
In recent weeks, Candace Owens has found herself caught in a tempest of ridicule, facing public scorn from none other than Donald Trump and Laura Loomer, two figures synonymous with polarizing politics and controversial narratives. This whirlwind of disdain isn’t just a momentary slip in the political arena; it’s a stark reminder of the precarious position Owens has carved out for herself within the conservative landscape. While she may share the same skin color as the broader Black community, her alignment with individuals who often perpetuate harmful stereotypes and divisive rhetoric raises questions about her true kinship with Black folks.
Owens has long positioned herself as a self-proclaimed voice for Black conservatism, yet she frequently sidesteps the struggles and voices of those in her own community. Instead, she cozies up to those who paint a reductive picture of Black identity, as if our experiences can be boiled down to sound bites and tweets. Her recent tumble from grace at the hands of Trump and Loomer serves as a poignant reminder: when you lie down with dogs, you catch fleas. The very same people she chose to align with are now throwing her under the bus, revealing the fickle nature of political allies who often prioritize their agendas over loyalty.
It’s easy to feel a tinge of sympathy watching someone face public scorn, but let’s be clear: Owens has made her choices and deliberately distanced herself from the majority of Black voices who challenge systemic racism and advocate for social justice. In a political landscape where our struggles are often exploited for someone else’s gain, we can’t afford to feel sorry for someone who willingly chose to dance with the very forces that undermine the essence of Black empowerment. This moment serves as a cautionary tale, highlighting the importance of choosing our allies carefully and understanding that not every person who shares our skin color shares our values.
As we reflect on Owens and her downfall, we must continue to uplift those who actually fight for our community. Her experience should resonate as a lesson that authenticity and integrity matter more than any fleeting spotlight or viral moment. The message is clear: true kinfolk are those who stand with us, not those who benefit from our struggles while simultaneously turning away when it suits their narratives. Black folks need to continue supporting one another, understanding that our solidarity is our strength, and recognizing that there’s little room for sympathy when someone decides to abandon that bond for personal gain.










