I'm a Felon Too. So Who Are You Really Talking About?

America loves redemption stories right up until redemption starts looking like authority. Then it's "stay in your lane."

I don't like Trump. I don't support Trump. This is not a defense of Trump. This is a question about language, power, and who America thinks gets to exist beyond their worst mistake. I keep seeing people refer to Trump as "the felon." Over and over. Like it's a mic drop. Like the word itself settles everything.

And to be real. He is a felon. Fact is fact. But here's what I keep thinking about.

I'm a felon too.

So when you say "the felon" with that tone, with that finality, who exactly are you talking about? Because for Trump, "felon" is an insult. A political jab. For people like me, it's a life sentence that keeps renewing itself.

People love to say it like the word equals accountability. Like it equals justice. But it doesn't. It equals dismissal. It's a shortcut that lets people stop thinking.

And I already know the comeback.

"Yeah, but he was the President of the United States."

Okay. And?

You think that makes it worse that he's a felon? Fine. But then you're also saying the label matters more when someone has power. Which means you believe felons should be kept powerless. Forever.

So let me ask it plainly. Does that mean I can't be anything that exerts power over anyone? I can't teach. I can't run programs. I can't influence policy. I can't shape narratives. I can't lead people. I can't build something that affects lives. Because if "felon" disqualifies someone from the presidency, what doesn't it disqualify them from?

Power doesn't start at the Oval Office. Power is writing. Organizing. Educating. Creating. Deciding and being listened to. America loves redemption stories right up until redemption starts looking like authority. Then it's "stay in your lane." Then the past becomes a leash.

Trump being labeled a felon hasn't cost him anything real. Not his money, his platform or his reach. The word slides off him because he's insulated by wealth and status. Meanwhile, that same word blocks millions of people from jobs, housing, voting, credibility, and the benefit of the doubt. So when folks scream "felon" like it's justice, they're not punching up. They're reinforcing the same logic that keeps regular people boxed out forever.

This isn't about excusing harm or erasing accountability. This is about selective outrage and lazy morality.

If "felon" automatically means unfit, dangerous, disqualified, then say that with your chest when you look at returned citizens rebuilding their lives. Say it when you deny housing. Say it when you lock people out of work. Say it when you strip voting rights. And if you don't mean all that, then stop using the word like it explains everything. Because the real issue isn't whether Trump is a felon. The issue is whether America actually believes people can change, or whether redemption only counts if you stay small, quiet, and never claim authority over anything that matters.

Who gets crushed by the label. Who gets to shrug it off. And why power is the line nobody wants a felon to cross.

That's the conversation. Everything else is noise.

Peace.