Rep. Jasmine Crockett built her political brand on viral outrage — calling President Trump “Temu Hitler” and shouting down conservative colleagues with camera-ready fury. But behind the scenes, according to her own staffers, the freshman Democrat from Texas is less public servant and more self-obsessed diva who’s rarely seen in the office, treats staff like servants, and appears more interested in likes and headlines than legislation.
“She’s never in the office and is very disengaged,” one former aide told reporters. “She does her bullsh*t that goes viral, then freaks out over the most random things.”
Another described her as “all diva, no wow” — a politician who forces staffers to rent luxury vehicles to shuttle her around like a celebrity and expects them to open doors and drive her on command. “If you don’t act like her personal chauffeur, she loses it,” said one aide. “It’s like working for a reality TV star on a taxpayer-funded salary.”
That disconnect between the on-camera bravado and the off-camera dysfunction is fueling a growing perception — even among Democrats — that Crockett is a political influencer first and a representative for her constituents second. And it’s costing her district.
Sources close to the congresswoman say she spends most of her time holed up in her D.C. apartment, rarely showing up to her Longworth, Texas House office, and offering little in the way of constituent services or legislative engagement. “She’s not focused on the people she was elected to serve,” one source said. “She’s focused on building her brand.”
And that brand has a striking resemblance to another familiar face in Democratic politics.
Crockett’s behind-the-scenes behavior draws uncanny parallels to former Vice President Kamala Harris, whose own staff described the former VP as an indecisive, image-obsessed boss with a pattern of mistreating aides. In fact, some say Crockett is walking a nearly identical path — only with cheaper packaging.
“She’s like a Temu Kamala Harris,” said one former aide. “Same entitlement, same obsession with optics, just less polish and fewer achievements.”
For voters in Texas’ 30th congressional district, that’s more than just an insult — it’s a warning sign. Crockett represents a deep-blue seat in Dallas, but one that may soon become a political battleground. Texas is poised to redraw its congressional map this year, and Crockett is one of five Democrats widely expected to lose their seats under the new lines. Her absence in the district — combined with a reputation for arrogance and inaccessibility — is likely to make her even more vulnerable.
This is a district that deserves an advocate — someone fighting for local infrastructure, public safety, and economic growth in a city that’s dealing with rising crime and housing costs. But instead of focusing on policy, Crockett seems far more interested in feuding with Marjorie Taylor Greene on TV and firing off social media posts that rack up engagement but deliver nothing for the people back home.
That’s not public service. That’s content creation.
It’s no surprise that Crockett has become a media darling on the Left — she says what liberal pundits want to hear and delivers it with flair. But the facade is starting to crack, and her own team is pulling back the curtain.
Voters didn’t send Jasmine Crockett to Washington to play dress-up as a TikTok politician. They sent her there to represent their interests — and from the looks of it, that job barely cracks her to-do list.
As her district prepares for possible redistricting — and Republicans eye the seat — Crockett may soon discover that social media stardom doesn’t always translate into electoral survival. Even Temu knockoffs get returned when they stop working.