OPRAH WINFREY: AMERICA'S FAVORITE MAMMY...
FROM ADVOCATE TO SELLOUT!
Back in 2007, before the internet fully exposed the true nature of celebrities and their carefully curated images, I saw through the façade of Oprah Winfrey. While many in the Black community still viewed her as a beacon of success, a champion of progress, and a symbol of Black excellence, I knew better. That’s why I created America’s Favorite Mammy—a political illustration that captured the uncomfortable truth about Oprah’s role in mainstream media.
Time has only validated what I depicted back then. With the rise of alternative media and independent voices, people are finally seeing Oprah for what she really is: a carefully controlled figure, playing her role to perfection, catering to the interests of those who made her a billionaire while strategically neglecting the very people she came from.
From Advocate to Sellout: Oprah’s Evolution
Oprah Winfrey wasn’t always a household name. In her early years, she tackled issues that resonated deeply with the Black community. Her platform was one of the few in mainstream media that gave voice to the struggles of everyday Black Americans. But something changed as she climbed the ranks of television royalty.
She distanced herself from the very people who supported her rise, opting instead to play it safe. She no longer addressed the systemic issues that plagued Black communities. She stayed far away from controversial topics that might upset her financial backers. And when it came to using her enormous influence to uplift Black causes, she chose to remain neutral or outright ignore them.
Her silence on matters of police brutality, mass incarceration, and economic disparity in Black America has been deafening. While she had the power to give a voice to Black leaders and revolutionaries, she deliberately avoided those who stood for something real.
The Gatekeepers She Would Never Challenge
A clear example of Oprah’s strategic self-censorship is her refusal to ever interview Minister Louis Farrakhan. Farrakhan is a controversial figure, yes, but also one of the most influential voices in Black self-empowerment. Any real journalist would be eager to sit down with him for a hard-hitting interview. But Oprah? She wouldn’t dare.
Why? Because her financiers—those who own the media she operates within—would never allow it. Farrakhan, despite his flaws, represents a threat to the power structure that Oprah serves. And he’s not the only one.
How many pro-Black, unapologetic voices has Oprah deliberately ignored? She never gave a platform to thinkers like Dr. Claude Anderson, who speaks on Black economic empowerment. She never sat down with Malcolm X’s daughters to discuss his legacy. She never gave the same energy to Black revolutionary figures as she did to New Age self-help gurus who push feel-good platitudes while saying nothing of substance.
She has mastered the art of Black erasure while pretending to represent us.
Stedman, Gayle, and Oprah’s Double Life
For decades, the public has speculated about Oprah’s personal life, particularly her relationships with Stedman Graham and Gayle King. While her private affairs are her business, her deliberate deception only invites more scrutiny.
Oprah and Stedman have been in a long-term relationship but have never married. Meanwhile, her closeness with Gayle has fueled rumors for years. Instead of addressing these speculations honestly, Oprah has played the game—presenting a carefully crafted image of heterosexual normalcy while keeping the truth hidden in the shadows.
Again, this isn’t about who she chooses to love. It’s about the performance. It’s about the illusion of one thing while living another. And this ties directly into her broader role as a public figure: one of deception, careful branding, and calculated moves to remain in favor with her true masters.
The Mammy Milk Industry: Feeding the System
This is where my 2007 illustration, America’s Favorite Mammy, comes into play.
In the artwork, Oprah is depicted as the modern-day mammy—her left breast exposed, feeding a little white baby. Behind her, carts of Mammy Milk are stacked, labeled with names such as:
"White Guilt Formula" – Designed to make white liberals feel better about systemic racism without actually changing anything.
"Loyal House Negro Formula" – A special blend for those who are willing to uphold the system in exchange for wealth and status.
"Guaranteed to Eliminate White Guilt After Only Three Delicious Servings" – Because Oprah’s brand is about making sure white audiences feel good, never uncomfortable.
A warning label on the bottles reads:
"Extended use will confuse Christians into believing Oprah’s New Age narcissistic utterances."
And isn’t that exactly what has happened? Through her platform, she has pushed watered-down spirituality that never truly challenges the status quo. She has preached about manifestation and self-love while ignoring the deeply rooted power structures that keep Black people at the bottom.
Building a School in Africa While Ignoring Chicago
One of the biggest contradictions in Oprah’s so-called philanthropy is her decision to build a school in South Africa while neglecting her own backyard.
Yes, education is important, and helping young girls in Africa is a noble cause. But why did Oprah never put that same energy into building institutions for Black children in America? Why didn’t she create schools for the underprivileged youth in Chicago, the city that helped make her a star?
The answer is simple: It’s easier to appear generous when the beneficiaries are far away, where no one can see the real impact.
The Prophetic Nature of My Artwork
When I created America’s Favorite Mammy in 2007, many people were uncomfortable with it. Some even accused me of being disrespectful toward a Black woman who had achieved success. But time has a way of revealing the truth.
Oprah Winfrey, in all her wealth and influence, has proven herself to be exactly what I depicted her as: a mammy for the modern age. She exists to comfort, entertain, and pacify white America while offering nothing of real substance to the Black community.
She plays it safe. She avoids controversy. She will never bite the hand that feeds her.
And now, in 2025, people are finally waking up. They are seeing Oprah for who she really is—a carefully crafted brand designed to sell hope and illusion while keeping the system intact.
So to those who criticized me back then, I ask: Was I wrong? Or was I just ahead of my time?