New York Magazine political correspondent Olivia Nuzzi has been put on leave by leadership after engaging in a “personal relationship” with “a former subject relevant to the 2024 campaign while she was reporting on the campaign,” the publication announced Thursday night. That subject is allegedly Robert F. Kennedy Jr., according to reporter Oliver Darcy’s Status […]
For most Americans, the start of Donald Trump’s presidential career can be traced to those golden escalators, a 2015 Trump Tower spectacle that previewed much of the racism, lying, and vitriol that would come to define the political era ahead.
It was a campaign kickoff unlike anything that had been witnessed before, still referenced today to deride Trump’s ugly beginnings. “Here’s a 78-year-old billionaire who has not stopped whining about his problems since he rode down his golden escalator nine years ago,” former President Barack Obama said in his speech at the Democratic National Convention.
But what if you were 9 when that happened? What if incessant presidential whining was not only familiar, but perhaps all you’ve seen about America’s political landscape? What if, contrary to the popular slogan of 2016, this is normal?
For first-time voters in the 2024 election—11 by the time the white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, rattled the country—that’s overwhelmingly the case. Yet, for all the familiarity with the politically absurd, it’s precisely this group’s relative youth during some of the most shocking and surreal moments of Trump’s first term that lends itself to the natural question: What parts struck a preteen at the time? Did the terms that rattled in adult brains for years—covfefe, Robert Mueller, Sharpie-gate, deep state—mean anything to a Trump-era kid?
Because a large chunk of my paycheck is earned by paying close attention to these shitstorm news cycles, I was curious what someone whose brain was developing instead of melting made of the 45th president’s time in office.
Put simply: What does an average teen think, remember, and make of Trump? And what would their knowledge, or lack of it, reveal about what the typical adult might miss about the last decade?
We caught up with three teen voters to find out what it means to grow up in the Trump era:
Eve, 18, Hawaii
In a few words, give me a sense of what you know about Donald Trump and how you, as a first-time voter, perceive him.
I was in the fifth grade when the 2016 election happened. I remember our teachers talking to us about the election, usually adding that it was a controversial topic, but none of us really understood why. My teachers would ask us questions like: “How do you feel about this? How do you feel about that?” But I felt like many of those conversations were a copy-and-paste job of what most of our parents were saying at the time.
I’d wonder, “Why did we freak out so much about that if I still go to school, I still do whatever?” I was too young to really see the changes and the effects of it.
For a long time, my political views—if I even had any as a kid—were based on my parents. I wanted to believe the opposite of what they believed. My dad is a Republican; he voted for Trump and will probably do so again this year.
That was a very confusing thing for me, because I would see crazy things about Trump supporters online. But as a kid, I’d look at my dad and know that he was such a nice person.
Like, I love my dad; I’m having dinner with him right now, and he’s, you know, a pretty kind guy. That was pretty confusing. My mom is pretty moderate and wanted to vote for [Robert F. Kennedy] Jr. this election.
How do you think she’ll vote now that RFK Jr. is out of the race?
I think she is going to vote for Trump. I’m pretty upset that Kennedy is out because I wanted to vote for him. I literally have a shirt that says, “Surfers for Kennedy,” on it. I was so excited to vote for someone who wasn’t Donald Trump or Kamala Harris. But now that he’s dropped out, I’m going to vote for Kamala.
Growing up in the age of Trump, how did adults around you speak of the former president?
It depended on where I was at the time. For example, if I went and hung out with my Aunt Jamie and Uncle C.J. in LA for the day, I would hear a very different perspective from what I had normally been around: the Megyn Kelly Show, Dan Bongino, super right-wing podcasts that my parents would listen to.
And then I would hang out with my aunt and uncle, and then they’d be like, those people are crazy. It opened my horizons a lot. My Aunt Jamie and Uncle C.J. have since shaped a lot of my political opinions now because they’re very good at talking to my family about politics without making it into a huge argument.
Now being in Hawaii, that’s also shaped my views a bit. I wouldn’t call Hawaiians anti-America, but you hear a lot of “I’m not voting in this election. I don’t care what happens on the mainland.”
As a kid, what was your typical reaction to this discourse?
It was crazy. It was so confusing. Everyone was talking about how things would be really bad if Trump won or how things would be really bad if Hillary (Clinton) won. I didn’t understand how someone who hadn’t even won yet could have so much influence on what was going on.
But once Trump did win, I saw no difference in my life. At the time, I was a kid growing up in Malibu, [California;] I had a pretty privileged life, right? I saw no difference in anything. And I’d wonder, “Why did we freak out so much about that if I still go to school, I still do whatever?” I was too young to really see the changes and the effects of it.
The only difference I noticed was that people were posting way more on social media.
What were some of your first memories of Trump’s White House?
This is going to be very niche, but when I was in fifth grade, I watched a lot of BuzzFeed videos. And I remember there was this one under their subcategory Ladylike that featured women wearing suits every day for a week. It was some kind of empowerment challenge. I had no clue it was going to feature anything on the election. But I’m watching it and halfway through the video, Trump wins the election at the time, and they did a whole section of these women crying.
I still remember sitting on my bed watching that and being like, “Oh, this might be bad. Like, if all these girls I watch all the time are upset, this might be bad.”
Did you know that Trump was impeached twice?
No, I didn’t know he was twice impeached, but I knew he was impeached. I’d heard about it.
“This is not normal” was a popular phrase during the 2016 election. I’m just curious: If you could choose to live in that supposedly pre-Trump era, do you think you’d want to?
That’s a good question. Honestly, I think anything before Trump would be pretty similar to now. At the end of the day, it’s still a question of whether you’re going to vote Republican or Democratic. There’s typically no real third-party choice. That’s how I kind of feel about this election. Like, I’m definitely going to vote for Kamala, but I’m not necessarily doing a ton of research on her, nor am I going to buy her merch or anything. I just know that it’s a situation where I definitely don’t want Trump to win.
When olds talk about a time in politics before Trump and what was “good” and “decent,” do we sound ancient?
I think maybe a little naive, because what are they really referring to? The time when the president was sleeping with Monica Lewinsky?
Do you think January 6 is one of the events where most people a generation from now will remember where they were when it happened?
Wait, January 6, like the riot, or January 6, when he became president?
The storming of the Capitol.
I actually do remember exactly where I was. I was sitting on a couch watching TV and wondering, “What is going on?” I remember it so vividly, because my dad, a Trump supporter, was even so upset about it. He’s also a police officer, and he’s, like, the No. 1 rule follower ever. I think it’s something people will remember for a long time.
When someone calls Trump dangerous, what does that mean to you, as someone who grew up during the era of Trump?
As I said before, I didn’t notice anything different about Trump in my daily life because I was so young. It’s not like I was paying taxes or anything.
I mean, I wouldn’t want to be alone in a room with him. But I don’t know if I would want to be alone with any male politician.
Are you alluding to the long list of sexual assault allegations against Trump?
Yes.
Are you familiar with any of the Trump kids? And if you are, who do you identify with the most?
I would say his granddaughter who recently spoke at the [Republican National Convention]? Because she’s around my age. Or maybe Barron? He seems more like a fly-under-the-radar type of guy. I remember there was some funny rumor about how he was on Roblox, the online gaming app, but then Melania took it away from him.
Mia, 19, California
In a few words, give me a sense of what you know about Donald Trump and how you, as a first-time voter, perceive him.
I know that he is a convicted felon and he is not a good person, right? Or at least in my opinion. He has said some very blatantly racist things; he has something of a cult following.
Growing up in the age of Trump, how did adults around you speak of the former president?
Oh, my parents were very anti-Trump. It was a lot of turning on the news and they’d say things like, “Oh dang, it’s Trump again.” There was never any praise, more concern that a real leader shouldn’t be acting this way.
I think I was too young to really understand what was so dangerous about Donald Trump.
What was your typical reaction to that discourse?Cringe?
I thought it was actually interesting, and I wanted to learn more about it. Especially because my parents would insist to me that they don’t usually react so strongly. It was a good learning experience, for sure.
What were some of your first memories of Trump’s White House?
Earliest? Well, I remember watching the election between him and Hillary. I woke up the morning Trump was elected and my dad was pissed—like, he was so angry. And I remember thinking, “Oh, this is not a good environment for us.”
When olds talk about a time in politics before Trump and what was “good” and “decent,” do we sound ancient? Naive?
It’s hard to imagine. Maybe not naive, but it does sound like a simpler, more civilized time when you didn’t have to worry about voting for a felon.
We’ve been raised to have certain ideas of what a democracy should be like, rather than, like, just voting for someone who’s not a terrible person. So it’s jarring going from that to this being our first election—and you don’t really have the option to explore the two choices.
Do you think January 6 is one of the events where most people a generation from now will remember where they were when it happened?
I was at home on the couch, and my dad turned on the TV and was like, “You have to watch this.” I definitely think it’ll be remembered years on. Even today, my friends will make jokes, “Where were you on January 6?” It’s such an iconic date.
When someone calls Trump dangerous, what did that mean to you, as someone who grew up during the era of Trump?
I think I was too young to really understand what was so dangerous about Donald Trump. I had heard and known that he was a threat to women’s rights and general equality overall. But I couldn’t have told you why.
Is there anything Trump did as president that you think was good?
I don’t think I could name a single thing. I have family in Ohio who’d say different.
Are you familiar with any of the Trump kids? And if you are, who do you identify with the most?
I’m trying to remember. He has a son, right? And the daughter is older? This is so bad. I don’t know.
Miles, 19, California
In a few words, give me a sense of what you know about Donald Trump and how you, as a first-time voter, perceive him.
I mean, Donald Trump has a reputation that speaks for itself. I view him as sort of the [former NBA player] Patrick Beverley of the political world. He always seems to butt his head in and isn’t afraid to mix it up with anyone. This alone wouldn’t be that bad, except for the fact that he doesn’t have the bite to back up the bark. Historically, he’s said some pretty wild things, but almost never fully backs them up.
Growing up in the age of Trump, how did adults around you speak of the former president?
I always heard mixed words of Trump. I mostly grew up in Livermore, which is one of the most conservative cities in the [San Francisco] Bay Area, although still not the majority. Most adults I knew spoke poorly of him, but there were always the few who were very excited when he did anything.
What was your typical reaction to that discourse?Cringe?
I never liked hearing political discussions growing up, so yes, cringe is a great way to describe my reaction to people talking about him. I never liked hearing about him or anything he did.
What were some of your first memories of Trump’s White House?
I don’t really remember much, but one thing I do remember a lot of was the online reactions and memes. It was so laughable that Trump even made it to the White House that people would make edits of him.
Did you know that Trump was impeached twice?
Yes, I did know that. He is the only president to have that happen, I believe.
“This is not normal” was a popular phrase during the 2016 election. I’m just curious: If you could choose to live in that supposedly pre-Trump era, do you think you’d want to?
If we define pre-Trump as pre-2016, then no, I would not like to live in it. Those were some pretty good years regarding music and early YouTube, but having to deal with 2008 would be pretty bad as an adult, I assume. While those years were fun, what came after has been a lot better for me and more fun.
When olds talk about a time in politics before Trump and what was “good” and “decent,” do we sound ancient? Naive?
I think they’re probably right. Today, there is a much bigger social media base in campaigns and it is so much easier to spread misinformation. Obviously, politics have always been dirty, but I feel as if it’s just gotten worse since Trump has been involved.
Do you think January 6 is one of the events where most people a generation from now will remember where they were when it happened?
Absolutely. I remember I was on a Zoom call for AP World History when I heard that news. It was just so unfathomable that something like that could even happen and is a huge historical moment in Trump’s legacy.
When someone calls Trump dangerous, what did that mean to you, as someone who grew up during the era of Trump?
As a white middle-class male, I never felt Trump was dangerous directly to me. I can’t speak for others on this matter, though; I know I’m not a group he would want to target.
Is there anything Trump did as president that you think was good?
I cannot think of anything off the top of my head that Trump did exceptionally.
Are you familiar with any of the Trump kids? And if you are, who do you identify with the most?
I can’t even name any of his kids off the top of my head.
This week in an Albany, New York courtroom, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is fighting a legal challenge that has the potential to sink much of his independent presidential campaign. The dispute is over where he calls home.
In a lawsuit that was engineered by Clear Choice PAC, a super PAC formed earlier this year by political allies of President Joseph Biden to combat independent candidates or third-party efforts that could threaten the Democratic ticket, several New York State voters challenged Kennedy’s position on the state’s presidential ballot, contending that he falsely stated his residence on the nominating petitions he filed to obtain ballot access. They argue that this renders his petitions invalid and that he ought to be tossed from the ballot. (The original complaint also challenged signatures on Kennedy’s petitions, but that matter has been put to the side.)
Being kicked off the Empire State’s ballot would be embarrassing for Kennedy but not likely to affect the overall presidential race. Vice President Kamala Harris is expected to win the heavily Democratic state. But strategists for Clear Choice PAC say they have identified about 18 states where Kennedy is on the ballot and could be vulnerable to similar challenges if he loses the New York case. This collection of states includes most of the swing states, where Kennedy could impact the ultimate outcome by drawing votes from Harris or GOP nominee Donald Trump. (In some states, if Kennedy loses this case, he would likely be allowed to correct his filings.)
The key issue is simple and involves a private room in a one-family house in bucolic Katonah, New York.
The house is owned by the wife of an old friend of Kennedy. RFK Jr. claims this room is his official residence and has listed it on his ballot petitions in New York and in ballot filings in other states. The petitioners contend that this is a ruse and that he has been living in California for years with his wife Cheryl Hines, the actor best known for co-starring with Larry David in HBO’s Curb Your Enthusiasm.
Each side has submitted court filings arguing its case. In an affidavit, Kennedy insists that “at the very marrow of my being” he is a New Yorker. He notes that he is registered to vote at this Katonah address, that his car is registered there, and that he pays New York State income taxes. He adds that he maintains falconry, fishing, and hunting licenses at this address. “My life, my passions, the years I spent raising my family, my career and my political contacts, and my orientation have been and are ever in my home state of New York,” says Kennedy, who for years was an environmental lawyer who worked in the state (before becoming an antivax crusader and conspiracy theory promoter).
Kennedy acknowledges that since his 2014 marriage to Hines, he has lived with her in a series of homes in California, including houses in Malibu and a tony canyon in Brentwood. His affidavit includes a hard-to-believe claim: “My agreement with my wife, Cheryl Hines, to temporarily join her in the state of California, was that we would both return to the state of New York upon her retirement. We will return to my current residence at 84 Croton Lake Road, Katonah, New York.” The pair really will leave their luxurious $7 million Los Angeles home to reside in what Kennedy calls a “private room” in his friend’s house?
The petitioners maintain that Kennedy is pulling a fast one and that he essentially moved to California when he went LA with Hines. “Kennedy acknowledged his true residence in California when he purchased property,” their initial complaint says. It points to a letter he wrote when he resigned as an officer of Riverkeeper, an environmental group based in New York, and wrote the group, “As you know, I now live on the west coast and the weekly commute has been hard on my family to say nothing of my carbon footprint.”
The petitioners list instances when Kennedy in media interviews referred to California as his “home.” And they note that when he filed his candidacy statement with the Federal Elections Commission, he used his California address. Moreover, they point out that the Katonah home is in foreclosure, and they cite a New York Post article that reported that neighbors were unaware of Kennedy’s residence in this house and had never seen him.
There’s another wrinkle: Under the Constitution, if a presidential and vice presidential candidate are from the same state, they cannot claim that state’s Electoral College votes. It seems unlikely that Kennedy can win in California, Harris’ home state. But given that his running mate, Silicon Valley millionaire (or billionaire) Nicole Shanahan, is a Californian, RFK Jr. could encounter a problem should he surge to an improbable victory in the Golden State.
The legal filings of each side are filled with technical arguments regarding residency, and it’s tough to predict the outcome. Whichever side loses the case will likely appeal. The court proceedings are expected to end this week, and there’s already a date scheduled for an appeals court trial. With ballots soon to be printed in New York and other states, there is not much time to resolve the matter. And if Clear Choice PAC obtains the ruling it seeks, it will have to move quickly to mount challenges in other states.
On Monday, the Kennedy campaign released this statement about the case:
Independent Presidential Candidate Robert F. Kennedy Jr. will testify this week at the Albany County Supreme Court where campaign attorneys expect to prove that 1) Kennedy has had a residence in New York for decades; 2) that any attempt by New York to restrict candidates beyond the U.S. Constitutional standard of residence being the state to which you intend to return would be unconstitutional; and 3) that the nominating petition cannot be struck because Kennedy, relying on advice of counsel, in good faith listed his New York residence on his nominating petitions.
The Kennedy campaign said it is officially on the ballot in 13 states (including Michigan, Minnesota, and North Carolina), has submitted signatures in 19 states, and has collected enough signatures for ballot access in 10 other states.
The Clear Choice PAC was organized when polls suggested that RFK Jr. might draw more votes from Biden than Trump—though the picture was far from clear. More recent surveys have indicated that he now might be more a magnet for Trump-leaners than possible Harris voters. Yet Clear Choice is still rigorously pursuing the New York challenge and preparing to move forward in other states if it wins in Albany.
One strategist familiar with the PAC’s efforts notes that it may not be until late September that Kennedy’s impact on the race can be accurately estimated. But, this person adds, if the Democrats’ strategy is to consolidate the anti-Trump electorate to prevent the former president’s return to the White House, their best bet is a binary choice between Harris and Trump, with Kennedy and other independent or third-party candidates pushed to the side and considered non-factors.
One longtime Kennedy associate says that Kennedy, whose father was a senator representing New York, has never wanted to give up his ties to the state, perhaps because he might run for office there. It would be quite the turn of events if that desire caused his removal from the ballot in New York and, worse for his campaign, in other states.
Campaign finance disclosures are made public too ridiculously slowly to be of much use for real-time political analysis, but they do reveal some general trends in terms of who supports whom, and how rich they are.
I previously reported that, according to Federal Election Commission data through May 1—before Donald Trump’s criminal conviction, Biden’s disastrous debate performance, or Saturday’s assassination attempt—Trump was getting less than one-third of his contributions from small donors (people who gave less than $200), whereas the 100 top donors (all very, very rich) favored Republicans by a margin of 3 to 1.
That hasn’t changed per the latest data, most of which only gets us through May 31—which is still before all of the mayhem mentioned above. With the new numbers, the Top 100 still favor Republican groups and candidates, in dollars given, by a nearly 3-to-1 margin.
One notable difference involved a reshuffling among the Top 5, who have given overwhelmingly to Republicans and their causes. The lead position in the last round was held by billionaire couple Janine and Jeffrey Yass—he’s a cofounder of Susquehanna International Group (an investment firm) and a major TikTok investor. From his contribution history, it’s clear that Yass wasn’t much of a Trump supporter, though Susquehanna owned a stake in the special purpose acquisition company that merged with Trump Media.
The latest (and likely current, though not for long) top donor is a major Trump backer. That’s banking dynasty heir Timothy Mellon—a “reclusive plutocrat,” as independent journalist Judd Legum wrote in his Popular Information Substack, who over the past 12 months has given $25 million to American Values 2024, a Super PAC supporting Robert Kennedy, Jr. and then turned around and donated a whopping $50 million to the Trump Super PAC Make America Great Again Inc. the day after a jury found the former president guilty of 34 felonies.
At last count, the Top 100 had doled out $933.5 million, only 22 percent of which went to solidly Democratic candidates and causes.
In all, this election cycle, Mellon has given more than $115 million to Republicans, including $76.5 million to MAGA Inc. He also, as Legum noted, has donated $4 million to Sentinel Action Fund, a Super PAC created by Heritage Action, a subsidiary of the Heritage Foundation, whose controversial Project 2025 was created as more or less a blueprint for a second Trump term—though Trump, incredibly, claims no knowledge of it.
Moreover, in 2020, Mellon gave $20 million to America First Action, a Super PAC run by America First Inc., a nonprofit that claims in its IRS filings it is “bipartisan,” but listed as its board chair Linda McMahon. That’s the WWE mogul Trump appointed to run his Small Business Administration. Linda and her husband, Vince McMahon, are No. 17 on the Top 100 donors list, giving more than $11 million so far to Republican candidates and causes during the current election cycle. Nonpartisan indeed.
At last count, the Top 100 had doled out a total of $933.5 million to candidates, party committees, and outside groups. Only 22 percent of it went to solidly Democratic candidates and causes, while 64 percent went to solidly Republican candidates and causes.
President Joe Biden’s campaign committee raised a total of about $231 million, of which 42 percent came from small donors giving less than $200. Trump’s campaign committee reported about $196 million in donations, 31 percent from under-$200 donors. The Trump campaign also reported about $193 million from outside groups, while the Biden campaign reported roughly $160 million.
So that’s where we are—or rather, were. So much has changed, so quickly, in this race. Trump’s conviction, for which he showed only contempt, and no remorse, only seemed to boost his status with MAGA die-hards. Meanwhile, ever since that unforgettable June 26 debate, top Democratic donors have been flipping out about Biden, who keeps insisting he’s in for the long haul.
And then came the attempt on Trump’s life, which has energized his already frenetic base, and could fuel his grassroots fundraising efforts.
On Sunday, less than 24 hours after a 20-year-old man fired an AR-15 at the Republican nominee, wounding him slightly, Trump’s campaign was already sending out pleas like the following, which landed in a colleague’s inbox at 2:51 pm ET that day:
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