Kalyanaraman becomes latest to leave Maryland Department of Health

Dr. Nilesh Kalyanaraman testified in March on nursing home inspections to the House Health and Government Operations Committee. (Photo by Danielle J. Brown/Maryland Matters)
The deputy secretary of public health services is leaving the Maryland Department of Health this week after two years serving under the Moore Administration and more than a decade in both private and public health services in Maryland, state officials confirmed Monday.
Tuesday will be Dr. Nilesh Kalyanaraman's last day with the department.
'We thank Dr. Kalyanaraman for raising his hand to serve the people of Maryland — especially through the COVID pandemic — as a dedicated champion for public health,' according to a spokesperson for Gov. Wes Moore.
His departure is the latest in a string that began in February, when then-Secretary Laura Herrera Scott left amid several controversies at the department, including oversight issues at Clifton T. Perkins Hospital Center, a high-security hospital that has been riddled with complaints of patient abuse and violence.
Secretary Meena Seshamani, a former top official with the U.S. Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, took the reins of the department in April.
Just last week, Erin McCullen left her position as the department's chief of staff, a position she's held since 2023. McCullen also worked in the department in various positions from 2013 through 2017. Chase Cook also left his job last week as the department's director of communications, following several years in the position.
Former CMS administrator takes helm of controversy-laden health department
As the deputy secretary of public health services, Kalyanaraman has spoken on a wide variety of health and safety issues throughout the years — from heat illnesses and dental health workforce to bird flu threat levels and more.
Before working with the Moore administration, Kalyanaraman served as the health officer for Anne Arundel County from September 2019 through March 2023, leading the county through the COVID-19 pandemic.
'He was a really, really good resource for the issues that we dealt with during COVID,' said Sen. Pam Beidle (D-Anne Arundel), chair of the Senate Finance Committee. 'He was always willing to do a webinar with us and our constituents. I think he did a really good job guiding our county through COVID.'
Before his time in local government, Kalyanaraman served from 2012 to 2019 as the chief health officer for Baltimore-based Health Care for the Homeless, a nonprofit that provides health care and housing support to 10,000 people in the region annually.
He leaves a health department that's trying to pull itself out of a series of controversies and challenges. During the 2025 legislative session, lawmakers grilled Kalyanaraman for answers about one of those controversies — a significant backlog of nursing home annual inspections.
Kalyanaraman argued that the department had been making progress on the backlog of state inspections, but lawmakers remain concerned that some facilities had not received annual inspections for over four years, putting vulnerable senior citizens at risk of inadequate care.
Kalyanaraman declined Monday to comment on his departure.
Neither McCullen nor Cook responded to a request for comment. But McCullen said in a social media post about her departure from the health department that she was 'filled with immense gratitude for the privilege of serving alongside such dedicated public servants.'
'The experience has been invaluable, and I am forever thankful for the opportunity to contribute to the health and well-being of Marylanders alongside some of the best people you will ever meet,' she said.
SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Learn with AIFact CheckingText to SpeechAI Summary

Related Articles

Politico

an hour ago

• Politico

Experience vs. inspiration: New York City mayoral race mirrors national Dem divide

ALBANY, New York — Andrew Cuomo has settled on a closing argument in his quest to win the Democratic nomination to be New York City's next mayor: His top challenger, Zohran Mamdani, is far too inexperienced for the job. It's a perceived vulnerability Cuomo is seizing on in a race otherwise focused on affordability, Mamdani's rhetoric on Israel and the long record of an ex-governor who has been in politics since 1977, when he worked on his father Mario Cuomo's mayoral campaign. Cuomo is zooming in on his own achievements — enshrining same-sex marriage into state law, revamping LaGuardia Airport and his popular televised Covid briefings. Mamdani, in turn, highlights Cuomo's corruption scandals, the sexual misconduct allegations against him — which he denies — and the missteps of his pandemic management. But as polling in the race tightens and Mamdani continues to excite his base, Cuomo is honing in on his 33-year-old chief rival's lack of executive experience. 'It is certainly a microcosm of what we're likely to see over the next few years, and I think you'll see a significant number of midterm primaries have this similar dynamic,' said Jon Paul Lupo, a New York City consultant who is not involved in the mayor's race. 'We're seeing it play out at the DNC with David Hogg and what role he played. There is a group of young and up-and-coming operatives, candidates and — quite frankly — voters that are frustrated with the direction of the party and they're looking for not just change from the party, but a different kind of candidate.' In Mamdani, they have just that. He's not just bringing something new, he's being resoundingly rejected by the establishment: Mike Bloomberg has spent $8.3 million to help Cuomo defeat him, the New York Times editorial board eviscerated him in a piece focused more on his shortcomings than anyone else's attributes, and most city unions lined up behind Cuomo. The race is now as much about youth against political seasoning as it is about the socialist Mamdani versus the moderate Cuomo. Voters throughout the country are frustrated with their current leadership, public displays of anger at events like town halls are increasingly common, and Sen. Chuck Schumer is seeing his worst-ever poll numbers in his home state. Incumbents are unpopular at the moment. And as New York City Mayor Eric Adams sits out the primary to instead run as an independent in the general election, Cuomo is in many ways viewed as the incumbent candidate. 'We have a person running for mayor against me who has been an assemblyman for two terms — five years,' Cuomo, who's 67, said at a rally last week. 'Five staff members who worked for him. New York City — you have 300,000 employees. He's never worked with the City Council, never worked with the Congress, never negotiated things with the labor union, never even dealt with President Trump. Don't tell me he's ready to be mayor of the greatest city on the globe. No way.' Unlike Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez's surprise upset in 2018, in several races for New York's top jobs over the past decade, hype about shifting to a fresh face on the left has fizzled. This year's mayoral race is now the clearest bellwether of whether there might actually be more seismic changes at hand. Do Democratic voters want battle-proven — and battle-scarred — veterans, or are they willing to roll the dice and go with leaders who might take the party in a bold new direction — or flop spectacularly? Experience is Cuomo's 'number one argument,' said Cynthia Nixon, who lost to Cuomo in the 2018 gubernatorial primary and now backs Mamdani. 'It's one thing if you've been in office for a long time and you have a record that you can be proud of. Cuomo has the opposite.' Mamdani's thin governmental record allows for the ultimate test of whether Democrats are willing to move toward energetic fresh faces with minimal experience. He was elected as a true outsider in 2020. Prior to winning office, he had only made two visits to the Capitol, both for housing advocacy. Due to Covid, candidates running that year got far less scrutiny than in any modern New York election — there were no public events, state politics was overshadowed by a presidential race, and the Albany press corps was focused on Cuomo's pandemic briefings. The Zoom-era timing also meant Mamdani didn't engage in the typical bonding and glad-handing with new legislative colleagues. 'There's no equivalent of getting in an elevator with somebody,' he said in a 2021 interview. 'Virtual also creates a lot more of a conduit for tension versus in-person, because you're able to understand the humanity of someone a little bit more than when they're just a little square on the screen.' His promise to legislate with an 'understanding that the status quo has failed us' — and, perhaps, his lack of immersion into the system as a freshman — have kept him an outsider among Albany's Democrats. Mamdani's status on the fringes was highlighted by a bill he introduced in 2023 that would ban New York charities from supporting Israeli settlers. The backlash was swift: Assembly leadership immediately dubbed it a 'non-starter,' a rarity in a legislative body whose leaders usually wait for internal party discussions before weighing in. Twenty-five of his fellow Democrats released a letter condemning the measure as designed to 'antagonize pro-Israel New Yorkers.' The democratic socialist was aware at the time that his break with the tradition of New York politicians offering full-throated support for Israel would indeed antagonize his colleagues — and it's a subject that's continued to lead to tensions, with fellow members quick to point out actions like his failure to endorse a resolution condemning the Holocaust. He characterized the charity bill as an attempt to plant seeds for a longer-term fight. 'The simple act of introducing this legislation [helps] change the calculus,' Mamdani said at the time. But mayors don't get to spend as much time focused on the long haul — if garbage isn't being picked up on time, most New Yorkers won't be too satisfied if City Hall promises a solution in a decade. And when it comes to the type of negotiating a mayor needs to engage in to win approval for their priorities in Albany or the City Council, his record is scant. Mamdami's biggest achievements have come outside the regular legislative process. He played a major role in taxi drivers' successful 2021 push for debt relief. He helped win a pilot program for free bus rides — now a central plank in his mayoral campaign — but kiboshed its renewal when he cast a protest vote against last year's budget, rather than play ball with his colleagues and take the win. He also points to his support for a 2023 law that lets the state build its own green energy plants. 'That's not my legislation. The passage of it is not considered a bill that I have passed,' Mamdani said recently. 'I spent so much of my time fighting for it because I knew that, were we to pass it, we could actually take a real step towards taking on the climate crisis. And I think too often, much of our work in politics is focused on ensuring that you receive credit for the work that you do.' Despite his opinion, his lack of clearly delineated achievements has provided opponents with a ready-made cudgel. Cuomo has hammered Mamdani for passing only three laws in his time as an Assemblymember. That's the 235th highest total since he took office in a Legislature in which 213 members serve at a time. That apparent lack of productivity stems at least in part from the fact that he's a rank-and-file member in a legislative body where more than 100 Democrats want their bills prioritized. 'It's a pretty common experience for many legislators in their first few years in the Assembly or Senate to pass very few bills,' former Assemblymember Dick Gottfried said. Gottfried said assessing a lawmaker through the number of bills they approve isn't a great barometer of how they might perform as an executive: 'Every year in the Legislature, I personally got a lot of bills passed, but you would not have wanted me to be the mayor even of a small village.' But the lack of an in-depth passage record, coupled with the few bills he's authored, means Mamdani doesn't bring many specifics about his policy background for voters to glean. One of the three laws he's responsible for let the Museum of the Moving Image apply for a liquor license. Another allowed people to petition state agencies to hold public hearings. But he didn't come up with that idea — the legislation had been lingering since 1995 and had previously passed the Assembly 14 times under five different sponsors. His third bill, enacted in 2022, tweaked that 2021 law. Then, during the most recent legislative session, he passed a fourth bill — that would bump back the law's expiration date. The passage of the 2022 version of the petitioning law was the only time he's ever engaged in a back-and-forth debate during his time in the Legislature. He hoped the bill would leave 'New Yorkers feeling that they have a place in this government, that their voices are heard,' he said. 'This is, for me, the essence of socialism, which is the extension of democracy from the ballot box to the rest of our society of the ability of each and every person to have control over their own lives.' The remarks did not win over his detractors. 'Labeling this bill the extension of socialism makes me reaffirm my negative vote,' said then-Assemblymember Mike Lawler, his chief sparring partner in the debate. Mamdani has spoken on the floor on a handful of other bills over the years, and often his remarks focused on issues of identity — he voted against the Democrats' 2022 redistricting plan, for example, because it didn't create a new district for his fellow South Asians elsewhere in Queens. He criticized the governor's priorities in the state budget and supported legalized marijuana: 'Smoking or ingesting marijuana may also lead to becoming an elected official,' he said about claims that it's a gateway drug. By and large, Mamdani has remained outside regular power structures in Albany, meaning even those who deal with the Assembly the most can't predict what a Mamdani City Hall might look like. Lobbyists surveyed by POLITICO — including those supportive of causes he appears aligned with, like environmental and criminal justice issues — say they haven't engaged with him much, or even met him at all. His name only appears on Gov. Kathy Hochul's schedules once in the past four years, when attending a dinner joined by 21 members of the Queens delegation. One of the most important questions for any inexperienced executive is how they will fill out their administration. Former Gov. David Paterson, who went from the state Legislature to a high-level executive role — much like Mamdani hopes to — said those decisions can make or break an administration. 'The whole issue is about staff selection,' said Paterson, who's backing Cuomo. 'You may not be the brightest bulb in the chandelier but the other bulbs can work along with you.' Even Mamdani's supporters have emphasized he needs to fill his administration with experienced staff — Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez said she has 'made her expectations of the assemblymember quite clear' in that area. Nothing has tripped up past mayors in New York City more than tensions with the city's vast and complicated bureaucracy — from a sanitation strike during John Lindsay's tenure, to Bill de Blasio's early missteps with snowstorms. It will likely be difficult for somebody like Mamdani to walk into office with the trust of city employees, especially if they lack high-level staff already familiar with the intricacies of the municipal government. 'He'd have to spend a decade building relationships in the city,' said Brandon del Pozo, a Brown University professor and former NYPD deputy inspector. 'You have to have a legislative track record. You'd have to have meetings with the police and the labor unions. You have to do a lot of behind-the-scenes work.' A failure to lay those foundational building blocks means city employees like police officers may be skeptical of Mamdani from the get-go. 'Even though I don't think de Blasio had a great tenure — he still was able to convince people that he knew how New York City ran,' del Pozo said, pointing to the former mayor's time in institutions like the City Council. 'This is one of the most important cities in the world and the biggest and most complex city in the United States. So if you don't have the executive experience, you've got to have something else that really, really makes up for that.' Paterson noted how 'Cuomo described [electing Mamdani] as reckless and dangerous. It certainly would portend that would be the case.' But, he added, 'you just never know' when it comes to succeeding as an executive. 'The one thing he's been in charge of his campaign,' he said. 'That's working: He's in the game.' And nobody — not even the candidates themselves — actually know whether they're experienced enough to be an executive for the first time. 'When I did become governor, it felt that way: 'What am I doing here!?'' Paterson said. — Jeff Coltin contributed reporting

Hamilton Spectator

an hour ago

• Hamilton Spectator

Undocumented students push for right to education, but Alberta noncommittal

EDMONTON - Ariana Zapata's favourite subject in school is social studies. For the 13-year-old in Edmonton, this means lessons on historical societies, colonialism, how worldviews are developed and so on. The eighth grader's own worldview is still being built, but she has pillars in place: family, fight for what you believe in, don't be too trusting and, critically, education is a right. That's why, when Zapata gets home from school every day, she passes on what she learned to her three younger siblings. 'That way when they go back to school, they won't feel behind,' she said in a recent interview. School bells haven't applied to her brother and sisters in two years. They were kicked out of school when officials realized they were undocumented. Zapata is undocumented, too, but said her school hasn't figured that out yet. Alberta isn't unique in denying children without legal residency status from attending public school. Ontario is the only Canadian province or territory that legally requires schools to enrol undocumented children. Zapata and her family, along with a coalition of non-profit advocacy groups, want Alberta to follow in Ontario's footsteps. Samantha Vaux, a social worker with an Edmonton-based group that works with undocumented families, said that by not doing so, Alberta is not fulfilling commitments made by signing the United Nations Convention of the Child in 1999. Originally ratified in 1990, the convention states signatories 'shall' make 'primary education compulsory and available free to all.' 'It's not a privilege, it's a right,' said Vaux, with the Islamic Family and Social Services Association. 'The more those children are kept out of school, the more harmful it is not only to them, (but) to their family, the community, even our society.' There's no dependable estimate for how many undocumented people live in Canada. A briefing note prepared for former federal immigration minister Marc Miller last year said there could be as many as 500,000. Zapata's family came to Canada from Mexico a few years ago and applied for refugee status. All four Zapata children attended school for two years while the family's application was being processed. But when it was denied, so too was their right to attend publicly funded schools. The family decided it wasn't safe to return to Mexico and has stayed in Canada without documentation. Zapata said she feels the need to watch her back on the way to school, given the precariousness of her situation. Dayana Rodriguez knows that feeling, too. Rodriguez, 18, and her family came to Edmonton from Mexico in 2019 and applied for refugee status. Like the Zapatas, Rodriguez and her family were denied, but decided to stay. She attended school until 2022, but stopped after losing her residency status. 'We didn't even get out of the house,' she said of her time out of school. 'You are in your house, four walls. We couldn't even go to the park comfortably. 'It was like being in a jail.' When the Rodriguez family applied again, she returned to school, though she has recently dropped out to start working and support the family, including her two younger siblings. Rodriguez's five-year-old sister was born in Canada, so she might not face enrolment issues when the next school year comes around — but her teen brother might. 'They were also asking for his papers,' Rodriguez said. 'We had to talk to the school and they kind of let him (stay) for a little, but we don't know what's going to happen.' Vaux, who works with an undocumented family from Pakistan with four school-aged kids — all of whom can't enrol — said education is just one aspect of life that's barred to undocumented people in Canada. Public health care isn't an option, nor are jobs protected by labour laws. In May, after Vaux and other advocacy groups spoke at months of meetings, Edmonton Public School trustees voted to ask the province to change the laws to allow undocumented kids to go to school. Education Minister Demetrios Nicolaides hasn't directly answered questions about whether he'd considered making legislative changes, saying only that Alberta strives to 'strike a balance between responsibility to taxpayers and compassion for those arriving to the province.' Since the school board vote, his office denied multiple interview requests over a two-week period. It also didn't answer questions about whether Nicolaides agreed that Alberta isn't living up to its commitment to compulsory education. 'It's important to note that most foreign children are eligible for a funded education in the province,' Nicolaides said in a statement. Vaux said the lack of a clear answer was 'unacceptable.' 'It's literally red tape,' she said. 'Why are children's education stopped because of that?' She said children didn't make the decision to live without documentation, but are being punished as if they did. 'Children shouldn't have to suffer or deal with these adult issues,' Vaux said. 'They didn't ask to be put in those situations.' This report by The Canadian Press was first published June 22, 2025. Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google privacy policy and terms of service apply. Want more of the latest from us? Sign up for more at our newsletter page .

The Hill

2 hours ago

• The Hill

Red states are forcing public schools to go MAGA

In Oklahoma, new social studies standards sound like they were written by loyal followers of President Trump. The standards include teaching high school students about 'discrepancies' in the 2020 presidential election, including discredited theories related to the 'security risks of mail-in balloting, sudden batch dumps, an unforeseen record number of voters, and the unprecedented contradiction of 'bellwether county' trends.' Students will also be asked to 'identify the source of the COVID-19 pandemic from a Chinese lab,' begin learning about the teachings of Jesus in the second grade and the 'ways that individuals can be patriotic' in preschool. After being accepted by the Oklahoma legislature, the new standards have sparked litigation and bitter debate. Oklahoma is by no means alone in remaking public education in hyperpartisan and, in our view, dangerously misguided ways. In an era of extreme political polarization, nothing succeeds like excess. As the pendulum has swung to the right, red state officials — acting under the banner of 'parental rights' and anti-'woke' ideology — have outdone one another in adopting restrictive instructional mandates related to religion, gender, sexuality, race and U.S. history. In 2023, Texas became the first state to permit school districts to use chaplains to counsel students during the school day. This year, the Texas legislature passed a bill allowing school districts to set aside time daily for prayer and religious study. Louisiana and Arkansas passed laws requiring classrooms in every public school to display the Ten Commandments. (On Friday, the conservative Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit ruled that the Louisiana law was unconstitutional.) Kentucky has prohibited instruction on human sexuality and sexually transmitted diseases before fifth grade and barred instruction on gender identity or sexual orientation. Iowa banned instruction on sexuality or sexual orientation before sixth grade and prohibited school libraries from carrying books depicting sex acts. In a backlash to the social justice activism that followed George Floyd's murder in 2020, at least 18 states passed laws banning the teaching of 'critical race theory' and restricting how teachers talk about racism, sexual orientation, gender identity and other 'divisive concepts.' Other 'educational gag orders' prohibit teachers from discussing 'controversial issues of public policy or social affairs.' If such teaching is permitted, the rules require teachers to 'strive to explore such issues from diverse and contending perspectives.' Even though two-thirds of Americans oppose book bans, books 'are disappearing' from K-12 classrooms and libraries across the country in an 'unprecedented flood' driven by 'punitive state laws' and 'pressure campaigns.' Florida has led the way. In what may become a blueprint for federal policy, the state adopted a series of laws, regulations and executive orders that 'privilege some parents' ideological preferences above all others, tie the hands of educators, and limit students' access to information.' Florida has banned the teaching of 'any concept that promotes, advances, or compels individuals to believe discriminatory concepts'; prohibited spending state funds on diversity, equity and inclusion programs; barred classroom discussion of gender identity through third grade; pulled hundreds of books that describe 'sexual conduct' or are deemed age inappropriate from school shelves; and encouraged parents to object to instructional materials they deem immoral or harmful. According to a 2024 Washington Post survey, 38 states have adopted laws either restricting or expanding teaching on race, racism, gender or history. Although some, such as a 2021 Rhode Island law mandating instruction on 'African Heritage and History,' reflect progressives' priorities, fully two-thirds of the laws are restrictive, and 90 percent of those were passed in states that voted for Trump in 2020. Conservatives insist that restrictive laws are necessary to combat 'woke' indoctrination and protect the rights of parents to educate their children in accordance with their values. Liberals argue that 'inclusive curricula' are required to enable all students to thrive. In addition to striking down Louisiana's Ten Commandment's statute, federal judges are considering challenges to many of the other red state instructional mandates. In the past, school districts have usually had wide latitude in instruction, an approach that is more responsive to the educational priorities of local communities than statewide mandates. After all, even the reddest and bluest states have plenty of residents (in places like Austin, Texas and upstate New York) who dissent, often vigorously, from the majority's agenda. The current burst of state regulation is unprecedented, and it is having a profound impact on the education of America's kids. What students are told about the subjects that most divide the country increasingly depends on whether they attend school in a blue state or a red one — almost certainly exacerbating polarization. All this has a dramatic chilling effect on teachers. According to a 2023 survey, 65 percent of teachers have restricted their instruction on 'political and social issues,' twice the number subject to restrictive state laws. For most of American history, one could claim that Newton's Third Law of Motion — for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction — has applied to politics as well. So Americans might expect that ideological extremes in state educational policy will eventually be reversed. But if U.S. institutions do not preserve the norms, practices and principles of democracy, we may discover — when it's too late — that Newton's Third Law no longer applies. Glenn C. Altschuler is the Thomas and Dorothy Litwin Emeritus Professor of American Studies at Cornell University. David Wippman is emeritus president of Hamilton College.