Because Black women are always expected to save democracy but stay quiet about it.
They want to silence Rep. Jasmine Crockett not because she’s wrong, but because she’s right and unbothered by white comfort. That’s the part they don’t say. That’s the part that’s always behind the backhanded compliments and the behind-closed-doors “advice” and now, this Newsweek article that reads more like a donor-class whisper campaign than political analysis. They’re not afraid she’ll fail. They’re afraid she’ll win. Loudly. Blackly. And without apology.
Rep. Jasmine Crockett didn’t come to Washington to be ornamental. She came to be effective. And to represent, out loud, the people who elected her. Black women have always been told to moderate our tone, our presence, our volume. To “play the long game,” even as the world burns around us. Meanwhile, white men in power can rage-sputter on national TV and still be called “passionate” or “fiery.” But Crockett? She gets labeled “divisive,” “too much,” “undisciplined.” They say she’s a liability, but what they really mean is, she doesn’t defer.
And when a Black woman doesn’t defer, the system gets nervous.
This isn’t just about Rep. Crockett. This is about the very architecture of control that exists inside the Democratic Party—yes, even the “progressive” wing. It’s about the way Black women are called on to save democracy in November, but silenced every other month of the year. It’s about how we’re expected to canvass, to vote, to donate, to defend the indefensible, only to be told to “stay in our lane” when we speak with clarity and conviction.
They want the optics of our power, not the reality of it.
I am a Black woman. I was part of the 92% that showed up, voted blue, did my part, and kept my critiques to the group chat. I’ve played the game. I've held the line. But watching this calculated takedown of Jasmine Crockett? That just pulled me off the damn bench. Because if the leadership of the party has no qualms about putting her “in her place,” then I have no qualms about calling the whole damn structure what it is: still centered on the comfort of white donors, white press, and white fragility…even when the house is burning.
We didn’t survive everything we’ve survived just to be told to “tone it down” for people who’ve never had to turn it up.
This is milkblack. The space between what we carry and what we’re allowed to say. And I’m saying it now:
We’re not your shield. We’re not your silence.
We are not your single-issue strategy.
We are not here to be palatable.
Rep. Jasmine Crockett represents my state, Texas. But she also represents a deeper truth: That Black women do not need permission to lead.
And we’re done asking.
T.M.