Locked Out: Democracy Behind Bars

A special series on voting, politics and democracy behind bars.

by PJP Editors September 25, 2024November 7, 2024

A woman in prison paints a portrait of herself at a voting booth

"Outside the Rusted Decay Of Confinement," 2024 by Alvin Smith. Acrylic on canvas. Painted in a day room of the Muskegon Correctional Facility, in Michigan.

What to the incarcerated American is the freedom to vote?

For most of the nearly 1.5 million people locked up in prisons across the U.S., there is, in fact, no freedom to vote at all. Only two states, Maine and Vermont, permit the franchise to its incarcerated citizens.

To those who don’t have it, the vote is many things. Weighed down after years in the system, skeptics shrug their shoulders and wonder: What good would it do, anyway? Realists see the ballot box as a worthwhile opportunity to promote one’s self-interest. They concede that politics often disappoints, but maybe, if their candidate wins, at least someone would be in their corner. And then there are the idealists, who find in the vote a reason for hope, a sense that within it lie the seeds of rehabilitation and civic renewal.

Meanwhile, millions of people with felony convictions who have completed their prison sentences are also shut out of the ballot box. State laws vary widely, leading to confusion about who is eligible and when. In general, more and more states are beginning to restore voting rights to people once they leave prison. But many still require both parole to be completed and fines, fees and restitution to be paid before they can vote again. Ten states revoke voting rights indefinitely (though in some situations a governor can issue a pardon).

Ahead of the presidential election this November, Prison Journalism Project invited contributors to share their perspectives on voting and politics behind bars and post-release. The stories collected here grapple with questions that strike at the heart of democracy in the era of mass incarceration: What is it like to run for public office from jail? How does intergenerational incarceration affect a family’s relationship to civic responsibility? What would it take for people locked out of the democratic process to truly be heard?

As we were preparing this series, a New York jury convicted Donald Trump of felony crimes on 34 counts. His unprecedented conviction did not affect his current presidential bid. Nor will it impede his right to vote for himself in November, since the former president will not be sentenced until after the election.

For many of our contributors, the news landed as a bitter irony. As one put it: “For years I have been out here struggling to find employment and housing because of my felonies. My life before incarceration was hard, but prison took everything from me. … And yet Trump can be convicted of multiple felonies and still run for president? Can someone explain that to me?”

“Locked Out” stories and interviews will appear throughout September and October. We thank you for reading.

— Mason Bryan, senior editor