In a blistering yet honest assessment of President Donald Trump, Rep. Jasmine Crockett recently stated: “This is a person that has a problem with people of color. When we look at who he says are low IQ—even though when you look at his cabinet—this has to be the most incompetent cabinet we have ever had in the history of this country.”

It’s not just political theater. Crockett’s statement cuts to the heart of a disturbing truth about the Trump era: the bigotry was not incidental. It was central. And the incompetence? That wasn’t a fluke—it was a feature.

When Trump uses the term “low IQ,” it’s rarely (if ever) directed at white men in his circle. Instead, the insult often falls upon Black women, immigrants, and critics of color. From calling Congresswoman Maxine Waters “a very low IQ individual” to mocking journalists and public servants from diverse backgrounds, Trump has repeatedly telegraphed a message that intelligence and worthiness are reserved for a certain kind of American. Spoiler: it’s not the ones who look like Jasmine Crockett.

Let’s be clear—this isn’t about political disagreement. It’s about deliberate racial denigration. When a sitting president (or former president trying to claw his way back into office) routinely weaponizes IQ as a slur against minorities, he’s not just being crass. He’s invoking one of the oldest racist tropes in American history: that Black and brown people are inherently inferior.

But here’s the bitter irony: the same man who tosses around “low IQ” insults built his presidency around a cabinet and inner circle marked by record-breaking turnover, legal investigations, and breathtaking incompetence.

Consider some of the names: Betsy DeVos, whose main qualification for Secretary of Education seemed to be her desire to dismantle public schools; Ben Carson, a brilliant neurosurgeon thrown into a housing policy role he openly admitted knowing little about; and a revolving door of acting officials who were never confirmed by the Senate because they couldn’t survive scrutiny. Trump appointed loyalists, not leaders. Ideologues, not innovators. His was a government run like a bad reality show—where chaos was the constant and qualifications were optional.

So when Jasmine Crockett says this was the most incompetent cabinet in American history, she’s not exaggerating. She’s telling the truth. And the data backs her up.

Under Trump, the U.S. saw unprecedented cabinet instability. Key departments like Homeland Security, Justice, and Defense cycled through leadership faster than most Americans could keep track. More than 90% of Trump’s original senior staff were gone by the end of his term. Compare that to Barack Obama’s cabinet, which saw less than 50% turnover over eight years.

But what made Trump’s incompetence dangerous wasn’t just poor management—it was who got hurt. Immigrant families torn apart at the border. Puerto Rico left in crisis after Hurricane Maria. Black communities disproportionately devastated by COVID-19 while Trump spread misinformation and peddled bleach.

It was a presidency where cruelty was the point. And it often landed squarely on communities of color.

That’s why Crockett’s statement matters. Not because it’s a political zinger, but because it reminds us what’s really at stake in this moment.

Trump is not just running again. He’s running on revenge. On restoring the power he believes was stolen from him. On “retribution” against his enemies. And if we’re not careful, we may once again find ourselves under the rule of a man who sees diversity as a threat, dissent as disloyalty, and public service as a personal brand.

Let’s not forget: the same man who mocked “low IQ” women of color once claimed “I alone can fix it”—and then presided over one of the most chaotic, self-serving administrations in American history.

This is not about left versus right. It’s about competence versus chaos. Equality versus exclusion. Democracy versus a demagogue.

And as Rep. Crockett reminded us, the people who bore the brunt of Trump’s failure and fury were not Mar-a-Lago elites or billionaire donors. They were working-class families. Black mothers. Brown immigrants. Vulnerable communities already pushed to the margins.

In 2025, the choice should be clearer than ever: Do we want to return to an era where being called “low IQ” by the president is a badge of color, not character?

Or do we finally say: Enough.