Who's Celebrating Trump's Strikes? It Depends Which Generation You Ask

When I turned 16, I didn’t get my driver’s license. This enraged my grandfather, who worked for decades as a driving instructor and bus driver. It also delighted him, because it meant he could keep picking me up from school. His car speakers always blared conservative talk radio, which in the runup to the 2016 election—and after spending eight hours closeted in an all-boys Catholic school—was the last thing I wanted to hear. Mostly I just sat silently, listening to what my grandfather agreed with and wondering what he would think of me if he were ever to truly know me.

It’s easy to remember the car radio and forget the time he took every day to wash out the tumbler, fill it with a cold drink, drive across town to spend a fraction of my day with me, and drive across town again back to Little Havana. During my grandfather’s life, I focused on political divides between us. After his passing, I’ve thought more about what united us. I came home to Miami to learn more about generational politics there—as Cuban and Venezuelan communities grapple with immigration crackdowns and US intervention. Just as Trump launches another military campaign on Iran.