• Many TSA agents are working without pay during the partial government shutdown.
• Many others have stopped showing up for work. Over 400 have quit since mid-February.
• The result is long lines at airports. One traveler called their experience at JFK Airport a “complete disaster.”

One thing became clear to Jason Urasner as he waited over 90 minutes at a TSA checkpoint on Sunday: He was going to miss his flight.

“It is actual chaos,” Urasner, 40, told Business Insider. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Urasner had arrived at John F. Kennedy Airport in New York City that morning to board a JetBlue flight to Salt Lake City, but his plans were derailed by what he called a “complete disaster.”

“There is nobody directing anyone or managing the line. There are a few port authority officers standing around letting people in one by one to the main TSA line, but the line is coming from all directions,” Uranser said. “Most of the people who have actually been waiting in line aren’t even going anywhere.”

Airport workers at JFK’s Terminal 4 used baggage carts to ferry stanchions from one end of the building to the other as they redsigned lines to create more room for passengers to wait. Travelers watched as a digital clock estimating wait times continuously ticked up.

Some passengers used the time to sign up for CLEAR, a paid membership that costs more than $200 a year. It verifies travelers’ identities and allows them to bypass the standard TSA document check.

The potential for long waits and daunting lines is a new reality for travelers at US airports as the partial government shutdown drags on. The Department of Homeland Security, which oversees the TSA, remains unfunded as lawmakers debate immigration enforcement policy. That has left TSA officers unpaid for 5 weeks now. More than 400 TSA officers have quit since mid-February, according to The White House, compounding the ongoing staffing shortage and leading to disruptions at major airports.

On Sunday, US Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy said TSA officers can’t make ends meet on $0 paychecks. Their salaries start around $40,000 annually.

“They’re going to take other jobs to put food on the table and pay the rent,” Duffy said on “This Week with George Stephanopoulos.” “I do think it’s going to get much worse, and as it gets worse, I think that puts pressure on Congress to come to a resolution.”

It is not uncommon for travel chaos to motivate lawmakers to find a compromise to fund the government. During the last full government shutdown, an air traffic controller shortage ultimately forced an end to the impasse.

Urasner said he rebooked his flight for a Monday and was advised to arrive at 4 a.m., when TSA opens. Other travelers are facing similar challenges.

Lily Katzman, a senior editor on Business Insider’s Special Projects team, was stuck in a line at the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport early Sunday morning.

She joined the line at 6:45 a.m., more than five hours before her flight to Los Angeles.

“When I arrived at the airport, staff ushered everyone to the garage parking lot, where we joined a line that had already snaked twice around the entire first level of the lot. At this point, there was no TSA Pre-Check, and CLEAR was not allowing in-person registrations,” she said.

Katzman said she stood in line for about 90 minutes before being directed to another line.

“After we entered the airport, we learned that we still had to head up an escalator and enter another snaked line to security. We were told once you get inside, it’s up to another two hours on top of the time in the garage.”

New Orleans International on Sunday advised travelers to arrive at least three hours before their flight.

Amid the mounting disruption, President Donald Trump on Saturday said he will send ICE agents to replace TSA officers at airports nationwide. White House Border Czar Tom Homan confirmed the plan on CNN’s “State of the Union” on Sunday.

“We’ll have a plan by the end of today what airports we’re starting with and where we’re sending them,” Homan said.

The president of the American Federation of Government Employees, which includes TSA officers, criticized the decision in a statement on Sunday.

“Our members at TSA have been showing up every day, without a paycheck, because they believe in the mission of keeping the flying public safe,” Everett Kelley said. “They deserve to be paid, not replaced by untrained, armed agents who have shown how dangerous they can be.”

• I’ve taken eight workcations with my toddler over the past few years.
• Most trips left me juggling work, parenting, and nonstop logistics.
• A structured, paid kids’ club finally made the balance possible.

I’ve been taking working vacations for over a decade, long before the pandemic made them commonplace.

While the downside of working for myself is not getting any PTO days, the upside is being able to work remotely with flexible hours. Working from paradise, with a palapa shading my laptop from the sun’s glare, is one of my favorite things about being self-employed.

I realized that it would be more challenging once I became a single mom, but juggling work and a baby away from home turned out to be much harder than I realized.

I kept thinking it’d get easier

The first time I tried to take a working vacation with my daughter, she was 8 months old. I booked a flight to Hawaii, packed my laptop, and planned to work during her two naps and after she went to sleep for the night. I spent most of the week in Maui learning lessons the hard way — disconnecting the hotel room phone after a call interrupted her nap, dragging her from store to store trying to find baby medicine when she caught a cold, and departing exhausted after staying up most of each night working.

Over the next few years, I kept trying, thinking with each hard lesson learned that the next time would be easier. Now that my daughter, Via, is 3.5, I’ve attempted eight different workcations. Each time I start out hopeful that I’ve found the solution. But I’ve always ended up with three jobs on what is supposed to be a vacation: working, parenting, and solving logistics problems.

I tried kids’ clubs

Resort kids’ clubs were supposed to be the answer. I needed a predictable block of time each day where my daughter was otherwise entertained so I could focus on work. I booked hotels (and even a cruise) that advertised them prominently, flaunting photos of smiling children that made me feel less guilty for leaving my daughter on vacation.

As it turned out, those programs had their own challenges. Via wasn’t just nervous at the beginning; each day, she didn’t want to stay at the kids’ club and fought going back. At one resort, the website promised a nap room at the kids’ club, which was essential because Via still needed one midday. When we arrived, I was told the nap space was out of order. That meant I had to pick her up after just a couple of hours, put her down in our room myself, and then try to quickly finish work while she slept. On two separate trips, the kids’ club’s actual operating hours didn’t match what was posted online.

I paid $95 a day for our recent trip kids’ club

On our most recent trip, I didn’t expect much different, except I booked the six-day vacation at Club Med Cancún over a holiday weekend, strategically planning around a slower work period. It was the first time I’d booked a resort with a paid kids’ club instead of one where it was included. While the program for ages 4 and up had no additional charge, Petit Club Med, the option for 2 and 3-year-olds, costs $95 per day. So, I figured we’d try it out for just the one full workday we were on the property. At first, I was a little apprehensive about paying for a kids’ club after our past lackluster experiences, but it ended up being more than worth it.

The complimentary kids’ clubs I’d used before felt like drop-in playrooms, yet the Petit Club Med program was structured more like day care. They even included rest time in the schedule with a dedicated nap room. The difference completely changed the dynamic with my daughter.

At first, as usual at drop off, Via clung to my leg. I worried about her enough during the morning that I went to sneak a look at how she was doing. I was relieved to see her smiling and skipping to lunch with the rest of the kids. When I picked her up at 5 p.m., I really noticed the difference. Instead of waiting for me anxiously, she was engrossed in an activity and, when she noticed me, started talking excitedly about what she’d done that day. She loved it so much that she asked to go back the next day. I stood, stunned, taking in that moment with equal parts shock and relief.

I figured she would change her mind by the next day, but the following morning, she was still clamoring to go back. I wasn’t sure if I should take her; I had planned to spend the rest of the vacation together. But I was so happy that she loved going, I decided to bring her back. For the first time on a workcation, I found myself caught up on work and got to explore. I took a trapeze class, something that had caught my eye on the Club Med website before the trip, and borrowed a snorkel for a leisurely swim in the ocean.

When I picked up Via, she was once again glowing and happy from her day of adventures, and, for once, I was as well. For the remainder of our trip, we spent time together, and I felt like I could show up as the relaxed, carefree mom I’d always want to be on vacation.

Looking back at my past attempts, I don’t think I was overambitious to believe that a workcation could be enjoyable for both my daughter and me. I just had a lot to learn about how to prepare, structure the trip, and what to expect from kids’ clubs.

• I frequently travel to Italy, and last year I visited Bari, Puglia’s capital, for the first time.
• The city quickly became one of my favorites thanks to its walkability, nightlife, and beach access.
• I also love that Bari can serve as a base for day trips to stunning towns, like Polignano a Mare.

I’ve been in a love affair with Italy since my first visit there 20 years ago. After over 13 trips to Il Bel Paese — ticking Rome, Florence, Venice, and other popular destinations off the list — I yearned to explore different Italian destinations.

For my April 2025 trip, I landed on Bari, the capital of Puglia in southern Italy. I had never been despite already visiting nearby towns in the region like Lecce and Alberobello.

After nine glorious days there, I left smitten.

Here’s why the port city is currently my favorite place in Italy and why I’ve already started recommending it to fellow tourists.

Bari is a walkable city that’s easy to reach by plane or train.

Bari is a major city with its own airport, the Bari Karol Wojtyła Airport, and a well-connected train station called Bari Centrale. I arrived by plane after a brief visit to London and took a 20-minute train into the heart of the city. The whole experience was so easy.

As someone who doesn’t drive, I loved how accessible Bari is by foot, train, or bus. From Bari Centrale, I was able to walk everywhere I wanted to go, and Giardini di Piazza Umberto I, a beautiful park, is right outside the station.

It took me 10 minutes to walk to Murat, a modern neighborhood in the heart of Bari. I was immediately impressed by its beauty and took time to admire its Art Nouveau architecture. From Murat, it took only three minutes to reach Bari Vecchia, the historic old town.

A few blocks east is Lungomare e Murat, a scenic promenade that runs along the Adriatic Sea, and Porto Vecchio, a harbor where fishermen dock their boats and sell their catches of the day.

Being able to access different neighborhoods and landmarks directly from the train station without worrying about driving or taking public transportation made the entire trip seamless.

Cafés, shops, wine bars, and nightlife line Bari’s streets.

By day, the Murat district buzzes with people catching up at outdoor cafés, streaming into the iconic restaurant Mastro Ciccio for an octopus sandwich, and shopping at local boutiques. I love drinking coffee, so I treated myself to a mint-green Moka pot from Bialetti during my trip.

By night, the city comes alive. It has restaurants for a range of budgets, including L’Assassineria Urbana, which specializes in spaghetti all’assassina, a Barese dish that’s charred in a skillet in a fiery tomato sauce. Urbana offers 14 variations on the spicy spaghetti. To this day, I still dream about the meal I had there.

Murat also has plenty of wine and cocktail bars. I mellowed out with a glass of red at a restaurant called Milo and also popped into Chinato, a cocktail bar dedicated to vermouth. It offers a wide variety from different distillers.

The cocktail options are endless, but I stuck with a classic Negroni — its cool bittersweetness made it a perfect nightcap.

There’s an old town that exudes character and charm within walking distance.

Entering Bari Vecchia is like traveling back in time. I loved wandering the winding cobblestone alleys lined with medieval buildings.

When I was there, one particular alleyway — Strada Arco Basso — was lined with nonnas (Italian for “grandmothers”), who sat outside making and selling orecchiette, an ear-shaped pasta. I was mesmerized by how swiftly they rolled, cut, and shaped each piece.

There are also many lovely churches in the old town, but I was most excited to see Basilica San Nicola, where the relics of Saint Nicholas — who inspired the legend of Santa Claus — are entombed in a crypt.

On top of all the culture, Bari has plenty of beaches and natural beauty.

For a change of scenery, I walked 40 minutes from my Airbnb in the Murat district to a beach called Pane e Pomodoro.

I strolled along the Lungomare e Murat, a promenade lined with palm trees, art deco street lamps, and plenty of benches where I could stop and rest.

When I visited the beach on an April morning, there were a lot of locals sunbathing, playing games, and swimming.

I’d mostly seen pebbled beaches frequented by tourists in my travels throughout Italy, so I was glad to see Barese families and friends enjoy time together in the soft white sand.

The city is a fantastic launchpad for day trips to stunning towns.

Beautiful towns like Ostuni, Monopoli, Trani, and Polignano a Mare are all within a 45-minute train ride from Bari Centrale station.

Ostuni took my breath away. I climbed up and down countless stairs to explore the hilltop city. I found myself surrounded by a maze of churches and white buildings, with splashes of vibrant color on their doors and window shutters.

Monopoli is tiny, but I loved ambling through the old alleys, which often had intricately detailed arches at their entrances, and walking the small stretch of the port to a red-and-white-striped lighthouse.

My favorite spot is Polignano a Mare, a coastal town with ancient white buildings perched atop a limestone cliff.

From there, I could spend hours taking in the spectacular views of the Adriatic Sea. For a closer look at the water, I walked under the Ponte Borbonico, an iconic bridge, to the picture-perfect pebble beach.

As the final stop of the day, I grabbed a caffè speciale — a coffee with cream, amaretto, and lemon peel — at a famous ice cream and coffee shop called Il Super Mago del Gelo before making my way back to Bari.

Nearly a year later, I still haven’t stopped thinking about my time in Bari. Although I made a rule not to revisit the same location twice on my annual Italy trip, I will absolutely make an exception for Bari.

• I started using my teens’ slang to better understand them.
• Words like “rizz,” “mid,” and “slay” entered my vocabulary.
• Sometimes it connects us — sometimes they cringe.

I remember how mystified the grandparents who raised me were when I hit high school and the word “like” permeated at least half of the words in any given sentence that popped out of my teenage mouth. They wanted nothing more than to ignore each misplaced like, not understanding how it fit into my own generation’s slang.

As a parent, I now understand their side of things.

So, I started listening to the slang my kids used, hoping to better understand my teenagers.

I knew how important having a connection was with my kids

Watching my kids transition from childhood to adulthood is hard. Teens create their own words to connect with each other and the world around them. After already raising two teens, I knew how important connection was. Slang was just one of the ways I could bridge the age and generational gap to get closer to my kids.

What I never expected was for the words to be so user-friendly and fun. The words just hit right. Mid meant so-so, and made sense. It’s easy to say and rolls off the tongue. Some things didn’t hit, like chungus — which, I’m still not sure how to spell. The phrase is viral and comes from TikTok, which is this generation’s way of finding what to say, how to say it, and, most importantly, when to use it. Many of the latest “in” words come from the popular social media app.

Slay, Rizz, Cap/No Cap, Vibe, Ate, Lowkey/Highkey, Fire, and Lit are just a few slang terms I hear on the daily. They greet me in the morning as my kids rush to get ready for school and creep into chats on the way to hockey and cheer practice. Whether someone drops a lowkey or a highkey, I finally understand the difference. Some slang terms have a longer shelf life and stick around, like “mid.” Others fade into oblivion, like “bussin,” or the more annoying, “bussin, bussin.”

I noticed they were using slang to remember schoolwork

On a recent drive to school, my daughter was studying for a test on ancient Egypt. She used slang to remember the antiquated information and add a modern twist. “That is so much more understandable for kids your age,” I said. It was a funny and interesting way to process and retain the information. I even suggested she start a podcast to help other kids study difficult content.

I also took a nostalgic trip to my own high school days. I remembered doing the same when I was in high school. A friend and I used slang (and a popular television theme song) from the 90s (my own generation) to remember the definition of the chemical family. That car ride made me realize that slang isn’t just a sign of the times; it also encapsulates memories and gives more relevant, useful meaning to complex subjects (such as history and science) for the generation using it.

Even my young adult children don’t use the slang their older siblings do. They have noticed a change since they were kids. It’s interesting to see them react to their teen brother and sister using words from their own generation. It seems that at 19 and 21, they have outgrown the need for such shorthand speak.

Whether “in” or relegated to the back of teenage consciousness, these words and their meanings will all be part of my kids’ teen years, and they remind me of the slang I grew up with. As a writer and lover of words, I’ve realized how cool generational slang is. Not only does it help define each generation, allowing them to create their own unique vocabulary, but it also allows those willing to listen to discover a new and interesting way to communicate.

According to Grammarly, “Slang is informal language that can be regional or develop from communities and subcultures. It can take the form of a single word or a phrase.” It is a sort of shorthand that creates connections between a group. Of course, that connection sometimes remains best left between the generation that coined the terms, as my son recently reminded me. “Mom, please don’t ever say that again,” my 13-year-old begged when I dropped some random slang term into a conversation.

It can also create a disconnect with people my own age, especially those without teens at home. At a meeting with some colleagues, when I referred to something as fire, it may have drawn some confused stares. While not everyone appreciates my efforts, I really enjoy using some of these new words I’ve learned from my kids. They’ve become an interesting new addition to my own vocabulary.

Sometimes, they work, and lowkey, I’m enjoying getting to speak with my kids in a new and fun way.

• My husband and I didn’t boast about our relationship when we worked together in the corporate world.
• Now we own a business. Clients know we’re married, but we keep work and personal lives separate.
• We’ve learned how to maintain a strong connection despite always being around each other.

My husband and I have worked together for the last 15 years. People ask us how we keep our marriage healthy despite being together 24/7. For us, it’s easy, but like marriage itself, it does take work.

This is the second time in our 25-year marriage that Paul and I have worked together. The first time, we were both employed by the same large biotech company in Southern California, although in very different roles. Today, we run a small consulting business.

Indeed, those two scenarios are night and day different; however, both raise similar issues about respecting boundaries and checking our egos.

The first time we worked together, we kept our marriage out of it

Paul was initially hired by the Information Technology (IT) division to manage the company’s email and storage. IT is one of those functions that operates primarily in the shadows. Their job is simple: keep the lights on, so to speak. IT professionals often work behind the scenes but are crucial to everyday operations. People don’t think much about IT until something breaks or someone breaches the firewall.

My job was a little more visible. I was hired at the same company two years later as an executive assistant supporting a newly recruited department head for a brand new team focusing on health economics.

The department examined patient health outcomes and was an experiment. Frankly, very few at the executive level believed we’d achieve much, but we far exceeded expectations. I went from supporting my boss alone to managing five of his direct reports and overseeing two long-term projects with numerous deliverables that spanned multiple departments.

If someone made the connection between Paul and me — usually by noticing our shared (and unusual) last name in the company directory — we didn’t deny it, but there were no neon signs giving us away either.

Apart from not wanting to be the couple that argues one minute and then shows PDA the next, we also wanted to avoid colleagues using our relationship to their advantage. He didn’t want people using me to get tickets assigned to his team prioritized over others. I didn’t want people bothering him to get on my boss’s calendar or influence processes.

When people found out, oftentimes they were surprised — and that was fine. We’re very different and maybe even a little mismatched. My position brought high visibility. I knew most everyone on campus, even if only by name. By contrast, Paul is quiet, analytical, and deliberate. He keeps to himself. That contrast actually helped us. We weren’t seen as interchangeable.

Looking back, we didn’t really have a conversation about how we’d handle working for the same company. There was nothing to prove to anyone or even to each other. We just wanted to do our jobs without complicating things or bringing unwanted attention to ourselves.

Mission accomplished. When we left the corporate grind to live on a farm in Puerto Rico in 2008, there were no joint parties. We arrived as individuals with the same last name, and we left the same way.

We still try to keep our business and personal lives separate

I often use the phrase “hakuna matata” from “The Lion King” to describe how we approach marriage and working together these days. We let most everything roll off us, even stress.

We run Mayani Farms, an eco-organic farm, and we consult others on how to do the same. All of our clients know we’re a husband-and-wife team. This works well because our skills and personalities complement each other. I manage the marketing, project management, and administrative functions. Paul has more experience as a farmer than I do. He is the consultant and designer who bridges clients’ desires with what’s possible for sustainable growth in the tropics.

Our current dynamic reflects what other couples experience when working together. We both loathe arguing. We can still count on one hand how many arguments we’ve had since we met 30 years ago. We like peace, and we strive for it daily. Sure, we both do things that might get on the other’s nerves, but we have the experience to know that taking a walk can do wonders — especially when you’re working on a beautiful island.

In our previous life, keeping the peace meant keeping our personal and professional lives separate. On the farm, it means respecting each other’s job descriptions. Sometimes it can mean picking one’s battles. Most things aren’t argument-worthy because, we wonder, is it about being right or being heard? If it’s the former, we can always come to an agreement. If it’s the latter, it’s time for a check-in with each other. Obviously, our marriage comes before everything, but sometimes protecting the relationship means being disciplined about how and where work shows up or how to address a personal issue.

Supporting a marriage and supporting a business are very similar

We’ve also found that there’s a broader truth that applies whether people are building a company, a life together, or both: marriages and businesses can falter for some of the same reasons. People repeat patterns that have proven themselves to be ineffective. And many fail to see beyond the car in front of them. Paul and I both believe that long-term success in either arena depends on a willingness to adapt, to grow, and to make intentional choices before small cracks turn into structural problems.

• I grew up not knowing much about my family history, but was always curious to know more.
• I inherrited some items from a grandmother I never met, including a jewelry and a photo album.
• I used these items as a way to start conversations with my mother about the past.

I never met my grandma Marie, who died when she was only 50 years old. I’ve been told we look similar, and I’ve often felt compelled to learn more about her.

I wasn’t sure how to bring her up in conversation with my mom, who became motherless at 21. My mother rarely, if ever, spoke about my grandmother and other relatives while I was growing up, so I assumed that it was painful for her to do so.

I eventually inherited some of my grandma’s vintage jewelry from the 1940s, including a bracelet and her engagement ring. I also had an old family photo album. I decided to use my grandma’s bracelet as a talking point and sent my mom a text asking, “When did you see her wear it?” along with a photo of my grandmother wearing a bracelet from the album.

This broke the ice and helped launch many conversations about the keepsakes I had and the album’s photos. These items became a gateway to the past I was desperate to know more about and a special way for my mom to share details of our family history through phone calls and text messages.

I learned about loved ones I never knew

In one photo, I can see my grandparents standing together — they look so young. Through talking to my mom, I learned that the photo was taken in Astoria, Queens, shortly after my grandfather, who was in the Air Force, returned after WWII. I can see all of his medals on his jacket. My mom explained that my grandparents were married soon after this photo was taken. To me, this photo represents my first-generation Italian American grandparents falling in love and my southern and northern Italian roots coming together, a key moment in our family’s history.

Another day, I opened a dainty, turquoise box and stared at my grandma’s engagement ring. I felt inspired. The name of a jewelry store was on the box, so I researched what I could about it online. I saw the building where it was likely purchased was still standing on Steinway Street, not too far from where census records showed my grandmother lived in Queens at the time. Seeing the building still standing made me wonder about the day my grandfather purchased the ring and how happy he must have felt about their future.

Photos gave clues to their personalities

My grandparents relocated to New Hampshire with their three children in the 1950s. Photos show my grandma never changed her city style despite living in a much smaller town. I admire that she wanted to always be herself.

I sent my mom text messages with more photos from the album, and I learned more about the family’s resilience during this period. It wasn’t easy in New Hampshire at first, my mom explained, not having the same foods and ingredients in the grocery store, not having a familiar pediatrician nearby, zero relatives nearby, and none of the things the family had been accustomed to in a bigger city; it was a big adjustment.

For me, it was nice to learn that my grandparents had worked to overcome these struggles and know that my family has that determination built into our core.

I feel closer to my roots

The photos I’ve looked at with my mother have sparked discussions that help me feel connected to my ancestors. I learned that my grandma always wore dresses and lipstick (like me), she loved cooking Italian meals and at the same time she let the dishes soak so she could put family first, and that she was cheerful and could strike up a conversation with anyone. Talking about these facets of her personality made me feel closer to her, even though we never met.

More discussions led me to learn that my grandfather always wore buttoned-up shirts and slacks or a full suit every day. And I also discovered he had a respected woodworking career after he retired from the service.

This has brought my mom and me closer, too

Over the years, my mom has enjoyed the conversations we’ve had while reflecting and going back in time through photos and keepsakes. I think it has been healing for both of us to reminisce about these things, and it has given us a new way to connect.

Now, when I look at the photo of my grandparents, I don’t just see them holding hands before they got married, I think about the moment, the place, the where and when, and how that photo leads to my mom and me — and now my kids. I’ve learned that the details in a photo or memories around a keepsake are special stories that can be cherished and carried on, and I can’t wait to pass these stories on to the next generation one day.