You are viewing this post: Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter Meet The Politician On Instagram? Top Answer Update
Are you looking for an answer to the topic “Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter Meet The Politician On Instagram“? We answer all your questions at the website Bangkokbikethailandchallenge.com in category: Bangkokbikethailandchallenge.com/digital-marketing. You will find the answer right below.
Keep Reading
Glenn Youngkin, a Republican candate for governor of Virginia, is a father of one wife and three sons and one daughter.
Glenn Youngkin wants to be Virginia’s next governor.
The Republic candate will face Democratic candate Terry McAuliffe in Virginia’s 2021 gubernatorial election.
Before entering politics, Glenn worked for the Carlyle Group for 25 years and became Chief Executive Officer.
In 2020, Youngkin resigned from the post of CEO. The former executive director announced his candacy for the 2021 gubernatorial election in Virginia in January 2021.
The 54-year-old was born on December 9, 1966 in Richmond, Virginia, USA.
The Republican is a hardworking indivual whose first job was washing dishes and frying eggs.
He later went to Rice University to receive an engineering degree and an MBA from Harvard Business School.
Who Is Glenn Youngki Daughter?
Glenn Youngkin has three sons and one daughter with his wife Suzanne.
Glenn’s family helps with his campaign. The family attends various Republican events and rallies.
Unfortunately, the name of his daughter is still unknown to this day.
There is no article mentioning or talking about his daughter.
In the family photo, Youngkin’s daughter appears to be between the ages of 15 and 25.
His daughter is not available on any social media. We can only find his two tags in his post, not the daughter.
Does Glenn Youngkin Support Gay Marriage?
Glenn Youngkin is opposed to gay marriage and does not support same-sex marriage equality.
advertisement
Youngkin is a devoted Christian. In an interview, when asked if his beliefs shaped his view of gay marriage, he replied that he called for love for everyone.
And when asked for a straight answer on whether or not he supports gay marriage, he bluntly replied no.
His proposal Terry McAuliffe has attacked him, accusing him of supporting the far-right agenda.
However, the Republican candate only expressed his personal views based on his beliefs. There is no evence or credible evence that he is associated with the far right.
Glenn Youngkin Net Worth
Glenn Youngkin’s estimated net worth is $440 million, according to Forbes.
The former CEO of the Carlyle Group was responsible for running a $230 billion investment firm.
Youngkin has raised $42.3 million for the upcoming election. It is estimated that he brings in nearly 40% of the amount himself.
The millionaire gubernatorial candate owns a 2% stake in Carlyle.
The candate spends about 4% of his mass wealth on the campaign trail.
Meet Glenn Youngkin Family on Instagram
Glenn Youngkin’s family includes his beautiful wife Suzanne and their four children.
Youngkin is quite active on social media, especially Instagram. He uses Insta to connect with his constituents and promote his campaign.
The 54-year-old has more than 14.1k followers and has posted to it 644 times.
In addition to the campaign photos, he also regularly uploads pictures of his family to the platform.
The family of the gubernatorial candates is also supportive of his campaign, as they regularly attend Republican events and rallies with him.
Face The Nation: Youngkin, Raskin, Holder
Images related to the topicFace The Nation: Youngkin, Raskin, Holder
See some more details on the topic Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter Meet The Politician On Instagram here:
Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter? Meet The Politician On …
Glenn Youngkin， a Republican candate for Virginia Governor， is a family man with a wife and three sons， and a daughter.Glenn Youngkin is in the race …
Source: 44bars.com
Date Published: 2/30/2021
View: 8699
Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter? Meet His Children On …
Meet His Children On Instagram. Politician Glenn Youngkin has four children including one daughter whose name is Anna Youngkin.
Source: www.zgr.net
Date Published: 8/14/2022
View: 5126
Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter??, Family Net Worth …
Meet The Politician On Instagram … Glenn Youngkin, a Republican candate for Virginia Governor, … Who Is Glenn Youngki Daughter?
Source: mixedarticle.com
Date Published: 4/4/2021
View: 6597
The Education of Glenn Youngkin – TIME
His daughter, a high school freshman, alleged that a male mate wearing a skirt had sexually assaulted her in a school bathroom. The boy had …
Source: time.com
Date Published: 4/5/2022
View: 4335
The Education of Glenn Youngkin
Glenn Youngkin is the kind of person who, when asked if he knows how to do nae nae, takes it on as a challenge. On a Thursday afternoon in late April, the Republican governor of Virginia tours CodeRVA, a diverse high school for students interested in tech careers — the kind of place Youngkin argues could be the linchpin of his conservative education agenda . Craig Butts, a 17-year-old senior, shows the Governor his creation: a Super Mario-inspired video game that shows the relative sizes of the planets in the solar system. Then he cleverly asks the question.
“Can I nae nae? No,” admits Youngkin. Then an idea occurs to him, and his big, smooth, plastic face lights up: “Can you show me how to do nae nae?”
Politicians should know better than to dance in public, a rule perhaps especially true for a lanky 55-year-old white man in a preppy suit and tie. employees groan; the First Lady grimaces; The lieutenant governor yells, “Don’t do it!” But Youngkin bravely plants his feet, raises a hand, and performs a few hip flicks while Butts gives an impromptu hip-hop dance lesson. Before continuing, Youngkin mutters what could be his signature line: “How much fun!”
Agreeable, fun-loving, ready for anything: It’s hard not to like Youngkin, a trait largely responsible for his sudden political fame. The previously unknown private equity CEO burst onto the country’s political stage with his unlikely victory here last November. In a blue trending state that went 10 points ahead of President Biden in 2020 and where Republicans hadn’t won nationally since 2009, Youngkin not only prevailed but carried the entire GOP ticket with him and invigorated his party in a place where she had been left for dead.
His victory was a glimmer of hope for a national Republican party that is still tattered and nursing its Donald Trump-era wounds. Advisors across the country raved about the “Youngkin Model.” Donors asked him to run for president. “He was the right candidate at the right time for us in Virginia as a Republican,” Eric Cantor, a former House Majority Leader who represented a Richmond-area district, tells me. “He’s obviously spoken to voters in a way Republicans haven’t in quite some time, and I think he’s someone who has leadership qualities that could go national.”
Youngkin’s victory was a frustrating turn of events for Democrats, who were certain Trump had trapped the GOP in an impossible double bind. Any Republican candidate who did not pledge allegiance to the former president, it was reasoned, would lose grassroots support. But voicing her support for Trump would force her to answer for his lies and racism, making her toxic to independents and Democrats alike. Yet Youngkin has been able to have it both ways, touting Trump’s endorsement while striking a very different tone. Despite attempts by Democrats to link him to the Jan. 6 riots and the deadly 2017 white supremacist march in Charlottesville, Youngkin’s share of the minority vote was unprecedented for a Virginia Republican: according to one exit, he won the majority of the Asian and Hispanic voters poll by Cygnal as well as 27% of black voters. (TV stations’ exit poll showed lower percentages.) He improved Trump’s performance in the affluent, highly educated D.C. suburbs. in Northern Virginia while beating Trump’s margins and turnout in deep red rural areas. “The truth is, Youngkin isn’t a Trump-like character at all — it shows,” said Larry Sabato of the University of Virginia. “If Republicans can pull that off in other states, that’s a blueprint, but it might not be transferrable.”
The central theme of the campaign was education. Parents have been uneasy after COVID-related school closures, which lasted well into 2021 in many population centers, something the state’s Democratic leadership didn’t seem particularly keen to address. The confusion of the pandemic exacerbated ongoing controversies over schools’ handling of gender and race issues, the role of testing and charter schools. Democrats have long been considered the stronger party on education, but Youngkin turned the tables by highlighting local controversies and promising to give parents more control — a message that resonated particularly after his opponent, former Democratic Gov. Terry McAuliffe, in a debate, said, “I don’t think parents should be telling schools what to teach.”
Now that Youngkin is attempting to govern for the first time, he continues to prioritize education. He has taken a series of aggressive measures – from introducing masks in schools to rooting out critical racial theories – while increasing funding and teacher pay. It’s a new, populist-conservative approach to the issue that Republicans hope could erode the Democrats’ longstanding advantage. Whether he makes it will determine whether he can succeed as a new breed of Republican and possibly initiate a partisan realignment. It could also make him a 2024 presidential nominee, which Republicans both inside and outside his orbit see as increasingly likely.
That is, if Trump doesn’t get in the way. “What the Republican Party did didn’t work in Virginia, so we had to do something different,” Youngkin tells me, folding his six-foot frame into the center row of a black SUV that pulls away from CodeRVA. “I had to bring the Forever Trumpers and the Never Trumpers together. I’ve fought in places Republicans haven’t fought. And if you go and listen to people — actually sitting around the table in their kitchens and listening — what you find are these issues around education, public safety, taxes, and a government that actually works for us — that’s what all Virginians want .” All of that, he says, was more important to voters than any association with “any other political figure,” his habitual euphemism for Trump.
Still, I note that Trump remains the undisputed leader of the GOP and is not afraid to impose his will on the candidates and the party’s agenda. “You know, I really appreciated President Trump’s support,” Youngkin replies. “With great respect to everyone else, I am the leader of the Republican Party in Virginia.”
Youngkin tries to break new ground for his education party Lexey Swall for TIME
Inside the State Library and Archive, a modern, light-filled building in central Richmond, Youngkin is expecting a crowd — half black tweens in T-shirts and half adults in suits. The children are students at nearby Martin Luther King Jr. Middle School, where the principal says 95% of the student body comes from five surrounding housing projects. Youngkin is here to sign the Virginia Literacy Act, a bipartisan law to standardize reading instruction in the first grades, collect and publish data on literacy rates, and provide reading tutors for lagging students.
The legislation came about when delegate Carrie Coyner, a Republican from a Richmond county, discovered that Virginia had been collecting reading data on kindergarteners by second graders for decades but had not released it publicly. Coyner requested the data and was shocked to find that as of fall 2021, 42% of the state’s second graders were below the reading benchmark. Part of the shortage was clearly due to the pandemic. But even before COVID-19, the number was close to 30%. Meanwhile, the Commonwealth was spending tens of millions on healing specialists who, the data showed, weren’t moving the needle.
Everything about the scene in the library communicates diversity, tolerance, concern for the disadvantaged – Youngkin’s hoped-for big tent. He is led by Lt. gov. Winsome Earle-Sears, a Republican who is the first black woman ever to be elected nationally, and who says her education allowed her to break free from poor single motherhood. “Our governor is also someone who came out of nowhere,” she says. “And if he hadn’t had a good education, young people, he wouldn’t have made it either.”
Principal, Inett Dabney, explains that the middle school has only one reading specialist for its 508 students, of whom only a third can read and three-fourths are under grade. “We shouldn’t need a reading specialist in middle school,” says Dabney. “We can’t educate our students as usual.”
Read more: What Democrats need to learn from Youngkin’s victory in Virginia
That’s how, Youngkin claims, Virginia’s education system was when it started: Highly regarded but slipping, thanks in part to a complacent leadership that preferred to sweep problems under the rug — and throw good money after bad — rather than accept them and shut them down solve . “Virginians spoke clearly. Parents have made it clear that they want to have a say in their children’s education,” he said before signing both versions of the bill, one by the Republican-majority House of Representatives and the other by the Democratic-majority Senate.
That sense of control Youngkin promised to give back to weary parents. After COVID-19 closed schools in spring 2020, Virginia left individual districts to make their own decisions about whether and how to reopen. Most rural counties did this fall, but the urban and suburban counties, where most of the state’s population resides, did not. In suburban Fairfax County — one of the largest counties in the country with nearly 200,000 students — schools remained virtual until spring 2021, when they reopened with in-person classes for just two days a week. The county teachers’ union successfully lobbied to get teachers first on the COVID-19 vaccines – and still refused to return to classes once they became available.
School closures have turned families and careers upside down. However, Democratic Gov. Ralph Northam largely declined to interfere, citing a preference for local autonomy. (Republicans claimed it had more to do with not wanting to take on teachers’ unions, a key part of Democrats’ funding base.) Most local governments also poked about, leaving school boards — generally part-time bodies of little-known local activists — behind. to make some of the toughest decisions of the pandemic.
The enforced homeschooling that led to virtual districts also gave parents greater insight into their children’s classroom experience. And it coincided with school systems’ ongoing struggle to respond to issues of race and gender identity. “Families didn’t agree with what had happened in our schools over the last few years, and parents didn’t agree with the lack of options for their children during COVID,” says Coyner. “When parents needed to have a virtual school in their homes, it opened their eyes to what was and wasn’t really happening in the classroom.”
Nowhere in Virginia, and perhaps nowhere in America, has this situation been more explosive than in Loudoun County, an ultra-rich, horse-rich D.C. suburb. The county’s long-simmering school board conflicts drew national attention in June 2021 when a local father named Scott Smith attended a local school board meeting to try and get answers. His daughter, a high school freshman, claimed that a male classmate wearing a skirt sexually assaulted her in a school restroom. The boy had moved to another school while authorities investigated. But when Smith spoke up at the June 22 meeting, the superintendent told him there was no record of an attack. Smith became distressed and began screaming and cursing. He was thrown to the ground by the county sheriff’s deputies, dragged out, and arrested for disorderly conduct.
Video of the arrest went viral and was taken out of context as an example of runaway conservatives attacking local officials for simply trying to do their job. The National School Boards Association included the incident in a September letter to the White House, calling for federal support over the “growing number of threats of violence and acts of intimidation” over masking policies and “propaganda promoting the incorrect incorporation of critical race theory into the teaching,” bat and syllabuses,” which she described as “domestic terrorism.” Attorney General Merrick Garland immediately announced an investigation. Smith received a suspended sentence of 10 days in prison. In October, the boy who allegedly assaulted his daughter carried out another alleged assault at his new school while wearing an ankle monitor, authorities said.
Smith’s case became a right-wing célèbre in part because of his allegation that his daughter’s alleged attacker wore a skirt. The Loudoun County school board was considering a controversial new policy for transgender students at the time that would allow them to use gender-consistent bathrooms and require teachers to use students’ preferred pronouns. The policy had not been approved at the time of Smith’s daughter’s alleged attack, and Smith himself never claimed that his daughter’s alleged attacker was “genderfluid” or trans. But the Conservatives picked it up anyway.
These controversies engulfed a school board already grappling with racial issues. In 2019, a re-enactment of the Underground Railroad at a Loudoun elementary school prompted protests from the local NAACP, which prompted the school board to award the California-based Equity Collaborative a $500,000 no-bid contract. (Independent journalist Matt Taibbi, who has extensively covered the Loudoun riots, obtained the commission through a public inquiry.) Based on the resulting “scrutiny,” the board released a 14-minute video in which it spoke out against racism pardoned and eliminated the standard—county selective high school testing requirements and mandatory bias training for all employees. The training included materials such as a chart dividing students into categories of privilege and oppression, and an animated video titled Odd Odds Race, which showed a relay race with white racers handing money to each other. while the black and brown racers are prevented from reaching their destination by obstacles. At the time of the school board meeting where Smith filed his complaint, opposing groups of parents had been at odds over the new diversity curriculum for months. The fire drew coverage from Fox News to the New York Times.
For the right, “loudoun” has become a catchphrase for runaway bureaucrats who indoctrinate children with extreme “awake” ideas. For the left, the situation represented the right’s opposition to progress and fixation on cultural enmity. But for many parents of all stripes, these overlapping controversies — about reopening, about masks, about transgender issues, about race, about testing — contributed to a sense that school was no longer necessarily a safe place for their children and that there was little they could do about it.
“What ties it all together is a disdain for parental involvement,” says Rory Cooper, a Republican adviser whose three children attend Fairfax public schools. “If you saw a school council meeting in 2021, whatever the topic, it was very clear that parents were not welcome in that room. It was like, ‘Sit down, shut up, we’re the experts’.”
When Cooper’s children’s elementary school resumed face-to-face instruction, children who had missed years of socialization got into fights in the playground (where the monkey bars were covered with CAUTION tape), but parents who volunteered to be recess watchers were rejected. A Little League practice was interrupted by a “car parade” by teacher activists who had decorated their vehicles with caskets, tombstones and fake blood. “We’re trying to figure out how to get kids back to normal, and schools seemed to buck parents at every turn,” says Cooper, an anti-Trump conservative who was a member of a local parents’ group that advocated for the school Reopened but stayed out of the culture war issues. “Even with school returning five days a week, parents were unsure if their children were in a positive learning environment. But schools didn’t seem bothered to take serious steps to reverse the damage of the past two years.”
Into this volatile stew of screaming parents, embattled officials, and traumatized children jumped Glenn Youngkin, a man who looks as if he would scarcely threaten a local school board member as if he were about to shoot an elephant in the middle of Fifth Avenue. Former CEO of private equity firm Carlyle Group, Youngkin has been a longtime donor to national Republican causes and candidates, if not Trump. He had never been particularly involved in Virginia politics. “We did our first survey in December 2020 and I had 2% name identification,” Youngkin tells me as we ride between events. “And the error rate on the survey was 3%.”
Born in Richmond, Youngkin grew up at the precarious end of the middle class to a mother who was a registered nurse and a father who was frequently unemployed. When he was a teenager, his family moved to Virginia Beach, and he washed dishes at a boardwalk restaurant to make ends meet. Childhood friends describe him as effortlessly popular and mature beyond his years, the kind of kid who gets good grades, leads the team and charms adults. “Usually the best athlete on the team is a guy who’s cocky and tough on his teammates, but he puts his hand on your back and lets you know he supports you,” says Brad Hobbs, a lifelong friend and top campaign donor , and former teammate on the state championship basketball team at the private school that Youngkin attended on need-based scholarship.
Youngkin received a Division I basketball scholarship to Rice University in Houston, which he chose in part because of its proximity to NASA’s Johnson Space Center. He had always dreamed of going into space and wrote his thesis about a lunar space station. However, both career dreams died in college: he was too tall to be an astronaut and didn’t have what it took to play pro ball. After graduating, he attended Harvard Business School and then pursued a 25-year career at Carlyle, a Washington-based leveraged buyout firm. Youngkin helped take the company public, rose to co-CEO, and amassed a fortune of around $470 million, according to Forbes.
Youngkin had not been particularly religious before he met his 28-year-old wife, Suzanne, a Texan who made serious Christianity a condition of their marriage. (She knew from the start that being married to him would be an adventure, Suzanne Youngkin tells me: as part of their premarital counseling, they took a personality test that showed him to be “simply extroverted.”) The couple raised four children in Great Falls, a leafy suburb of D.C. But when the Episcopal Church broke up over gay marriage and the ordination of women, many congregations seceded from the denomination. The Youngkins left St. John’s and started a new, independent community in their basement in 2010. Holy Trinity Church – which now has its own building thanks to an $11 million donation from the Youngkins – blends Anglican traditions with charismatic evangelicalism. One liberal critic, historian of religion Diana Butler Bass, has described the resulting ethos as “right-wing social activism grounded in a nostalgic nostalgia for a Christian America and elitist Republican social mores.”
Read more: How early voting helped Glenn Youngkin
As Youngkin entered the gubernatorial race, it looked like it was going to be an uphill battle. He joined a crowded field of better-known candidates vying for the nomination through a complicated congressional process. The format — which changed for months as state GOP officials squabbled — caused his advisers to have fits and forced the campaign to be creative. “Every day from March to May was a new deadline,” says Youngkin’s campaign strategist Kristin Davison.
It helped that Youngkin poured tens of millions of his personal fortune into the effort. When the state convention was held in May — a leaderboard vote held simultaneously in 39 venues — Youngkin’s was the only campaign to provide each of its delegates with a kit that included groceries, a water bottle, a hat, a sign, and a set of written instructions . After 12 hours of counting, Youngkin secured the nomination in the sixth round of voting. Trump, who had taken no position on the primaries, endorsed it the next day.
In the general election, Youngkin was a vigorous and disciplined campaigner who was difficult to pin down on issues. He only admitted after the GOP primary that Biden had won the presidency and was caught secretly recording telling activists he had to be coy about his anti-abortion position in order not to upset suburban residents. Davison says the campaign was careful not to “run a primary campaign that would lose a general election.” For example, Youngkin expressed enthusiasm for the Second Amendment but did not seek NRA approval. “It was one of those issues that people in Northern Virginia were uncomfortable with, so we didn’t want to lock ourselves into positions that Democrats could smack us with in the fall,” Davison says.
Youngkin, right, debates former Virginia Gov. Terry McAuliffe with Win McNamee in Alexandria, Virginia in September – Getty Images
Youngkin’s campaign saw potential in education early on. His first post-convention campaign stop was with the Loudoun County School Board. He called Scott Smith and thanked him for getting up. Then, at a Sept. 28 debate, McAuliffe made his soon-infamous slip, going against parental input — a soundbite Youngkin would feature in numerous ads.
Throughout the campaign, Democrats have insisted that Youngkin is Trump in sheep’s clothing and that the educational issues he highlights are myths that propagate grievances — particularly critical race theory, a term the right has adopted as shorthand for equality-based diversity dogma. Liberals and many in the media dismissed CRT as a college-level legal theory that they claim is not taught in K-12 schools, rather than grappling with the legions of examples of children across the country, those from the earliest grades of racist essentialism. For example, in January, an English class at a Fairfax County high school played a game of bingo titled “Identifying Your Privilege” with spaces such as “White”, “Male”, “Cisgender”, “Christian”, “Feel Safe Around Cops”. ‘ and ‘Military Kid’. .” (Of course, there are absurdities and outright racism on the other side of the debate, too. Youngkin ran a campaign ad featuring a white mother who complained about the “explicit material” her child was exposed to; it turns out her son, a high school senior, had been assigned to Toni Morrison’s mistress.)
While previous generations were taught that America’s highest ideal was equality—the land of immigrants where everyone has equal rights and opportunities, at least in theory—many public schools today instruct students to look, believing that the Races are inevitably locked in hierarchies of privilege inward and chastised by contemplation of their own undeserved advantages. Even a policy that is neutral or color-blind on paper is by definition racist in this thinking if it leads to unjust outcomes. Many of the nation’s most prestigious schools have scrapped admissions tests over controversial claims that the tests are biased — including public high school ranked No. 1 in the country by US News, Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology in Alexandria, Virginia, where exam-based admission had produced a student body that was more than 70% Asian. The state abolished the test, provoking a revolt and lawsuits from Asian parents. Similar controversies have recently unfolded in cities like Boston and San Francisco, where they contributed to the dismissal of several school board members this spring.
The pursuit of justice has been particularly aggressive in Virginia, where Northam, a rural East Coast doctor, admitted in early 2019 to having worn a black face in his youth after a decades-old racist yearbook photo surfaced. Northam rejected calls for his resignation and instead dedicated the remainder of his term to advocating racial progress, prompting The New York Times to declare him the “most racially progressive governor in the state’s history.” His efforts included appointing the country’s first cabinet-level commissioner for diversity, equity and inclusion and driving a comprehensive reassessment of educational standards and outcomes. Under a proposal critics accused, mathematics classes in secondary schools would have been abolished in the name of racial justice. (The proposal was never implemented.) The state’s EdEquityVA plan was said to “reaffirm our commitment to eliminating all forms of injustice in Virginia’s public education system.” It recommended “anti-racist” resources, including Robin DiAngelo’s White Fragility and the textbook Foundations of Critical Race Theory in Education.
That’s what Youngkin says he hoped to eradicate — the erosion of standards in the name of equality, the dividing of students into groups based on race. “Let’s teach our entire history, the good and the bad,” he tells me, repeating a mantra from the campaign. “Let’s not run away – let’s run to him. But let’s not say that someone is inherently racist. We will not have privilege bingo in the classroom. And we can do both.” Liberals might argue that trying to teach the realities of race in America without questioning systemic racism creates an unresolvable tension. But for parents of all races, exhausted by the tense debate and feeling stunned by the left’s insistence that it didn’t exist, this sounded like a reasonable middle ground. Youngkin „hat herausgefunden, wie man die Energie nutzbar macht“, sagt Tucker Martin, ein unabhängiger republikanischer Berater aus Richmond, „ohne von der Energie geschädigt zu werden.“
In den letzten Wochen des Wahlkampfs schickten die Demokraten ihre größten Waffen, um die Wahlbeteiligung zu erhöhen. Der frühere Präsident Obama beklagte „falsch erfundene Kulturkriege, diese falsche Empörung, mit der rechte Medien hausieren gehen, um ihre Quoten zu verbessern“. Präsident Biden warnte: „Extremismus kann viele Formen annehmen. Es kann in der Wut eines Mobs kommen, der getrieben wird, um das Kapitol anzugreifen; es kann ein Lächeln und eine Fleeceweste sein.“ McAuliffe sendete eine Anzeige, die Youngkin an den 6. Januar bindet, und das Anti-Trump-Lincoln-Projekt schickte Mitarbeiter mit roten Hüten und Tiki-Fackeln zu einer Youngkin-Veranstaltung, um die Wähler an den Aufstand in Charlottesville zu erinnern. Die Demokraten jubelten, als Trump im Oktober zu einer „Take Back Virginia“-Veranstaltung aufrief, die von seinem ehemaligen Berater Steve Bannon geleitet wurde, bei der die Teilnehmer einer amerikanischen Flagge, die am 6. Januar von den Randalierern des Kapitols getragen wurde, die Treue schworen. (Youngkin, der nicht dabei war Anwesenheit, gab umgehend eine Erklärung ab, in der er die Geste als „seltsam und falsch“ bezeichnete.)
„So sehr die Demokratische Partei und die Progressiven versuchen, ihn als Extremisten hinzustellen, es dauert zwei Minuten in seiner Gegenwart, um zu erkennen, dass das einfach nicht stimmt“, sagt Youngkins Sekretär des Commonwealth, Kay Coles James, der schwarze ehemalige Präsident der Konservativen Erbstiftung. „Eines der Dinge, die mich an Glenn Youngkin angezogen haben, war, dass er einer der wenigen Politiker war, die über Rassenangelegenheiten in einer überzeugenden und mitfühlenden Weise und ohne den Wunsch, die Geschichte zu verbergen, sprachen. Die Republikaner haben diese Probleme in der Vergangenheit schlecht gehandhabt. Wir können die Wahrheit darüber sagen, was in diesem Land passiert ist – alles – ohne Schuldzuweisungen zu machen oder zu versuchen, den Menschen Schuldgefühle einzuflößen. Ich weiß nicht, warum das für die Leute so schwer zu verstehen ist.“
Bei seinem Amtsantritt im Januar erließ Youngkin eine Reihe von bildungsorientierten Durchführungsverordnungen. Erstens verfügte er, dass die Eltern und nicht die örtlichen Beamten entscheiden sollten, ob ihre Kinder in der Schule Masken tragen. Zweitens ordnete er eine Untersuchung „spaltender Konzepte, einschließlich der Critical Race Theory“ an öffentlichen Schulen an und richtete eine spezielle E-Mail-Adresse für Eltern ein, um anstößige Vorfälle zu melden. Drittens wies er den Generalstaatsanwalt – den Republikaner Jason Miyares, den ersten landesweit gewählten Latino – an, die Kontroversen in Loudoun zu untersuchen.
Für die Demokraten wurde dies als aggressiv und extrem registriert. Youngkin entfernte Maskenmandate zu einer Zeit, als die Omicron-Welle ihren Höhepunkt erreichte; Einige Schulen hatten Probleme beim Betrieb, weil so viele Lehrer in Quarantäne waren. Die Anordnung der „spaltenden Konzepte“ deutete den Gegnern an, dass Youngkin die Kulturkriege verdoppeln würde, im Widerspruch zu seinem Antrittsgelübde, „die Wunden der Spaltung zu verbinden“ und „eine gemeinsame Sache für das Gemeinwohl zu finden“. Der E-Mail-Posteingang wurde als „Tippzeile“ für „Spitze“ gebrandmarkt, um über die armen, belagerten Lehrer ihrer Kinder zu plappern, und Witzbolde bewarfen ihn mit Witzen und Pornografie. Als Youngkin, unzufrieden mit dem Tempo der Reformen in Loudoun, später vorschlug, das Landesgesetz zu ändern, um alle neun Schulvorstandsmitglieder zusätzlich zu ihren normalen gestaffelten Wahlen in ungeraden Jahren auf die Wahlurne dieses Novembers zu setzen, beschuldigten die Demokraten ihn, sich in die Demokraten einzumischen Prozess, um politische Punkte zu sammeln. Ein Gesetzgeber eines Bundesstaates verglich den Gouverneur mit dem russischen Präsidenten Wladimir Putin, und sogar ein Republikaner stimmte dagegen und beendete die Maßnahme.
„Wenn Sie das Band zu seiner Wahlkampfzeit zurückspulen, das Bild, das er darstellte, haben viele Virginians jetzt das Gefühl, dass sie nicht wissen, wer der echte Glenn Youngkin war“, sagt die Abgeordnete Eileen Filler-Corn, das ehemalige Repräsentantenhaus der Demokraten Führer. „Er hat vom ersten Tag an seine extreme Agenda gezeigt.“ Filler-Corn beschrieb die Ordnung der „spaltenden Konzepte“ als „wirklich versuchen, einen Schritt zurückzutreten und die Geschichte im Grunde zu beschönigen, Ängste vor der ‚kritischen Rassentheorie‘ zu schüren, was auch immer das ist – existiert sie überhaupt?“ Sie sieht die Wahl von Youngkin nicht als eine Art Vorreiter. „Viele Dinge haben national eine Rolle gespielt“, erzählt sie mir. „Wir waren gerade mit historischem Gegenwind konfrontiert.“ (Im April entfernten andere Demokraten Filler-Corn aufgrund von Vorwürfen im Wahlkampf 2021 abrupt als ihren Anführer im Repräsentantenhaus.)
Die Demokraten führen nicht nur Youngkins Bildungspolitik an, sondern auch einige Verfahrensschritte im Baseball als Beweis dafür, dass er nicht der Uniter ist, für den er sich ausgibt. After the Democratic Senate blocked his appointment of former Trump EPA chief Andrew Wheeler to a position in Virginia’s Cabinet, Youngkin retaliated by trying to block more than 1,000 pending appointments made by Northam to state boards and commissions, including the state Teacher of the Year. (He later mostly relented.) He then signed only the House versions of six bipartisan measures while vetoing the Senate versions, all of which happened to have been sponsored by the Democratic Senator who’d blocked Wheeler’s appointment.
“He’s pleasant enough,” Democratic Sen. Jennifer McClellan, who co-sponsored Coyner’s literacy bill, tells me. “But, you know, he has picked some fights unnecessarily.” McClellan described such moves as rookie mistakes that made it harder to reach across the aisle, and said Youngkin has been less engaged with legislators than his predecessors in both parties. Despite a $14 billion state surplus, Youngkin and the legislature were deadlocked for months over the budget, as Democrats opposed his bid to suspend the commonwealth’s gas tax and Youngkin insisted they were playing politics to deny him a win.
On June 21, Youngkin signed the budget agreement legislators had negotiated, which passed both houses by broad bipartisan margins. He did not get his gas-tax holiday, but he got more than $4 billion in tax cuts, including a near-doubling of the standard income-tax deduction and a partial elimination of the grocery tax. Democrats also got a tax rebate for low-income families that they had long sought. The two-year budget gives teachers a 10% pay raise, increases police and university funding, and is the largest education budget in state history, adjusted for inflation. “It’s absolutely a win for him,” says House Speaker Todd Gilbert, a Republican from a rural Central Virginia district.
Gilbert praises Youngkin for not backing down from the sensitive issues he promised to address in the campaign. “A lot of us have been pleasantly surprised by his engagement on things that other people might shy away from—issues of cultural sensitivity,” Gilbert tells me. “On topics around our public schools especially, sometimes you see politicians disengage on tough issues when the election is over, but he has not done that. He realizes that how he got here was by speaking truth on very difficult issues that caused people to shriek on the other side.”
Youngkin’s “tip line” has not led to a new era of teacher McCarthyism. The state’s history curriculum continues to include robust discussion of Virginia’s Indigenous history, slavery and its role in causing the Civil War, the Civil Rights movement, and racism in America. (Disclosure: my three children attend Virginia public schools.) To the chagrin of some on the far right, Youngkin has not moved to reinstate the many Confederate statues and place names that Virginia has removed in recent years. The mask-optional order was met with outcry and lawsuits when Youngkin issued it, but the controversy cooled when, a few weeks later, the Democratic governors of New Jersey and Delaware also lifted their school mask mandates. In February, the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention followed, changing its guidance to no longer recommend masks be required in K-12 schools in areas with lower COVID levels.
Youngkin’s position on masks had quickly become bipartisan and mainstream. But at the time, he had appeared to be stepping out on a limb, and I ask whether he worried things could go the other way. “I never felt we were doing something that was risky,” Youngkin says, because of the scientific evidence. “What I felt was that for every child, the decision was unique, and parents should be empowered to make that decision. And I did feel that there was a real moment where common sense prevailed.”
Youngkin discusses his first 100 days in office at the UTurn community center in Richmond Lexey Swall for TIME
Youngkin finishes his day at UTurn, a faith-based sports academy and nonprofit incubator in inner-city Richmond. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and the sound of ricocheting basketballs as he perches on a high chair, flanked by his wife and Calvin Duncan, a pastor and former local basketball star. He’s here to celebrate his first 100 days in office, and his staff has prepared a snazzy highlight video, but Youngkin declares he’d rather listen than talk and throws it open to the small audience for Q-and-A.
This quickly proves to be a mistake, as a more experienced politician might have expected. The questioners include an anti-vaxxer grateful that Youngkin lifted the state’s mandates, a constituent concerned with declining masculinity in society, and a woman with a grievance against a local judge. Youngkin listens patiently to their diatribes, none of which have much to do with the policy agenda he’s here to tout.
Critics argue the governor has been more lucky than good. He barely won the election thanks to an unusually structured primary and a favorable political climate. As governor, fortune continues to favor him. Unemployment in Virginia is just 3%. Covid is receding from the public mind. The state is flush with cash. As time goes on, Youngkin will be forced to take sides on other divisive issues: in the wake of the Supreme Court’s overturning of Roe v. Wade, Youngkin has called for Virginia to ban abortions after 15 weeks except in cases of rape, incest or maternal life risk. “I think in his own mind he recognizes how lucky he had to be to win,” UVA’s Sabato says. “The basic disconnect is just that his views really don’t fit the new Virginia.”
Like many political observers, Sabato believes Youngkin is angling for a presidential run, and a member of Youngkin’s inner circle tells me the conditions look increasingly favorable: “The rest of the potential field has a brash Trump style,” the adviser says. “Republicans need a new Reagan. Donors, insiders and increasingly Republican primary voters are coming to this realization.” On the other hand, when I asked Youngkin about such speculation, he professed to be flattered but said, “I’ve signed up for four years, and I’m going to do my job for four years”—a pledge that would preclude him from running in 2024.
Youngkin argues he’s earned his constituents’ support by promising to solve problems that Democrats would prefer to pretend don’t exist. Over the past year, numerous Democratic partisans have insisted that inflation was fleeting, that school closures and masking weren’t harming children, and that rising crime is an illusion. Virginia has a dysfunctional department of motor vehicles, a corrupt parole board, an employment commission with a massive backlog and hundreds of millions in misspent funds. Public schools that got rid of police officers in the name of criminal-justice reform now deal with daily fistfights. Murders increased 23% in 2020, while law-enforcement agencies struggle with recruitment. It’s time, Youngkin says, to stop squabbling over whether these issues are real, and start solving them instead.
“Let’s shine a bright light on our problems and run into the light,” Youngkin tells me. “I see that on a lot of fronts right now, where there’s been decisions that were made to not actually run to the light on many challenges. We’ve just got to go address this and stop arguing about whether there’s a problem or not. We know there is. We know there’s a problem in literacy in K through third grade. We know that the murder rate is going up. And I just think this is a moment for us to take action, as opposed to stand around and figure out how to cast blame.”
As the cranks tire of venting and the 100 Days event nears its end, things suddenly take a different turn—one that seems to illustrate Youngkin’s inroads with minority voters and Democrats’ slipping hold on the diverse and religious working class. Bishop Joe Chase, a well-connected pastor and broadcaster, rises and takes the mic. He and his wife own a Black radio station in the Hampton Roads region, the heavily Black and military community that includes Norfolk and Virginia Beach. Chase says his community has been surprised by the governor’s engagement. “The conversation that I’m hearing now—even though we may not agree on everything, even though we may disagree with some of your politics—the conversation that I’m hearing is that you’re a man that can be trusted,” Chase says.
At the end of the event, Chase and four other Black pastors surround the Youngkins. They form a circle, laying hands on each other’s shoulders and bowing their heads. “Governor Youngkin and his wife, they love the Lord,” says the Reverend Joe Ellison, who has a shiny bald pate and a big white beard. “Jesus Christ is not Black. He’s not white. He’s not a Baptist or a Methodist, a Republican or a Democrat. He’s King of Kings and Lord of All.” The circle sways, eyes shut in devotion.—With reporting by Julia Zorthian
This story has been updated to include additional exit polling data.
Write to Molly Ball at [email protected].
JavaScript is not available.
We have detected that JavaScript is disabled in this browser. Please enable JavaScript or switch to a supported browser to continue using twitter.com. A list of supported browsers can be found in our Help Center.
help center
Related searches to Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter Meet The Politician On Instagram
Information related to the topic Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter Meet The Politician On Instagram
Here are the search results of the thread Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter Meet The Politician On Instagram from Bing. You can read more if you want.
You have just come across an article on the topic Who Is Glenn Youngkin Daughter Meet The Politician On Instagram. If you found this article useful, please share it. Thank you very much.
Articles compiled by Bangkokbikethailandchallenge.com. See more articles in category: DIGITAL MARKETING