I attended Donald Trump’s campaign rally at Madison Square Garden (MSG) on Sunday, Oct. 27, out of genuine curiosity about why one would vote for Trump. However, I left the rally bamboozled, perplexed and incredibly scared for the future. As a comedian, the potential for material was endless, and not capitalizing on that would’ve been foolish. But instead of writing a notebook worth of jokes, I find myself here, embarking on my journalistic debut and documenting a much more serious and sorrowful story.  

At around 1:30 p.m. on Sunday, I got off the train at Penn Station. Immediately after exiting the subway station, there was an electric wave of red hats. Since I was attending solo, I made it my first priority to make a “friend” who could keep me company while we waited to enter MSG. It was in a line wrapping around an entire block and a half where I met my new pal, who made the 10-hour drive from St. Louis to attend his eighth Trump rally. I made it clear that my goal was simply to learn, not argue or try to convert any of these die-hard Trump supporters to the other side; I just wanted to observe. While there were a few issues I could agree on–such as stricter border policies–for the most part, all I heard was a medley of the same old buzzwords, blatant stereotyping, misinformation and conspiracy theories we hear on the news. Some accusations that stuck with me were claims that Kamala Harris “slept her way into the White House,” “illegal immigrants were murderers, rapists and drug dealers” and that “Jewish people controlled the weather.” These answers felt concocted and regurgitated straight from the mouths of Donald Trump and his affiliates instead of critically thought out and unique. Very sheepish. 

As we inched closer and closer, we were informed that our section was too late to the party and would have to watch the speeches on a jumbotron outside the rally. Simultaneously, live election gambling updates were streamed on smaller screens, only adding to the surreal experience. While within viewing distance, I watched speeches from Trump, Republican Vice President candidate JD Vance, Vivek Ramaswamy, former Fox News anchor Tucker Carlson and Rudy Giuliani. Family members of Trump, including Melania, Eric and Donald Trump Jr., also gave speeches. Several entrepreneurs and entertainers like Elon Musk, Dana White and Hulk Hogan took the stage to support Trump. Comedian Tony Hinchcliffe also spoke to the crowd (which, granted, would’ve been pretty sick if our country’s democracy and so many Americans’ lives weren’t at stake). Similarly to the supporters I spoke with in line, those who spoke on behalf of Donald Trump were on the same vibe of name-calling, stereotyping and spewing misinformation left and right.  

As stated before, I went to this rally setting aside my preconceived notions and hoping to understand what actually appeals to Trump supporters. However, after hearing all of Madison Square Garden chant “Tampon Tim” (referring to Democratic Vice President nominee Tim Walz), Carlson purposely botching Kamala Harris’ ethnic background, Hinchliffe calling Puerto Rico a “floating island of garbage” and childhood friend of Trump, David Rem, calling Harris “the Antichrist” shattered any notion I had of finding understanding or common ground. Each comment seemed to be received with even wilder applause and laughter than the previous, only reinforcing that my presumptions were correct. Even talk show star Dr. Phil spoke in support of Trump, insisting that celebrities don’t know anything about politics and defined bullying as seeking to harm, coarse or cause distress from a position of power. He then, somehow, convinced a crowd of over 20,000 people that Trump is not a bully. And trust me–as a comedian–there’s a distinct difference between making a joke and bullying someone. 

A few minutes after Trump took the stage, I decided to leave. I’d spent about six hours with his supporters and felt I had seen enough. Before returning to my dorm, I stopped at Trader Joe’s before making my way to the subway station. Once I boarded the train, I was relieved not to be surrounded by red hats. That calmness was interrupted when an older woman recognized me from the crowd and asked, “Weren’t you just at the rally?” I shamefully admitted that I was there and immediately received uncomfortable looks from the bystanders in my train car. I explained to her, the same way I explained to the “friend” I made from St. Louis, that I was only there to understand why one would vote for Trump. As we continued speaking, she explained her Christian background and biblical theories that supposedly proved why Trump is the best candidate. As a Christian myself, it struck me that my values, ones rooted in loving our neighbors and rejecting adultery and idolatry, seemed entirely at odds with what I’d heard that evening. Once again, I found myself being fed apparent contradictions and hypocrisy.

That night, I went to City Hall Park and called my parents, my grandma, my cousin and a few friends, attempting to process everything I had experienced and witnessed only hours before. As a transfer student at the University, I came here to pursue comedy in the city and focused more on the University’s location rather than the campus itself. I have truthfully made zero effort to immerse myself within the University; I haven’t attended transfer student events or participated in any extracurriculars. Yet here I am, at 2:24 a.m. on Wednesday, Oct. 30, with little previous involvement in politics and no prior experience writing in school newspapers, attempting to articulate what this experience really felt like. Reflecting on my goals for that day, to understand Trump’s supporters and potentially find some comedic material, I must admit I struck out twice. My experience was unforgettable–but in none of the ways I had hoped.