This essay reflects the personal thoughts and experiences of a nonbinary individual who attended a Trump rally, inspired to share their insights with us. They did not attend on assignment from GO Magazine, but rather as an observer seeking to understand the rally’s atmosphere. We want to clarify that, since the writer did not attend with a set assignment, some quotes are paraphrased and were not directly recorded, except for those attributed to official speakers. Please note that names and defining details have been changed, and some elements have been altered for privacy purposes.
“Kamala Harris is for They/Them. Donald Trump is for YOU,” Donald Trump’s latest political advertisement boomed on a 50” TV screen as I watched Sunday football earlier this month in a crowded bar. I was traveling alone deep in Trump Country: Atlantic City, New Jersey. Whoops, hollers, and boos bellowed out through each portion of this advertisement by those around me as they jeered Harris and cheered Trump. This advert would play once every single commercial break for the entire day, and never would it be played without a loud reaction. It was usually accompanied by a second Trump campaign ad that falsely claimed children were receiving gender-affirming surgeries at school.
The Trump campaign and Republican groups have poured over $21 million into anti-trans and anti-LGBTQ television ads as of October 9, making this one of the highest funded political advertising efforts of all time. Despite its astronomical budget, these advertisements make no mention of Trump’s specific stances on policy, nor do they highlight any of his accomplishments. The ads I saw on that Sunday were absent of personal testimonies from people who benefitted from his specific actions while in office or any mentions of his record of “success.” No, Trump’s most recent and most expensive ads to win voters are not rooted in his past proof of action or future plans. The $21,000,000 was instead dedicated to creating fear of Harris’ actions. The fear of the trans community. The fear of people like me.
I don’t identify as male or female. I’m a person who just identifies as a person. I use You as a proper noun. The pronouns I feel most related to and respected by are They/Them. I fall under the trans and queer umbrellas of identity… should one need to slap a label on it.
I looked around at the people hooting and hollering at the TV screens. They seemed like average, kind folks. Were they scared of me? Should I be scared of them? I wondered, are Trump’s ads merely bizarre, obsessive sensationalism, or is there a broader community that truly seeks to enforce such harmful views—putting us in danger? Who are these people?
I grew up in Vermont, but was born in upstate New York. My father currently still lives upstate, teaching carpentry and mechanics to kids at a trade school, and treating a hunting license like a food stamp. He plays Fox news loudly and proudly when I visit him. Once, we got into a physical confrontation over a debate regarding immigration policies after a particularly frustrating episode of Tucker Carlson. I find his political views hard to understand but I still love him and I admire the ways he helps his community. He takes veterans out camping. He built my grandfather a small cabin to live on by hand and stocked the pond in front with fish for him to feed. He shares his harvested venison with neighbors and helps people process their kills to maximize the yield and get through winter. He’s a hardworking man, in a community that has largely not been helped through its hard times.
My mother, who calls herself a bleeding heart liberal, is a vegetarian, who currently lives off the grid. She protects every animal that crosses through the area from hunters through various methods. Needless to say, my parents are divorced.
My dad is a Trump supporter. My mom is a Bernie Sanders supporter. Despite their differences in opinion, my mom and dad both agreed on instilling an important lesson in me: listening to all candidates running before making a decision. They taught me to wait until election day to vote because often things can be revealed at the last minute about a candidate. They also taught me that You can learn a lot more about a candidate by the community the candidate attracts. So get amongst the voters. And that lesson is exactly why I found myself at the Trump rally at Madison Square Garden on October 27th. I set out with a mission to engage with Trump supporters. It was not just about attending a rally; it was about seeing if the MAGA crew truly believed in the sensational advertisements I had seen on that football Sunday and understanding what they envisioned for our collective future if their candidate came into power. Would I be safe?
PREPPING FOR THE EVENT
“Rain, I respect You but this is not a game. It’s a Nazi rally. These people carry guns. They want us dead,” a friend pleaded with me on the phone before I set out for the rally. But I had grown up amongst people like my dad who are now Trump supporters. I felt that, with mutual respect and curiosity, I could come out just fine.
I set my phone to “Do not disturb” to silence my friends’ well intended forebodings. I didn’t want bias. I didn’t want assumptions. I didn’t want the same fear mongering in my mind that Trump’s anti-trans adverts had attempted to put into the minds of his followers. I wanted a clean slate.
I dressed neutrally and presented as the one of the most commonly seen Trump follower archetypes: I wore clean white trousers, a working shirt, and a simple brown cowboy hat of working quality.
As I came out of the subway, vendors shook MAGA gear in the air and flurried fistfuls of cash exchanged for them. I didn’t see any protesters, but I did see people who were clearly marching to the rally. Behind me I heard a voice yell, “That man’s probably going! Quick!”
A woman and her friend, clutching newly purchased mini Trump flags, approached me. (Little did they know, they would be told at the entrance to leave all personal Trump signs in the trash. Official signs allowed only! Wasted purchase.)
“Sorry sweetheart, are You going to-”
“Trump Rally? Yup. You lost?” I asked.
“Are You?” she replied playfully.
“Nope, I’m tall enough to see where we are going- I imagine we just follow those giant Trump flags ahead and we’re good. Want to walk with me?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, please. We are here alone so we don’t want any trouble with the loonies. Just wanna get to our people.” She laughed. I assumed the loonies were the potential anti-MAGA protesters she suspected we might encounter.
She took my elbow and walked with me through various gates to a giant crowd of people sandwiched on a street, waiting for their turn to enter MSG. We arrived just in time somehow because, about ten minutes after arrival, thousands were behind us.
I asked if she had been to a rally before and if she was excited. She made no short time of immediately jumping into politics with me. She introduced herself as Sam* and said she was a teacher in Connecticut*. Her biggest fear was weather warfare and she brought up that the UN prohibits the use of environmental modification techniques. She went on to talk about how several whales had died by sonar blasts to their ears from “alternate energy researchers scoping the ocean for wind mill locations.”
At my quiet nodding, she asked, “You do care about whales, right?”
“Of course,” I replied. Which was the truth. If whales are dying by sonar blast from research equipment, then we need to address that immediately, I thought to myself.
“Yeah, I’ve always been upset by what the Chinese do to dolphins. But whales are so human, You know?” she responded enthusiastically.
Trump has taken a strong stance against offshore wind development, attributing the recent deaths of several whales to sonar blasts from researchers surveying the ocean for wind turbine locations, and he plans to advocate for halting these projects to “protect marine life.”
She continued to say that she felt Trump really cared about the kids and that her best years as a teacher were while he was in office. More children than ever were coming into her class with serious allergies like peanut allergies, and she told me that she thinks Trump utilizing RFK to oversee health in the country would save future students by regulating the agriculture industry, though that idea is hotly contested by others.
People around us began to chant “USA! USA! USA!” forcing Sam to pause her excited chatter.
“I feel safer than I have in a long time,” she sighed.
It struck me that she didn’t relax until she was surrounded by an intense, chanting crowd. We were now surrounded by a sea of red MAGA hats and I had a moment of panic. I didn’t feel quite at ease, but Sam did.
Thousands of people filled every half block. Camera crews and social media bloggers glided by on a roped off sidewalk to snap photos or videos.
“Jews for Trump!” one person yelled out loudly as a camera came alongside them. From behind me I heard, “But are you a Jew for Palestine?”
“I’m for Trump! I’m for Trump!” a man clad in Trump gear head-to-toe insisted.
“No politics! No politics! This is a day of JOY!” Sam’s friend shouted huffily.
“Trump promised peace in the Middle East!” a person cried out at those still engaging.
“DAY OF JOY!” several people could be heard repeating.
“Trump! Trump! Trump!” the crowd then chanted in unison. And just as soon as the clash had begun, it was over.
“That’s the type of diversity Trump brings. People from all over!” Sam laughed. “We don’t all think the same but that’s how You know we aren’t sheep. Trump! Trump!”
Sam’s friend had had enough of her attention being on me and gave a little complaint, so Sam excused herself and wished me a blessed day and thanked me for helping her. While she nudged over to the side of the crowd, I reflected on the way she spoke about her students. I think their physical wellbeing and health were the thing she was most passionate about. I could tell that she was the type of person who would likely lie down their life for them if a crisis occurred. I hadn’t had the opportunity to ask her about the Trump anti-trans adverts in our exchange. Or introduce myself to see how she felt about me as a person. What if one of her students identified as trans? Throughout my time in line, we occasionally made eye contact and she waved or winked or even cheered towards me.
Now alone, I began people watching for the next person to connect with. Alongside the media sidewalk came a Kim Jong Un impersonator. People naively waved in a friendly manner, not realizing they were being set up to become a meme. The crowd laughed and some said “Oh hey! Wow, look at that looks real,” and “Oh honey, isn’t that silly?”
I genuinely believe many of these people had no clue this impersonator was making a sketch framing Trump supporters as supporters of the dictator and saw him as innocent amusement. However, others started mumbling “The left is at it again. Not funny. Should be illegal to film us like this.” Some people covered their faces and one person said someone should get their details so they could sue the impersonator.
“Kim Jong Un’s” presence brought up conversations around me about how this event was being called a Nazi rally by the left. Everyone denied it to each other and looked around, remarking loudly how they didn’t see any swastikas or people in Balaclavas. I could hear several people sharing theories that Feds and Antifia would put plants into the crowd disguised as Nazis to frame the community as fascist.
“You know, JFK and Clinton both had rallies at Madison Square Garden… so I guess they were Nazis too,” a man chuckled to me, noticing I had been eavesdropping on the people around us.
Joe* was an electrical engineer who felt that his big motivator for voting Trump was the upcoming energy crisis. He expressed that the “Green Energy Policies” were dangerous for the nation. “If You think wind and solar are going to sustain the rising energy needs of an AI world, then You are just ignorant. We need nuclear. We need fossil fuels. Period,” he said to me.
“They’ve made progress in hydrogen as well,” I noted, referring to research I’d read from several groups like Toyota to the WEF to the UN to general fuel companies.
He nodded vigorously. “Yes, son, they have. I see You keep up with the news.”
Joe went on to say that he never thought in a million years he’d be voting Republican because he’s always been an efficient energy guy and frankly, he thinks socially he’s more liberal. However, he considers himself an environmentalist and said that, without efficient energy, we don’t have a clean environment. Without a clean environment, people will die and we can kiss sociopolitics goodbye. So his vote for Trump was one he felt was helping the overall global population.
“I know it’ll hurt. But short term pain for long term gain. Lived old enough to learn that sometimes ya gotta sacrifice a bit now but it’ll pay out later,” he said.
Joe and I spoke a bit further to pass the time. He had come alone after spending a week at one of his hunting cabins. We talked about how the needs of rural New York were so different than the big city. He said that electric vehicles, for example, were good to advocate for city folks but when it comes to those in remote areas, they need different options. As a person who has witnessed the challenges rural communities face, I agreed. Their resources, culture, access, and financial realities aren’t the same as those of city folks and a one size fits all rule would be difficult to place upon them without significant considerations.
Joe also elaborated that he felt rural and suburban residents, unlike “city liberals,” were far superior at environmentalism. “There’s no better environmentalist than a hunter, I’ll tell you that. A hunter will fight tooth and nail to get protections for the deer and such. Ya know? Or else they won’t have anything to get next year.”
I was so engrossed in my conversation with Joe, I had almost forgotten where I was at and what I was there to discover.
“Joe, You watch the NFL?” I asked.
“Oh, sure. It’s painful, though. My team’s crap right now since Brady’s gone.”
“What do You think of all those ads about Kamala is for they/them, Trump is for You.’ You know those ones?” I hoped I wasn’t giving away anything by getting straight to it.
“Ah yup, yup. Well, I don’t have much of an opinion on them. Wish they didn’t play so often. But that’s politics, isn’t it?” He shrugged.
“But as a person for socio-politics, does it not bother You?” I asked.
“It’s annoying, but I don’t really think it’s much of anything. Just politicians being politicians.”
I didn’t feel comfortable pressing further so I pretended I dropped something and stayed back a few moments. I let folks shuffle past me until I was amidst a new gaggle of people.
It had been 4 hours of waiting in line. I surveyed the area. Who was here? The majority of the crowd was white presenting, as was advertised. But there were several people, not just a couple, but a good number who were BIPOC, and I’d say about 40% of the attendees from the photos I took were possibly female-identifying. (I didn’t meet them personally to ask their pronouns, but based on their MOMS FOR TRUMP and MAGA QUEEN shirts, I’m making an educated guess.)
One thing I noticed was that most non-white individuals with MAGA gear on were the subject of the white Trump supporters’ attention and affection. White attendees went out of their way to talk to them, fist bump them, and tell them “truth seers! Truth seers!”
About thirty feet back, I heard two loud women laughing and yelling, jostling to cut in line a bit. They were brash and also delightfully mischievous. I overheard one of them yelling at someone ahead who was smoking a joint. “Ugh! Who’s smoking that skunk? Put it away, put it away! Yes to cannabis, but no to stink!”
The smoking individual flipped the yelling mysterious voices a middle finger. But the voices responded, “There’s a gummy guy! There’s gummies for that! Cut the stink and get high the polite way!”
I was pulled out of my shock at Trump supporters smoking weed because eventually I got poked by a finger in the back and turned around.
“Hey cowboy! Can You take a photo of us?” the same anti-stench women, about 5’ tall each excitedly handed me their phones. I agreed and took a photo of them smiling in front of the crowd. As they exclaimed how lucky they felt to be at the front of the line, one of them pointed out that they could see security on the rooftops with ak-47s.
A discussion was had about if a sniper might “Las Vegas Style” shoot us while we stood trapped like sitting ducks in the road.
“If it’s the secret service, they can’t be trusted to keep us safe.” one of the women, Cathlene* commented.
But many around us said that we were safe. Not to worry. That we were protected by God.
Cathlene and her friend had overheard me talking about hunting with Joe and wanted to chat about guns.
“You know, I could never kill an animal but I always loved guns. I carry one with me all the time, it’s cute and pink. When I shoot at the range, it forces me to concentrate and focus on a target. It’s been great for my mental health and also as a short gal I don’t have to worry about anyone running up on me. Came here to this all by myself, not a worry because I knew that if there was trouble, I was ready.”
Her friend gasped. “Cathlene… You didn’t bring that-”
Cathlene nodded.
“We are in New York. It’s different here. Especially after Butler,” her friend said.
A stranger who was pulling up next to us pointed at Cathlene’s purse and said “Purses and bags aren’t allowed in, You know. They might make You leave that.”
Cathlene looked at her purse sadly. “Well, I guess this means I can’t take my funsize gun then. Shame.”
“I’ve never seen a bright pink gun before,” I said curiously.
She cracked open her purse and excitedly showed me a bright pink tiny little handgun. “Isn’t she cute? Well, I’ll be back.”
With that, she fought through the crowd and to the barrier, hopping over the metal gate and onto the sidewalk. She disappeared, and twenty minutes later, reappeared, the bag replaced with a giant cup of lemonade. When people attempted to stop her from reentering, she battled loudly and swam back through the sea of people to us, triumphantly sharing her beverage.
“I’m impressed,” I remarked genuinely.
“Don’t be, any woman here that supports Trump has to be a strong woman. We know how to get what we want. Like You, right?” Cathlene laughed.
It was the first time someone identified me as a woman. I smiled and took a sip of lemonade she had shared into a cup. I don’t know how she had gone from identifying me first as a male, now to a female, but she didn’t make a big deal of it or apologize. So I decided to dive into a question.
“Why Trump?” I asked.
“He cares about women. He wants us armed and he wants us free. And people want him dead, which is how You know he’s the real deal.”
Supporters of Trump often highlight his commitment to women, claiming he empowers them by advocating for their rights and freedoms. Some argue that his administration marked a “Year of the Woman,” showcasing female appointees. Recently, he even said he would be “great for women and their reproductive rights.” However, this perspective stands in stark contrast to many of the contradicting statements and actions he has taken throughout his career. During the 2016 election, he expressed a belief that women should face punishment for seeking abortions, which he later walked back, stating he did not support criminal penalties for women. He takes credit for stripping American Women of their national reproductive protections, thanks to his role in selecting Supreme Court justices who were pivotal in overturning the decades-long precedent that safeguarded abortion rights across the country. He even said “I was able to kill Roe V Wade,” in a social media post. Trump has emphasized the importance of having a “pro-life cabinet,” suggesting that he would prioritize appointing individuals who align with anti-abortion values if elected again. Lest we forget “grab her by the pussy” and other comments and policies that many perceive as derogatory or dismissive toward women. Then there’s the lack of genuine support for issues like the gender pay gap. And the sexual assault allegations. One that he was found liable for. The list goes on.
“What do You think about the advertisements he’s been running against the trans community?” I asked Cathlene.
“Every president says extreme things they don’t mean and Trump probably doesn’t really care about the trans world that much. Just politicians being politicians.” She replied.
The most common thing I find good-intentioned Trump supporters saying regarding Trump’s crass language and communication– and anti-trans policies– is that they felt it was a good, refreshing quality. Trump tells it like it is. He doesn’t need a teleprompter. I’m baffled by a people who seem stuck in between two conflicting conclusions about Trump’s rhetoric. People say they love him for his ‘tell it like it is’ antics. But, when he’s speaking, people then say ‘he doesn’t mean it like that’.
Which is it? Is Trump a person who says exactly what he thinks and is a maverick off the cuff? Or is he misunderstood, doesn’t say what he means, and just… speaks to speak?
“What do You think about the whole pronoun thing?” I asked Cathlene casually after a few moments had gone by of unrelated dialogue.
She told me that she didn’t really have a problem with the lesbian and gay thing personally, but that ever since social media was invented, mental health had become a bigger crisis and with that, the need for people to “feel special by making up words” was on the rise.
Needless to say, she wasn’t a fan.
Her response went from “people want you calling them plurals and random sounds” to “most school shooters are trans. And they want us to take away our guns? Take away the mental illness in this country, take away the trans people, and you take away the majority of mass shooters.”
I broke away from these two at that point because I didn’t have a response that I felt was responsible or safe.
ENTERING THE RALLY
Once I made it to the main entrance of MSG, the secret service and TSA style checks on thousands were meticulous but efficient. The entire process, from waiting to seating, took about 6 hours. Attendees were ushered onto different floors based on wristbands, leading to a chaotic free-for-all as people scrambled to secure spots. I was one of the lucky people to grab a seat on a balcony– by far the most comfortable in the house.
As I was going to sit, an elderly couple came in behind me. The wife was having a hard time with the stairs so I worked with her husband to get her down a flight. Unexpectedly, after looking at their options to sit, they asked if they could sit next to me and if it were alright for the wife to have the outside row seat because of her leg.
I scooted over and the wife commented that my fries smelled amazing. I offered her one to which she first refused then changed her mind. As she grabbed one, she said “I’ll only take the one I touched. No covid!”
It was a simple but considerate gesture. The two had traveled from Kansas* to hear Trump speak. They had barely slept and had flown through the night. They told me they had been married for 39 years and I could tell. They rarely stopped holding hands or cuddling. Later, the husband went to get some snacks and returned with a pack of Twizzlers which he offered me and I accepted a couple. We munched together and talked about Tulsi Gabbard, Hulk Hogan, and football. He eventually revealed to me that his big motivator for voting Trump was the economy. He said that he felt, deep in his heart, that Trump wanted everyone to have a little taste of wealth.
To be perfectly honest, I’m deathly afraid of heights and didn’t want to get chucked over the balcony two feet in front of me so I didn’t press him on this theory. Ahead of me, there was a row that had access to small TVs intended to show the speakers live and upfront. But the people sitting in that row found out You could switch it to regular channels and, instead, turned on football. Sports played while speakers droned on and the people controlling the TVs bet on fanduel and cheered on their teams, ignoring most of the speakers.
During this period, the ‘They/Them’ advert which had sent me here played several times and I pointed it out to my new friend sitting next to me. “What do You think about these ads?”
“I don’t want to get into it. I’m here for the economy. Trump’s not a perfect guy. I wish he had run ads on his success instead. But he’s going to fix the economy.”
During his presidency, Trump implemented The Tax Cuts and Jobs Act of 2017 and renegotiated trade deals like the USMCA. These actions were hailed as beneficial for American workers and the overall economy by his supporters. In actuality, the 2017 tax law was skewed to benefit the rich, and failed to deliver on its promises, as it primarily benefited corporations while resulting in a significant increase in the federal deficit and limited wage growth for average workers.
“You don’t think he’ll actually go after immigrants and trans people and women?” I asked.
“Probably. But that’s why a president isn’t a dictator. There’s checks and balances.” He said that’s why sending laws back to the states are important because in a “good America” some states would outlaw things that others wouldn’t. And people could find a place for themselves no matter what in the country because You could just go to a state where You were legal. “Everyone ought to have a place where You belong. I don’t think transgenders should be illegal everywhere. Some states should allow it. Like California and such. But some states shouldn’t. People just go where they belong when they are an adult.”
We didn’t talk much after that. But I could tell he really felt he was saying something open and revolutionary there. Something liberal and accepting. The couple had been so sweet to me. They knew nothing about my identity.
The woman seated on my other side had a VIP lanyard around her neck and seemed upset when I first sat down. She shared that she was supposed to be in a special section but that it was overbooked and she was forced to sit on the balcony.
Miranda* was a deeply devout Christian mother of 5* who was a representative for a conservative moms group. She justifiably took tremendous pride in the fact that, as a full time stay at home Mom, who, among other responsibilities, homeschools 5 children, she’d traveled across the country to attend this significant event. She just absolutely loved Trump– the way she spoke about him was so warm and endearing.
“It’s so nice to have someone finally here to save us from the hell America has become. He is gonna save us.”
I decided to let loose more with Miranda than anyone yet. Afterall, I’d made it into the building. I revealed to her that I was LGBTQ+ and she said “I will pray for You. You know, I’m glad You knew You could come here because we had the Log Cabin people for Trump. So You might find them here. They are Your people. A lot of gays know Trump doesn’t hate them.”
Donald Trump’s record on LGBTQ+ issues suggests otherwise. He announced that he would seek a ban on transgender individuals serving in the military and failed to acknowledge Pride Month during his presidency. Policy-wise, his administration rolled back protections for transgender students and removed healthcare protections against discrimination based on gender identity. Additionally, Trump supported or remained silent on state-level laws restricting transgender rights, reflecting a broader pattern of anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric and actions.
We had a long chat about Trump’s policies and she told me that she really loved him because “he just tells it like it is. Kamala reads everything off a prompter. She’s a puppet. Trump is free! He’s off the cuff and that’s how You know You can trust him. He just speaks from the heart.”
She also went on to say that everyone is welcome at a Trump rally, and she didn’t understand why anyone would call it a Nazi rally. She said that the blanket statements of the left were abusive and hurtful to everyday Americans like her.
I don’t know what came over me, but I decided to ask her what she thought about the fear that if Trump appoints another right wing supreme court justice, gay marriage could be overturned.
Miranda shrugged and said, “I don’t see why people have a problem with gay people. I just don’t like it when their policies are shoved down my throat. Now, in private, am I forced to like Your lifestyle? No. I shouldn’t be. My only obligation is to move along in life. Not kill You. Try to be a good neighbor. Same goes with You. You don’t have to like the Christians in private but You shouldn’t judge us in person.”
I said “Equality is simple to me. If You can do it. I can do it. If You can’t do it, I can’t do it.”
“Marriage is spiritual, though. Why do your people want something that belongs to a religion they hate?”
Aside from the fact that some LGBTQ+ people happen to be quite religious themselves- I pointed out to her that actually, marriage according to the government, is a contract of accountability first and foremost. It is a declaration that each party will take responsibility for each other’s reliability to that government. Community. Each other. In exchange, the government offers certain rights You can’t easily obtain otherwise such as the right to decide what happens to a partner in a medical emergency or the right to conduct the funeral and handle assets after a partner has passed.
“That’s fine if You put it that way. I just don’t want to be involved with what’s in people’s pants or their bedrooms.”
I noted that Trump recently was talking about Arnold Palmer’s genitals at a rally. Would she consider that TMI? To this, she blushed and said, “Well, as I said, he’s unfiltered. It’s how You know he’s honest. At least we know he’s human.”
I changed the subject and asked her more about the organization for conservative moms she was involved with and what she did with them. She got very very excited and told me that she had homeschooled all of her children because she knew about the dangers of the modern day public schools. She said that her dream, and a big hope she has for Trump’s administration, is to abolish the department of education in the USA.
I asked her why and she said that children are learning a lot of things in school that are basically “like junkfood” for their brain. That the education system is broken. That a better educational system needs to be in place. She said that the best education can only be given to children by their parents and that school curriculums should be decided by the states or cities the schools are in.
“What about a consistent curriculum? What if one state decides it doesn’t want to teach math, for example? Should there be a basic standard for education?” I asked.
“Of course. Math, writing, speaking.”
“What about sciences?” I nudged.
“Yeah, of course, if You are going into a trade school studying science stuff, then yeah.”
“So You would only learn science if You wanted to do a profession that had science in it?” I asked.
“Absolutely. Why waste a child’s time and taxpayer money on an unnecessary class?”
“At what age should a kid know what they want to be when they grow up so they can access the need for science class?”
She thought for a moment then said, “Look, no offense, but as a mom of 5, I know a bit more about children than You do. I’m gonna tell You, honestly, you just know at a very young age what they are likely going to do. The way they move, their interests. It’s easy to tell who will be a construction worker or a doctor. God gives people purpose on this planet from the moment they are conceived. If we learned to pay attention more, we would be able to see those purposes sooner and tailor their education.”
Wow. To know what our purpose and station in life would be from the age of three. This blew me away. At three, I was a long tall infant with bushy hair who crawled around with chickens in the barn. I’m not sure what my parents would’ve envisioned for my adulthood… but I sure as heck knew they didn’t think I’d be a 6’ tall model, and very queer.
THE SPEECHES
The moment the rally officially began, the stadium roared. I took it in, it was gasping full. There were only a few empty seats near the stage, reserved for VIP guests. Premade Trump signs were handed out to everyone. Red hats were encouraged to be put on and the most aesthetically pleasing individuals for the campaign were seen artfully steered to the front of the audiences.
A scuffle or two broke out below, I wasn’t sure if they were protesters or disagreeing individuals. But officers dealt with it so fast, it was as if the chaos were dispersing clouds.
The first group onstage were some former NYC Firefighters, singer Mary Milben, and a female pastor who led a prayer. A portion of the prayer went like this.
“[Lord] Give him the power to lead with the courage, stamina, compassion, and discernment America needs right now. “
Yes. Please, more compassion, I’m into that.
“Our hearts are hurting, watching our children suffer. We see them being lead astray in our schools. We mourn them being abused, manipulated and indoctrinated to accept lies instead of truth. Help us to be JOYFUL warriors as we fight fiercely for them and their future.We are fighting to raise them as they should go.”
Ah. ‘SHOULD go’. I couldn’t help but feel this was a hint towards the LGBTQ+ community. Or maybe she was referring to kids trying drugs at a young age or kids choosing to become mass shooters. It was too ambiguous to pinpoint.
“We pray for safety and civility in this country. United in love for one another. Not divided by hate and division.”
Yes. More of this. Exactly. We do need less division and more love. I wonder how You think we can achieve that while Trump keeps playing ads against my identity on television.
The AMEN was shared as a chorus throughout the room. There was a wave of vibration to it because of the sheer volume of people exhaling at once.
I tried to relax into my seat. Prayer can be a powerful thing and if the core sentiments of that particular prayer were honored, then the rest of the speeches should be one giant love fest. A call to reconciliation, acceptance, togetherness, and healing. Right?
Next was our national anthem, which was sung stunningly by Mary Milben. Another brilliant sign that perhaps this rally would be one of bipartisanship since Mary has performed for four consecutive presidents. Bush, Obama, Trump, and Biden. I removed my hat for it along with mostly everyone else in the room. I felt as if Milben really knew she was in the legendary MSG. She sang like it was the last song she’d ever sing in her life. Power and grace.
Immediately after, hands over hearts for the national anthem, I noticed two young people put out their arms in a Nazi style salute. However, they were quickly buried by the people around them, who whacked with hands and hats until the two young people ducked shamefully down their aisle and were quickly out of view.
An artist named Scott LoBaido known as “The Creative Patriot” came out after and did a live painting performance for the audience. The stadium arena was so, so quiet. People became mesmerized and invested in his dashes of paint and brushes of color. When the final product (a waving USA flag with Trump hugging the Empire State Building) was revealed, everyone cheered delightedly. I really enjoyed watching this artist work and I found it touching how so many people in the audience really shared that enjoyment. I hadn’t really thought of the MAGA movement “supporting the arts,” so the moment was interesting to witness.
Then there was a comedian, who, by now you know, is named Tony Hinchcliffe. When he was introduced as a comic, I turned to Miranda and said, “I’m so happy they have a variety of acts so that it’s not just speakers. Makes it more entertaining.”
She nodded and smiled, “Trump’s a performer so he knows us well, doesn’t he?”
“I bet we are gonna hear some really wholesome Christian dad jokes. What do You think?”
She laughed. “Hey, don’t judge. Christian dad jokes are some of the most timeless.”
But what happened over the next two minutes froze both Miranda and I into silence. Tony was not a wholesome Christian joke teller. He wasted no time getting to the reveal of what he found funny.
“ I live in the great state of Texas now. […] And in Texas, stuff is really really crazy. We’re right next to an open border. Where are my proud latinos tonight?”
Several voices cheered happily. Right here! Us American Latinos are right here!
“You guys see what I mean? It’s wide open. There’s so many of them!”
People murmured. Laughs were spackled.
“Believe it or not, I welcome migrants with open arms to the United States. And by open arms I mean like this…”
Tony raised his arms and began waving them forwards, saying “No, no…go back.”
He chuckled, almost nervously. There were very audible groans. The people seated ahead of me shook their heads and decided to double down on the Browns game they had returned to watching. Instead of booing or condemning these racist jokes, they disconnected into the dopamine hits of Fanduel and football. How fitting.
I looked at Miranda, whose mouth was agape.
“Latinos love making babies. They do. They don’t pull out. They cum inside. Just like they did to our country,” Tony continued.
I knew Miranda was mortified by this person’s crudeness.“I don’t know about You Miranda, but I don’t exactly want to know what’s going on in Latino bedrooms. Or pants. Or lack of pants,” I quipped playfully.
She smiled slightly at this and patted my arm. “I just wasn’t ready for NYC humor. We don’t do this kind of humor [where I’m from.]”
Turns out she had flown into this rally on a 2am flight, barely slept, poured off a plane, stood in line for hours, got bumped from VIP to the balcony, all to sit next to some queer person and listen to someone tell racist jokes. Poor Miranda. I genuinely felt for her.
Tony went on and said that there was a floating island of garbage in the ocean. That island was called Puerto Rico. The audience audibly gasped. Someone behind me was laughing so hard, they said they were about to piss themselves. Others were like, “I think this guy is setting Trump up. You think he’s been bought out?”
The comedian clearly could tell he wasn’t going down well so he attempted a few more jokes. It wasn’t until he cracked one listing celebrities who had endorsed Harris, joking that everyday seemed more like the dem party was a Diddy party, that people got back on board with laughing. The comedian looked around relieved. “Oh, that’s what You want. More of that!”
The fact that this comedian basically was fishing to tell people what they wanted to hear told me everything I needed to know about him at this moment. I also noted that he never once made a joke at the expense of his own party. He never joked about Trump or his other constituents. Or much about himself. No. All of the jokes made were only at the expense of “the people the party was against.”
Which made them no longer jokes… but blows and opinions disguised as laughter. The louder the laugh… the higher the agreement. This wasn’t just a roast comic at work. This was a temperature gauge.
Hulk Hogan was a captivating speaker though. He treated the audience like they were at a special episode of Wrestlmania, even calling them Trumpomaniacs. People screamed and laughed, flexing their muscles and hurling out approval towards him.
“I don’t see no stinkin’ NAZIS in here!” he yelled across the crowd. “I don’t see no stinkin’ Domestic Terrorists in here! The only thing I see in here are a bunch of hardworking men and women that are real Americans, brother!”
The energy shifted at this statement. Everyone went wild and high fived each other or vigorously shook their signs. They were having a blast. Even Miranda had gone a bit feral on the clapping. Her tight lips and hand wringing through the previous speeches melted into an inner child. It was beautiful to see this giddy side of her.
“Isn’t he just so fun? Trump just has such fun friends.” She laughed. “He’s really just a fun, relatable guy.”
The fourth speaker… not such a fun guy. Rudy Giuliani.
He came out to the stage to a mix of cheers and some small boos. At first, I was surprised at how eloquent, charming, and funny he was. He has a sense of humor and some modern knowledge. He knew the audience well and had some PG quips such as noting that the Yankees won the world series when he was mayor. For a moment, I was a bit fooled into thinking… wow. This was going to be a decent and motivating speech. Until Rudy Giuliani turned off the charmer lights and decided to veer into the topic of Palestine, seemingly out of nowhere.
“The Palestinians,” he made no distinction from Hamas, “are taught to kill us at two years old. They won’t let a Palestinian into Jordan. They won’t let a Palestinian into Egypt. And Harris wants to bring them to YOU! […] They may have good people, I’m sorry, I don’t take a risk with people that are taught to kill Americans at the age of two. […] They’re on the side of the terrorists!”
TWO YEAR OLDS don’t deserve to be called terrorists. These ‘good people’ are not expendable. People calling for humanitarian aid and for the reign in of violence against innocent civilians are not advocating for terrorism. But it’s way easier to not feel bad about Palestinian infants dying en masse in videos on Instagram when You are told they are born killers. Who wants a murderous toddler on their doorstep? Shivers.
And Palestinians not being allowed into Egypt and Jordan is a blatant lie, easily debunked by a quick google search. More than 2 million registered Palestine refugees live in Jordan. I personally helped evacuate hundreds of Palestinian refugees to Egypt where they were admitted into hospitals for care from their amputations and full body burns. I visited countless hospitals and homes, delivering aid and recording their stories. Both of these nations have Palestinian refugees.
I wished the pastor would get back out there and take this man off the stage by the ear and pray for him to tap into a bit of that unity, compassion, and love she preached about. I started to feel rage, tears welled up in my eyes, my heart thudded in my chest. I felt sick. At that moment, I was so upset at these racist statements against Palestineans, I almost got up and left.
But I was jolted out of my anguish by a group of people in attendance who had come in support of Palestine as they booed from an adjacent balcony.
“Why did You come here then?” a person hissed at them.
“Trump promised peace in the middle east! He brought peace before he’s going to do it again.”
I was surprised to see Pro Palestine supporters in attendance at the Trump rally, considering he had promised to give Netanyahu the tools to “finish the job.” And promised a Muslim ban during his time in office.
As we edged closer to Trump arriving onstage, our row took turns watching each other’s stuff while we went to the restroom. The vendors had stopped serving food and drinks so there was a bit of a panic from hungry and thirsty people about hydration. But we salvaged the containers at our feet and filled them up at the water fountain.
When it was my turn to use the restroom, I went towards the women’s room. After all, according to the policies Trump supports, I have to use the restroom in accordance with my biological sex– even if most of the people at the rally had perceived me as male. But the moment I got to the door, a security guard steered me towards the men’s room and I went with it. I walked in and kept my phone pressed up to my chest to hide any hint of breasts there. Then slipped into a stall. I lived. It was fine.
What was not fine was what I witnessed when I returned to my seat. The speakers spoke with hostility and misinformation about the LGBTQ+ community. About me. Alina Habba, a senior advisor to Trump, provoked delightfully outraged cheers with her remark, “They don’t even know what a woman is; they’re sick.” Grant Cardone added fuel to the fire, accusing Harris of having “funded transgender surgeries,” labeling it one of her “insane policies” in a list of grievances.
Mike Johnson explicitly targeted “woke ideology.” Vivek Ramaswamy attempted to position his “America First” agenda as inclusive, stating that all Americans, regardless of gender or sexual orientation, should be free to marry whom they want. However, he swiftly pivoted to anti-trans sentiments, claiming, “that does not mean that boys get to compete with girls in girls’ sports,” and condemned “genital mutilation or chemical castration on our children.” Robert F. Kennedy echoed similar sentiments, declaring, “[The Democrat Party] is the party that is dismantling women’s sports by allowing men to play women’s sports,” despite evidence suggesting that trans women participating in high school sports are extremely rare—fewer than 100 nationwide. Tucker Carlson supported RFK’s anti-trans stance, laughing at his comments, which only further incited the crowd’s supportive shouting.
Throughout these discussions, whenever trans individuals were mentioned, the crowd erupted in loud boos and jeers. I heard chants of “Libtards! Libtards!” echo in the venue.
I gazed over the arena. Thousands of supporters. Happily hateful towards people they did not know. I was an invisible enemy amongst them. The wholehearted gusto of disgusted hollers rolled around the dome of MSG. Pouring over my flesh and searing into my heart. My ears rumbled at the shaking of the stands under chants of anti-trans solidarity. Under howls against pronouns and people who wanted self determination of identity. Even the person I had shared Twizzlers with broke his hand holding with his wife to clap. Each time one hand hit the other, it was if they struck me across the face.
He had no clue that he was sitting next to one of those “they/them”s. That he was actively applauding the eradication of the person he’s broken bread with.
The couple cuddled closely, and smiled when I made eye contact.
I wanted to cry. The duo had made me feel so welcome in so many ways. But the truth is, I was never really welcome. A lot of people will never really be welcome here.
But yet, the warm hearts were there, the potential to be kind. To share. To hold a conversation. To guard each other’s stuff in a toilet break. It was there– all the elements of what could be a connective loving dynamic. I wondered if they would still treat me the same if they knew I was the type of person they were booing?
David Rem, the next speaker who really stuck with me, was just an average New Yorker. He wasn’t a politician. He wasn’t a celebrity. He wasn’t a millionaire. He was just some guy.
He shared tearfully and with passion how in 1974, Donald Trump’s father, Fred, had paid the tuition of all three of his siblings during a difficult time. Giving them access to a future and a better chance at life. This man then said “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Trump is a generous man.”
While this incredible act of generosity from half a century ago was indeed magnanimous, I assessed the apple. Trump. I assessed the speakers. Not one of them talked about free education for other families.
What was the point of this story? To show that a relative of Trump’s was once kind with some of his millions? And while a beautiful act, what did this mean for Trump? Was he taking that spirit of care and applying it to all Americans? Pledging to ensure all people have access to an education?
I turned to Miranda and asked, since she really seemed knowledgeable about Trump’s policies. “Do You know if Trump is offering to pay for everyone’s tuition? Or was it just his father paying that person’s?”
She chuckled. “Trump wouldn’t be able to pay for everyone’s school. People should pay for it themselves.”
“But, if they can’t afford it, is Trump going to try to make sure they can go for free like those three kids did?” I asked.
Miranda explained that free education is socialism and that socialism leads to a lack of appreciation. She insisted that when people have to pay for their own education, they study more and fight harder. They appreciate the degree.
“So, the three kids Trump’s father put through school… do You think they weren’t grateful for the opportunity and got lower grades than they could’ve?”
“Oh no, no, no, clearly, they are grateful. They were grateful,” she said.
I didn’t have the energy in me to push harder to point out the hypocrisy and let it go.
What struck me about Rem, was he was the only average relatable New Yorker that Trump had brought out. The only one on the same income or employment level as the majority of attendees. And the crowd loved him. They gave a standing ovation, shared tears with him. The crowd was starved for this type of proof that their community would be platformed. And yet, this man wasn’t on stage saying his life was better because of Donald Trump’s policies. He was on stage because a relative, decades ago, bought his love with a charitable gift. A gift not to be extended to anyone else.
It didn’t feel like an endorsement from an average joe. It felt more like this man had won the lottery of life and was showing off the ticket. I was very happy for him, but I wasn’t impressed by the story. (It also turns out that he has given this same tearful speech many, many times. Like here. And here. And here.)
TRUMP SPEAKS
Trump was finally ready to speak, almost three hours later than originally scheduled. Melania Trump spoke before him, adored by the audience. So many yelled “You’re beautiful!” “We love You!” towards her.
Miranda said she felt a real kinship towards Melania because Melania had been so maligned and berated.
When Trump strode in– to “Proud to be an American”– the roof almost flew off the stadium. People had been waiting for this all day. “MARRY ME!” one person screamed. “USA! USA! USA!” the crowd roared.
Without much fussing about, he slowly took his place at the podium and began to address the crowd. He started off a bit long winded and Miranda said… “Oh, there he goes off on one of his side ideas again.”
Half an hour into the talk, the couple next to me excused themselves and said that they had to catch a bus. Turns out, a lot of people had bus or train restrictions and had to leave because the rally was running so late. Trump appeared like he was wrapping up several times. As a result, more attendees left. (Though Trump continued to speak and speak after his suggestions at a conclusion.)
It’s striking to observe that all these people gathered for a Trump rally without truly listening to what he had to say. Whether due to travel restrictions or the belief that his speech was over, this situation underscores a crucial point: it’s not really about what he says or does, but rather what he represents and what his supporters project onto him. In fact, I learned more about the beliefs driving his campaign from his supporters than I ever did from his speeches or ads.
“For the past nine years, we have been fighting against the most sinister and corrupt forces on Earth. With your vote in this election, you could show them once and for all that this nation does not belong to them. This nation belongs to you. It belongs to you,” Trump bellowed to a resounding echo of cheers. The people around me, I thought, really felt like they were fighting the good fight. They wanted their country back, whatever that meant.
I had a bit of an epiphany as I watched hundreds leave during his talk. Maybe Trump wasn’t so deeply loved as a person after all. Maybe, just maybe, some people had attended not to see Trump’s speech and connect with him as a candidate. Maybe they had attended, waited 6 hours in line and 6 hours in seats… to see each other. To gather and know they weren’t alone. Maybe it was about social solidarity– the majority of low and middle income hard working Americans– saying ‘We are tired of being screwed. We are tired of being alone.’
And perhaps, the more erratic and extreme the speakers were on stage, the more people felt that they themselves were more moderate or reasonable. That, in comparison, they were a bit more compassionate. A bit warmer. A bit more joyful.
Then, Trump went on with his speech and I had a different thought. A much more dangerous, insidious thought. If it wasn’t about community, could it be about being granted permission to think and say unkind things? In his speech, he hit all his typical notes. Guns, Immigrants, War, food, Harris, leftist extremists, the enemy from within. “On day one, I will launch the largest deportation program in American history to get these criminals out. I will rescue every city and town that has been invaded and conquered, and we will put these vicious and bloodthirsty criminals in jail. We’re going to kick them the hell out of our country as fast as possible,” he fear-mongered. He stood on a bullseye from his pulpit in front of thousands and said countless controversial statements. He didn’t blink. He didn’t blush. He didn’t apologize or cower. And the crowd witnessed him, seeing him get away with spewing such divisive dialogue. If Trump can make such brazen statements in front of thousands with no shame or interruption… then perhaps what he’s saying is not so shameful, the average viewer might think. Trump’s mouth is Pandora’s box and the ears of his listeners are Pandora. The more open they are, the more I fear they are corrupted by the enticement to say or do extreme hate-motivated things.
Trump went on to say “And as long as the Speaker of the House of Representatives is here, I would like to put forward a bill because I watched two months ago as some very bad people, radical left people, by the way, nothing happened to them in Washington, D. C. , burned our American flags. And I would like to suggest that we put in a bill. If you burn the American flag one year in jail, we will get critical race theory and transgender insanity the hell out of our school. And we will keep men out of women’s sports.”
I turned to Miranda, since most people had left the rally by this point in our area and I felt safer and said, “I fit under the trans umbrella, You know.”
Amidst the loud long cheering of anti-trans approval, she studied me for a bit. “But You know what Trump is saying right? You get what he really means?”
I just stared at her.
She continued, “I think it’s important for You to remember a political vote isn’t supposed to be a single issue vote. Sometimes we can’t be selfish in life, we have to think about the big picture. Our democracy is on the line. If Harris wins she might be nice to transgendered people but then she will also get us into world war three and rig voting for the next generations. You voting for Harris is sacrificing the long term needs of the people for short term comfort. Not every politician is perfect. There’s things I don’t like about the Republican party sometimes, but we just have to see what unites us. Right?”
“If I’m sacrificing the legality of my existence, what are You sacrificing by voting for Trump?” I asked.
“It’s not about me. It’s about the greater good,” she answered.
We sat the rest of the rally in silence together. When it was over, she stood and gave me a long hug. We thanked each other for the time and the sharing of snacks and drinks. I thanked her specifically for being gracious in her answers and letting me press her on questions. Then, she was gone.
LEAVING THE RALLY + Takeaway
In the hallways, the remaining masses eased out onto the street. Right before going through the main doors, people were checking in with each other, offering to walk elderly or disabled folks directly to their hotels in the case of protesters. People told each other that they should be vigilant on the subway in case of leftist antifa attacks. Those with Trump posters were advised to hide them under their jackets if going more than a few blocks. It felt like we were gearing up to enter a warzone.
But no protesters awaited us. Not a single person shouted or spat or held a sign in our direction. Everyone left without an issue.
I felt comfortable. Maybe even safe. I immediately went live on Instagram to tell the community that I had exited the event safely and successfully. While on livestream, I ran into one straggler MAGA man. He popped up and fist bumped me, “HOE-MALA RIGHT?”
“What?”
“HOE-MALA HARRIS. SLEPT HER WAY TO THE TOP!”
I was disheartened, to say the least. Perhaps I wasn’t as safe as I deluded myself into thinking.
Though I felt a lot of warmth and kindness from the people I met along the way, the truth is that, while they indeed seemingly often had felt they had good intentions, they still were willing to accept a little bit of sexism in order to get what they wanted. They were willing to tolerate a little bit of transphobia to get what they wanted. They were willing to overlook a little bit of racism to get what they wanted. They were willing to sacrifice us, in order to satisfy themselves. Seeing us as a worthy toss away for the “greater good.”
Two things were true at once. Many of these people were kind, and good – and willing to overlook evil committed by someone they felt could fix their problems.
When it comes to the question so vital to me personally which I had set out to answer– will I be safe if this administration comes to power? Will my friends and community? –The answer is a resounding no.
I fear that if this administration goes too far, people will not draw a line and prevent atrocities from occurring, just like they were silent and shifting their gaze to sports games when racism and transphobia were being spewed right in front of them. That crowd, for the most part, chose to remain frozen in place and dissociate from the salacious statements of so many speakers. Purring to the prayers of unity and non-divisiveness, while building a wall in their mind to keep out clear and obvious hypocritical statements against the desire to adhere to those concepts.
When I think of the first time Trump came to power, I remember being shocked to find right before the election that my father was a Trump supporter. I told him I felt that it was a direct betrayal and he told me that I wouldn’t lose any rights if Trump won. That it was all just lies and big PR. I asked him to swear to me that if Trump ever came for my rights such as gay marriage or the right to adopt, that he would be first in the streets to march with me against it. He laughed and said that those rights would never be overturned, but swore to me that he would be right there. Fist to the sky.
And now, with the election drawing near, I realize that it’s not impossible I will have to take him up on that oath. That I will have to ask him to help me undo the damage should it be done. And that terrifies me because I don’t know if it would be a promise he will deliver on. A nagging in my mind warns a heartbreaking no. But because of his loyal and salt of the earth nature, I give him the benefit of the doubt that he will.
I can say I don’t feel any time was wasted and that I’m happy I honored my parents’ teachings and listened to the “other” candidate and got amongst his followers. Even though I left surer than ever Trump would not be getting my vote, it inspired me to have a more realistic perspective about the road ahead in this nation.
I have to face the fact that perhaps most Trump supporters, ultimately, do not care about me and my community, regardless of how kind they were today. Some might greet us with accepting arms, but not with an accepting vote. Most aren’t moving towards understanding us. Sadly, many never will. But maybe, what we can do to bridge the gap between us and them, is to look at the critical issues of concern among most of the MAGA base… the economy. Inflation. Poor labor conditions. Poverty. Healthcare. Let the “other side” see us as individuals while we incorporate their legitimate concerns into our activism too. Reminding them that we DO care about farmer’s rights. Trucker’s rights. Teacher’s rights. Perhaps they will understand, as so many of us already do, that there is indeed an intersection between so many of these issues and the basic human rights sought by the LGBTQ+ community.
Many of You will read this and ask, why even spotlight Trump supporters?
Because they are human, and “they/them” aren’t going away.
I know that even attempting to connect with these people is a privilege, but for those of us who can, we need to roll up our sleeves, on behalf of future generations of our community members who desperately need a safer world than we have inherited, and do the work. Just because we don’t share the identity of one group doesn’t mean we don’t share a future.
Our history has proven our future is possible. We have gained far more ground and dignity in the past couple decades than we had for centuries. Through storytelling, protesting, holiday gatherings, newborn children, and showing up in times of hardship despite people’s prejudices against us… we’ve broken stigmas. We’ve gotten people to vote for our equalities. We’ve acquired lifesaving progress at such a fast pace. We’ve helped communities that intersect with and extend far beyond our own. So for now, do your part and get out and vote. Then continue learning, connecting, and organizing. We can’t stop now.
Rain Dove is a nonbinary LGBTQ+ advocate and humanitarian worker. They are the director and creator of Safebow, an organization dedicated to providing aid and safe passage for marginalized individuals in crisis-affected communities including Gaza, Ukraine Uganda, Venezuela, and Iran. An active model, Rain has collaborated with brands like Calvin Klein and is known for challenging traditional gender norms while promoting nonbinary visibility. A popular and engaging speaker, Rain has presented on topics of gender identity, social justice, and LGBTQ+ rights, emphasizing the importance of amplifying voices from vulnerable communities.
Rain Dove has not yet endorsed Kamala Harris or any third party candidate.
We feel it is important to acknowledge that GO Magazine proudly endorses candidates Kamala Harris and Tim Walz for President and Vice president of the United States. We endorse Vice President Harris based on her stance on the issues we strongly feel most significantly impact the LGBTQ+ community as well as our country as a whole. We support her stated platform, which includes safeguarding civil rights and liberties, fighting for and obtaining tax cuts for middle-class families, making rent more affordable and homeownership more attainable, growing small businesses and investing in entrepreneurs, strengthening and reducing the cost of healthcare, restoring and protecting reproductive freedoms, protecting and enhancing Social Security and Medicare, supporting American innovation and workers, providing a pathway to the middle class through quality, affordable education, investing in affordable childcare and long-term care, lowering energy costs and tackling the climate crisis, supporting and strengthening our military, focusing on the needs of service members, veterans, their families, caregivers, and survivors, making our communities safer from gun violence and crime, securing our borders and fixing our broken immigration system, addressing the opioid and fentanyl crisis, standing up to dictators, and leading on the world stage.
