Commentary

The biggest story of the year — the story we should all be paying attention to — is the increasing power of artificial intelligence. Computer code can write itself, chatbots can generate academic papers, and, with a few keystrokes, a website can produce an image worthy to be framed on any wall. Everywhere we turn, AI is outputting text and images that mimic (and often surpass) humans’ abilities. There’s so much to be concerned about in these developments, especially in the realms of plagiarism and labor replacement, with artists and writers particularly worried about their job prospects drowning in the infinite sea of AI-generated graphics and essays. However, after taking stock of AI’s current limitations, I don’t think that artists and other creatives are in danger of extinction anytime soon.

I stood at the corner of Eager and Aisquith to regard the burned-and-broken steeple of a once-stunning East Baltimore church. I saw in the gaping wound the past and present — the decades of white flight from the old neighborhood, the diminished presence of the Catholic Church in the city and the loss of faith generally across the land. This mashup of history came from the gray sky over Aisquith Street, in the place where the steeple cracked apart in a fire caused by lightning in March 2020. No one has come to rebuild the magnificent steeple. Next door is the Institute of Notre Dame, founded in 1847, the Catholic girls school that closed a couple of months after the fire.

How depressing it was as someone who loves the Chesapeake Bay to see David Kelsey’s letter regarding the dying Patuxent River, juxtaposed against the Metro section article “Maryland Democrats have long to-do list” [both Jan. 11]. The Patuxent, located entirely within the state of Maryland, is one of many tributaries to the Chesapeake Bay. We can’t blame the utter failure to clean up the bay on any other state or entity — this river’s decay is a Maryland problem, 100 percent.

A photograph now part of collections at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture and various other museums and galleries shows Martin Luther King with his outstretched right arm being grasped by Black women who pressed alongside his open car. The image was captured in Baltimore by photographer Leonard Freed, who became known for his coverage of the civil rights movement.

When I moved my family back to my native Baltimore City from West Palm Beach, Florida, in 2020, a lot of horrified people reacted as if I was building a house directly on the set of “The Wire.” Still, I was resolute in my choice, largely because I was unhappy with Florida’s response to COVID-19, and thought Maryland’s looked more solid. Nowhere has that response been more impressive than in the schools. When my son went back to in-person learning in 2021, I was relieved by the district’s mask mandates and weekly testing.

Political tides have shifted drastically over the past 10 years in Maryland politics. One of the major shifts has been the increased viability of progressive and more left-leaning policies. This shift is part of a national trend and is often tied to this notion of “wokeness.” Woke has become a caricature of aspects of leftist (mostly social media) discourse used to smear those of us who are advocating more radical politics. What has emerged is what I am calling the woke straw man argument.

Yet again, Marylanders find themselves amid a winter of spiking COVID-19, influenza and RSV cases and scarce hospital beds — all while employees face mounting pressures to return to the office. It’s a national problem, but without federal safeguards, workplace protections are drastically uneven from state to state. Many Maryland workers have had no protection against retaliation for seeking to avoid COVID exposure, or exposure to other respiratory illnesses, caring for sick children or family members or raising concerns about workplace COVID safety. With a new governor and legislative session kicking off next week, our state has an opportunity to right this wrong.