President Donald Trump has a Black woman problem.
And no, I don’t mean politically—though that’s undoubtedly true given how Black women overwhelmingly vote against him. I mean, the way he treats us. Time and again, Trump has shown that his go-to move when confronted by strong, brilliant, unflinching Black women is to lash out with insults and name-calling.
The latest example came when NBC News reporter Yamiche Alcindor dared to do her job and press him about a social media post where he appeared to threaten “war” in Chicago. Instead of answering, Trump sneered, “Be quiet. You don’t listen. That’s why you’re second-rate.” His condescension was blatant—calling her “darling” at one point—and it was also familiar.
Alcindor, who has consistently held power to account, has been on the receiving end of Trump’s attacks before. In 2018, when she asked about his embrace of the term “nationalist,” he dismissed it as a “racist question.” A year later, he called her “untruthful.” In 2020, as she pressed him on his COVID-19 response, he called her questions “nasty.”
It’s a pattern. April Ryan, a veteran White House correspondent, was told she “doesn’t know what the hell she is doing” and labeled a “loser.” Trump once told her to “set up” a meeting between him and the Congressional Black Caucus, as if she were his secretary. CNN’s Abby Phillip was told her question was “stupid.” Even after leaving office, Trump couldn’t resist mocking her coverage of his tariffs, calling her “strictly 3rd rate.”
Let’s be clear: These attacks aren’t just about Trump’s thin skin. They are about power—and who he thinks deserves to wield it. When Black women stand firm, when we refuse to be intimidated, when we dare to challenge him, he resorts to belittlement. That’s not leadership. That’s insecurity.
The National Association of Black Journalists said plainly: Journalists should never be personally attacked for doing their jobs. Respect for the press is the foundation of democracy. Yet Trump continues to single out Black women journalists for ridicule, perhaps because he knows they see through him.
But here’s the thing: Black women are not going anywhere. Not in the newsroom, politics, boardrooms, classrooms, pulpits or polling places. If anything, these repeated attacks only highlight why our voices matter. Trump may call us “losers” or “second-rate,” but history—and the ballot box—tells a different story.
We are the backbone. We are the truth-tellers. We are the force that rattles those who fear accountability. And every time Trump tries to silence us, he only makes it clearer why we must keep speaking.
