Several top Democrats, such as former Vice President Kamala Harris, former Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg, and California Democratic Gov. Gavin Newsom, are all expected to run for president in 2028.
But one young, up-and-coming figure says he is not planning to jump into the race, CNN noted.
Maryland Democratic Gov. Wes Moore says he will not run for president in 2028, despite being frequently touted among Democrats as a prospective presidential contender.
That hasn’t prevented continuous speculation about his future political aspirations, especially since he continues to make engagements outside of Maryland, which boost his national image. On Friday, he will fly to South Carolina, an early presidential primary state, to speak at the Blue Palmetto Dinner.
When questioned about 2028, the governor was straightforward.
“I’m not running,” Moore told The Associated Press in an interview. He also said, when asked, that he isn’t trying to get his name in the conversation for a potential vice presidential candidacy, either.
Moore downplayed his high-profile trips to battleground states, including a recent trip to South Carolina.
“And people should get very used to me going all over the country bringing business back to Maryland, because that’s exactly what I plan on doing as long as I’m the governor of the state,” Moore said after a dedication in Annapolis for a memorial to former Rep. Parren Mitchell.
Moore, who is in the third year of his first term, expects to compete for reelection in predominantly Democratic Maryland next year. He said becoming the state’s governor during a difficult period requires his whole attention.
Another name continues to be floated as making early moves before 2028: Pete Buttigieg.
Buttigieg continues to force his way into the digital media sphere, defying traditional Democratic standards as talk of a presidential run grows.
The former secretary came to Washington this week to attend an event with Democratic content producers and make some media appearances, as talk mounts about a 2028 presidential run following Buttigieg’s revelation that he will not compete for the open Michigan Senate or gubernatorial seat.
Buttigieg spoke with the Washington Examiner about his views on new media, how to engage people who do not identify with established parties, the current political landscape, and what he is doing to assure the success of his party after leaving the Biden administration.
“I’m using my voice best I can in traditional media and new media, and I’m going to continue having conversations with neighbors, with voters, talking about how we could have a better way,” Buttigieg told the Washington Examiner. “I don’t know what that means for me, politically or professionally, a long way from making any decisions about that, but I know that’s what I need to be doing right now.”
Ezra Klein of the New York Times labeled Buttigieg the “Democratic Party’s acknowledged best-of-class communicator” last year, just weeks before the Democrats suffered a severe defeat in November.
Throughout the 2024 presidential campaign, President Donald Trump made several visits on podcasts and forums popular among young people, one of which being Joe Rogan’s podcast.
“It’s certainly shadow primary season. Pete’s strategy so far is on point,” influencer and CEO of Girl and the Gov Sammy Kanter told the Washington Examiner.
“He’s going on podcasts, and with that, he’s meeting Americans where they are on both sides of the aisle. He’s interacting with creators and taking the online sphere in a serious manner, as it should be. And he’s excelling in that space because he is able to explain complex happenings in an approachable way,” Kanter continued.
In April, Buttigieg cleared the path for a 2028 presidential campaign after announcing that he would not run for Michigan’s open U.S. Senate seat.
One sentence.
That’s all it took.
“I’ll take a pickax to it if I have to.”
When Kerry Kennedy — daughter of Robert F. Kennedy and niece of John F. Kennedy — delivered those words, Washington felt the aftershock almost instantly.
What followed wasn’t just outrage or applause. It was something deeper and more combustible: a renewed national argument about power, memory, and who gets to define the Kennedy legacy in modern America.
The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts has long been treated as sacred ground — a space meant to celebrate art, creativity, and unity beyond ideology. Named in honor of JFK, the Center has traditionally stood apart from the partisan battles that consume Washington.
That’s why recent controversy surrounding the use — and interpretation — of the Kennedy name at the institution has struck such a nerve.
Critics argue that decisions involving the Kennedy Center risk politicizing a national cultural landmark and diluting the legacy of a family whose name is inseparable from American history. Supporters counter that silence is no longer neutral — and that defending the Kennedy legacy requires confrontation, not quiet reverence.
Into that tension stepped Kerry Kennedy.
This wasn’t an offhand comment from a pundit or protester. Kerry Kennedy carries a surname that still echoes with ideals of service, sacrifice, and unfinished promise. Her work as a human rights advocate has often placed her in the center of moral and political debates — but this time, the conflict was personal.
Her statement was read by many as a line in the sand:
a declaration that the Kennedy name cannot be invoked without accountability.
Supporters praised her bluntness, calling it long overdue — a refusal to allow the family legacy to be used in ways they believe betray its values.
Opponents accused her of inflaming division, arguing that such rhetoric risks turning shared national heritage into a partisan weapon.
Either way, the reaction was immediate — and intense.
More than half a century after JFK’s assassination, the Kennedy name still carries extraordinary weight. It represents hope to some. Hypocrisy to others. And to many, it remains a mirror reflecting America’s unresolved struggles over power, justice, and identity.
What this moment has made clear is that the legacy is not settled history. It is living, disputed, and emotionally charged.
And when a Kennedy herself suggests tearing something down — even symbolically — it forces the country to ask uncomfortable questions:
Who owns history?
Who decides what a name stands for?
And when does preservation become distortion?
This isn’t just about a building or a plaque. It’s about authority — moral, cultural, and historical. It’s about whether national institutions can ever truly stand above politics, or whether they inevitably become battlegrounds for meaning.
Insiders say the debate has only begun.
Cultural leaders are weighing in.
Political figures are choosing sides.
And the Kennedy family’s internal divisions are once again playing out on a public stage.
One thing is certain: the argument Kerry Kennedy reignited isn’t going away quietly.
Love it or loathe it, the Kennedy legacy still has the rare ability to stop the country mid-sentence and force a reckoning.
And with emotions rising, language sharpening, and history itself on trial, this latest showdown may become one of the most defining cultural clashes in years.
