By Ramon Robinson
As the Epstein files continue to surface, what is being revealed is not just the crimes of one wealthy predator but the exposure of how deeply corruption runs among America’s most powerful men. Jeffrey Epstein was not simply abusing children in secret. His emails reference Israel. His connections stretch internationally. His social circle included politicians, billionaires, and elites who had the power to stop him and chose not to. Epstein operated for decades because powerful systems protected him.
One of the names that refuses to disappear from Epstein’s orbit is Donald Trump. Trump was not a distant acquaintance. He socialized with Epstein, partied with him, and moved within the same exclusive circles where young girls were recruited and abused. Trump’s name now appears across court filings, witness testimony, investigative reporting, and public records more than one million times since the scandal erupted. This was repeated proximity, not coincidence.
Even more damning is what followed. The man who gave Epstein his infamous sweetheart deal in 2008, allowing him to escape real prison time despite overwhelming evidence of child sexual exploitation, was Alex Acosta. Instead of being held accountable for protecting a predator, Acosta was later appointed by Trump to a cabinet position as Secretary of Labor. The same administration that claimed to stand for law and order elevated the official who shielded one of the most prolific abusers in modern history.
This is not poor judgment.
This is how powerful men protect one another.
Epstein was able to traffic children because wealth insulated him. Trump remained close because power shields power. And when exposure finally came, the people who helped bury the crimes were rewarded rather than punished.
This is not a new American story.
Before human trafficking had a name, it was the backbone of the nation’s economy. Enslaved Africans were kidnapped, sold, transported across state lines, raped, and bred for profit. Children were ripped from parents and auctioned. Young girls were sexually assaulted as teenagers and forced to give birth so their bodies could produce more property. Sexual violence was legal. The children of rape automatically belonged to the enslaver. Abuse was not hidden. It was business.
When the international slave trade ended in 1808, exploitation did not stop. Enslavers simply turned inward. Women were systematically raped to increase the enslaved population. Some plantations existed primarily to produce children for sale. This was recorded in financial ledgers, advertised publicly, and enforced by law. America did not stumble into trafficking. America perfected it.
As I studied the words of Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman, their experiences stopped feeling like distant history. Then I became a content moderator and witnessed the modern version of the same evil unfold daily. Children groomed. Sold. Beaten. Exploited. Filmed. Disposed of.
In their eyes was the same silent question enslaved child-ren must have carried centuries ago.
Why me?
I saw children locked in cages. I saw them tortured. I saw them harmed for entertainment. I saw them killed. Not by one monster but by organized systems built to profit from suffering.
What many Americans struggle to believe today was once openly celebrated. Black babies were used as alligator bait. Adults threw baseballs at Black children for sport. Lynchings were community gatherings where families brought their kids. Smiling crowds posed beside hanging bodies. Those photographs were turned into postcards and mailed like souvenirs.
Cruelty was taught.
Violence was normalized.
Dehumanization became culture.
That is why exploitation never disappeared.
The structure never changed. Only the methods did.
Chains became hush money.
Auctions became private flights.
Slave codes became legal loopholes.
In every era the victims are powerless.
In every era the abusers are protected.
Epstein was not an exception. He was a modern version of a system America has always defended when the perpetrators are wealthy and connected. Trump’s proximity to Epstein and his elevation of those who protected him fit perfectly into this historical pattern.
And now, as these truths grow harder to ignore, the same forces in power are erasing slavery from textbooks and softening the history in national parks. Brutality is being removed. Language is being sanitized. Context is being stripped away.
This is not about discomfort.
This is about hiding a system that never ended.
If Americans truly understood that the first massive trafficking network in this country was slavery, Epstein would not shock them. Trump’s con-nections would not surprise them. Powerful men protecting predators would feel expected.
Because it has always worked this way.
For Black America, this is not revelation. It is repetition.
From plantations to prisons to private islands to the internet, the faces change but the system remains.
This is not a scandal.
It is a pattern.
And it is as old as America.