the interview and move on? Couldn't we have somehow ensured that her family would get help?

"You can take the picture AND provide assistance," one woman said on Twitter. "One doesn't rule out the other."

The questions resonated. Reporters are trained to bear witness; aid workers and doctors have the job of helping people.

Donating money, or other forms of assistance, can be fraught with ethical, moral and practical complications. Is it fair to single out one person or family for help? What if they embellish their story for the next foreigner who comes along, thinking they could get more money?

Plus, we have a job to do.

Doctors show us around, and sometimes we end up acting like them - examining stick-like limbs and flaccid skin with clinical detachment; tabulating figures about weight and age; listening as families recount their tragedies with amazing calm. The prospect of death is discussed. We nod sagely, make a note, move on.

But while we may try to mimic a stone, we are not stones, and every day in Yemen someone told me something that made a lump rise in my throat.

Usually it was a mundane detail, like the lack of a few dollars to take a dying child to the hospital. Yemen, you realize, is a country where people are dying for lack of a taxi fare.

Yemenis have to navigate such terrain, too.

While some are dying, others are getting on with living. One night we returned to our hotel in Hajjah, a town ringed by rocky ridges in a province that has been pummeled by Saudi airstrikes. Lying in bed, I was startled by a loud bang then a burst of light that filled the sky - not a bomb, but fireworks.

Since the start of the war, the rate of marriage in Yemen has gone up. And so, in this town where malnourished infants were perishing at the city hospital, others were dancing and celebrating through the night.

But the surge in weddings, it turned out, was a survival mechanism.

Across the social spectrum, Yemenis are sliding down the poverty ladder. Where once a mother bought a sack of rice to feed her family, now she can afford only a small bag. The hand of a daughter in marriage brings a bride price, and so weddings can be a source of income for stretched families.

Disturbingly, many of the brides are children. According to Unicef, two-thirds of Yemeni girls are married before the age of 18, up from 50 percent before the war.

As we crossed Yemen - from the battle-scarred port of Hudaydah to the Houthi-held mountains - on a bumpy 900-mile journey, we saw scenes of heartbreaking suffering that unfolded against a backdrop of spectacular mountains, and customs that stubbornly endure despite everything.

Every day, town centers bustled with men buying khat, the narcotic leaf beloved by Yemenis. The khat bazaars are a social event. Men, some with guns over their shoulders, gather to trade news, meet friends and prepare for the afternoon chew.

Women in black cloaks flitted between them; in one place, a loud argument erupted into fisticuffs. Even as starvation bites, some are reluctant to cut back on their habit.

In one health clinic, Ibrahim Junaid, a worried father standing over his ailing 5-month-old son, was chewing a lump of khat that left a green stain on his teeth and lips.

Mr. Junaid was 60; his wife, 25, stood silently by his side. The nurses wrapped the boy in a gold foil blanket to keep him warm.

Mr. Junaid regretted that his son hadn't enough to eat, adding that he had a lot of mouths to feed; he had married twice, and fathered 13 children.

The value of practices like chewing khat may be hard to understand in such turbulent times. But for men like Mr. Junaid, it is an integral part of their day. And it is a mark of the resilience of an ancient society, one of the oldest civilizations of the Middle East.

"People say Yemen is in a state of chaos, but it's not," said Thierry Durand, an aid worker who has worked in Yemen since the 1980s, and now runs a Doctors Without Borders hospital in Mocha. "There is still structure."

"You can't put it in three lines in your paper or describe it in three minutes on TV," he continued. "This country is structured by family, tribe, traditions - and despite everything, those structures are still there, and they are strong."

Still, Yemeni society is being ravaged by war. Airstrikes by the Saudi-led coalition, aided by American bombs, have killed thousands of civilians, and displaced many more. But for most Yemenis, war strikes their lives in quieter, more insidious ways.

Bombs blow up bridges or factories, killing jobs, causing the currency to crumble and prices to soar, and forcing families to abstain from meat, then vegetables. Soon, they are dependent on international food aid or, in the worst cases, resort to meals of boiled leaves.

Small but vital things, like a cab fare, become unattainable.

As we drove away from the small hospital in Aslam, where Amal Hussain was being treated, we passed a young couple hitching a ride on the side of the road. They were holding a small infant. We stopped and offered them a ride.

They squeezed into the passenger seat - the father, Khalil Hadi, enveloped by the black cloak of his wife, Hanna, who held their fragile 9-month-old son, Wejdan, who had just been released from the malnutrition ward.

Theirs was a typical story. Their home near the Saudi border had been bombed, so they rented a room in a house near Aslam. Mr. Hadi tried to earn money driving a motorbike taxi, and by foraging for wood to sell at the market.

But it wasn't enough, and when he tried to go home, the Houthi soldiers told him the area was a military zone. Their diet was reduced to bread, tea and halas, the vine that grew locally. His wife was four months pregnant with their second child.

Mr. Hadi wasn't looking for pity; many people were in similar trouble, he said. "I'd do anything to make some money," he said. "The situation is so hard."

At a junction in the road, the couple stepped out, offered thanks and began to walk away. Fumbling in my pocket, I called them back.

I pulled out a wad of Yemeni notes - about $15 worth - and pressed it into his hand. It seemed so futile, in the greater scheme of things. What could it buy them? A few days respite, if even that?

Mr. Hadi accepted the money with a gracious smile. As we drove off I saw the couple amble down a dusty road, toward their shelter, their ailing son held tight.

A version of this article appears in print on , on Page A4 of the New York edition with the headline: Contrast in Crushed State Presents Journalists With Ethical Dilemma. Order Reprints | Today's Paper | Subscribe

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
In Yemen, Lavish Meals for Few, Starvation for Many and a Dilemma for Reporters

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Yemen Dispatch SANA, Yemen - At a restaurant in the Yemeni capital, Sana, a waiter brought bowls of slow-cooked lamb served with mounds of rice. For dessert there was kunafa, the classic Arab dish of golden brown pastry filled with cheese.