Texas Rep. Jasmine Crockett’s U.S. Senate announcement exposed a familiar media pattern: when Black women seek power, coverage often focuses on tone instead of substance.

This commentary examines how coded language like “combative” functions as a racialized and gendered framing tool that reshapes public perception before policy is ever discussed.

Texas Rep. Jasmine Crockett announced her U.S. Senate bid this week, and within hours the political press did what it has long perfected when Black women reach for power.

HuffPost and other outlets described her not by her platform, record or strategy, but by her temperament, branding the first-term congresswoman as “combative.”

“Combative” is one of those respectable-sounding smear words clean enough for newsroom style guides and loaded enough to do racial and gendered damage without anyone having to say a Black woman is angry, aggressive, or out of control.

When HuffPost calls Jasmine Crockett “the combative first-term congresswoman,” that adjective is ideological signaling. It primes the reader before they even get to her politics.

You’re supposed to hear problematic, difficult, too much, not feminine, grateful, or deferential.

The language snapped into place almost immediately.

One headline announcing Jasmine Crockett’s Senate bid led not with her platform or electoral math, but with a personality tag, describing her as “the combative first-term congresswoman, a leading critic of Trump” in a write-up syndicated by Yahoo News.

Another outlet reached for a familiar shorthand, calling her a “firebrand” in its announcement that Texas Rep. Jasmine Crockett launched a run for Senate.

A longer national profile published last summer went further, framing Crockett as a Democrat testing “the coarse style of politics that the GOP has embraced,” subtly recasting her rhetorical posture as an imitation of Republican excess rather than a response to a brutal political environment, as reported by the Atlantic.

Local coverage leaned into the same groove, crediting her growing visibility to “fiery clashes” and “viral spats” that have helped turn her into a household name, language echoed in coverage by KFOX and reinforced in additional national commentary.

The framing isn’t entirely uniform, but that variation is revealing. More neutral outlets avoid “combative” altogether, opting instead for descriptors like “outspoken,” “bold,” or “direct.”

Other outlets, often more hostile, sharpen the coverage into “diva” character critique, referencing internal staff complaints or leaning on gendered accusations.

Taken together, the pattern is unmistakable.

“Combative” isn’t a stray adjective. It belongs to a familiar cluster: firebrand, fiery, confrontational, and abrasive.

Whether those traits are framed as leadership or liability depends less on Crockett’s behavior than on the outlet doing the framing and the audience it imagines.

White male politicians who yell, threaten, insult colleagues, shut down governments, or storm hearings aren’t routinely described as “combative.”

They’re “outspoken.” They’re “fighters.” They “don’t back down.” They’re “tough.”

The same behavior, filtered through a Black woman’s body, suddenly becomes a temperament issue instead of a political stance.

White women occupy a middle tier in this hierarchy, and their treatment is contingent on alignment with white comfort and patriarchal norms.

This commentary, first published in NewsOne’s Opinion Archives, has been edited for length. 

Shannon Dawson is a podcaster, former radio host, and digital content writer based in New York City.

She’s previously penned for sites including Power 96.5 FM in Lansing, Michigan, and WGCI Chicago for…