12 things to know about Tim Walz, the Midwestern dad who coined the biggest insult of 2024

Walz built grain silos, worked in manufacturing, and processed mortgage loans until landing a temporary teaching position at a South Dakota Native American reservation inspired him to pursue a career in education.

Walz graduated from Chadron State College, a small public college, with a degree in social-science education in 1989.

After his work in China, Walz taught at a public high school in Alliance, Nebraska. There, he met his wife, Gwen Whipple, who was also a teacher. They got married in 1994 and moved to Minnesota, where they both began teaching at Mankato West High School.

Walz earned a master’s degree in educational leadership from Minnesota State University, Mankato, in 2001. He wrote his master’s thesis about Holocaust education and genocide studies.

In an interview with the Minneapolis Star Tribune, Walz said his children were conceived through fertility treatments at Minnesota’s Mayo Clinic. He shared the information after an Alabama Supreme Court ruled in February that frozen embryos were considered people, threatening access to fertility treatments in the state.

After seven years of fertility treatments, the couple welcomed their first child in 2001, a daughter named Hope. Their son, Gus, was born in 2006. In addition to their two kids, the Walz family also owns a rescue dog, Scout.

Throughout his 12 years in Congress, Walz developed a fairly centrist voting record, probably because of the conservative bent of his district. In each of his five reelection campaigns, Walz touted an “A” rating from the National Rifle Association but said his opinions had changed by the time he ran for governor.

The Hill reported that former Speaker Nancy Pelosi favored Walz over Harris’ other reported finalists, even though he didn’t always follow the speaker on the big votes of the era. In 2008, he opposed Bush’s $700 billion Wall Street bailout plan, saying it did not do enough for average homeowners. Walz supported President Barack Obama’s Affordable Care Act, which narrowly passed the House because of opposition from other conservative Democrats.

Walz was particularly interested in veterans’ issues during his time in Washington. He was the primary sponsor of five bills that were eventually enacted, two of which related to veterans’ care.

With his rural background and shock of white hair, some see Walz as a quintessential Midwestern dad. The vice-presidential nominee, however, proved that he’s capable of hurling a biting, resonant insult. After Harris flew to the top of the ticket, Republicans and Democrats alike started hurling a new insult back and forth: “weird.”

Sitting for an interview on “Morning Joe,” Walz was the first one to use the term when he described Donald Trump and JD Vance in simple terms: “These guys are just weird.” The word evidently struck a cultural chord, as it later appeared in campaign videos, X posts, and cable news segments.

Like much of Harris’ campaign, the competition to be her second-in-command played out in a stunningly public, accelerated way. She was reported to be deciding between a variety of contenders, including moderates from swing states who had attracted the ire of the Democratic Party’s more liberal wing.

Walz didn’t face the same opposition or risk ruffling the same feathers as other contenders. He proved himself an adept public speaker, able to quip about Trump in relatable terms and eloquently defend Harris’ record. Though Minnesota isn’t considered an especially competitive swing state and Walz was relatively unknown on the national stage, he’s able to appeal to rural voters and has extensive governing experience.