An Open Letter to Jasmine Crockett

Dear Jasmine,

We saw what happened.

We watched as you raised millions for your party, traveled state to state, stood ten toes down on the House floor, and gave everything—your time, your voice, your presence—to a team that asked for more than it ever truly honored.

And then they told you that you weren’t a “team player.”

This is what institutional betrayal looks like. Not the loud, obvious kind. The kind that dresses up in praise while quietly pushing you out of the frame. The kind that drains your labor, then questions your loyalty. The kind that happens to Black women all the time.

And still, we’re expected to smile and serve again.

But what if we didn’t?

What if, before returning to service, we turned inward? What if we paused the performance of strength—and told the truth?

That none of this is worth your health.
That silence won’t save you.
That proximity to power is not the same as being protected by it.

Jasmine, you’ve already done what they said couldn’t be done. You brought brilliance, strategy, and soul into a room that didn’t know how to hold it. And while they may have looked away, we did not. We see you. We believe you. We are with you.

There is a seat here. With us. Among the 92%.

The ones who’ve been burned and buried and still choose to rise with softness. The ones building new blueprints in the aftermath of disillusionment. The ones modeling rest as rebellion.

You will never be too loud for this table.
You will never be too bold for this moment.
You belong—in the fullness of your fire and your fatigue.

When you're ready, sit. We’re saving you a seat.

In strength and in softness,
jade singleton
Creator of Ninety-Two &
Founder of IKONI Collective