Sean Zanni/Patrick McMullan via Getty Images; Rebecca Zisser/BI
Tyrone McKillen, who leads an 8-person brokerage team in Los Angeles, is leaving Official Partners.
It's the first major departure after Official cofounders Tal and Oren Alexander were accused of rape.
Official has distanced itself from the Alexanders and is "assessing options" for its future.
Tyrone McKillen, a high-profile residential real estate agent based in Los Angeles, is leaving Official Partners, the luxury brokerage company that was thrown into turmoil after two of its cofounders were accused of rape.
McKillen said he hasn't yet formally parted ways with the New York-based firm, but is arranging his exit. The 36-year old broker's sales group, called Plus Real Estate, will now operate independently under that brand going forward. He said that 8 brokers who worked with him at Official will remain with Plus in its breakaway from the firm.
"We have been building the Plus brand over the past 10 years, so it's a natural progression for us," he said.
Nicole Oge, Official's chief growth officer, said that she and McKillen "have a deep amount of respect for one another, I support him in his decision."
The team is the most visible departure so far from the once-ascendant brokerage in the aftermath of startling allegations against Tal and Oren Alexander, sibling agents who were among the cofounders of Official when it was launched in 2022.
Shortly after the revelation of those cases, a third woman claimed in a New York civil case filed that month that Tal and Alon raped her as Oren watched.
The alleged sexual attacks took place more than a decade ago. The three brothers have denied the allegations.
In a response to the lawsuit against him, Tal stated that his accuser's claims were "fabricated allegations for financial gain." His attorney has sought to dismiss the case.
Official has distanced itself from the Alexanders
In the aftermath of the allegations, Oge announced that "Oren was immediately isolated from the business" and that "the process of removing him from ownership is well underway."
An attorney for Tal announced in a statement in late June that he and Official had mutually agreed that he would "take a leave" from the firm as he focused "fully on clearing his name."
Nonetheless, the close association between the Alexanders, who were among the country's most successful real estate brokers, and Official has dealt collateral damage to the company's image and business pipeline, even as it seeks to distance itself from its once-marquee stars.
JDS Development Group plans to remove the company this week from the sales assignment for 888 Brickell, a high-rise condo tower the firm is building in Miami, according to a person with direct knowledge of JDS's decision making.
Michael Shvo, another builder who is planning a luxury condo project at the Raleigh hotel in Miami Beach, also recently dropped Official from that development's marketing efforts.
John Hudak, a broker based in New York who worked under the Alexanders, also left the company in June, moving to the rival firm Compass.
"You don't go through something like this as a business and be completely unaffected," Oge said.
Oge said that the firm was "in active and productive discussions to move forward as a strengthened entity." She declined to say whether that included a rebranding or reorganization of the company's ownership structure that would seek to more thoroughly eliminate its connection with the Alexanders.
"We have spent time assessing options to determine what's best for our agents and clients," Oge said.
McKillen was a much-heralded addition to Official when he joined the firm in early 2023, credited with overseeing a team that had tallied $1.8 billion of pricey home sales.
In 2017, he arranged the $88 million sale of a Bel Air mansion to the megastar music couple Beyonce and Jay-Z.
"Tyrone is the ultimate exemplification of Official's vision," Richard Jordan, the company's CEO said in a statement at the time of his hiring.
Jeffrey Epstein took public relations advice from Steve Bannon before the predator was arrested on sex-trafficking charges and died in jail, sources say.
Getty Images; Jenny Chang-Rodriguez/BI
Steve Bannon took 15 hours of video of Jeffrey Epstein in the months before Epstein died in jail.
He said it was for a "documentary" — a claim that doesn't stand up to scrutiny.
Sources say Bannon was friends with Epstein and was trying to rehabilitate his reputation.
Before his 2019 death in jail, Jeffrey Epstein spent hours being interviewed on camera by Steve Bannon.
A clip published by the New York Post in 2021 shows Bannon verbally sparring with Epstein.
"I made my living from old thinking," Epstein said from his palatial Manhattan home. "But the future is for the way women think."
Bannon pushed back.
"Is that kind of sop because of all the depravity you've done against young women?" he asked.
It was vintage Bannon. The right-wing operator threw a Molotov cocktail into the political left's arena, hoping for chaos. And he promoted himself by lashing out at Epstein.
The clip supposedly promoted a documentary, "The Monsters: Epstein's Life Among the Global Elite," from Bannon's production company Victory Films. Before Epstein went to jail on sex-trafficking charges in July 2019, Bannon spent months in the financier's homes in Manhattan and Paris. He boasted that he shot 15 hours' worth of video.
Three years later, no documentary has been released. And Bannon's close relationship with Epstein has been curiously memory-holed.
Bannon grew closer to Epstein in the summer of 2018, advising him on how to handle his myriad legal and media investigations. They continued to spend time with each other through the following summer, when Epstein was arrested in Manhattan on sex-trafficking charges.
The footage remains under wraps.
It has not surfaced anywhere — not in the criminal trial of Ghislaine Maxwell, who was convicted of assisting Epstein's sex trafficking, nor in numerous civil lawsuits from his victims.
Bannon's explanation that he was producing a documentary about Epstein was nonsense, according to people who spent time with both men around the time they were in each other's lives.
In reality, the two acted like friends around each other. And Bannon, these people said, was trying to help Epstein — a notorious sex offender — with his public-relations problems.
Bannon met Epstein in December 2017, shortly after he stopped working in Donald Trump's White House. Epstein had his own history with Trump; participants in the Manhattan and Palm Beach, Florida, social scenes, they befriended each other in the 1980s but had a falling-out in the 2000s.
After Epstein died in jail while awaiting trial, a compensation program funded by his $630 million estate identified about 150 of his victims. Later litigation put the number closer to 200.
Bannon is serving a four-month sentence after a jury found him guilty of contempt of Congress for flouting a subpoena from the House panel investigating the Capitol riot on January 6, 2021. He's also awaiting trial on criminal charges over his role in We Build the Wall, an organization whose cofounders enriched themselves with money donated for the purpose of building a US-Mexico border wall.
Bannon, who frequently speaks to journalists, did not respond to numerous voicemails, emails, and text messages from Business Insider over the course of several years requesting comment about his relationship with Epstein.
He did not respond to an additional request for comment in a letter mailed to him on July 9 in the federal prison in Danbury, Connecticut, where he is incarcerated.
Alexandra Preate, a spokesperson for Bannon, told BI in December 2021 that the documentary about Epstein would be screened "probably around Labor Day." The date came and went. Preate has not responded to follow-up queries in the two years since, including a request for comment sent Tuesday.
On tape, Epstein talked about his relationship with Trump
Bannon first publicly claimed the footage was for a "documentary" in September 2021, more than two years after Epstein's death. He told the Daily Mail in a statement at the time that the footage was part of "a planned 50 hours of open ended no holds barred interviews with Epstein for a 8 to 10 hour expose on his deep relationships with the global elites in finance, science, education, medicine, politics and culture."
But people who spoke with Bannon around the time he was shooting the footage told BI that he was trying to improve Epstein's public image. He also may have just wanted some of Epstein's money.
Mark Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein's brother, said Bannon was trying to help his brother "rehabilitate his reputation" after the Miami Herald in 2018 published a series of articles — which ultimately led to an indictment by federal prosecutors in Manhattan — about his sexual abuse of girls in Palm Beach.
Donald Trump, Melania Knauss, Jeffrey Epstein, and Ghislaine Maxwell pose together at the at the Mar-a-Lago club, Palm Beach, Florida.
Davidoff Studios/Getty Images
Mark Epstein told BI that his brother had sent him footage of some of Bannon's interview with him.
In that interview, Mark Epstein told BI last year, "Jeffrey said he stopped hanging out with Trump when he realized Trump was a crook."
Mark Epstein said he inquired about the footage in a meeting with Bannon in New York after his brother's death but that Bannon refused to share more information.
"He told me he had like 16 hours of videotaping with Jeffrey in his vault," Mark Epstein said. "And he told me it was protected because it was witness preparation and it was protected under attorney-client privilege. But the thing is, Bannon's not an attorney."
Mark Epstein said Bannon asked him for money, saying he needed $6 million to complete the documentary. Mark Epstein told BI he declined.
Jeffrey Epstein died in jail before he could go to trial. A years-in-the-making 121-page Justice Department watchdog report published last year found that he killed himself in his cell, but Mark Epstein found it unpersuasive, telling BI last year that it was "blatant bullshit."
Mark Epstein said his brother told him that Bannon recorded the video to help prepare him for testimony. At the time, Jeffrey Epstein was facing civil lawsuits from accusers that could have led to depositions.
"I have also tried to reach Bannon about it a couple of times since our meeting and get no response," Mark Epstein told BI in an email this week.
Mark Epstein said Jeffrey Epstein told him he wasn't subpoenaed for any depositions at that time.
But Mark Epstein said his brother told him that if he had to testify in the future, he "would've had fun with it" and "channeled" Brett Kavanaugh during the now Supreme Court justice's Senate confirmation hearings.
"You know when Kavanaugh was going through his confirmation hearings and he said to the senator: 'Senator, I like beer. My friends like beer. Do you like beer, Senator?'" Mark Epstein said.
"So Jeffrey said he's going to channel Kavanaugh and say: 'Senator, I like pussy. My friends like pussy. Do you like pussy, Senator?'" he said.
The footage hasn't come up in any of the Epstein lawsuits
If Bannon actually needed money, he didn't seem to mention it to his usual financial backers.
Mike Lindell, a long-standing sponsor of Bannon's media empire through his ads for MyPillow, told BI in a recent interview that Bannon never asked him for money to complete the purported documentary.
"I've never heard about it in my life," he said, before launching into a digression about Dominion Voting Systems.
It's also not clear whether Bannon sought money from Guo Wengui, a Chinese business tycoon who is said to be a billionaire and who was a member of Mar-a-Lago. Guo — who also uses the names Ho Wan Kwok and Miles Guo — served as a financial backer of Bannon, allowing the right-wing firebrand to live on his yacht and promoting Bannon's various media projects to his social-media audience of Chinese dissidents. Evidence in Guo's criminal fraud case in Manhattan shows Guo told his followers to watch some of Bannon's other documentaries, but no discussion of Epstein appears in the records.
A representative for Leon Black, the former CEO of Apollo Global Management who maintained a relationship with Jeffrey Epstein, told BI that Bannon never asked for money from Black, adding that Bannon did not have a camera during the one occasion when Black and others met with Bannon in Epstein's home. The representative said that the meeting took place shortly after the strategist left the White House and that the group discussed politics.
David Bossie, the president of the right-wing advocacy group Citizens United, who produced other Bannon media projects around this period, didn't respond to a request for comment.
Ghislaine Maxwell and Jeffrey Epstein.
US Attorney's Office for the Southern District of New York
Though the footage would offer a window into the final months of Epstein's life, it doesn't appear to have been subpoenaed for any legal cases involving him or his estate.
Bobbi Sternheim, an attorney for Ghislaine Maxwell, said federal prosecutors didn't subpoena the footage for Maxwell's trial, which was part of the same criminal investigation into Epstein.
Gloria Allred and Arick Fudali, two other attorneys who each represent numerous Epstein victims, also each said they were not aware of the footage being subpoenaed in any case. An attorney representing Epstein's estate executors didn't respond to a request for comment. David Schoen, an attorney who represented both Bannon and Epstein, told BI in an email that he didn't know anything about the footage.
Brad Edwards, an attorney who represents dozens of Epstein's accusers in numerous lawsuits, said the footage hadn't been a part of any of his cases — yet.
"To my knowledge nobody has served a subpoena on Bannon for them, but I see no reason why not," he told BI in an email.
However, he wrote, "there are a couple pending cases now where those tapes will likely be subpoenaed."
Bannon planned to rehabilitate Epstein's reputation
Bannon's time in Epstein's orbit was recounted in the book "Too Famous," published in October 2021 by Michael Wolff, who heavily relied on Bannon as a source for his books about Trump's White House.
In a section titled "Monster," Wolff wrote that Bannon sought to change the public perception of Epstein.
Bannon believed Epstein needed a public-facing communications strategy in response to Julie K. Brown's "Perversion of Justice" series in the Miami Herald. Brown reported Alexander Acosta, who, as a US attorney in Florida in the 2000s, oversaw a criminal investigation into the financier, arranged a light plea deal even though law-enforcement agents were aware that Epstein had abused dozens of girls. Acosta resigned from his position as labor secretary in the Trump administration following the publication of the series.
Wolff's book says that in a March 2019 conference call, Bannon, Epstein, former Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak, and Epstein's defense attorney Reid Weingarten discussed whether Epstein should give a primetime TV interview. They floated the idea of going on CBS's "60 Minutes" or interviewing with Rachel Maddow or Gayle King, Wolff reported.
At one point, Wolff wrote, Epstein "made the gesture of the noose above his head" to express his distaste at the idea of being interviewed by King.
Former Trump White House advisor Steve Bannon.
Patrick Semansky/AP
According to the book, Bannon said that recording videos would help Epstein prepare for an interview that would convince the world "he's not a monster."
"He's got to sit there and watch the tape all the time, that's how you learn," Bannon said, according to Wolff. "This is like preparing for a deposition, except this is preparing for the court of public opinion."
Wolff's book includes long excerpts of conversations between Epstein and Bannon, as well as descriptions of Epstein's activities during the time he was close with Bannon. The book does not disclose whether Wolff viewed Bannon's footage.
Quotes in the book suggest that during sit-down interviews with Bannon, Epstein created an air of mystery: He was evasive about his interactions with girls, declined to name the wealthy people he advised on financial issues, and said he'd "escorted" Princess Diana "on occasion."
Bannon also said he believed Epstein was an "intelligence asset," though it doesn't describe any evidence he offered to support the claim.
Bannon, who was the chairman of Trump's 2016 presidential campaign, believed Epstein knew "dangerous secrets about Trump," Wolff wrote.
"You were the only person I was afraid of during the campaign," Bannon told Epstein, according to Wolff's book.
Wolff wrote that Epstein said Trump "regaled him with the torrid details" of his sexual encounter with E. Jean Carroll in Bergdorf Goodman in the mid-1990s. A civil jury last year found Trump liable for sexually abusing Carroll in the Manhattan department store and defaming her by lying about it.
Wolff wrote that Bannon also appeared skeptical of Epstein's many stories.
"Come on, dude. This is a stinking fish." Bannon told his camera operator, according to Wolff.
"God, it's all such bullshit. Nothing makes any sense in this story," he reportedly said. "Which is what makes it so fucking compelling."
Ryan Reynolds at the "Deadpool & Wolverine" photocall in London.
Dave Benett/WireImage
Ryan Reynolds said he "let go of getting paid" for "Deadpool" to pay his co-writers.
The 2016 Marvel movie raked in $782 million worldwide and spawned a franchise worth over $1 billion.
An analyst said there's an "expectation" that "Deadpool & Wolverine" could make $1 billion.
Ryan Reynolds said he "let go of getting paid" for "Deadpool" because he was determined to make the film and used his salary to pay his co-writers.
Now, the franchise is worth over $1 billion, a figure that a film industry analyst told Business Insider the upcoming sequel "Deadpool & Wolverine," out on July 26, could make on its own.
The film partners Reynolds' foul-mouthed mercenary Deadpool with Hugh Jackman's Wolverine in an adventure that brings the "X-Men" characters into the Marvel Cinematic Universe following Disney's acquisition of Fox.
Reynolds told The New York Times ahead of the film's release that he didn't get paid for the first installment so the co-writers could be on set to ensure its quality.
"No part of me was thinking when 'Deadpool' was finally greenlit that this would be a success. I even let go of getting paid to do the movie just to put it back on the screen," he said.
"They wouldn't allow my co-writers Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick on set, so I took the little salary I had left and paid them to be on set with me so we could form a de facto writers' room," he added.
Reynolds also acknowledged that many Hollywood blockbusters have huge, inflated budgets, which limit the creativity of the people responsible for bringing them to life.
"I think one of the great enemies of creativity is too much time and money, and that movie had neither time nor money. It really fostered focusing on character over spectacle, which is a little harder to execute in a comic-book movie," Reynolds said.
An analyst says there's an 'expectation' that 'Deadpool & Wolverine' will make $1 billion
Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman in "Deadpool & Wolverine."
Jay Maidment/20th Century/Marvel Studios
Rob Mitchell, director of theatrical insights at Gower Street Analytics, told BI that "'Deadpool' was seen as a big risk," but said that an actor like Reynolds putting their own money into a movie is "not uncommon."
"They're basically saying, 'I won't take money up front. I am basically putting my money where my mouth is. If it's a success, I make money down the line.' That is not uncommon, particularly with some big-name actors. But it's probably less common in superhero franchises," he said.
Mitchell noted that aside from 1998's "Blade," R-rated comic book movies "were an oxymoron" prior to "Deadpool." But Reynolds' faith in the movie paid off because it proved to studios that a violent comic book movie could work.
According to Box Office Mojo, the first "Deadpool" movie made $782 million worldwide against a $58 million budget in 2016, thanks to the character's signature fourth-wall-breaking humor and well-choreographed, violent action scenes.
The 2018 sequel, "Deadpool 2," was given $110 million to play with and raked in $785 million. So, the billion-dollar franchise was worth Reynolds' initial gamble.
Mitchell also pointed out that this success paved the way for Jackman's bloody 2017 Wolverine movie, "Logan," and Warner Bros.' "Joker" in 2019 — the first R-rated movie to make $1 billion at the box office.
"I think there's a lot of expectation that 'Deadpool & Wolverine' could be the second one to do that," Mitchell added.
Lithuania was ranked the happiest country under 30s in the World Happiness Report 2024.
yegorovnick/Shutterstock
Aivaras Vilutis, 28, grew up in Lithuania and moved to Vilnius, the country's capital, as an adult.
He shares why he thinks Lithuania was ranked the happiest place on earth for under 30s.
Vilutis says the outdoor culture, growing startup and tech scene and busy social life are crucial.
This as-told-to essay is based on a transcribed conversation with a digital marketer Aivaras Vilutis, about being a 28-year-old living in Vilnius, Lithuania. The following has been edited for length and clarity.
I grew up in a small Lithuanian town but moved to the capital, Vilnius, for university. I've lived here most of my adult life.
Vilnius is a growing city full of opportunities. Compared to smaller Lithuanian cities, it has more jobs and events, and there's a constant influx of new people.
Recently, Lithuania topped the World Happiness Report ranking for under 30s, with the country's young people rating themselves 7.76 out of 10 on the happiness scale. I completely understand why, especially as a young person living in Vilnius.
Young people can study for free in Lithuania
When I was in high school, most classmates planned to either learn a trade in college or go to university.
The state funds higher education in public institutions. As long as you pass your national exams during high school, you can apply to a state-funded university with free tuition.
Although our degrees are specialized, you can still change your mind and switch degrees. I initially studied creativity communication but changed my mind. Because I'd completed less than half of my credits for the degree, I could still switch to a new bachelor's and complete it free of charge. This is the standard practice in Lithuanian universities. Our education system didn't put me in a box. I started and completed a degree in neurophysics.
If I had completed more than half the credits for my degree, I would have had to pay to start another degree.
During my four-year neurophysics bachelor's degree, I did several paid internships in science labs and traveled abroad for a semester at NASA, which the university paid for.
When I did an International Internship for NASA in America, people said they appreciated how specialized Lithuanian degrees were, which showed me that our education system is respected internationally.
I left university without any debt, giving me a strong financial start.
There are lots of job opportunities for young people
Lithuania has plenty of laser, medical, and customer support industries that have been around for years. They're still thriving and generating new job opportunities.
We're also becoming a major tech hub. Startups and tech companies are booming in cities like Vilnius, Kaunas, and Klaipėda.
Lithuania is home to unicorn companies like Vinted and Nord Security, and the government has started investing in tech development through national programs. My first job after university was in tech at a simultaneous language interpretation company. I've also worked in digital advertising.
Vilnius is an affordable location for young people
While working in Vilnius, I've earned more than my parents did in their small town. Salaries aren't as high as in Western Europe, but they align with the lower cost of living.
I never worried about money on my digital advertising salary. I ordered takeaway for most dinners and never turned down a social event for money reasons. I've still been able to travel to western countries as well as to cheaper destinations in Eastern Europe.
When I briefly lived in America and other European countries, the cost of everything seemed really high compared to Vilnius.
I can find a place to rent on my own in Vilnius for 600 euros a month. Although I'm not looking to buy a house, my parents bought a two-bedroom apartment eight years ago for around 80,000 euros. House prices are more expensive now, but still cheaper than in other European cities.
Going out with friends is cheap, making for a great social life. A beer costs five euros, and an average restaurant meal costs 10 euros.
As a single person, I can spend as little as 40 euros a week on groceries.
My friends and I attend several concerts or festivals a month because they are either free or very cheap. Nightclub entry is often 10 euros or less.
The capital city is lively and inclusive
Autumn and winter can be very cold in Lithuania. People get excited by the first snowfall of the year, but they also tend to socialize less than they do in the spring and summer. The occasional person experiences seasonal depression when the seasons change, and people go out less, but most appreciate this calmer time.
In Vilnius, outdoor cafés stretch throughout the Old Town, with people catching up over espresso that is just as good as in Italy.
The mix of city and nature is perfectly balanced. There are beautiful outdoor areas, and I run in the woods every morning.
In the summer, my friends and I flock to one of the many lakes scattered around Vilnius.
The city is home to many young people and is more multicultural than other parts of the country, so it feels more open to minorities.
As a member of the LGBTQ+ community, I find Vilnius very safe. People from the LGBTQ+ community move to the city because it's a younger, more accepting demographic, and the culture is more vibrant here. Living in a post-Soviet country, it's difficult to change the views of older people.
I prefer Vilnius to other places I've lived as a young person
I love my country. I have lived elsewhere, including in Portugal, America, and Italy, but I always wanted to return to Vilnius. I missed the hipster bars, Lithuanian craft beer, and the forest greenery. It is the happiest place for me as a young person.
However, outside Vilnius, the situation isn't as good for young people. It's less diverse, and there aren't the same opportunities, so young people often move to bigger cities.
I don't think people in old age would classify Lithuania as one of the happiest places in the world. They don't want to leave, either, but in regional areas, there are fewer opportunities for them. The generation spent most of their lives in the Soviet era and was not exposed to the same opportunities as we are now.
I would love Lithuania to become more multicultural. Our happiness ranking for under 30s is great publicity, but I'm not sure it will encourage people to move here.
You have to live in Vilnius to really understand how welcoming and wonderful the city is. There is a vibe here unlike any other place I have visited or lived.
Companies in Nantong, China, have been accused of getting female job applicants take pregnancy tests as part of pre-employment physical exams.
ViewStock/Getty Images
Chinese firms have been accused of making job applicants take pregnancy tests.
Prosecutors in Jiangsu investigated 16 companies in Nantong, according to Procuratorial Daily.
This contradicts China's push for higher pregnancy rates amid declining national birth rates.
Several Chinese companies have been accused of introducing a controversial and illegal new step to their recruitment process: Pregnancy tests.
Prosecutors in Nantong, a city in the province of Jiangsu, investigated 16 companies which they said had 168 candidates take pregnancy tests as part of physical pre-employment exams, according to a report by state-run outlet Procuratorial Daily, cited by CNN and South China Morning Post (SCMP).
The Tongzhou district launched the investigation into the unnamed companies earlier this year after being tipped off by a public litigation group, the report said.
Prosecutors said they looked into a physical exam center and two hospitals, the latter of which reported that the women were only given vague verbal warnings and no written confirmation about the tests, the publication said.
In one instance, a woman who was tested and found to be pregnant was not initially hired, according to staff and insurance records cited by the prosecutors in the report.
However, the report added that the woman was later hired and given compensation after the unnamed company was warned about its behavior.
"We can speculate from this evidence that the pregnancy tests were required by these companies, and it had violated women's rights to equal work opportunities," the prosecutors said, according to SCMP.
The report didn't mention whether any companies involved had been fined. As CNN and SCMP reported, Chinese companies can be fined up to 50,000 yuan, or around $6,900, for gender discrimination.
Business Insider could not verify the reports.
The reported anti-pregnancy strategy contradicts the Chinese government's push for women to have more children amid falling birth rates.
"Let's face it, having a child is like owning an investment with no guaranteed return for at least 18 years," Chen, a Chinese venture capital analyst, told BI in February.
"There's just so much to explore in this world, so much to do in this very short life that I don't see myself taking on the responsibility of having children," Huang, a content creator, told BI.
However, according to Human Rights Watch, those who are choosing to have children are facing discrimination.
It said that after China scrapped its one-child policy several years ago, the majority of women surveyed by various Chinese companies and women's groups said they had been subjected to discrimination.
"Numerous women have described, on social media, to the Chinese media, or in court documents, their experiences being asked about their childbearing status during job interviews, being forced to sign contracts pledging not to get pregnant, and being demoted or fired for being pregnant," it said.
Nicole Johnson and her brother were raised by their grandparents.
Courtesy Nicole Johnson
My grandparents raised me and my brother, and they were older than my friends' parents.
They were more strict than other parents, but there were also benefits to their age.
They also became loving and affectionate great grandparents to my kids.
I can't remember the first time I realized how different my family was from my friends' families, but the feeling followed me right into college and my adult life afterward. My parents both had drug addictions and split up by the time I was 10 months old. My father got remarried and disappeared from my life, and my mother retreated to what seemed like the other side of the world, Southern California. She died of a drug overdose when I was 7.
In my parent's absence, my grandparents raised me and my brother. We also had an extended family helping out and a foster mother, Esther, who started taking us during the week when my grandmother went to work. Soon, we stayed with Est and her three biological children on weekends and for certain holidays.
I always felt like my family was different
We lived in a city just outside Boston and were not what the 1980s nuclear family we were surrounded by looked like. I wanted so desperately to be normal. On the sitcoms I grew up with, kids went to their moms and dads to help solve whatever problems they had. Then, 30 minutes later — 22, if you don't count commercials — the issue was fixed.
Most of my friends had a mother and a father. I watched them go to father-daughter dances. Some of their parents were divorced but still involved in their lives. They didn't have to wonder who to make the card out to for Mother's Day or if they could make two because they didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings by leaving them out. I never saw them ask how to get a Father's Day card to their dad because they didn't have his address. For Mother's Day, I went to the cemetery, stole flowers from a random gravesite, and searched for my mother's grave. I never found her.
While I loved my grandparents, being raised by them was confusing to me and to every parent who ever asked if they could call my mom about a sleepover or check in about a bake sale. Every time I made a new friend, it also meant making a fresh introduction to my unusual family. "No, I don't have a mother," I remember saying so often it seemed to become a cursory part of any conversation I had with my friends' parents.
"Who do you live with?" They would ask as confusion was replaced with sadness when I answered.
My grandparents were strict; they came from a different generation when kids had adult responsibilities. I could cook dinner at 10 and knew how to wash and hang curtains. I spent the Saturdays of my youth cleaning the house alongside my grandmother, who believed cleanliness was next to Godliness. Sometimes my friends would come to see if I could play, and I would have to send them away in what felt like a Cinderella moment.
They were different from my friends' parents. They dressed differently, listened to music from a different era, and held beliefs based on how and when they were raised. My grandmother and grandfather were the children of immigrants. They had witnessed the Great Depression and World War II. Hard work and their belief in God were the standards they lived and died by. They didn't care to discuss mental health, believed kids should be seen and not heard, and we've always had different political views.
Nicole Johnson and her brother were raised by their grandparents.
Courtesy Nicole Johnson
There were benefits to being raised by my grandparents
While being raised differently from most of my peers wasn't easy, it also had benefits. It was through my grandparents that I learned some of my greatest lessons. I knew the words to every single song from the 1950s and 1960s.
When my friends and I went through a phase where we were obsessed with the 1950s, I had access to people who lived through the era and looked back on it fondly. My grandparents even allowed me to have a 1950s birthday party where we played their records and learned their dances.
My friends loved my grandparents, who were always eager to have them over for dinner or a sleepover, as long as chores were done. My grandmother loved to sit and talk with us and hear the latest gossip. Being raised by my grandparents also gave me an appreciation for hard work and seeing things through.
Gram and Gramps also went on to become caring and attentive great grandparents to my kids. Because of them, I had a place to grow up alongside my extended family. I am forever grateful, even if my childhood didn't look the same as my friends.
Summer is the season for socializing in Chicago, Aley Clark says.
Courtesy of Aley Clark
Aley Clark is a writer who relocated from South Carolina to Chicago in March 2023.
Her TikTok following helped her make friends in the Windy City.
But when winter rolls round, it's hard to socialize, she said. People just want to stay indoors.
This as-told-to article is based on a conversation with Aley Clark, a lifestyle and wellness writer and content creator who relocated from South Carolina to Chicago in March 2023. It has been edited for length and clarity.
I moved from Moncks Corner in South Carolina to Chicago in March 2023.
I really just needed a new start. The south is pretty slow and I felt very stagnant there. I wasn't really growing. It felt like it was time to go, and I just always had an itch for bigger cities.
I'm a lifestyle and wellness writer. I can write from anywhere.
I didn't have any close friends in Chicago before I moved. It was a fresh start.
Aley Clark stands in front of a framed piece of artwork in her apartment in Chicago
Courtesy of Aley Clark
Meeting new people is like a muscle you tap into. I did it when I moved to New York and LA. I've also lived in Indiana and North Carolina.
A lot of the connections that I've been able to make in Chicago happened because of social media. It did a lot of the legwork. People are starting to engage in my content on TikTok, and so it's helping to translate into real life.
When I first moved to Chicago, I was going a lot of places by myself and putting myself out there and speaking to people and then hopefully making a connection.
But there's a season for connecting here, and you have to get on top of it because people are outside for the summer. Once people are inside, you're barely going out, and you're barely going to connect with people. All those coffee meetups and "let's go get drinks" — it's done for the dark of the winter.
[Chicago is famed for its cold winters. From 1991 to 2020, Chicago had an average daily maximum temperature in January of 31.6 degrees Fahrenheit and a minimum of 18.8, according to the National Weather Service.]
When I first moved to Chicago in March 2023, it was still winter, and it was cold, so there really wasn't a lot of socializing.
I think I got a little bit spoiled this winter because a lot of Chicagoans were saying this winter really was light. So that extended the social season a little bit for me, and I was able to take advantage of that because I would still go out.
But when the new year hit, I was indoors, I was not doing anything. I live by myself. It was too cold to even think to leave the house, even think to hang out with friends. I was just at home nesting, enjoying my own space.
On the days that we had that were a little bit warmer and above freezing, I was making an effort to continue to meet people.
It was actually a lot easier making friends in LA. Once you find out somebody is a transplant in LA, it's just really easy to connect with them. When I was in LA, I was a part of some different communities, including a community church group. Plus, work allowed me to connect with different people. That really helped to bring my social circle together.
I am still trying to figure out what it means to build community in Chicago. I'm doing that through my wellness collective, Black Girl Playground. It serves as a digital and physical third place, with play, joy, and creativity at the forefront. I feel like I'm in my own social experiment, trying to build community.
When JD Vance won the Ohio Senate race in 2022, he trailed other statewide Republicans by significant margins.
Anna Moneymaker/Getty Images
The Midwest is a major area of focus for Democrats and Republicans in the 2024 presidential race.
GOP leaders believe Trump's selection of Ohioan JD Vance as his running mate will boost him in the region.
But Vance ran far behind other Republicans in his 2022 Senate race, especially in the suburbs.
After former President Donald Trump tapped Sen. JD Vance as his running mate on Monday, all eyes turned to the 39-year-old Ohio Republican who was elected to office less than two years ago.
In 2022, Vance was mostly known for his best-selling memoir, "Hillbilly Elegy." But after Trump backed him in the GOP primary that year, the first-time candidate surged in the contest and went on to face then-Democratic Rep. Tim Ryan in the general election.
Many Republicans saw Vance as a candidate who would be able to easily connect with the blue-collar workers who generally decide election results in Ohio, the onetime quintessential Midwestern battleground that in recent years has taken on a redder tint.
However, the race between Vance and Ryan remained extremely competitive until the end, even as other statewide Republicans had cakewalk victories that year.
That race may be a distant memory to some Republicans, but it shows that Vance's candidacy presents some notable risks for the party as it looks to retake the White House this fall.
The mantle of populism
In 2022, Ryan, who hails from the blue-collar Mahoning Valley, ran an aggressive campaign where he hammered Republicans over the economy and sought to claim dominance over Vance on the issue.
Ryan's focus was centered squarely on Ohio. He eschewed national Democrats, preferring to campaign alongside fellow Ohioan and Sen. Sherrod Brown instead of traveling the state with President Joe Biden. And he courted Republicans and conservative-leaning Independents, arguing that he wouldn't be beholden to his party.
It was the sort of populist mantle that Vance in many ways was also looking to capture.
But Vance's populism was largely tied to Trump's "America First" policies, especially as it related to the economy and foreign policy. Trump handily won Ohio in both 2016 and 2020, but Vance in his Senate race struggled to break away from Ryan, despite Biden's unpopularity in the Buckeye State and the state's GOP lean.
While Vance won the race that November, the extent of his struggles were on full display on Election night.
Vance defeated Ryan by 6 points.
But Republican Gov. Mike DeWine defeated his Democratic opponent, former Dayton mayor Nan Whaley, by 25 points. And both Attorney General Dave Yost and Secretary of State Frank LaRose were reelected by roughly 20 points.
Ryan was undoubtedly a strong candidate, but Vance's underperformance relative to other Ohio Republicans was quite stark. One might even argue that DeWine's coattails helped carry Vance over the finish line as Ryan clearly won over many voters who also backed statewide Republican officeholders.
What does the result say about Vance's broader appeal?
The suburban-rural divide
This fall, Republicans are hoping to make inroads with suburban voters, despite their past aversion to Trump and the more socially-conservative candidates who have embraced his views.
Trump is hoping that economic concerns will bring some Independents and Democratic-leaning swing voters to his side.
And Republicans believe Vance's presence on the GOP ticket will make a difference Michigan, Wisconsin, and Pennsylvania — especially in exurban and rural areas — and boost the ex-president.
But in urban and suburban communities across Ohio, Vance was swamped by Ryan in the Senate race.
In the Cincinnati-area, where Vance lives, Ryan won populous Hamilton County by nearly 16 points.
In Franklin County, anchored by Columbus, Ryan won by 32 points.
And in Cuyahoga County, which includes Cleveland and its inner-ring suburbs, Ryan emerged victorious by nearly 36 points.
On several issues — from abortion rights to aid for Ukraine — Vance has taken positions that are well to the right of those held by many suburbanites.
Vance hailed the Supreme Court decision that overturned Roe v. Wade — a problematic position for many moderates — and he has praised Trump's decision to leave the issue of abortion to the states.
The Ohio senator has also been a staunch opponent of providing aid to Ukraine, a position that has endeared him to Trumpworld but is a far departure from the position of GOP leaders like Sens. Mitch McConnell of Kentucky and John Thune of South Dakota.
While Vance is poised be a big asset to Trump in rural Rust Belt locales, the senator has so far not shown much strength in suburban areas, where Democrats are aiming to run up their margins.
Republicans aren't going to give up on the suburbs this year. But Vance's Senate underperformance in Ohio gives Democrats hope that they can stave off the GOP ticket as they look to November.
Elizabeth is a welder based in Alberta, who chose to go into a trade job over a corporate role.
Elizabeth
Elizabeth is a Gen Z welder who chose a career in the trades over going to college.
She says being a welder not only pays well but is great for getting physically fit.
She and her partner live in a roof tent in Alberta, allowing them to fulfill their dream of working and living outdoors.
This is an as-told-to essay based on a conversation with Elizabeth, 23, who opted for a career in welding instead of going to college. She lives and works in Alberta, Canada. She wishes to keep her last name anonymous, but Business Insider has verified her identity and employment.
I always knew I didn't want a desk job. I love getting outside and getting my hands dirty so going to college never interested me.
By chance, when I was 18, right out of high school, I was introduced to a beginners course for young women to encourage them to get into trade jobs.
The three-and-a-half-month course taught us the basics of a whole range of trades: automotive, plumbing, carpentry, joinery, welding, and ironworking. In-class sessions also taught us how to use blueprints and how to make resumes.
From the moment I started, I knew welding was my trade.
There are loads of different types of welding, but at its basic level, it's about fusing two metals together with a hot torch.
I was drawn to that hot, tough aspect of it, of constantly having your head down in the heat. It's hard work and requires you to be precise — that kind of intensity was something I was looking for in a job.
You get to take scrap metal and turn it into something really cool by yourself.
It also helps that the job pays really well. I now earn around $3,000 CAD ($2,000 USD) a week from welding alone.
Welding is great on the body
Elizabeth opted to take a course in welding rather than going to college.
Elizabeth
After I finished school and the introductory course, I sent out a bunch of resumes. I already had some industry contacts — from part-time trade work I'd done during high school, so finding a job was a little easier for me than for some of my peers.
While some people were chasing the highest-paid jobs, I just wanted to get my foot in the door.
My mentality was: get experience first, the money will come later.
I managed to do that, and I've jumped around various welding jobs since graduating.
I'm killing my body every day, but it's worth it because welders make insane money, and I'm getting jacked doing it.
I'm constantly moving and climbing, so my abs are getting more ripped, and my butt is getting bigger.
I can see the hard work paying off physically; it's great for the body.
I'm covered in bruises and scratches from the job — I'm definitely pretty beat up. But it makes me super strong, and getting to work outside is a real perk. Earning money while spending time out in the beautiful Alberta scenery makes me feel incredibly grateful for this job.
I love this job, but it's definitely not easy being a woman in this industry
She says that she still faces challenges being a woman in the trades.
I'm often the only woman on most of my sites; there are few women in the trades in general and even fewer in welding.
You need a lot of patience and self-respect to get by.
I've had male coworkers scream at me and belittle me at work, and few procedures are in place to prevent this. You just need to ensure you have a good supervisor who knows you work hard and respects you.
That's why I'm super lucky in my current job. My supervisor approached me in my first week to say, "If anybody is bugging you, let me know because I will get rid of them immediately."
Sure, it's the bare minimum, but it's refreshing in this industry.
I work 10 hours a day, 7 days a week
She starts work at 7 a.m. and works until around 5:30 p.m.
Elizabeth
Having a supportive employer like my current one makes such a difference. You work unrelenting days, so the last thing you want is to have to put up with harassment on site.
I've been in this job for two years, and I work with my partner, who's also in the trades. We've been camping in his roof tent and living out of our trucks across small towns in Alberta, which lets us save as much money as possible and not be too tied to one place.
The day starts at 6 a.m. when we pack up our tentand get our pet animals ready to go. Then, we make ourselves a smoothie and head to the site.
We pull up to work around 7 a.m., parking in a grassy area so we can leave our animals to roam around.
Each working day starts with a safety meeting; then, you're assigned tasks and gear up. We work 10 hours a day, 7 days a week.
By 5:30 p.m., we clock off, head to town for a shower, and head back to set up the campsite, have dinner, go to bed, and do it all again the next day.
Camping means we can bank all our money
Living out of our trucks isn't the most comfortable setup, but it means we get to pocket our Living Out Allowance — a daily tax-free sum, which can be as much as $205, from our employer that goes toward accommodation and food as we work away at different sites across the province.
For most people, that money gets swallowed up on accommodation, but camping means we can bank it.
With that money plus the money we earn from my job, I'm clearing thousands of dollars every two weeks, and my partner makes even more as a journeyman.
None of our peers are making as much money as we are because nobody else has the balls to camp.
For me, the ability to move around is a huge perk of the job. I can't stay in one place; I want to see more places, even if those places are just tiny towns around Alberta.
Career progression in welding
Elizabeth said she is aiming to gain new trade qualifications, and hopes that one day she can have her own business.
Elizabeth
Next, I want to get my next three Red Seals in welding, ironworking, and crane operating. These basically allow you to be fully certified to work as a tradesperson on any job: more tickets, more money. To get those, I'll have to go back to do more training and do more exams.
The long, hard days mean I don't have much time for other hobbies. The one thing I do love doing is posting about my job on TikTok. I find making video edits so fun, and it's a nice way to share my experiences as a female welder with other people.
There are definitely people who give me hate for posting about my job online. They assume I'm not working hard and accuse me of being unsafe and distracted on-site.
But it's just fun to share what I do and show that there's not just one way to be a welder.
Within welding, my dream would be to own a business focused on getting women into the trades. My experiences in the industry have shown me how necessary it is to help reshape this industry to include more women.
Why should we be pushed out when there's all this money to be made?
WNBA fans are spending big to watch Caitlin Clark and the Indiana Fever play. But tickets are a bargain at her home arena in Indianapolis.
David Berding/Getty Images
WNBA fans are shelling out hundreds of dollars to watch Caitlin Clark play.
But tickets for her remaining home games in Indianapolis cost less than $30 on average.
A sports economist says the disparity is due to Clark's novelty, stadium capacity, and market size.
Ticket prices to watch WNBA star Caitlin Clark and the Indiana Fever are breaking records. But there's one place where you can see the basketball star play at a big discount — her home arena.
On June 23, when the Fever faced off against the Sky in Chicago, the average ticket price was around $250 — the most expensive average ticket price ever for a WNBA game — according to the ticket resale marketplace TickPick. In comparison, the Fever's home debut in Indianapolis on May 16 cost fans as little as $14 to attend on Ticketmaster.
This is indicative of a larger trend. The Fever have 15 regular season games remaining — nine home and six away. On average, the cheapest home ticket is listed at about $28, per the ticket resale marketplace VividSeats. For the road games, it's $173.
It's not uncommon for star athletes like Clark to drive soaring ticket prices when they play away from home. Some of it comes down to supply and demand. Chicago fans only get two chances to see the Fever play the entire season, while Indianapolis fans have 20 regular season home games to choose from. However, the size of the Fever's home-road price split is much more unusual.
In 2015, for example, the Cleveland Cavaliers had the most expensive road ticket price in the NBA midway through the season: $246 on average. Many attributed this to the "LeBron effect" — fans were willing to spend big to see Cavaliers star LeBron James. However, the team's average home ticket cost even more — $249.
At least three factors — Clark's WNBA growing pains, stadium capacity, and market size — have contributed to this phenomenon, according to Victor Matheson, a sports economist at the College of the Holy Cross.
Some Indianapolis fans might only want to see Clark play once
Matheson said there's one factor that might best explain the Fever's home-road ticket disparity: He said economists call it "diminishing marginal utility."
"Everyone wants to see Clark once, but she is a bit of a novelty in that her fame is quite a bit higher than her skill at this point, so not as many people want to see her a second time," Matheson told Business Insider via email. "That means she is a hot ticket on the road where people are seeing her for the first time, but not as big a draw at home where everyone has now had a chance to see her once."
During her senior season at the University of Iowa in 2023-24, Clark broke the NCAA's scoring record and led her team to the national championship game. She averaged over 31 points and eight assists per game and shot roughly 38% from three-point range. Her sensational play hooked fans — and has been credited for the record-breaking viewership women's college basketball saw last season.
While her popularity has translated over to the WNBA in terms of viewership and attendance, her play hasn't been at quite the same level it was in college. In her rookie season, Clark is averaging roughly 17 points and eight assists per gamefor the Fever and shooting 33% from three-point range.
However, Matheson said ticket demand for the team's home games could increase as Clark and her team progress this season and in the years to come. The Fever have the WNBA's seventh-best record so far this season among 12 teams.
"As her skill grows and her team improves, she has a real chance to turn from a novelty into a true superstar where fans both at home and away can't get enough of her," Matheson said. "But time will tell."
The Fever have a bigger stadium than most WNBA teams
The limited number of opportunities for road fans to see Clark play isn't the only supply-demand factor that could be impacting ticket prices.
WNBA arenas with more seats can sell more tickets. If two arenas have the same level of ticket demand, the one with more seatscould, in theory, have lower ticket prices.
With a maximum seating capacity of nearly 18,000 fans, the Fever's Gainbridge Fieldhouse in Indianapolis — also home to the NBA's Indiana Pacers — is the fifth biggest arena in the WNBA among its 12 teams, per the sports content platform Sportskeeda. The average capacity of a WNBA arena is about 12,000.
So it's possible the Fever's above-average arena size could be helping to keep home prices in check — and their opponents's smaller arenas could be propping up the prices of the team's road games.
But Matheson said this doesn't tell the whole story. In part, that's because some WNBA teams with smaller seating capacities have ditched their arenas when the Fever came to town so they could accommodate more fans.
"Fever opponents have been frequently moving home games against Clark into larger arenas," Matheson said. "For example, the Washington Mystics moved their June 7 game out of the Entertainment and Sports Arena into 20,000-plus seat Capital One Arena, and sold it out at sky-high prices."
Tickets cost less in smaller markets
Things tend to cost more in cities like New York than they do in Indianapolis, including ticket prices.
In the NBA, for example, Matheson said ticket prices for New York Knicks home games can be more than $100 more expensive on average than Indiana Pacers home games.
One of the reasons for this is that the Knicks and Pacers have the same number of home games, but New York City's population is nearly 10 times the size of Indianapolis's. Much more demand for similar ticket supply — the Knicks's arena is a bit larger — is among the reasons Knicks tickets tend to cost more than Pacers tickets.
It's possible that, to some degree, Fever home ticket prices have been kept in check by the Indianapolis market. But market size doesn't appear to fully explain the team's home-road ticket disparity.
For example, the New York Liberty have the best record in the WNBA and recently set a home attendance record in a game against the Sky. But the cheapest listed, average ticket price for the Liberty's remaining homes games is about $31 — only slightly higher than the Fever's $28.
If the home ticket prices for a popular WNBA team in a big market aren't much higher than the Fever's, perhaps market size isn't a huge price driver. On the other hand, it's possible that Clark — with her unique level of popularity — would drive the Liberty's home ticket prices well above $31 if she was on the team.
"I would say some, but certainly not all, of the disparity is market size," Matheson said.
Have you figured out a creative way to attend sporting events on a budget? Are you willing to share your story? If so, reach out to this reporter at jzinkula@businessinsider.com.