
Another person charged in connection to Feeding Our Future fraud investigation
New indictment in the Feeding our Future fraud scheme
New indictment in the Feeding our Future fraud scheme
Another person has been charged in federal court tied to the largest pandemic fraud scheme in the country.
In an FBI agent's 23-page affidavit, investigators say Hibo Daar used a Gmail account to carry out wire fraud in submitting falsified business records to Feeding Our Future.
Prosecutors say because there were no Google servers in Minnesota, that means the fraud traveled across state lines. They also found evidence of outlandish numbers on their invoices.
According to court documents, Daar's food site, Northside Wellness Center, claimed to serve 52,000 meals in the month of January 2021.
Prosecutors say by April that same year, they claimed to serve 40,000 meals every week. Another vendor invoice submitted by Northside Wellness claimed they bought 3,000 gallons of milk in a single month.
Last week, there was another raid at New Vision Foundation. Court documents say the nonprofit claimed to serve thousands of meals to children daily in St. Paul and Waite Park.
Neighboring business owners told investigators they didn't see kids at the locations.
There are no charges tied to that Saint Paul raid at this time.
44 defendants have pleaded guilty or been convicted in the Justice Department's Feeding Our Future investigation, which includes Feeding Our Future founder Aimee Bock.
Bock's appeal remains ongoing.
In all, the scheme diverted $250 million in federal funds during a time when the rules were relaxed in order to keep the U.S. economy running.
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Online school lacked special education supports Before Orlando Youth Academy and Florida's other commitment centers adopted virtual learning in July 2024, Cayden's main source of stress was the other students. They antagonized Cayden until he exploded. Therapists and staff coached him to avoid these situations. School wasn't a source of stress or conflict. Four teachers from the local schools came to their portable classroom and lectured students ages 12 to 18 from the front of the room. Cayden came to the program midway through what should have been his seventh grade year. But after assessing him, the teachers placed Cayden in sixth grade. When the state adopted virtual schooling, it was partly trying to meet the needs of students across different ages and abilities. But Cayden felt some of the new classes were too advanced, and he didn't receive help he needed to do the work. The complaints from other Florida detainees are similar. 'My zoom teachers they never email me back or try to help me with my work. It's like they think we're normal kids," one youth wrote in a letter to Florida lawmakers. "Half of us don't even know what we're looking at." Under Cayden's special education plan, which federal law requires detention center schools to follow, he's entitled to receive assistance reading long texts. But he didn't receive it after the virtual school started. Florida Virtual School wouldn't comment on Cayden's case, citing privacy concerns. Within their school for students in long-term confinement, 'every student with a disability receives specially designed instruction, support, and accommodations comparable to those listed in the student's Individualized Education Plan (IEP)," says Robin Winder, chief academic officer of Florida Virtual School. The instructor assigned to help Cayden and more than a dozen other students with their online work was overwhelmed by the students' needs, Cayden says. Three different people held that job during the nine months he attended virtual school inside Orlando Youth Academy. When Cayden threw the desk out of frustration with the new online learning program, he received a 'level freeze' of three to five days, essentially extending his time at the residential commitment center. It's easy to tumble into 'dead time' Internal documents obtained by The Associated Press, plus interviews with parents, staff and outside specialists, show staff have recommended or given level freezes when students have broken laptops, refused to log into Zoom and even sent an email to ask for help initiating an online class. And when students don't participate in virtual school, the department's written protocol calls for taking away points they earn toward getting out. 'Students who have their heads down will be prompted by the teacher no more than two times to sit up and participate,' reads the Classroom Behavior Management Plan for Florida's juvenile justice schools. The first time Xavier Nicoll, 15, broke a laptop at his residential commitment center in Miami, it was because an online teacher wouldn't respond to his questions, according to his grandmother, Julie, who has raised him. He was arrested and sent to a different detention center to face charges. The three weeks he spent there didn't count toward his overall sentence because he can't receive 'treatment' there. Detainees call it 'dead time.' Once back at the residential center, he broke another laptop, his grandmother says, because a teen dared him to. Back he went to county detention and court for more dead time. Then, in January, when the in-person class supervisor wouldn't help him get into a locked online assignment, he broke a third, says Julie Nicoll. Xavier was initially meant to be held for six to nine months after breaking into a vape store. He's now on track to be confined at least 28 months. He's grown at least five inches in detention — and gone through puberty. Yet in school, Nicoll said in April, he was making no progress. 'He went in as an eighth grader and is still an eighth grader — and failing,' Nicoll said. Xavier's March report card showed he was earning a 34% in Civics and Career Planning, 12% in Pre-Algebra, 13% in Comprehensive Science and 58% in Language Arts. Nicoll has complained that her grandson, who has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, or ADHD, hasn't been receiving special education services. The Department of Juvenile Justice and Florida Virtual School have canceled multiple meetings to discuss his education plan because Xavier keeps getting arrested and sent for dead time. 'He's trapped,' says Nicoll. 'No matter what we do, we can't seem to get him out.' Trouble rejoining the community? Nicoll and her husband have spent more than $20,000 in legal fees trying to win his release. They argue untreated brain inflammation due to mold exposure in detention, plus his disability, make it impossible for him to control his frustration during online school. In May, Xavier was arrested a fourth time. After turning in an assignment, he realized he'd made a mistake and asked the in-class supervisor to return it. The supervisor wouldn't give back his work, and he broke another laptop. Xavier pleaded guilty in August to two felonies for breaking laptops. 'They're setting him up to go into the community a failure," said Nicoll. It's unclear how many students are getting in trouble or extending their time because of behavior during virtual school. Arrests inside residential centers increased slightly in the first nine months after the department adopted virtual school, compared with the same period during the previous year. An analysis of publicly available data shows staff use of verbal and physical interventions has also risen slightly, to 2.4 physical or verbal interventions per 100 days from 1.8 interventions the previous year. The total number of youth in Florida's residential commitment centers increased to 1,388 in June, the latest data reported by the state, up 177 since July 2024, when the department adopted virtual instruction. That could indicate detainees are staying in confinement longer. 'Correlation does not equal causation," responded Amanda Slama, a Department of Juvenile Justice spokeswoman. "Other contributing factors could explain an increase in arrests if there is one.' Since December, the department has ignored or refused AP requests to visit juvenile confinement, speak to officials and release anonymized exit documents for students leaving commitment centers. Not all students are getting in trouble during online schooling, but that doesn't mean they're learning. Jalen Wilkinson, 17, received punishment during detention for fighting, but his father was unaware of punishment related to school. But when school went online in July 2024, Jalen started complaining that there weren't enough adults to help students with the virtual program. School, he says, is basically free time. Jalen has been especially frustrated that he couldn't complete his GED while confined — even though Florida Virtual School leaders say they've made it easier for detainees to take the exam. He was released in July. His father, John Terry, worries the time locked up was a waste and Jalen will struggle to re-enter high school and graduate. 'There's no rehabilitation whatsoever." Cayden is still trying to restart school In March, shackled with an ankle monitor, Cayden Gillespie finally left Orlando Youth Academy. The six to nine months his case manager predicted turned into 15. Between that and the 'dead time' waiting for a residential center bed, he was detained 19 months. Through therapy at the residential center, Cayden learned how to recognize his anger building and to take a break. His parents say the family therapy helped them better understand Cayden's needs and helped them all communicate. 'But the school part," Robyn Gillespie says, "that was a disaster.' Gillespie, her husband and Cayden are still trying to understand the consequences of going so long without proper schooling. Initially, they thought he'd go to the local public middle school, but the school said, at 15, he's too old. This spring, they tried to sign him up for Florida Virtual School, the same program he did in custody. Indeed, this was one of the arguments the state made for using virtual school inside confinement. But Robyn Gillespie says Florida Virtual told them he couldn't join so late in the year. Asked about Cayden's case, Florida Virtual said all students 'released from a facility receive one-on-one support from an FLVS transition specialist.' But Cayden's family said they were never offered transition help or told how he could continue where he left off in detention. The best option, they've been told by the local school district, is a charter school, where he can make up coursework quickly. 'That's the kind of place where they dismiss you if you don't show up on time,' says Robyn Gillespie. 'And there's no transportation. I'm just not sure that's going to work well for our family.' The terms of Cayden's probation require him to attend school or face confinement again. He starts at the charter school later this month. Says Gillespie: 'He has to be in school.' ___ The Associated Press receives support from the Public Welfare Foundation for reporting focused on criminal justice, and AP's education coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP's standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at Bianca Vázquez Toness, The Associated Press Error in retrieving data Sign in to access your portfolio Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data

Associated Press
12 minutes ago
- Associated Press
Takeaways from AP's investigation into online school for incarcerated teens
GAINESVILLE, Fla. (AP) — No matter the offense, states must educate students in juvenile detention. It's a complicated challenge, no doubt — and success stories are scarce. In Florida, where more than 1,000 students are in long-term confinement, the state last year put those kids' schooling online. That's despite strong evidence that online learning failed many kids during the pandemic. The state juvenile justice system contracted with the Florida Virtual School, one of the nation's oldest and largest online learning systems. State leaders were hoping Florida Virtual School would bring more rigorous, uniform standards across their juvenile justice classrooms. When students left detention, the theory went, they could have the option of continuing in the online school until graduation. But an AP investigation showed the online learning has been disastrous. Not only are students struggling to learn, but their frustration with virtual school also leads them to get into more trouble — thus extending their stay in juvenile detention. Here are key takeaways from the investigation. Detained students say they're getting little support with online school In interviews, students describe difficulty understanding their online schoolwork. In embracing Florida Virtual School, the residential commitment centers stopped providing in-person teachers for each subject, relying instead on the online faculty. The adults left in classrooms with detainees are largely serving as supervisors, and students say they rarely can answer their questions or offer assistance. Students also report difficulty getting help from the online teachers. A dozen letters from incarcerated students, written to lawmakers and obtained by The Associated Press, describe online schoolwork that's hard to access or understand — with little support from staff. 'Dear Law maker, I really be trying to do my work so I won't be getting in trouble but I don't be understanding the work,' wrote one student. 'They don't really hands on help me.' Wrote another: 'My zoom teachers they never email me back or try to help me with my work. It's like they think we're normal kids. Half of us don't even know what we're looking at.' Frustration with school has led to outbursts — adding to students' time in custody When students misbehave in long-term confinement, their stays can be extended. At the low end is a 'level freeze,' when a student can't make progress toward release for a few days. For more serious offenses, students are sent back to county detention centers to face new charges. The weeks they spend there are called 'dead time,' because they can't count toward their overall sentence. And since Florida adopted online school in its residential commitment centers, students' frustration with their learning has led to longer stays. One teen described having trouble passing an online pre-algebra test. The adult supervising the classroom couldn't help him. Frustrated, he threw his desk against the wall. He received a 'level freeze' of three to five days, essentially extending his time at the residential commitment center. Another teen has broken three laptops, his grandmother says — two of them in frustration with not receiving help with online school. Each offense has added to his time in confinement. He initially was sentenced to six to nine months for breaking into a vape store, but now is on track to be locked up at least 28 months. The total number of youth in Florida's residential commitment centers increased to 1,388 in June, the latest data reported by the state, up 177 since July 2024, when the department adopted virtual instruction. That could indicate detainees are staying in confinement longer. 'Correlation does not equal causation,' responded Amanda Slama, a Department of Juvenile Justice spokeswoman. Going back to school after leaving detention is tricky One of the arguments Florida made for using online schooling was that students could continue their studies at Florida Virtual School after leaving detention, when many struggle to re-enter their local public schools. That's not as easy as it seems. One student in AP's investigation was refused entry to his local middle school; officials said he was too old to enroll. When his parents tried to sign up for Florida Virtual, they were told they couldn't sign up so late in the school year. Florida Virtual leaders say they provide a transition specialist for each student who leaves residential commitment to help them find a school. But this family says they were never offered this help. No one told them about a special version of Florida Virtual that would have allowed the student to pick up where he left off in detention. ____ The Associated Press receives support from the Public Welfare Foundation for reporting focused on criminal justice, and AP's education coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP's standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at