What Kind of People Become Young Republicans?

Hanging out at the 2005 Young Republican National Convention at Mandalay Bay

Richard Abowitz

The Young Republicans gather for a convention only once every two years. The decision to hold the 2005 convention in Las Vegas was made in 2003 at the last convention, held in Boston, a city that is perhaps an even odder place for a Republican gathering. At least we have Republicans who win elections in Nevada. In fact, the first night of the convention, Gov. Kenny Guinn came by to pump hands and prove it. According to Young Republican National Convention Chairman Nathan Taylor, Nevada had to beat out five other states for the honor of hosting the convention.


Lean, a bit frenetic and even impatient, Taylor runs around one of Mandalay Bay's cavernous convention rooms and between comments to me he barks orders, takes constant phone calls and even hangs balloons so that the room will look festive on C-Span. There is nothing that Taylor does not supervise and as a result it is hard to catch him standing still:


"You got to be a problem-solver. It is all little details. Bottom line is that I am running this convention and it is my job to be sure everything goes off without a hitch. Everything, all the way down to the last napkin."


He does that. But in the process, some find Taylor's way of supervising a bit imperious and a few key volunteers quit and are replaced during the course of the convention. I catch one delegate from New York mockingly patting herself on the back as Taylor speaks on and on about all he has accomplished.


But Nathan Taylor's relentlessness can be both exhausting and rewarding. On the rewarding end there is the presence of C-Span filming parts of the convention: "It was one of my biggest projects." By which Nathan means he called every day for close to six months to ask them to cover the convention. "Through my constant dialogue with them they saw that this was not just a political thing, but that this was educational."


Though he is currently a resident of Reno, Taylor is a native. "I was born and raised in Las Vegas and went to El Dorado High School." He became a Republican as soon as he turned 18. "If you want to make a change, just get involved. So I got involved in politics and started going to the local county Republican meetings." Ultimately, Taylor says he decided to resurrect Nevada's Young Republican chapter, which had been dormant since the '80s. "So in 1998 I started the local chapter."


Still, for a Republican activist, Taylor hardly fits stereotypes. First off, despite his fierce devotion to President Bush he clearly places himself on the moderate end of the Republican spectrum. He says that his dream presidential candidate would be Rudolph Giuliani.


He's also not any sort of a Republican stereotype. He is not a rich guy or a member of the privileged classes. Taylor, who is soon to turn 30 (you can be a Young Republican up to age 40), unashamedly works as a waiter:


"I work for Outback Steakhouse. I have been there for three years. I am a server there. I enjoy it."


After taking seven years off, Taylor says he is also now about to finish his B.A. in political-science at UNLV, after which he plans to move east to start a software company. Mostly for the past two years of his life, Taylor points out, he has dedicated himself to nothing but the massive undertaking it took to coordinate this convention.




Controversy


Why does everyone at this convention think the Young Republicans are so important? Speaker after speaker noted that the only age group in which Kerry beat Bush in the 2004 election was with voters 18-29. And so the Young Republicans hope to be the vanguard of bringing people under 40 into the GOP. Yet Taylor admits:


"We have not received a lot of support from the national Republican party. I don't know why that is. I spent a lot of time trying to contact the RNC (Republican National Committee)."


So, without either Republican party money or a personal fortune, Taylor went on a massive fundraising crusade to pay for the convention.


"Our budget is tight. We are barely paying for all the food here at this thing. I am still fundraising while I am here, which is remarkable considering we are at the event and I am still raising money to pay for things at the event."


Whether it was the shortage of money or the convention chairman's top-down leadership style, or as Taylor claims, "a political drama perpetrated against me" in February, the Vegas convention faced a major crisis. On Valentine's Day, Taylor was removed as chairman of the convention and accused of misusing the money for the event in a complaint filed by other Young Republicans with the Reno Police. Shortly after a contentious Young Republican National Committee meeting in Arizona on February 19, Taylor was returned to his position as chairman of the 2005 convention and the criminal complaint against him was withdrawn, and statements were issued by national Young Republican leadership that fully exonerated him. Still, when the dust cleared, the controversy took its toll. According to Taylor:


"The Nevada Young Republicans really don't exist at the moment. You are looking at really the only active member of the state of Nevada for the Young Republicans. The reason that is, is because the organization was destroyed by what happened in February."


Taylor claims, tough, that even this problem has resulted overall in a plus for the Las Vegas convention in the end.


"I had a team of individuals across the country who helped me: Kentucky, Pennsylvania, you name it. I have about 30 volunteers. And, so truly this was a national convention, planned nationally. These are people who didn't just believe in me but in this convention and what it is about."


Meanwhile, just as the funding controversy evaporated, another controversy erupted when Taylor decided to give the convention a theme:


"As chairman of this event I had a lot of latitude on how I wanted this thing to be put together. Of course, some of that was just by default. About three months ago I came up with an idea to have a theme for our convention. The theme is 'Supporting our troops, honoring the fallen.'"


For some reason this provoked a group called Operation Yellow Elephant to threaten to protest the convention, arguing that if the Young Republicans support the troops they should join them and enlist. Taylor points out that many of the Young Republicans have, in fact, served in the military. And some certainly have been to Iraq and Afghanistan. It is a subject that is sensitive to Taylor; his estimate of what percentage of the 600 or so conventioneers served varies in different conversations. Sometimes he guesses 30 percent, other times he claims it could be 60 percent. However, what really got to him were the hundreds of e-mails he received demanding that he enlist and accusing him in the most personal language of being a coward. One typical query to Taylor's private e-mail:


"Your sorry ass isn't fighting the war you support because exactly WHY???"


Another message sent to the convention's information e-mail account bears the subject line: "Taylor should stop being a pussy." The author of this e-mail doesn't even bother to ask why Taylor hasn't enlisted, noting: "Put up or shut up. Pussy, all talk and no action. I am so sick of hearing all the excuses of you young rethuglicans." The truth is that Taylor would love to serve in the military, so much so that he actually starts shaking with emotion as he explains to me the real reason he says he is not in uniform.


"I can't serve because my lung has collapsed three times and I have had two surgeries on it. If I were able to go to Iraq I would go to Iraq and fight for us. Unfortunately, because of my health, I was not able to serve. But I serve my country by being involved in politics to work hard to make a difference. These people who make these accusations and started this e-mail campaign know nothing about me."


In the end, no protestors showed up to Mandalay Bay.


Choosing a theme honoring the troops for the convention, however, was not as surprising as Taylor's decision to invite Nevada State Controller Kathy Augustine to address the convention during a luncheon. Augustine first wondered how many Nevadans were present and when only two hands shot up she seemed positively giddy. "Only two?"


So none of the eight people at my table knew any more about Augustine than was offered in Taylor's lavish introduction, and Taylor neglected to mention that at the end of last year, Augustine made Nevada history as the first state official impeached for her alleged use of public resources and employees on her re-election campaign. While she held onto her office, she was officially reprimanded by state senators, and as even her own attorney told KVBC-Channel 3 at the time, Augustine has "the scarlet letter of impeachment permanently emblazoned on her." Well, at least her calendar was probably wide open.


Asked about it later, Taylor said:


"Why would I mention that? I invited her because I think she is a good woman. I think she was unfairly attacked. I stand by her. She is my friend. I am loyal to my friends through thick and thin, I am loyal to my friends."




The People


Which for a moment makes Taylor sound an awful lot like a certain pigheaded president who I should probably at some point admit that I did not vote for as much on account of this personality as his policies. Actually, Taylor and everyone else I met wanted to know my slant on politics. Only Ed Dean, 34, doesn't need to ask. Ed, the life of the Florida delegation, though he never uses these exact words, knows right from the get-go, just by looking at me, what I am: an East Coast Jewish Liberal.


The moment Ed checked on my name tag and read out: "Abowitz," he cracked, "I bet you've seen Schindler's List."


"No, I haven't. The night has yet to arrive when I got that 'I want to watch a three-hour film about the Holocaust' feeling."


Ed bursts into laughter and we are buds. I am in with the Florida delegation for the entire convention and it is one of the largest, according to Ed, over 30 strong here in Vegas. Ed tells many politically incorrect jokes, but nothing worse than what is on Howard Stern. My sense is that Ed (a conservative radio talk-show host heard throughout his home state) is more thrilled by his outrageousness than fueled by any actual bigotry. Though he does have a little thing about lesbians worth mentioning.


Ed points out that he doesn't mind your garden-variety lesbian, "only the hard-core, militant ones, with hair shorter than mine." One of Ed's favorite tales is of going to a local city college to lecture on conservative themes and being interrupted by his enemies:


"The militant lesbians knew I was coming out there, and they kept interrupting me and jumping on me. And, after awhile I said, 'You know what, I wish you would all go back in the closet. I am sick of you all saying you are out of the closet. It must have been an ugly mess in that closet before you all got out.'"


"Be serious, for a second," I say. "You don't really think gays and lesbians should be arrested or persecuted?"


"No, no, no! But when they come jumping on me for no reason, that's ridiculous." Perhaps sensing that I am offended, Ed changes the topic: "Hey, what's the difference between Ted Kennedy and the Iraqi Air Force? Ted Kennedy has at least one confirmed kill."


Ed's jokes never stop. Nor does his willingness to push buttons. He pointed out an "Arab" (whom I learned later was a guy born and raised in Chicago) and explained to me why Arabs tend to be Republican:


"You ever see an Arab working for someone else? Of course not. They start businesses and businessmen are Republicans."


The Florida delegation is definitely comprised of fiscal conservatives. This I discover one night as we wander Mandalay Bay in search of food, going from place to place looking for the cheapest prices. After Red, White and Blue—the name works-—is rejected we head to the buffet, which also seems pricey. According to Joseph Pearce, a 21-year-old member of the Florida delegation, "Ed is a cheap bastard and so I have to pay for him, too."




The Mission


The next night I find Joe, Ed and the rest of the Florida delegation at the Young Republican Fest, a dance with an '80s theme and costume competition. Joe tells me in exasperation what happened after I took off: "We tried every place in Mandalay Bay. And the Republicans are the cheapest group I have ever met. We are so stereotypical, I swear."


Among the costumes in the competition, there are Ghostbusters, Top Guns, a vintage Devo outfit, a Don Johnson, and two Madonnas in "Like A Virgin" wedding dresses. "Billie Jean" comes on and Ed slides on a white golf glove and begins to dance. He dances really well. This is a bit disturbing as it suggests that he has taken the time to learn to dance, put the effort into practicing and studied the moves until he has them down. Spinning to the end of the Michael Jackson song, Ed exclaims: "I need a 12-year-old boy for this!"


After the costume contest, Ed dances with his friend, Nicolee Ambrose. A business owner who holds a political appointment in the Department of Labor, Nicolee, 31, is a very different character than her friend Ed. Actually, the main business of the national convention in Las Vegas this week is to elect Ambrose to a two-year term as the next Young Republican chairman. She has selected Ed for the honor of nominating her.


Nicolee is running unopposed, and had a wide smile on her face from the first time I saw her by the registration desk and every time after that. In the back of the convention program there is a campaign ad that is a photo of Nicolee's 10-month-old baby in a crib with the caption: "Rest easy, my mommy will take care of things." Actually, it is Nicolee who may be having trouble resting: "It is the first time I have been away from him for more than a day."


"How are you doing?" I ask.


"We'll see. He is with his grandparents in Illinois where I grew up." Nicolee originally left home to attend John's Hopkins where she worked a grueling double degree, mixing international relations and voice performance. After graduation, she eventually settled in Maryland with her husband.


She became active in politics around 1997. "I was really disturbed by what was happening in the nation around 1997."


"Do you mean Monica Lewinsky?" I ask. I ask this because I can't really recall much else about the year in politics in 1997. Turns out I didn't need to.


"That and the lying," Nicolee says. "I found it disturbing. We are a country that is supposed to be based on equality with all of us having equal rights, including the president of the United States."


"So, is it that you thought the president felt he was above the law?"


"Yes, that really disturbed me and you have to have the rule of law to have a free society."


Nicolee decided to do something more than loathe Bill Clinton from the privacy of her own home; she got involved in the campaign of a Republican gubernatorial candidate in Maryland. "Sign me up. Let me help in any way. I have to put this frustration to positive use." Though the campaign failed, Nicolee decided to step up her commitment to politics, anyway. "I started up a Young Republican club in Baltimore City/Baltimore County where we live. We started it in 1999 and within nine months it was the largest in the state." From there she became state chair of Maryland Young Republicans and then the secretary for the Young Republican National Federation.


Richard Ambrose, Nicolee's husband, who is also an active Young Republican, tells me that he thinks his wife is perfect for the position of the next national chairman of the group because "she is very good at talking to people and doesn't come off in a fake way like a politician."


Still, even if the smile is natural, Nicolee already has the politician's gift for always being positive and always staying on message. Only for a brief moment, when I ask her if she is disappointed about not having the next presidential election fall within her two-year term, does she seem briefly at a loss.


"That's a good question." She pauses and then is back on message, talking about how excited she is to strengthen the Young Republican organization with her slate of a dozen candidates, dubbed Team Ambrose.


After the awards banquet Saturday night—which featured a keynote address by Sen. Sam Brownback (R-Kansas)—Nathan Taylor is the happiest guy at the convention, running around hugging everyone in sight:


"I've been planning this for two years. I am going to stay involved in the Young Republicans, but I didn't run for office. I would kind of like to focus a little on a personal life and not my political career at this time. So this is my last hurrah for awhile."


Meanwhile, starting Sunday morning and for the next two years until that convention in Miami, Team Ambrose will be doing its best to build the Young Republicans into a group that can help deliver the youth vote to the GOP. According to Nicolee Ambrose:


"There are so many people that really care if they could just be plugged in and told how to use their energy. I know how to organize. This organization is going to be a key player in targeted congressional, Senate and gubernatorial races in 2006. We are going to provide skilled labor in the places it will matter most. We can get amazing things done."


As one wistful Young Republican said: "What happened here this week will not stay in Vegas but will help change this country."

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