Given a paragraph, generate a claim that is supported by the given paragraph. 1) The claim must contain information from within the paragraph. 2) A sentence within the paragraph can be used as a claim. 3) The claim should not have contradictions within the paragraph. 4) The claim should be at most one sentence long.

[Q]: Exploring online was easy, with hashtags like #scars, #hurt and #brokeninside. Nothing made sense back then, but Theo absorbed what he saw on websites like a religion. All he could focus on was how the exterior he was born with — that of a girl — didn’t look or feel right. That was six years ago, when he had another name and a different gender. Back then, Theo felt that his body was rebelling in disturbing ways. He developed breasts and got his period. He felt like a boy, but every month, the cramps reminded him of reality. He became a child at war with his body. He wasn’t aware of words like gender dysphoria or transgender; those would come later. So would the national debates, the furor over bathrooms, and discussions of how to help children who didn’t feel right in their own skin. “When you’re 10 years old, you really shouldn’t be worried about who you are,” Theo would say years later, in a moment of reflection. “You shouldn’t be having that existential question when you’re in fifth grade. You should be worried about homework and the fifth-grade dance coming up.” He knew he was different from other kids in class. One day in the girls’ bathroom at his South Florida elementary school, Theo made the first of many gouges in his arm, using a paperclip. Pricks of blood bloomed on his fair skin. A teacher and a school nurse whisked Theo to safety. Theo’s mother, Lori Ramos, got the call from the principal. Her child was in the hospital. Ramos burst into the ER: Was it a fall, a fight, a shooting? “What’s going on here?” Ramos demanded of doctors and school staff. The answers were confusing: Her child had asked a teacher to call her by a different name, use different pronouns. Her child didn’t feel normal and wanted to be a boy. Ramos was bewildered — she saw no prior clues her child felt this way. And she was no stranger to transgender, gay, lesbian and bisexual issues — she worked in a clinic for HIV patients. When she’d given birth in 2001, in a hot tub on the family’s back porch in a Florida suburb an hour south of glitzy Miami Beach, she was thrilled. “I had my older son, and I had my girl, and my family was complete,” Ramos said. Her baby. Her “sunshine girl.” One who was no longer filled with light. Theo was involuntarily committed for 72 hours so doctors could determine whether he was a danger to himself or others. Soon, therapists and doctors had a diagnosis: gender dysphoria, a conflict between a person’s physical or assigned gender and the gender with which they identify. But a diagnosis didn’t solve Theo’s problems or make him feel better. When he tried to look like a boy, everyone at school noticed. His mother was accepting; his father wasn’t. He threatened to disown Theo. Theo again turned to the internet. He started cutting around his thighs and hips — his “problem areas.” When Theo saw thin kids online, he looked at his own baby fat and, once again, didn’t fit in. He wouldn’t eat for days, or he’d force himself to throw up. Cutting and vomiting weren’t painful, not exactly. They were more of a stress release, a way to match physical pain to what he felt inside: “I just know that it isn’t right, that the body I have isn’t supposed to be this way.” Small aggressions at school led to outright bullying. Other kids asked what was in Theo’s pants, if he had a penis, if he could show them. Theo started missing school. A therapist diagnosed depression and anxiety disorder. If only Theo could become a boy through hormone therapy — that, he thought, would solve his problems. “It’s just like every time I’m misgendered it feels like a wrench clamping around my heart and it slowly grows tighter and tighter,” he explained. “Being addressed as female or identifying as female never felt right to me; it always gave me this acute sense of discomfort and pain.” Hormone therapy for transgender children is a recent, controversial practice. It hasn’t been studied much. The concept that children can be transgender has been discussed in the open only recently; previously, it was something to be hidden, squashed and ignored. About 150,000 teenagers in the U.S. identify as transgender, according to a 2017 study by the Williams Institute at UCLA’s School of Law. About 1.4 million U.S. adults identify as transgender. Medical professionals have come up with protocols for children and teens. They recommend that some kids with gender dysphoria essentially pause puberty with hormone blockers until they’re certain they want to live as a different gender. But the child must be prepubescent. It was too late when Theo and his parents learned about the option. Theo could take testosterone, but rigorous counseling sessions were recommended first. This annoyed Theo: Why not become a boy right away? Experts say impatience is common: Transgender children want to transition, and waiting is frustrating. Even under regular circumstances, teens and patience aren’t usually mentioned in the same sentence. Doctors say going slow when treating trans teens is essential for physical and emotional well-being, and note that if a teen’s feelings last until age 16, the desires are probably permanent. Theo insisted testosterone could bring peace with his body: “If I could just start T therapy, I would know I was on the way to being who I’m supposed to be.” His parents, though, worried about the effects on their growing child. Theo wanted testosterone, but his anxiety sometimes made him question his desires. It became a regular topic of conversation between mother and son. “I’m nervous,” Theo said in the spring of 2016. He was 14. “What if I do change my mind?” “Well, what if you do?” asked his mother. “I can always stop,” Theo said. Ramos shook her head. “The changes are permanent.” ____ EDITOR’S NOTE: The Associated Press followed Theo Ramos for more than a year as he grappled with his gender dysphoria. This is the first installment of a three-part story. PART ONE: As a child grappling with gender dysphoria, Theo Ramos found himself at war with his body. PART TWO, coming Tuesday: Living with a transitioning transgender child “is anything but a straight line,” as his mom says. PART THREE, coming Wednesday: Visibility of transgender issues is at a high, but all the talk in the world doesn’t make life any easier as a gender-fluid or transitioning kid. ____ Follow Tamara Lush on Twitter at https://twitter.com/tamaralush .
[A]: Trans teen’s war with his body started when he was just 10.


[Q]: Navajo President Jonathan Nez made the announcement after a spike in deaths that he attributed to shifting traffic patterns after the city of Gallup recently shut down to outside visitors. That lockdown in northwestern New Mexico has since ended. On the Navajo Nation, residents will face citations, with potential fines and jail time, if they leave their homes during the lockdown, which starts Friday night and ends Monday around dawn. Nez urged people to listen and not pack their bags to head out of town during the lockdown. “Stay home, that’s the bottom line. There’s nothing wrong with staying home and taking care of your home, taking care of your family members,” a frustrated Nez said Thursday. “We need to be able to recognize that what you do affects everybody.” While the state of Arizona has loosened its restrictions on residents and businesses, the Navajo Nation has clamped down. The tribe already has daily nighttime curfews and requires people to wear masks when out in public. Government offices are closed or have limited services. The tribe’s stay-at-home order has been extended to June 7, while Arizona’s expired Friday. As of Friday, the tribe reported 127 deaths and 3,740 positive coronavirus cases since it first began tracking the figures. More than 500 people have recovered, tribal health officials said. There were no new deaths reported on Friday. Loretta Christensen, the chief medical officer for the Navajo-area Indian Health Service, said the reservation’s three largest hospitals hit capacity last week — in line with expected predictions — and a significant number of patients were transferred off the reservation. “We’re still getting cases across the area, but not at the velocity we did before,” she said in a call with reporters Thursday. People who have tested positive but no longer need to be hospitalized are being encouraged to stay in one of three isolation centers set up in basketball gyms on and off the reservation to protect their families. Isolation tents also are available for those who would rather not leave their property, Christensen said. For most people, the new coronavirus causes mild or moderate symptoms, such as fever and cough that clear up in two to three weeks. For some, especially older adults and people with existing health problems, it can cause more severe illness, including pneumonia, and death. McKinley County, which includes Gallup, had been the hot spot on the reservation because of a recent outbreak at a detox center. Apache County in Arizona surpassed it with the most COVID-19 cases on the reservation, according to the Thursday figures. Apache County had 948 positive cases, while McKinley County had 928, tribal officials said. Navajo County in Arizona had 757 cases, and San Juan County in New Mexico had 428. Six other counties in Arizona, New Mexico and Utah had smaller numbers. The Navajo Nation’s total cases include 99 that previously weren’t included because they took longer than usual to verify. Tribal officials also cited jurisdictional challenges.
[A]: Navajo Nation residents to be under strictest lockdown yet.


[Q]: People participate in a YogaWorks class in Santa Monica, California in this handout picture taken early 2009. REUTERS/Handout A study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association on Tuesday found that middle-aged women need to get at least an hour a day of moderate exercise if they hope to ward off the creep of extra pounds that comes with aging. “Time is a four-letter word,” said Eva Lazarra, 48, a pharmacist at Loyola University Medical Center in Maywood, Illinois, who was taking a break from work to lift weights at the facility’s fitness center. “In a realistic world of a working mom with a family, it can be difficult. I’ve done my best,” said Lazarra. “I have done marathons. I have done triathlons. Unfortunately, we have to start looking at prevention, and that being part of our daily life.”   President Barack Obama and first lady Michelle Obama are already waging a war on childhood obesity. It may take a similar push in adults to help them avoid the health consequences of obesity such as heart attacks, strokes and diabetes. Already, two-thirds of U.S. adults and nearly one in three children are overweight or obese — a condition that increases their risk for diabetes, heart disease and other chronic illnesses. The United States spends nearly $150 billion a year on obesity and related complications — twice what it cost in 1998 and more than every cancer cost put together. Many experts, including the independent and influential Institute of Medicine, have said it will take policy changes at all levels of government to help Americans exercise more — by creating bicycle paths, reducing crime in rough neighborhoods and building more public transport. Dr. Mary Tillema, 42, a neonatologist at the medical center, said an hour a day of moderate exercise will be tough. “I think that’s a lot to ask of the typical person. If I don’t watch what I eat, I gain, even though I try to consistently exercise.”   Tillema works out three to four days a week, with a routine that includes 35 minutes of cardiovascular exercise and about a half hour of weight training. “I’d like to think that I can get away with less, but I can’t because I see the weight start to creep up and I don’t feel as good. But I certainly don’t get an hour a day,” she said. Sheila Anderson, 50, of Berwyn, Illinois, works out at the fitness center three to four times a week, doing 45 minutes of cardiovascular training and a couple of hours a week of weight training. “Does it strike me as too much?” she said of the finding. “Maybe. It sure is hard to fit in an hour each day. I could not come to the gym seven days a week,” she said.
[A]:
Hour of exercise may be too much for busy U.S. women.