Tuesday,
February 11, 2025
Year : 2, Issue: 24
by Sara Pequeño
When Donald Trump was elected to his first presidential term in 2016, I was stunned.
In hindsight, I don’t know why I was so surprised. I was a liberal in the red state of North Carolina. Nearly three-fourths of my home county went for Trump. I knew the way that he had infiltrated online discourse and knew plenty of people my age who voted for him.
Heading into his second term, I felt nothing. I knew exactly what to expect. It doesn’t stop the dread I now feel on a regular basis.
There seems to be no end to the sadistic tactics of Trump’s second administration. In the past few weeks alone, he has tried to force trans people out of public life, sent Immigration and Customs Enforcement to terrorize the immigrant community, threatened to upend the ceasefire in Gaza, and made economic decisions that will cause the prices of everyday goods to rise.
I’m part of Generation Z, born between 1997 and 2012 ‒ a generation that largely had no say when Trump was elected the first time. In 2020, we rejected him.
Even in 2024, adults under 30 voted for Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris more than any other age group. We don’t want him. We’ve never wanted him.
So I know there are many in the generation who, like me, feel dizzy when they try to wrap their heads around the hostile MAGA takeover of the United States. To these people, I want to say it will be OK. We can’t give up.
Trump dislikes everything about Gen Z. Good
I’m 27. To most of Gen Z, that makes me ancient.
I am old enough to have voted for Hillary Clinton in the 2016 election. I am old enough to have experienced college before COVID-19. I am old enough to have seen years of protest and resistance to Trump, who is determined to use his first 100 days in office to transform the United States into a Republican hellscape.
I am also old enough to know that Trump and Republicans are going to face brutal midterm elections in 2026.
In many ways, small percentages of Gen Z represent what the Republican Party fears most: 6% of Zoomers were born outside the United States; 22% are the children of immigrants.
More than 1 in 5 Gen Z adults identify as LGBTQ+; 2% of the generation identifies as transgender. Trump’s actions only make that matter more and give us reasons to pay attention.
Despite trending blue overall, we are still a deeply divided generation.
There is a subsect of Gen Z that does not agree with me politically. They are the ones who believe that edginess is in vogue, who want the freedom to say slurs and who seem to support MAGA and Trump more than they support traditional Republican values.
To that part of Gen Z, I want to ask: Does your life improve because someone else is losing their rights? The price of eggs are still high; wages haven’t increased. Trump has not made it easier for first-time homebuyers, nor has he talked about his plan to help student loan borrowers.
From my point of view, things are still pretty grim for my generation.
I know many in my generation who are despondent, shaken up by the sharp turn this country is taking. It is easy, at this point, to give in to the fear. Don’t.
In times like this, hope itself is a radical act. One must refuse to give up on the world that we want.
The thing to do now is to find your community, whoever that may be. Demand your representatives take action. Protest in the streets. Get involved where you live in a cause that you support. There are still Democratic leaders at all levels of government who can do something to combat Trump’s radical and hateful agenda. Push back on the Republican plot to keep us from organizing and finding community with one another.
The Trump administration is trying to take everything from us. Do not let them take your joy. Do not let them take your agency. Don’t let them take your vote in 2026.
