When I arrived in Arizona last October to participate in nearly a month of get-out-the-vote efforts, I knew the state would be one of the most fiercely contested battlegrounds in the 2024 presidential election. Joe Biden had won by fewer than 11,000 votes in 2020, making Arizona a potential game-changer for the GOP. Talking to dozens of Grand Canyon State voters—especially younger ones—I became convinced that Donald Trump had tapped into something special. He had connected with the “normies” in a way that leads me to believe Arizona will remain Republican for years to come.

In Arizona, the youth vote—defined as voters between the ages of 19 and 30—proved decisive in Trump’s 2024 election victory. While Trump didn’t win the demographic outright, he made significant inroads, pulling 2% of support away from Kamala Harris and the Democrats. That shift helped him secure the state by a 5.5% margin.

But the real story lies in how he did it. In recent years, young Arizona voters have shown rising political engagement, with 25% turning out for the 2022 midterms—well above the national average. This demographic, traditionally dominated by college students clustered around the state’s metro areas and campuses, seemed like a safe bet for Democrats for years to come. So what changed? Simply put, Trump reached Arizona normies, and in 2024 that felt like almost everybody—even young people.

A new detailed map of Arizona’s 2024 voting data reflects digitally what I heard and saw on the ground last fall: even in places like Maricopa County—home to 73 college campuses, 51 of the state’s cities, and 68% of its population—support for Harris was lukewarm at best. The Democratic candidate faltered on both style and substance, particularly in her youth vote strategy.

The young voters I spoke with again and again identified housing affordability, cost of living, and economic opportunities as their top concerns—issues that closely align with the major themes shaping this election cycle. Many in Gen Z feel underrepresented by both major political parties, yet remain committed to voting in significant numbers. This creates both a challenge and an opportunity for campaigns vying for their support.

From my conversations with dozens of young people in Arizona—including the politically engaged and the apolitical, particularly Latinos under 40—one thing was clear: they care deeply about housing, the economy, and jobs. For them, Donald Trump’s policies, centered on affordable housing, job creation, and economic growth, felt directly relevant. They saw his approach not just as rhetoric, but as a practical roadmap to improving their daily lives.

In contrast, Kamala Harris’s focus on an “Opportunity Economy” felt wildly out of touch—if young voters understood it at all. Many admitted they didn’t, largely because Harris herself seemed unable to explain it. Her promises of entrepreneurship, federal job investments, and $25,000 incentives for first-time homebuyers came across as abstract and irrelevant to the immediate challenges young Arizonans face. Affordable rent and stable employment topped their list of concerns, and Harris’s proposals didn’t even come close. Her efforts to connect—whether sharing beers with late-night hosts or delivering stilted, scripted lines on Call Her Daddy—were dismissed as “meaningless” gestures, detached from their reality.

Moreover, there was frustration that Harris already had three years to make a difference but didn’t. Under Trump, these voters recalled a stronger economy, lower inflation, and better housing opportunities. They felt Trump’s policies gave them a clear path to success. Harris? Not so much.

Bread & Butter, not Bread & Circuses

When it came to issues and messaging that missed the mark, the young people I spoke with—college students, young professionals, bartenders, baristas, and Uber drivers—either laughed or cringed at Harris’s campaign themes of “brat vibes” and “joy.” Most found the whole spectacle insulting.

Their concerns were far more substantive: housing shortages, skyrocketing costs, and the overwhelming pressure of a competitive market driven in part by an influx of illegal immigrants and “California refugees”—transplants fleeing high taxes, unaffordable housing, mismanagement, wildfires, and more. Beneath their frustration over rising rents, limited job opportunities, and uncertainty about homeownership was a deeper fear, since reflected in the online debate over economic opportunity: that the American Dream, enjoyed by previous generations, might have become nearly impossible to achieve.

Interestingly, the younger Latinos I met expressed a nuanced view of immigration. Many were sympathetic to the immigrant experience, insisting that people come to the U.S. seeking a better life. But they also felt a deep sense of unfairness—especially those who were born here or came legally—about bearing the economic brunt of illegal immigration. Many of them are concerned that unchecked immigration—particularly illegal entries—has driven up the cost of living. This sentiment is significant, given that Latino voters make up an estimated 21% of Arizona’s electorate. Their perspective on immigration and the economy, among other issues, helped pull Arizona into the red column last November.

Across the board, young people seem totally uninterested in asking for or receiving handouts. Those I spoke to wanted economic opportunities. They wanted a chance to build something for themselves. There was a shared sentiment that the government should create the framework for prosperity, but that ultimately it’s up to the individual to pursue meaning and success.

All the way across the country in a Bronx, NY, barbershop, Trump said something on the campaign that resonated with young voters here in Arizona. Speaking to a group of men, Trump said, “We’re gonna give you a lot of jobs and a great economy and you’re gonna straighten yourselves out.” That philosophy—that good economic policy can provide a solid foundation, but it’s up to people to build meaningful lives—reflects what I’m seeing and hearing here. These voters just want a tangible shot at the American Dream, and it starts with economic opportunity.

While abortion remains a key concern for some, particularly young women, a growing number of young voters are shifting their focus to economic priorities. Organizations like Turning Point Action (TPA) are capitalizing on this sentiment to mobilize youth voters. Their “Chase the Vote” initiative has become central to the GOP’s youth outreach strategy.

Young TPA leaders like Matthew Martinez—who spearheaded efforts in Arizona and Wisconsin’s critical “super chase” jurisdictions—were laser-focused on energizing young voters. From door-knocking in key districts to putting on creative events like the “Ballot Rager” near Arizona State University, TPA has honed its approach to engage college students and young professionals. At the Ballot Rager, students arrived with completed ballots in hand and were treated to a lively beer bash—a tactic that combined fun with civic duty.

The enthusiasm for Trump in Phoenix was undeniable. From free drinks and MAGA hats to merchandise giveaways on ASU’s campus, the energy of Arizona’s conservative youth was impossible for Democrats to match. On one of my last days in Arizona, I found myself talking with a big group of young voters. It was Halloween, and their excitement was palpable. We were standing in line for Trump’s final campaign rally, hosted by Tucker Carlson and featuring an eclectic lineup of his surrogates and associates, including Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.

Curious, I asked them point-blank: What’s the magic ingredient? Why does Trump resonate so deeply with you and your friends?

Their answer was immediate and unified: authenticity. Trump doesn’t just use TikTok, podcasts, and social media like a campaign tool—he feels real. His persona strikes a chord with a generation tired of empty political promises, disillusioned by America’s decline, and staring down a bleak economic future. Unlike so many politicians, Trump speaks to their practical concerns—jobs, economic stability, and border security—in a way that feels genuine and accessible. To them, it’s not just about the message but the man behind it. Now, if the GOP sticks with Trump’s playbook—offering practical solutions to these core concerns and showing up where young voters are, both online and in real life—Arizona could stay red for generations.