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By the time the proverbial ink dries on this column, Indiana will have gained a new voter—the one I brought into the world 18 years ago this month.
If she had a first memory in politics, it would be snuggled up in her baby carrier on a pool table in the back room at Pat Flynn’s Pub on the night of the 2008 Democratic gubernatorial primary. I was working for Jim Schellinger’s campaign. The race was coming down to the wire. The media were all there waiting for a statement. It was hectic and loud, and she slept right through it.
We’d find out hours later that we lost that primary, which would pave the way for incumbent Republican Gov. Mitch Daniels to cruise to reelection unironically aligned with Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama’s message of hope and change.
Four years later, she tagged along with me to a rally where former President Bill Clinton stumped for then-congressman Joe Donnelly, who would go on to win election to the U.S. Senate a month later. At the sound check before the event, I snapped a quick and now-favorite photo of her standing behind the podium yelling into the microphone with all the fearless energy of a 4-year-old.
In 2015, Donald Trump entered the political scene and completely changed the game. He bypassed and vilified traditional media. He doubled down on politics as blood sport, viciously insulting his opponents. He centered his campaign on an us-versus-them narrative that brought in new voters who felt like someone was finally listening to them while leaving others’ jaws on the floor.
None of this is news to any of you. We’ve all lived through it, and I daresay most readers of this publication, whether you adore or despise him, would agree that there will not be another candidate like Trump in our lifetimes—if ever.
But for 10 of her 18 years on this planet, my daughter (and other newly minted voters) has only ever known the framework of Trumpian politics.
I was watching a MasterClass episode where the speaker said no matter what generation we think we fit in—boomers, Gen X, millennials, Gen Z—we are collectively part of Generation T, the transition generation.
But that transition isn’t hitting everyone the same way.
A recent survey found postings for entry-level American jobs have declined about 35% since January 2023. Job losses among 16- to 24-year-olds are on the rise. The average age for a first-time homeowner has hit a record high of 40 years old. Skepticism toward institutions has never been higher. And all of that is taking place against a backdrop of political anger.
If you are a young person today, you are coming of age in a time of great uncertainty. And we olds? We are exhausted. We have seen the politics we grew up with, where people could politely agree to disagree, seemingly shredded and left on the cutting room floor.
But if we want it to get better, we have one job to do. We have to tell these new voters that it wasn’t always this way, and we have to show them it can get better. We have to model the behavior we hope they will emulate—and speak into existence that they have the power to move us through and beyond the chaos.
It’s both incredibly simple and practically hard because it requires us to reengage at a time when apathy often feels easier. But we owe it to them to show that we can rise above and that this, too, shall pass.•
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Chartier is a lifelong Indianapolis resident and owner of Mass Ave Public Relations. Send comments to [email protected].
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