内容摘要：Workers carry cattle dung, used to make natural fertilizer, in Pedavuppudu village, India, Feb. 12, 2024. (AP Photo/Altaf Qadri)

Workers carry cattle dung, used to make natural fertilizer, in Pedavuppudu village, India, Feb. 12, 2024. (AP Photo/Altaf Qadri)

A man pedals his bike along a road in Maracay, Venezuela, Saturday, March 22, 2025. (AP Photo/Cristian Hernandez)Tren de Aragua, meaning Train of Aragua, came together in Venezuela just as the South American country came apart.

In 2013, a crisis was taking hold in the country, as corruption, mismanagement and a drop in crude prices wrecked the oil-dependent economy. Hunger became widespread, grocery store shelves emptied, inflation soared, jobs disappeared and millions fell into poverty.Around the same time, a notorious criminal, Héctor Guerrero, returned to Tocorón to serve time for the murder of a police officer and other convictions.The prison, like others across Venezuela, was badly run, and serious allegations of torture and government corruption abounded. The criminal, nicknamed “Niño Guerrero,” and a few other inmates saw a profitable opportunity, expanding what had been a budding gang.

“Once these prisoners realized they had more weapons and more power than the military force guarding them, they assumed control and administration,” Ronna Rísquez, author of a book on the Tren de Aragua, said.Guerrero and others established an organization within the prison that controlled the inmates through force and extortion. Guards looked the other way or colluded with gang members.

The gang’s largest source of revenue was the weekly fee it charged inmates, which Rísquez said added up to $3.5 million a year. Other funds came from crimes committed inside or outside prison.

Over time, Rísquez said, that turned Tocorón into the gang’s recruitment center and “a kind of city” tailored to the group’s needs, with amenities like a zoo, baseball field, casino and restaurants., the CDC and others. As a result, some school districts have shifted to later start times. Two states — California and Florida — have passed laws that require high schools to start no earlier than 8:30 a.m. But simply telling a teenager to get to bed earlier doesn’t always work, as any parent can attest: They need to be convinced.

That’s why Mansfield City Schools, a district of 3,000 students in north-central Ohio, is staging what it calls “a sleep intervention.”The district’s high school is piloting the new curriculum, “Sleep to Be a Better You,” hoping to improve academic success and reduce chronic absences, when a student misses more than 10% of the school year. The rate of students missing that much class has decreased from 44% in 2021 but is still high at 32%, says Kari Cawrse, the district’s attendance coordinator. Surveys of parents and students highlighted widespread problems with sleep, and an intractable cycle of kids going to bed late, oversleeping, missing the school bus and staying home.

The students in Davis’ classroom shared insights into why it’s hard to get a good night’s sleep. An in-class survey of the 90 students across Davis’ five classes found over 60% use their phone as an alarm clock. Over 50% go to sleep while looking at their phones. Experts have urged parents for years to get phones out of the bedroom at night, but national surveys show most teens keep their mobile phones within reach — andDuring the six-part course, students are asked to keep daily sleep logs for six weeks and rate their mood and energy levels.