“Until we are all free, we are none of us free.”
~ Emma Lazarus, poet and activist
I was on a Zoom call with a friend in 2022 when I realized voting wasn’t the same from state to state. I lived in Oregon. My friend was in Georgia, and I was showing her how our state’s secure, vote-by-mail system worked.
I held the envelope up to the camera to show her the bar code. “It’s on the ballot, the envelope, everything. No one can vote a second time without getting caught.”
“That just comes to you automatically?”
“Yeah, it comes in the mail about a month before the election. You could technically vote in person—people with accommodations needs sometimes do, but everyone gets a ballot at home.”
“Here in Georgia, you have to fill out an application at least 11 days before the election in order to get an absentee ballot sent to you.”
“Wow, that’s a hassle! And if you don’t?”
“Then we have to go in person. They allow early voting in person, or you can vote on Election Day. The problem is the lines. Older folks can’t stand for five hours in the heat.”
“I wouldn’t want to, either! Not to mention taking hours off from work! And now it’s illegal there to give voters water while they’re waiting?”
My friend sighed and shook her head.
“I mean, not to brag, but I get to sit at my kitchen table and fill out my ballot. I have weeks to think and learn about the ballot measures.” I showed her a booklet. “We also get this voter’s guide that lists all the ballot measures and candidates’ platforms and endorsements by different groups.”
My friend’s face was one of shock. “Who pays for that?”
I had to think for a moment. “The Secretary of State’s office, I think? I mean, we do, as taxpayers, but their office coordinates it all.”
And it struck me. Georgians’ voting experience was completely different from my own. My state government was encouraging voters to participate and be informed, hers was not. Worse, it seemed to be actively trying to make voting harder.
“Where do you drop off your ballot if you vote absentee?”
“It’s a drive,” she said. “There used to be more places to drop them off, but every year, they are closing more and reducing their hours too. It can be a 40-minute round trip.”
“40 minutes?” I felt bad telling her the next part. “I live in a town of 10,000, and there are at least six secure drop boxes in town—the post office, two different grocery stores, there’s a drive-through one in a city parking lot…One of them is close enough for me to walk to.”
The Realization
The injustice of voting in America had never been more starkly obvious to me. I assumed everyone had the same experience as I had. Many times, I confess that I’d condemned my fellow Americans for failing to show up.
But reality hit me that day: voting is not easy for everyone, everywhere. And my friend’s sharing was the catalyst for insight.
Why This Matters
My southern friend’s community was mostly Black. Since abolition, people with racist beliefs have been trying to suppress voting by formerly enslaved Americans and their descendents. Georgia had already been in the news for other egregious anti-voting efforts, and contemporary difficulties seem intentional though under the guise of “security”.
Voting doesn’t matter as much as voters do
With November elections on the horizon and the sitting president “joking” about not having them, there’s a mistaken urgency many feel about getting out the vote. Please, absolutely vote in the primaries and midterms. Absolutely check that your registration hasn’t been purged. Repeatedly.
Here’s the thing: the ability to vote–the ease, convenience, and security of it—is a crucial mechanism of justice.
Project 2025 wants only a small pie slice of citizens to vote. No matter who has control of Congress, some in power will continue pursuing the goal of silencing voters—people of color, women, trans friends, disabled people, seniors, rural citizens, on and on. Achieving their goal will ensure that injustice persists at every level, affecting every issue from climate to economy to education. That’s not a headline. That’s facts.
Remember when Obama said, “Don’t boo! Vote!”? I would add, “Don’t just vote! Care!”
What?
A thriving democracy depends on listening. At a time when hearts are growing more callous to the cares of our neighbors, listening is a caring and crucial antidote.
It’s simple: Ask someone what it’s like to vote where they are. Don’t tell them to vote. Offer the gift of compassionate witness and let yourself be affected by their words. Let their struggle against injustice affect you into a sense of solidarity. When my friend’s patient explanations got through to me, it brought a renewed commitment to righting the wrongs of corrupt voting procedures.
Nerd disclaimer: Maybe it’s uncool and sappy to care about my friend’s voting experience, but I invite you to join me. Let’s be uncool, kind, pro-voting nerds together, working to better our democracy. Protecting every person’s ability to cast a ballot makes our nation stronger.
You’re invited to share
- What works about voting where you live?
- What do you think needs to change?
- What you might not know about voting in my state is…
This is a blog with a comments section, so please share below. Offer gratitude to others’ sharing. If you ask a friend about their voting experience, tell us about it!
Freedom to vote
In the words of Statue of Liberty poet and activist, Emma Lazarus, “Until we are all free, we are none of us free.” Thank you for showing up, sharing your story, and listening well—our democracy depends on it.
Warmly,
Jen Hofmann
Founder and Director
Americans of Conscience.com
In East Texas, some of our elders have to drive (many don’t have a car because they live in formerly segregated communities in the woods) into town, and then state laws now require identification that they may not have (due to having been born in segregated communities in the woods). When I got asked to travel for work during elections, I hadn’t request my absentee ballot in time and I was just SOL.
You literally couldn’t vote if you weren’t in town. Wow.
And yes, I’ve heard that too, that many people were and are born outside of the medical system, meaning they don’t have a state-issued birth certificate. This is something many of us take for granted. Depending on where you live, obtaining that document can take hours of legal work and cost real money. At what point does that cost become a unconstitutional poll tax?
In California, where I grew up, everyone gets a ballot in the mail now. In New York, though, where I’ve lived most of my adult life, you used to have to apply for an absentee ballot, providing a reason and signing an affidavit swearing you’d be unable to vote on Election Day. Now it’s easier: there’s early in-person voting at the polls, and anyone can choose to vote by mail. However, to vote by mail, you have to send a request for a ballot; they aren’t sent automatically to all voters.
I’d be curious to know more about how different voting rates would be if New York simply sent the ballots rather than requiring people request them.
While riding in an Uber, I met a new American citizen in California who was clearly excited to vote for the first time. His enthusiasm was infectious. He told me that the state makes voting information available in numerous languages. He beamed while telling me that he had read every ballot measure and candidate statement (sent to his home). I loved California for being so inclusive, putting so much effort into ensuring everyone could take part with confidence.
I should clarify that it wasn’t like that when I was growing up in California. Back then there was no such thing as vote-by-mail or early voting (though absentee ballots have been a thing as long as I can remember).
As for NY, I’m glad things have loosened up. Early voting and vote-by-mail (which somehow is different than absentee…yet really is the same) are relatively new.
I love your Uber story. It really is thrilling to vote for the first time. At my polling place, when someone votes for the first time, they ring a bell and announce “First time voter!” and everybody applauds.
Thanks for this, as always, friend.
Here in PA, we don’t have the ease of automatic mail in ballots, but most of us have pretty easy access. Your comment about really listening hits home though. One barrier of a coworker is the conviction that their vote won’t matter. We call that voter apathy, but doesn’t get to the heart of it. When your voice gets silenced, a learned helplessness that is protective sets in. I appreciate the reminder to be effected.
Yes, it’s so disheartening to see people believing the lie of their powerlessness to the point of checking out. I’m sure we’ve all been there at times too (I know I certainly have). I remember a lottery campaign in NY whose slogan was, “Hey, you never know.” Voting is kind of like that.
I’m glad to know that the listening part resonates for you. Without trying to change anyone’s mind, sometimes being present with someone’s story helps them shift out of it. No advice. No guilting. Just being present, being curious, slowing down to really hear the words between the words. In this sped-up world, it takes patience, but I’ve always been glad I did. Sometimes it’s me who ends up changed for the better! 🙂
“My vote doesn’t matter” makes me want to scream. I think it’s a slap in the face to those who put themselves on the line—people of color, women—so we’d all have the right to participate. People have sacrificed their lives for the right to equal participation, and it just infuriates me that some people don’t think of that. [Deep breath.] It’s also very sad, of course, that they feel disenfranchised.
In SC, I registered to vote in 2024 when we moved. I just checked my registration online and I’m not registered.
I have to go, in person, to 2 different places, confirm that I’m still a resident, and reregister to vote.
Thanks for the opportunity to share and remind people to check their registration.
Oh my gosh, Debbi. How did you feel when you discovered that you were no longer registered? Having to go to two places to REregister seems unjust and unreasonable to me.
Even though we run the risk of being a broken record, we reminds people to check their voter registration literally every month for the very reason you encountered. Here are the links:
Check your voter registration (secure site): https://www.usa.gov/confirm-voter-registration
Register to vote here: https://www.usa.gov/register-to-vote
With you in solidarity, Debbi!
Both where I used to live (Michigan) and where I live now (Illinois) one can sign up to a permanent absentee ballot list with no reason given. Both also have early voting, although Michigan has a shorter early voting period than Illinois. There are a decent amount of dropboxes and polling locations in the places in which I’ve lived in both states, although I can’t say how typical that is throughout either state. Registering to vote is also fairly easy in both, and can be done along with getting a driver’s license/state ID or separately online once one already has a driver’s license/state ID.
In Oregon in the 80s, it was so easy to vote absentee that most voters were voting by mail and the state just decided to make it official. It was a lot of energy all over the country in those days to get more people to vote. It seemed like such a no-brainer that I (sadly naïvely) I assumed that within a few years all the states would go to such an efficient and simplified way of voting. I had no idea how many places had vested interest in keeping people FROM voting! I am so grateful for our system in Oregon. I feel like a much better informed Voter because I can spend three weeks background checking candidates and issues and discussing with friends to get different points of view. I remember that days of having to just show up to the polling place, stepping in to vote, and realizing that I had no idea about half the things on the ballot and could do nothing but leave them blank. No way am I willing to vote for something I know nothing about!
I just want to say that, entirely outside of the civic responsibility/pro democracy part of it (although I like that too), I love the literal act of voting. If I vote by mail, I like spreading all of my materials out on the kitchen table. Filling in the bubbles. Signing the envelope. If I vote in person, I like putting my paper ballot into the machine that sucks it up. I like the tactile-ness of the privacy envelope. At home OR in person, I like the sticker. I’m fortunate that Rhode Island makes the process straightforward and accessible enough that I can hone in on those things (and make my voice heard, the most important part) without worrying about the status of my registration or the inaccessibility of long lines.
I think the world be a lot more fun in general if we got stickers for everyday things. Thanks for sharing your Rhode Island voting experience!