Firstenberg, a former Senate staffer, is an artist and created an installation near the Washington Monument to make visible the human toll of the Covid-19 pandemic.
“I probably have, what, 10 more years? And nothing to do with them,” he said. The 64-year-old good ol’ boy had meant to vent his frustration. Instead, he uncovered his sad truth.
By pulling front-end in beside my charging Tesla, he had blocked my car door from opening with his black, extended cab F150. Parked with windows open at a Wawa in southern Virginia, I became his defacto captive audience.
“How long does it take to charge that thing?” he began. Without waiting for my response, he launched his first salvo, “You know, that battery will be an environmental hazard.” Likely, he had just pumped $5.29 per gallon gas.
His grievances burst forth in a racist, liberal-bashing, ugly froth. Always ready to learn about people, I let him talk. Figuring he would not physically attack me in broad daylight, I employed the fine art of rational/emotional jujitsu. We had chosen our weapons — his was anger and grievance. Mine was that he had underestimated me.
As he railed against Black people, I looked into his eyes and asked, “What makes you and me better than Black people?” As evidence, he told me of a Black woman who had set her bag of Costco groceries on the hood of his truck while she buckled her daughter into her car seat.
“So you cared more about your paint job than the safety of a child?” I challenged him. He stammered, then continued. He had lost his job at a florist shop because he had called a customer the “N” word. “And the woman who fired me was older than me!”
Now we were getting somewhere.
“President Biden is ruining the country!” he said, pivoting subjects.
“Congress is the problem,” I countered, asking him who is sending all these idiots to D.C. “People have more power than they know,” I countered. “Vote for better people.”
“The environment is going to hell. Everything is going to hell,” he lamented. “I probably have 10 more years to go … and what do I have to do?”
“You can help a lot of people in 10 years’ time. You just have to focus on others.”
Twenty minutes of being heard likely did not change his world. Those minutes changed mine. They clarified the existential depths of despair that animate America’s angry and aggrieved.
They need us to hear them. Not to agree, but to guide them away from identities of ideology and to challenge them to matter. They can matter. With our help, most of them will.
A view of the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C., on June 25, 2026. President Donald Trump jolted Republicans during a fiery appearance at the U.S. Capitol on Wednesday, scrapping a housing bill signing ceremony and clashing behind closed doors with a party rebel who challenged him over the Iran war. Trump had been expected to sign the bipartisan housing.
Only Trump doesn’t care about housing
It was August 15, 2024. Then candidate Donald Trump stepped out of his Bedminster, New Jersey, golf club’s columned clubhouse to a gaggle of reporters. He was flanked by tables of groceries and signs showing the rising cost of food. Also on one of the tables was a dollhouse, meant to represent the equally alarming rise in housing prices.
It was a speech about the economy, the single most important issue of the 2024 election cycle, full of promises that went right to the heart of Americans’ anxieties. While former President Joe Biden and then Vice President Kamala Harris were contorting themselves to posture a good economy that just needed more time to recover from the pandemic, Trump was preying on voters’ very real fears of unaffordable gas, groceries, and homes. It was obviously a winning message.
In that speech, Trump promised, “We’re going to open up tracts of federal land for housing construction. We desperately need housing for people who can’t afford what’s going on now.”
As of mid-2023, there had been a housing shortage of nearly four million homes, according to the National Association of Realtors. Americans all over the country were either priced out of buying new homes due to low inventory, trapped in their existing homes by sky-high mortgage rates, or facing exorbitant rent hikes thanks to corporate investors buying up rental properties. Americans needed help, and Trump promised it.
Cut to March of 2026, when Trump reportedly told House Speaker Mike Johnson, “No one gives a sh*t about housing.”
That kind of thinking may explain why Trump this week suddenly announced he was canceling a signing ceremony for the bipartisan “21st Century ROAD to Housing Act,” a housing bill co-sponsored by Sens. Elizabeth Warren and Tim Scott that passed the House 358-32 and was approved in the Senate on Monday.
Trump instead demanded Congress pass the SAVE America Act, his controversial election grievance bill that doesn’t have enough Republican support to get passed in the Senate.
It’s just the latest in a line of policy self-owns where Trump has seemingly intentionally made life more difficult for Republicans hoping to keep their majority. Despite midterm elections occurring in the midst of a blistering economy and an unpopular war, they were surely hoping the housing bill would give them something — anything — to brag about when they returned home to their districts.
And very much to the contrary, Americans do give a sh*t about housing. According to a recent survey by the Bipartisan Policy Center, a whopping 79% say the cost of housing is extremely or very important to them. Eighty-three percent say Congress should take action on the issue — like it just did. Eighty-nine percent say the House and Senate need to work together to pass affordable housing legislation — like they just did. And 63% say they would be more likely to vote for a lawmaker if they helped pass legislation to build more affordable homes and lower housing costs — like they just did.
There aren’t many issues that unite Americans like housing does, and very few bipartisan policy wins Congress can point to, and yet, Trump is holding that bill hostage in order to get his pet project — which doesn’t even have the support of his own party — pushed through.
If you’re trying to make sense of something so nonsensical, as I’m sure many Republican lawmakers are, it’s certainly sad but not actually all that complicated. Trump said what he needed to get reelected and then promptly abandoned his promises in order to pursue his own self-interests, even if those interests are bad for Republicans and bad for voters.
That’s just the kind of guy he is.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.