On the tree-lined, redbrick residential streets of northwest Wilmington, newly elected state senator Sarah McBride is high-school-cheer-captain level popular. “Hello!” says a woman pushing a baby stroller. “Hello!” greets a man walking his dog. “Hello!” squeals a trio of children in the yard of a Catholic school. “Sarah!” exclaim two middle-aged women in a Christmas-wreathed, red-Adirondackfronted coffee shop. “Congrats on the new house! How’s the renovation going?” McBride shoots back immediately to one of them, making a “Yellow Wallpaper” joke about the woman’s actual soon-to-be removed yellow wallpaper.
It’s a brisk, sunny day in mid-December, and McBride—who was elected to represent Delaware’s First District in November, securing her place as the highest-ranking openly transgender elected official in U.S. history—is living up to her high-school nickname: Tour Guide McBride. She waxes poetic about state history, “constituent services,” and how to pronounce the name of the city of Harrington like a true Delawarean. Dressed casually in loose jeans, tennis shoes, and a gray jacket with a stain on its furry white lapel, McBride has a charm that’s part corny grandfather (“I like a little coffee with my cream and sugar,” she says, winking) and part super-eager, super-nerdy Rachel Maddow. Her cheery chatter is often accompanied by snorty laughs.
“The thing that I love most about Delaware is that we are a small town but a state at the same time,” McBride told me when we first spoke the week before. “When you have that ‘state of neighbors,’ there’s just a deeper sense of home that you feel no matter where you go.” At the time, it struck me as unusual that a transgender politician would be so passionate about the small, homogeneous city (population 70,000) where she grew up presenting as straight and cisgender—after all, moving to a big city to escape small-town bigotry is a queer coming-out trope—but as we walk past well-manicured lawns, some still staked with McBride’s campaign signs, it seems obvious that she would want to settle down here. At only 30, she has already spent the majority of her life thinking about how to make life better for the people in her state.
Continue reading your story on the app
Continue reading your story in the magazine
DJ Khaled is not a rapper. But he does always seem to know a guy.
Science of Us: Katie Heaney
The Clock-Out Cure For those who can afford it, quitting has become the ultimate form of self-care.
THE Destroy-It-to-Save-It Plan FOR East River Park
The city’s first real battle over climate adaptation has arrived.
You'd Be an Iconic Guest
A ruthless Instagram interviewer brings her knowing wink to cable.
The Great Indoors
A critic reacclimates to the now-unfamiliar terrain of the dining room.
Political Animals: Olivia Nuzzi
The Crisis Crisis How the White House polices language in Washington—including the president’s.
What Was the Office?
It Was Stressful, Filthy, High Stakes—and Where the Action Was
ANDREW YANG'S INSIDER CAMPAIGN
How did a former CEO of 100 employees become the front-runner to govern a city of 8.5 million? Not simply by being a national celebrity and an excellent campaigner.
The Group Portrait: Little Pot
The activists and entrepreneurs intent on making New York’s new cannabis industry more equitable, less corporate.
Tech vs. Journalism
Silicon Valley feels picked on by “woke” journalists “who can't code." Reporters feel picked on by petty zillionaires with anger-management problems. Inside the nasty clout battle for how the world’s most influential industry gets covered.
The Little State That Could
Delaware becomes a worthy destination——and not just because of Joe Biden.
A Wilmington, North Carolina, home gets a fresh look after hurricane waters ebb.
ICING OUT OF OPTIONS
IS WHAT LIES AHEAD WORSE THAN WHAT LIES BENEATH?
Earning their wings - Creating Peace of Mind
Earning their wings - Creating Peace of Mind
CONSERVATION FROM ABOVE
FLYING WITH LIGHTHAWK
A solid-axle Chevy built with dollar-smart parts.
David Gonce’s 1979 Corvette packs plenty of attitude
Alun Wyn looks set to eclipse Willie John
Willie John McBride has been sitting all alone at the top of a mountainous pile since belatedly calling it a day almost half a century ago.
SECCIÓN 230: LAS 26 PALABRAS QUE CREARON INTERNET
INTERNET LA ACTITUD DE LAS GRANDES PLATAFORMAS SOCIALES HACIA LOS CONTENIDOS QUE SE PUBLICAN EN ELLAS PUEDE ACABAR DETERMINANDO LA PROPIA NATURALEZA DE LA RED Y CÓMO LA UTILIZAREMOS EN UN FUTURO MUY CERCANO.
Biden vows to 'get right to work'
Despite Trump resistance