Once Gretchen Whitmer was sworn into office, her big plans to fix the damn roads fizzled out faster than a bad date. So she pivoted to progressive talking points and tyrannical policies that hit young men like me where it hurt.
Take 2020, my sophomore year of high school, a time when I was itching to grow and find my place. I joined the swim team, despite not knowing how to swim, and later the soccer team, though I had never laced up cleats.
I also had big dreams of serving my country, so I set my sights on JROTC to prepare for the military, a goal I’d held since sixth grade. But Whitmer’s Covid-19 lockdowns slammed the door shut. JROTC wasn’t offered at my school, but I could’ve been bused to a partner school. That is, until the governor signed executive orders to “slow the spread,” killing programs like JROTC for kids like me.
The transition to online learning was chaotic, filled with Zoom classes and unreliable internet connections. In some instances, teachers spoke to a screen with no one watching. As a result, I found myself at home without the hands-on training I needed for JROTC. Like many members of Gen Z, my social skills and character development were under attack.
It wasn’t just a policy, it felt personal, like a punch to the gut for a young guy trying to carve out his path.
Whitmer’s bad decisions didn’t just stop at JROTC. They bled into sports, too. Picture this: You’re on the swim team racing in a 25-yard pool. You’re holding your breath underwater, pushing your limits, only to come up gasping, and have to slap on a damp mask. It was torture, plain and simple.
In a sport where relays demand tight teamwork, social distancing was a cruel joke. Soccer was no better. Twenty young guys, all dealing with our struggles—identity, growth, you name it—forced to wear masks and keep six feet apart in a game that’s all about contact and hustle.
Whitmer was making choices without thinking about the fallout. Shutting down the state was a direct attack on young men statewide. We needed sports and other extracurricular spaces to grow, compete, and find purpose. Instead, we got restrictions that suffocated us. Young women handled it differently. Girls on the swim team stuck to the Covid-19 rules. They truly believed “Big Gretch knows best,” but they also missed out on their own growth opportunities, like volleyball and cheer, and then got stuck with extra chores while at home during lockdowns.
But young men wouldn’t roll over. My soccer team called BS on masks and social distancing, dubbing them “stupid” and “lame.” The swim team ditched Covid rules, though the girls still followed them. JROTC stayed scrapped, but we didn’t forget.
That resentment fueled something bigger. I watched friends who never cared about politics start backing Donald Trump. They registered to vote, bonded by a shared rejection of the Left’s overreach. Young men like me, who turned 18 after the 2020 election, carried the scars of Whitmer’s lockdowns into the 2024 election. We remembered the lost opportunities, the Zoom classes, the masks, and we showed up at the polls.
Voting numbers show this shift: In 2020, Michigan’s young men aged 18-29 backed Joe Biden 50% and Trump 48%, according to the exit polls. But by 2024, young men in Michigan swung hard, with 58% voting for Trump and 39% for Kamala Harris.
Whitmer and the Democrats abandoned us, but we found our voice. The young men of this state, myself included, rejected the Left’s agenda and chose President Trump. We’ve got heart, and we’re taking control of our future.
James Hart is an America First activist fighting for a better future for all Americans.
