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• Texas Gov. Greg Abbott said the backlash data centers are getting from Americans is deserved.
• Abbott, who earlier supported data center development in the state, has since changed his tune.
• Politicians are navigating the data center debate ahead of the November midterm elections.

The AI industry is reaping what it sows, as far as Texas Gov. Greg Abbott is concerned.

Abbott said the sharp criticism Americans are lobbing at AI data centers is well-earned during an interview on ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday.

“They basically dug their own grave for the problem that’s been caused for them, and that’s why they got the backlash they deserve,” Abbott said.

Tech companies rely on data centers to power their AI products, but their messaging around them has fallen flat. All across the country, Americans are rallying to fight against AI data centers, which can cost billions to build and span hundreds of acres. Many are concerned about how the sprawling facilities will affect the environment, utility prices, water resources, and noise levels, to name a few. Some just generally don’t like AI.

Critics have crowded local planning meetings, created petitions, staged protests, and even taken legal action to stop construction. Surveys conducted by The Pew Research Center and Gallup this year said a large chunk of Americans are opposed to living near an AI data center.

“Seven in 10 Americans oppose constructing data centers for artificial intelligence in their local area, including nearly half, 48%, who are strongly opposed,” the Gallup survey said.

That’s a tricky reality for conservative politicians like Abbott, who must balance the will of his voters and that of President Donald Trump ahead of the midterm elections. The Trump administration has gone all in on AI, including accelerating federal permitting and supporting the $500 billion Stargate Project, an ambitious plan led by OpenAI and Oracle to build hyperscale data centers across the country.

Abbott was initially an ardent supporter of AI data center projects in Texas for their economic benefit. The giant server warehouses can generate jobs during construction and provide tax windfalls to local communities. However, Texans from Abilene to Sulphur Springs have taken hard stances against them, forcing Abbott to change his tune.

Abbott has introduced new standards for AI data center projects in Texas, including instructing the state’s utility commission and electrical grid operator to protect residents from infrastructure costs. He’s also suggested a ban on data center developments in rural Texas, and that projects must undergo an audit before moving forward.

Abbott said earlier this month that his administration had halted some 1,800 AI data center projects in the state.

During the ABC interview, Abbott shared a few theories about why data centers are facing so much resistance, including the speed at which they are being built and brought online. The other is that data center developers aren’t gaining local residents’ support before pursuing projects.

“Gaining the support of people in local communities is essential,” Abbott said.

• Ruth Olinger, 70, is raising her grandson in Florida, highlighting the challenges of grandparenting.
• Olinger, who fostered 51 children, faces financial strain after five-figure costs.
• Olinger said that while they don’t have everything they want, they have everything they need.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ruth Olinger, 70, who is raising her grandson on her own in Lakeland, Florida. Olinger had earlier fostered dozens of children and did mission work. Now, Olinger said she can’t retire and paid over $10,000 for her son’s day care. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

I was raised by my grandparents. My grandmother had rheumatoid arthritis, so my grandfather did the cooking and cleaning. She was bedridden for 16 years, and I would take care of her. He had a stroke one day, and he was never the same. We were then placed in foster care when I was 8, and my brother was 10. We were separated after three months.

My brother was in several different homes and got emancipated at 16. I was in 10 homes, so I called 10 different parents “mom” and “dad.” I always felt like I wasn’t good enough and wondered if I was lovable.

I went to college at 17 and graduated early. I got married at 18 because I had nowhere else to go. My grandparents had died. I had two sons, and at the age of 28, I met my biological father.

I knew I wanted to give back in some way, so I fostered 51 children over the years, all of which were during my single years. I didn’t want anybody to feel less than. The harder they were to love, the better I liked them. They all needed to be loved and feel secure in their environment.

I got divorced and remarried after 15 years. I had a son 18 years after my last son. Then, I adopted our daughter. A few years ago, I adopted my grandson, and I now call him my son. At age 70, I have five children. The oldest is 48, and the youngest, Atlas, is 7.

I’ve never really worried about finances.

I have faith that everything will work out. I’ve worked three jobs at one time. I’ve mowed grass with one son sitting on my lap and the other holding onto the back of the lawnmower. I mowed four acres of land for $10, and that gave us milk for the week. I worked in insurance and banking, but I fell in love with mission work and helping other people. At one time, I was working 90 hours a week.

There are givers and takers in the world, and I’m a giver. I raised millions to build a center for homeless women and children. I did mission work in Belgium, Italy, Scotland, Ireland, West Africa, and Kenya. I helped operate two orphanages. I recently gave clothes to a single mom who didn’t have.

I also cared for my natural mother, who did not raise me, as well as my best friend. I built my house so that we would have enough room for all of us to be together. I always considered it a privilege to be here with them and help them through tough times.

I adopted my grandson.

I’ve cared for my youngest pretty much since he was born. His mother, my daughter, had him for over a year, but it wasn’t working out, so they allowed me to adopt him. He’s absolutely perfect, and he adds so much to my life. He’s eager, interested, and curious. Of course, he has some health issues and loses his temper from time to time. But he is definitely a blessing.

He was diagnosed with a disease that was time-consuming to get him the diagnosis, and it hit my finances because I lost days of work. It takes a special person to love that child, tuck them in bed every night, and hold them when they’re hurting.

My daughter and I didn’t talk for about two and a half years, but we’re very close now. She has many gifts and talents. Sometimes, though, you get in the wrong relationship.

I’ve tried not to let my age get in the way of anything.

I’m able to walk and care for myself. I still climb into the playground and play with Atlas. We’ve camped outside in tents. There is plenty I can’t do that I did with my older children. I let him race up and down the driveway, which I don’t do.

In some ways, I’m more patient with him because of my experience raising children and being older. In other ways, I’m less patient because, as you get older, there is a point where you can be less patient, but the quality is still the same. We sit down and talk about earning things because of responsibility. I do a lot more homework with him than I did with my other kids when they were in school. He’s dyslexic, which can be a challenge, but he’s maturing.

During the summer, I take him swimming. I think he’s part fish because he wants to stay in all the time. He loves to ride his bike and watch TV.

I don’t fit in with younger people raising young children, and I also don’t fit in with the senior groups because they don’t have to hire babysitters for outings.

My weeks are usually packed.

I work at a car dealership as an officer manager. I do a bit of everything, and I enjoy the challenge of helping people with financial or legal aspects. When he’s asleep, I do my work in Kenya from abroad. I take off Saturdays to take him to fun places.

The biggest challenge for grandparents, I believe, is day care and health insurance. The advantage of adoption is that the state helps you with health insurance, but I’ve paid $10,400 a year for day care, which will blow your socks off when you weren’t expecting that. I paid less than that when I had two kids.

Times have changed, and the grocery store gives me sticker shock. I spent $150 on my last grocery bill. I would much prefer to be sitting where nobody can see me and pay others’ checks, but I don’t have that luxury.

I’m not rich by any means, and we don’t have everything that we want.

We do have what we need. We can supplement if we’re running short. We can have egg sandwiches and grilled cheese instead of steak and lobster.

My concern is that my Social Security is $1,500 a month. Who can live on that? Add on the county property tax, which is $4,500 a year, and homeowner’s insurance at $3,800 a year. That’s a lot of money. I have my budget written out, and I pay my bills upfront. I’m pretty savvy when it comes to saving.

I will have to work until I step into my casket because I want my son to have what he needs. I’ve been asked to serve as a director of some local foundations because they know my background.

He’s not going to have the best part of me because I’m getting older. You have to have hope and work as hard as you can. I don’t want to be an absent parent, and I want to make sure that he has some advantages when I’m not there.

However, I don’t want him to be handicapped by thinking that I’m going to give him everything. I want him to be able to stand on his own two feet and be whatever he wants to be.

• Thalles de Souza grew up surrounded by shootings and gang violence in Rio de Janeiro.
• His single mother secretly saved money to move her children to the US.
• After attending community college, he was accepted to Yale with a full-ride scholarship.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Thalles de Souza. It has been edited for length and clarity.

In March 2016, on a Sunday morning, police entered my house, shouting and shooting. At only 13, I woke up screaming, not sure of what was happening. When I walked into the kitchen, I was nearly shot. Turns out, the police were looking for a family member of ours.

Shootings were common where I lived in Vila Kennedy, a community in Bangu, in Rio de Janeiro. I witnessed so many deaths — countless deaths.

I lived there with my mom, a single mom, and my three older siblings. My mom had always done what she could to protect us, given what she experienced as a child. After her parents died when she was 10, she became homeless. By 19, she had four children. She did what she could to keep us safe, but she couldn’t hide what we saw in our community when we walked out the front door.

My mom decided to move us to the US

There were a lot of gangs and so much corruption. Every day, people were killed. It was a normal occurrence to be playing soccer with my friends, right next to dead bodies lying in the street. I learned to navigate life in these spaces surrounded by danger, but it was normal — it was my reality.

On that Sunday in March 2016, my mom decided she had to get out to keep her children safe.

She had quietly been saving small amounts of money, taking out loans, and applying for our visas so that we could travel to the US. She kept it quiet to make sure no one got in the way of her plan.

Three months after the shooting in our house, we moved to Cape Cod, Massachusetts, and we never left. It became our home, our new community.

I went to community college to save money

After graduating from high school, I attended our local community college to save money and decide what college I would transfer to later.

In community college, I worked hard. I had perfect grades, became a member of the Massachusetts Board of Higher Education, participated in clubs, served as student body president for two years, and served the community I lived in, wanting to give back to the people who had welcomed my family.

Last year, I started looking for which college I was going to transfer to. I knew Yale had produced some of the best lawyers and judges — what I hoped to become — so I went for a visit.

I applied to Yale, thinking I wouldn’t get in

When I got out of my car, I said to myself that this place wasn’t the kind of place that would accept someone like me. But I applied anyway. I knew there was only a 1.3% acceptance rate, but I had to try.

When I saw I had an email from the admissions office, I called my mom and older sister into the room with me to find out the result.

I got in. I got into Yale, one of the most prestigious universities in the world. Not just that — I had a 100% full-ride scholarship.

I still can’t believe it, even though I’m starting in September.

Where I came from didn’t determine where I could go. I might have started as just another unlikely statistic in society’s eyes, but that isn’t what I’ll become.

On a visit to the campus a few weeks ago, my mom looked at me and said how amazing all of this was. She’s so happy. She tells everyone. She sacrificed her entire life to get her children safe. And the result was far better than she could have imagined.

I’m so glad I’ve been able to give her the gift of knowing her sacrifice wasn’t for nothing — it was all worth it.

• My 90-year-old father’s needs have changed as his health has declined.
• My sister had been his primary caregiver, but our family required extra help.
• Dad hired male carers who take turns to attend to him. It’s worked out extraordinarily well.

My mother and father, ages 95 and 90, respectively, are proud to still live in their own home.

They enjoy a peaceful lifestyle that revolves around simple meals, afternoon trips into the English countryside, and reading the newspaper.

However, their health has inevitably declined. Dad has had a particularly hard year so far after a heart attack in January. The condition affected his mobility, making it difficult for him to take a shower, get in and out of bed, and move without a walker.

My sister, 61, who retired early from her job as a nurse to care for my parents, and I became increasingly worried.

She could do things like cooking and laundry relatively smoothly, but lifting Dad was becoming a problem. She weighed less than 120 pounds, and her back was under strain.

It was a difficult conversation, but it had to happen. “Jane and I think it’s time to bring in some outside help,” my sister told our parents. The carers could be very part-time, she suggested, and swing by as needed.

Dad looked at his hands. Mom wiped away a tear. They are private people. Neither wanted strangers in the house.

We contacted eldercare agencies

Still, they promised to give the matter some thought. They talked things through with my aunt, my mom’s best friend, and she advised them to give it a shot. They could always change their minds.

My sister contacted several eldercare agencies in the town. She asked friends for recommendations and found what seemed like a decent choice. To our surprise, there was no waiting list. Dad’s carers could start almost immediately.

Their appointment coincided with my visiting the UK from New York in July, while my sister flew to see her adult son in Canada. The plan was for me to replace her as the main caregiver for two weeks, with support from the agency’s staff.

Dad needed help with washing and dressing

Mom, Dad, and I were nervous when Jonathan, the first of the two carers, showed up for his first shift. We feared the meeting might be awkward.

It was quite the opposite. Jonathan arrived with a beaming smile and literally rolled up his sleeves to get on with the job. He cracked jokes as he escorted Dad to the bathroom.

He helped him get washed and dressed before sitting him down for breakfast. His manner was bright and breezy.

Dad, a retired journalist, has an endless curiosity about people. It wasn’t long before he was asking Jonathan questions about his family, career, and taste in sports.

They chatted away like friends. Within an hour, Dad knew all about Jonathan’s wife, two kids, and parents, who lived in Nigeria, his home country.

Mom overcame her reticence

Equally, Dad grilled Jonathan’s colleague, Junior, originally from Ghana, who worked about half the shifts. While less gregarious than Jonathan, he was a kind, thoughtful man.

He treated my father with respect and admiration. Caring for seniors isn’t easy, but he was clearly suited to the role.

The days went by, and Dad couldn’t say enough good things about both carers. Mom overcame her reticence and greeted them cheerfully at the door each morning and evening.

“Your dad likes to have other men around to talk to,” she told my sister and me. He’d been outnumbered by women in the house for years, and it was a pleasant change.

My dad bonded with his aide over music

One of the most delightful things to have come out of the arrangement was the bond that Dad forged with Junior over music.

Their routine includes listening to jazz on Junior’s Spotify app during his working hours. He is 65 years younger than my father, but they both sing along to the grainy-sounding tunes from the 1930s and 40s.

It’s been almost two months since the carers entered my parents’ lives. Everyone agrees that it was the right decision, given the circumstances.

More than that, Jonathan and Junior have shown us that our folks are in the best possible hands.

• Trump announced a plan to lower beef prices for Americans ahead of the midterm elections.
• His administration will allow up to 300,000 metric tons of beef to be imported into the US.
• The National Cattlemen’s Beef Association said the decision “undermines American producers.”

America’s largest trade association of cattle producers says President Donald Trump’s plan to lower beef prices is political theater.

The National Cattlemen’s Beef Association, which represents more than 175,000 cattle producers and feeders, said on Friday that the strategy would do more harm than good for the industry. Earlier that day, Trump said the US would allow up to 300,000 metric tons of beef to be imported with no out-of-quota tariff over the next 90 days.

“Today’s announcement is not about helping producers,” the association said on X. “It’s not about putting their finger on the scale for one cattle industry group or another. It is 100% about the 74 days between now and the midterm elections.”

In the same X thread, the association said that encouraging more beef imports undermines American cattle producers at a time when they’re making decisions about rebuilding their herd numbers for next year. The association also said the administration’s “repeated whiplash on trade policy and beef imports” directly affects rural cattle producers.

“US farmers and ranchers need stability,” the group said. “Unlike spur-of-the-moment trading decisions made based on White House social media posts, the decisions and investments ranchers make in their herds are made YEARS in advance, not days or weeks.”

In a separate statement, CEO Colin Woodall said the association was “disappointed.”

“Today’s announcement and other market interventions throw cold water on the prospect of herd expansion and sacrifices long-term stability for short-term messaging,” Woodall wrote.

In recent years, the industry has been bogged down by the high costs associated with raising cattle, a shrinking national cattle inventory, and land constraints due to ongoing droughts. As a result, beef has gotten pricey for everyday Americans at the grocery store.

That’s bad news for Trump, who made reducing costs and tempering inflation a central pillar of his presidential campaign. Many Americans still say they’re struggling to stay afloat amid rising gas prices, a stagnant real estate market, and high food costs.

That frustration could bubble up at the polls this November. This month, a report published by research marketplace Cint said that over half of the respondents ranked the cost of living as the top issue influencing their vote for the midterm election.

Other agriculture groups and some members of Trump’s base also criticized his plan to lower beef prices as a short-term solution.

In a statement on Friday, Oklahoma Farm Bureau President Stacy Simunek said letting “foreign beef products to essentially walk in our country’s front door and onto grocery store shelves threatens one of the few bright spots we have in agriculture: the prices we currently receive when we sell our beef cattle even as the cost of raising cattle increases.”

On X, Montana Sen. Tim Sheehy, who cofounded a ranch and beef company, said he advised Trump against the plan. Oklahoma Attorney General Gentner Drummond, himself a rancher, said flooding the market with imported beef hurts “farmers and ranchers who work every day to produce the best beef in the world” in an X post.

Good Ranchers, a distributor, said the strategy would put more pressure on cattle producers who are already facing challenges.

“The answer to that is not more cheap imported beef with lower standards competing against them on shelves with no country of origin label required to tell you the difference,” the company said on X.

• I became close with a woman 21 years younger through an online writing class.
• At first, her youth made me more self-conscious about my own aging.
• Our friendship helped me see my age and life experience as something to value.

Three years ago, when I met someone 21 years my junior in an online class, I never thought we’d become close.

Each week in a writing class, we filled the video call with highly personal details about our lives as we learned how to tell our stories. We spilled our emotions in front of dozens of strangers and eventually branched off into our own smaller writing group, bridging the divide between New York and Chicago, where we each lived.

The vulnerable elements of our work were much more revealing than meeting a new friend in any other environment — and we were instantly connected on a deeper level.

Our relative ages weren’t actually important.

At first, I was jealous of her youth

My anxiety about aging creeps into consciousness every time my knee makes a weird clicking sound or I find myself pulling up the edges of my neck on a video conference call. I spent several moments during our weekly calls wanting to look more like her than anything.

I found myself envying her porcelain skin without the wrinkles I have on my forehead, and her perfect curls that I can’t replicate on my frizzy mane. Comparison became a preoccupation as I regretted the things I did at her age — getting drunk with my friends and making bad decisions, kissing boys, and smoking cigarettes, while she was so much more disciplined and accomplished. She seemed so thoughtful about the direction she wanted her life to take. She worked hard to earn multiple offers to graduate school. She didn’t waste her weekends wading through hangovers and guilt from poor decisions.

Shining through almost everything she did was this admirable quality of self-knowledge. I noticed simple things when she came to visit me, and I took her to get her first manicure — she asked the nail tech to be gentler with her cuticles.

A social media meme helped me become more of a role model

As I was beginning to appreciate who she was deep down, someone sent me a popular Instagram meme that said, “The goal isn’t to look 25 in your 40s, it’s to make 25-year-olds excited to be 40.” Instantly, I realized that in our intergenerational friendship, I needed to step up, stop comparing myself to her, and show her that I was proud of my age.

Since then, I have thought less about how either of us looks and much more about how to be a role model who can usher her into her 40s. And, if one of the benefits of an intergenerational friendship was an unparalleled perspective, I knew we could share even more with each other.

She helped me see that mentorship can be reciprocal

She inspired me to step up as more of a mentor. Instead of downplaying my experiences, I started to see my age as a badge I’d well earned. Getting divorced twice was tragic for sure, but it also gave me the opportunity to bring someone so much better into my life. When I visited her, I brought my longtime boyfriend along. She commented on how healthy our relationship was.

Anytime she fretted over graduate school applications or the terrifying ambiguity of her mid-20s, I tried to be a calming voice from the future, assuring her that she’d end up exactly where she was meant to be in life.

She reciprocates the mentorship by inspiring me with her unfiltered authenticity — the way she openly talks about complex topics like sexual compliance and family estrangement leaves me wanting to clarify my own views on important cultural issues. I see her taking chances with her narratives and challenge myself to do the same, digging deeper into my prose.

She doesn’t have the protective layers of cynicism that decades of corporate life and romantic heartbreaks built in me. When I get stuck in the rigid “this is just how the world works” mindset of middle age, her fierce worldview demands that I ask, “But does it have to?”

By pushing me to refocus on what matters, she didn’t just make me a better writer; she showed me how to finally love the woman I was becoming. I spent years wishing I could rewrite my past at her age, but she taught me that the real art is showing her how beautiful the next chapters will be — for both of us.