Mother Jones; Stephen Maturen/Getty
On Tuesday, Vice President Kamala Harris announced her running mate on the Democratic ticket this fall: Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz. A six-term congressman from a largely rural southern Minnesota district who was elected to the governor’s office in 2018, Walz was not much of a household name for most Democrats outside the Midwest until a few weeks ago, when, in an interview with Morning Joe about Republican vice presidential nominee JD Vance, he struck a bit of messaging gold.
“We do not like what has happened where we can’t even go to Thanksgiving dinner with our uncle because you end up in some weird fight that is unnecessary,” Walz said.
“It’s true,” he continued. “These guys are just weird!”
While Harris vetted and interviewed a slate of white male elected officials (and one white male Cabinet secretary), Walz emerged as a favorite of online and tuned-in progressives, and “weird” became a rallying cry of all sorts for pundits and politicos looking to put their finger on the, well, strange obsessions of the Late Trump GOP. Even the reported runner-up for the VP nod, Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro, tried the term out.
But Walz was not just a 60-year-old guy with a catchphrase. He was respected enough as a member of Congress that former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi reportedly advocated on his behalf last week. And, while not exactly a leftist himself, Walz had support from members of the House Progressive Caucus and Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders. United Auto Workers President Shawn Fain said Walz was one of the union’s two favorites for the job.
As governor, Walz has used narrow legislative majorities to secure free school lunches for students; he got paid family and medical leave for workers. And even though he once boasted an A-rating from the National Rifle Association—one of the last elected Democrats to receive such an endorsement—Walz eventually broke with the organization and signed a new background checks law as governor.
Vice presidential candidates generally only affect voters’ choices at the margins, but Walz’s background is at least part of the appeal as Harris attempts to shore up support in the Midwestern states that former President Barack Obama carried twice and Joe Biden once, but which Donald Trump flipped in 2016. A former command sergeant major in the Army National Guard, Walz was raised in Valentine, Nebraska. He graduated from Chadron State College and then taught geography and coached football and girls basketball in the small town of Alliance, Nebraska. Eventually, he coached and taught in Mankato, Minnesota, where he moved with his wife, Gwen. In a 2002 profile for the Chadron Record, after he was one of six teachers in the state to receive an Ethics in Education award, a colleague said that Walz “has the ability to reach kids—the rich kids, the poor kids, the white kids, the minority kids, the not-so-great students.”
Walz told the Omaha World-Herald that he first took a serious interest in politics in 2004, when he took his students to see a campaign rally for President George W. Bush. After the students were denied entry because one of them had a John Kerry sticker on his wallet, Walz told the paper, the Mankato West linebackers coach began volunteering at the local Democratic field office. The next year, with almost nothing in the way of national support until the final weeks of the race, he ran for office against a six-term Republican congressman and won by six points. Over the weekend, Politico’s Meredith Lee posted a radio ad from that race that is worth listening to for anyone wanting to understand how Walz has thrived in politics:
Like every other prospective running mate under consideration, Walz will have his current job filled by a Democrat if his ticket wins in the fall. Minnesota Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan, who is a member of the White Earth Band of Ojibwe, would become the first Native American woman to be a governor in American history.
This is a developing story. Check back for updates.
