Introduction
Like a lot of people, I spent very little time contemplating the connection between law, criminal justice, and democracy. It wasnt until I had a direct experience of punishment for breaking the law and becoming an advocate for changeultimately leading a campaign for constitutional reform in Floridathat I was able to thread the needle between all three. Civic, political, and social life in the United States is governed by statutes that most of us seldom consider unless we are directly confronted by their consequences for ourselves and others. Yet I also believe that the infiltration of partisanship in all of these areas threatens the democracy we aspire to have.
As I learned firsthand from my experience with crime and punishment (a story Ill share later in this essay), sometimes the consequences of conviction are far reaching, with implications beyond the specific statute in question. Until recently, in my home state of Florida, anyone who was incarcerated for a felony would not only be required to serve time, pay fines, and compensate the victims, but would then face the permanent loss of voting rights. That person could never again participate in elections.
The punitive law that stripped returning citizenspeople who are convicted of crimes, serve time, and then resume regular life and activities after paying their debtsof their vote, disenfranchising millions of Floridians over the decades, fundamentally alters the politics of our state and, arguably, the nation. Right now, in the United States of America, over six million people have paid their debts to society for past mistakes, yet they cannot vote.
In 2018, my organization, the Florida Rights Restoration Coalition, led a dark-horse campaign to change the law in Florida by amending our state constitution at the ballot box. This essay will look at why it was necessary, how we overcame partisanship to win a landslide victory, and how its lessons can help save American democracy.
The Impact of Law and Criminal Justice
The definition of a felony varies widely from state to state. In Florida, a felony is defined as any crime for which the punishment can exceed a year of imprisonment. Felonies in Florida cover a wide range of illegal behaviors. Additionally, the state also has a low threshold for felony conviction when it comes to some crimes. For years, for instance, Floridas felony theft threshold was just $300much lower than neighboring states like Georgia or South Carolina which classify comparable thefts as misdemeanors. All this means that in Florida felony convictions are comparatively quite common.
In 2010, the last year for which comprehensive data is available, the average national rate of felony conviction was at 8.11 percent of the voting-age population. The rate was almost double that in Florida, at just over 15 percent. Black and Brown Floridians are disproportionately affected in large part because we are more likely to be arrested for drug offenses. And because a felony conviction triggers a loss of civil rights, including the right to vote, one in five Black Floridians were left unable to participate in any election. The vast majority of these people were not, in fact, behind bars. Like myself, they were returning citizenspeople who paid their debts, served their time, and were discharged to resume life in the community. And since our exclusion from voting took away our ability to choose the decision-makers who determine key policies that shape incarceration and reentry, we were also left without the means to address these problems.
Returning citizens face a range of obstacles in reentering communities, including barriers to employment, housing, health care, and basic social services. For returning citizens like me, its a long and winding road not just to equal rights, but to fairness and redemption. Thats why my organization, the Florida Rights Restoration Coalition, ultimately organized returning citizens and their families for the long haul.
Throughout my early advocacy days, I spent a considerable amount of time engaged in get out the vote and voter registration efforts. I would often encounter people whose response to my effort would be, I dont have time to waste on that; My vote doesnt count; or, Even if I vote, it doesnt matter who gets in office; were still screwed! I was always taught to not debate with people when they refuse to engage. My supervisor always told me to keep it moving; primarily because I needed to have a certain amount of engagements on a daily basis. I needed to make the numbers, or meet the quota. When I first started, I used to adhere to that guidance, but eventually I became too curious to continue to ignore these frequent responses. I just had to know what it was that caused people to feel so apathetic about voting; what was making people lose hope in a democracy that was supposed to be for them. So I broke the rule. One day after I was given the typical response, I started to walk away, but I couldnt contain my curiosity any longer. I turned around and asked that person why they held that belief.
Almost immediately after starting the conversion, I discovered that this person couldnt even vote to begin with, having been barred from voting due to a prior felony conviction. This revelation took me back to a time after being released from prison. As I would be walking to some destination or another, someone would approach me and ask if I would like to register to vote, or if I would like to actually go and vote in a current election. These questions triggered an internal feeling of shame. It was a brutal reminder that I was not truly a part of my community; and telling someone about a past felony conviction or imprisonment is a badge of shame that I, like so many others, didnt care to share unless it was really necessary. I understood why someone could so easily respond with indifference. Nothing speaks more to citizenship than being able to vote; therefore, how can one feel like they are a part of society or a part of their community when they are being denied the franchise?
After that eye-opening conversation, I decided to figure out a way to quickly determine if someones refusal to engage was because they didnt want to be bothered, or whether it was because they had been barred from voting. I developed an approach that allowed me, within a matter of seconds, to quickly identify who was the returning citizen. What I discovered was revelatory. The overwhelming number of people upset by my approach were returning citizens. It wasnt that a lot of people I encountered didnt care about participating in our democracy. It was that a lot of people I encountered believed that they could not.
I began to notice this narrative about voting not being important, or our vote doesnt matter, was a story that was most prevalent among returning citizens. Its purpose was to mask the pain and embarrassment of exclusion. Worse, its effect reached into entire families and communities. The narrative is not exclusive to the encounter between activists and returning citizens. It also appears wherever and whenever there is a discussion about registering to vote or going to vote during an election. As a result, it is not only heard by activists, but also by family members, friends, and colleagues. Indeed, I also discovered that the impact of the loss of voting rights is not restricted to the returning citizen. Families and social networks also carry the burdens. I found that having someone in your life who is barred from voting can influence whether or not you vote, too: if the returning citizen is someone of influence within their circle of friends, family, or communitya not-uncommon situationthen whole groups of people who otherwise would be qualified to vote become uninterested in the process.
