This story is part of Locked Out, a special series from PJP about voting, politics and democracy behind bars. Click here to read more.
Before serving 28 years in a California prison for second-degree murder, I had voted in every election.
When I was no longer able to vote while inside, I created voter guides instead and mailed them out to friends and family. In my cell, I used a typewriter and carbon paper to make multiple copies of my guides. Then I would barter with indigent prisoners for their envelopes (people inside who were particularly poor received free, pre-stamped envelopes). Friends and family would also mail me sample ballots, and I would make recommendations to them. To make sure I was informed, I read the Los Angeles Times and the Santa Barbara News-Press every day. I also had subscriptions to Time and Newsweek magazines.
These voter guides had been my only means of participating politically. I don’t know how much I influenced people with my suggestions, but it helped me feel involved, and even useful. I hated not being able to cast a vote myself.
While incarcerated, I advocated for all California residents to be able to vote, as they are in Maine, Vermont and Washington, D.C. Prisoners are still citizens. And even as an imprisoned person, I was still concerned for the well-being of my friends, family and community.
“Prison,” I wrote in 2020, just months after my release, “was never my home.”
After I was released from prison, California voters overwhelmingly passed Proposition 17, which restored the right to vote for people with felony convictions who were no longer behind bars. The proposition’s successful passage, in November 2020, enfranchised nearly 50,000 Californians.
Today, California is among 23 states where people with felony convictions can vote once released, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures. This includes people on parole.
Prop. 17, however, did not go far enough. I still believe that citizens behind bars should be able to vote.
The arguments against universal enfranchisement tend to go like this: You broke the law. Why should you have the right to vote for laws that govern everyone else?
But this logic only takes you so far. It ignores the fact that such disenfranchisement laws were born in the wake of the Civil War and had explicitly racist motivations.
Second, it assumes that the criminal justice system accurately determines who is worthy of voting and who is not. California, like the rest of the country, criminalizes substance abuse, mental health problems, and challenges related to poverty. What’s more, the state, like the country, sends Black and Latino people to prison at higher rates than it incarcerates white people.
Why should we trust this system to determine whether a person is responsible enough to vote?
Efforts to restore the right to vote to incarcerated people have been stymied. But, at least in California, it is easy for those with felony convictions to vote if you have completed your prison sentence. You can register online or when you apply for a driver’s license. Ballots are mailed to you. No postage is needed to return your filled ballot. Voting by mail is a painless way to fulfill your responsibility as a citizen.
I have met many people who complain of politics and politicians but choose not to vote. That saddens me. There is nothing worse than a complainer who does nothing to change their situation.
The right to vote is important. It provides you a legal means to express what you want from your local city council, county supervisor, state assembly and senate, as well as congressional representatives, senators and the president.
If you exercise the right to vote, politicians have to listen to you. After all, they need the votes to stay in office. Your vote gives you license to sit in on your local city council meetings and express yourself on issues that concern you. Imagine convincing a hundred of your friends to vote on an issue or candidate. A block of 100 votes could sway an election. Your vote matters.
The upcoming November election is an exciting and important historical moment. The choice for the president of our country is between a convicted felon and a woman who respects the laws of the land.
As a former prisoner and convicted felon myself, I understand the preciousness of the right to vote. I am grateful to be able to vote for a presidential candidate again.

