After early success, a historic candidacy faces a much steeper hurdle
On a rainy afternoon, Pete Buttigieg is on his feet inside the fellowship hall of a Baptist church, fielding questions from a mixed-race audience, when an African American woman takes the microphone.
She introduces herself as an educator and points out that South Carolina ranks 42nd out of 50 states on education. How does Mr. Buttigieg, who is running for president, plan to create equity in public schools, she asks. The audience applauds.
He thanks her for her public service. “As someone who’s married to a teacher, I feel like I get an education about education every time I come home,” he says, generating a laugh from the crowd.
What Mr. Buttigieg leaves unsaid, as he speaks of the need to raise teachers’ salaries, is that his spouse at home in South Bend, Indiana, is a man.
As the first openly gay candidate in a Democratic presidential race, Mr. Buttigieg and his long-shot bid have become a signifier of how much attitudes have shifted on LGBTQ rights in a political party that a decade ago didn’t support same-sex marriage. For all the talk of Democratic identity politics, his sexual orientation doesn’t rate a mention at many of his public events, where he pitches himself as a thoughtful technocrat with a calm, respectful tone and a progressive platform.
As he tries to build a more diverse coalition in Southern states, Mr. Buttigieg knows that some voters may recoil from the idea of electing a gay president. But for most
Elite education, hardscrabble hometownCampaigning in the Bible Belt“Am I here to judge?”Two Midwest marriages