I tried to tell y'all about Jewell Jones

It's the ELECTED vanity plate for me

Last year, I was called everything but a child of God when I made the mere suggestion that state representative — and, at this point, for who knows how long — Jewell Jones needed to grow up.

In that piece for BLAC, I surveyed Jones’ actions on social media, which were increasingly reckless for an elected official during an emotional summer of police violence against Black people in the throes a pandemic. Months later, in the wake of more police violence while we’re still in a pandemic, Jones’ behavior has clearly spiraled out of control. The state representative, who was elected in 2016 and won a third term last fall, was arrested this month on I-96 in Livingston County, was arraigned on multiple charges, and, per usual, has been posting baffling updates to social media in the days since.

When I first started writing this, we didn’t know what the charges were. But…hoo, boy. Loaded gun in the car while drunk, Christine Beatty-style theatrics, the mysterious passenger in the other seat. And poor Gretchen Whitmer was just minding her business. You can see some of this for yourself. A driver says he has video of Jones’ SUV — with a vanity plate that reads ELECTED — swerving in and out of the shoulder on I-96 that appears to line up with the timeline of when he was arrested.

First of all, every Black person who’s ever traveled anywhere between Southeast Michigan and Ingham County knows that you do not speed or do anything crazy on the I-96 corridor in Livingston County. Ask any Michigan State alumni like myself where you’re guaranteed to see an MSP officer waiting on that route. Y’all know the spots: That one spot going west where I-96 shrinks from three lanes to two right near the Tanger Outlets, that rest stop a few miles down, and sometimes that little turnaround in Fowlerville near the Ingham/Livingston county line. And that’s before you get to the Livingston County sheriffs in and out of traffic the whole time, and with the reputation Howell and some of the other towns in the county carry, Jones should be well aware of the risk factors here that no title or status offers protection from.

And yet, with all this knowledge, Jones’ supporters still cling to a four-year-old promise that has been broken time and time again.

Let me tell you what happened after I wrote that column last year. Where to start? One of his supporters emailed my then-new employer asking them to reconsider my hiring because I was trying to tarnish Jones’ name. Among other correspondence, a random person emailed my personal email address asking if I was actually Black, because a “real” Black person wouldn’t be trying to tear down another Black man. Convicted felon Sam Riddle had plenty to say about me on across various social posts and on his 910-AM radio show. I went on 910 myself in a Verzuz-like debate with Jones, who posted a fake screenshot of me trying to jump into his Instagram DMs to his Instagram story (I promise I’m not making this up), sending a flock of “hollaback girls” into my own IG story.

In a public Facebook post that drew attention from Jones’ supporters and former and current public officials, Detroit Charter Commissioner Nicole Small — herself no stranger to power trips, and that’s not counting what I saw firsthand working for the mayor, but…another day — wrote, “Who needs White mainstream media to report bias[sic] stories about Black leaders less than favorable decisions only to overshadow White elected officials glaring patterns of major corruption? I guess that's what Black journalists like Aaron Foley at BLAC magazine are for.” In a way, I can’t totally disagree with Small.

While my aim with last year’s column was not to downplay the actions of any corrupt white politician (the one in question here is Detroit Councilman Gabe Leland, and there’s been more than enough reported about him that I don’t need to weigh in), Small is correct that journalists like me should be holding folks like Jones accountable, good and “less than favorable” decisions alike. The whole point of that column was to raise a red flag and ask the public to take a closer look at a public figure, regardless of race.

Disappointingly, accountability for Black politicians remains elusive to a certain fan base. Months after that column, Jones’ supporters are back out in full force, claiming it’s all a conspiracy, asking that tired old “what have you done for your community?” and, perhaps most confusing, asking us to be patient with Jones while he finds his footing in the public eye.

I said on 910 last year that public service is not an internship. Jones has had more than enough time to learn and grow and serve his constituents in Inkster, Garden City and Westland with integrity. I’ll reiterate that he is currently in his third term, and not his first. But Jones’ view of the world through rose-colored yays has blinded him from the concept of accountability. Again.

Jones isn’t just risking his own reputation or his duty of service in western Wayne County. The political climate in Michigan only gets worse by the day as state Republicans, sore over losing the governor’s seat and the White House, thirst for blood from their rival party. Jones is now an embarrassment to state Democrats. One has to question if his own party would hold him accountable as well.

A few noted publicists on Detroit Twitter noted that Jones has been in search of a local Olivia Pope for a “rebrand,” which looks to me, at least according to posts on one his four (that we know of) Instagram accounts, like a pivot toward motivational speaking and merchandise sales. (Because you know once folks get caught up in some bullshit they want to go on a world tour.) But also, it’s a signal that he’s looking to avoid accountability at any cost.

This column you’re reading now is not to gloat. I mean, if I said “I told you so” all day long, the only benefit would be my own serotonin boost. Instead, I’ll just repeat verbatim what I said the last time, and hopefully it’ll stick: The luster that comes with being young and Black in Michigan politics has always been a shield for critical dialogue.  It’s one of the hardest conversations for Black people, to talk about our own and see through that luster. But it’s a talk that’s long overdue.

Can we finally have that talk now?