Kat Abughazaleh knows how to create viral moments online. She’s an old pro, in fact, capable of posting clips of herself that can rack up millions of views. But engineering attention in the physical world is a decidedly different challenge—one that Abughazaleh was struggling to solve on an overcast afternoon in July.
The 26-year-old, who is running for Congress in Illinois, was sitting outside her campaign headquarters in Chicago, trying to connect with prospective voters during the area’s annual taco crawl. Some people were stopping to chat, but others hurried along in search of their next carnitas fix. On the internet, Abughazaleh can precision-edit a video to maximize eyeballs. On Clark Street, a busy thoroughfare that cuts across the city’s northeastern neighborhoods, she had to convince people cruising for excellent Mexican food that she was worth delaying their next bite.
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That day, at least, the solution was simple: hot sauce. Abughazaleh got a taste for the stuff growing up in Texas and never let go. She hauled out the collection of bottles she keeps in her office—many of them sent by a supporter—and lined up over a dozen on a table for pedestrians to douse their tacos. Within minutes, locals sloshing to-go margaritas in plastic cups stopped to pepper her with questions, like her stance on organized labor (pro), what her “main issue” is (“antiauthoritarianism”), and her thoughts on contemporary sci-fi and fantasy (Red Rising is superior to A Song of Ice and Fire). It seemed every other person had a friend who was a big fan. Supporters in cars honked periodically. With help from a volunteer who translated, Abughazaleh explained to a Spanish-speaking family that her office doubles as a mutual aid hub, stocked with free pantry items and open to “everyone except ICE.” They took campaign stickers.
An older man with white whiskers and a “Make America Green Again” hat trotted over to the table after locking up his bike. Abughazaleh leaned forward, eager to engage on the issues. Before she got going, though, the man cut her off. “You have terrible posture,” he chided her, explaining that he was a physical therapist. “Pull up your breastbone. Shoulders back.”
Abughazaleh mimicked the man’s movements, squaring her shoulders in her loose jean jacket and doing a heroic job at not looking annoyed. She asked what issues he cares about as he inspected her bearing. Turns out, they had plenty to discuss: ICE raids, the Supreme Court’s perfidy. By the end of the conversation, the man was grabbing pamphlets and didn’t seem to notice that Abughazaleh had curled herself back into a more comfortable position.
Seeing her deal with even the most condescending of constituents, you wouldn’t know that this is Abughazaleh’s first time running for office. She is at the forefront of a wave of left-leaning young people who are eager to change what electoral politics looks like in the United States. They are fueled by frustration with the Democratic Party establishment, many of whom have been in office longer than their challengers have been alive—and seem to crave outspoken candidates like Abughazaleh, who, last week, was thrown to the ground by law enforcement while protesting an ICE detention center. (One of Abughazaleh’s first campaign slogans was “What if We Didn’t Suck?”) Run for Something, a political action committee that recruits young progressives to run in down-ballot races, has seen more than 61,000 people reach out about running for office in 2025, more than the first three years of Donald Trump’s first term combined, according to cofounder Amanda Litman.