Weekend Read: 'They served their time. Their voices could make a huge difference.'
Lorena Barnum Sabbs was just 11 years old when she was arrested.
She was trying to integrate the local movie theater in Americus, Georgia. But when the group of 30 girls refused to leave the balcony, police arrested them and drove them almost an hour away to the Leesburg Stockade. They slept on the cells’ cement floors. They were threatened. A snake was thrown into their cells. Some were held as long as 45 days.
Their parents didn’t know where they were until a local dogcatcher spread the word. No one could get them out until the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee sent a photographer. Sabbs told the story of her 1963 arrest to Susan Chira, who interviewed more than 50 black women during a this week.
As Chira writes:
In Columbus, Ga., women sit in the fellowship hall of the Emmanuel Christian Community Church, clipboards at the ready to register voters. In Panama City, Fla., sorority sisters park themselves at a street corner across from an imperiled elementary school, holding signs reminding people to vote. And in Greenville, Miss., the mayor of a nearby town founded by sharecroppers says she will not give up on coaxing young people to the polls, even as they complain their votes don’t matter.
It can be easy sometimes in the Deep South to think that your vote doesn’t matter.
Millions of Southern voters are shut out of the democratic process by voter roll purges, shortened voting hours, picture ID requirements, shuttered polling places, and laws that disenfranchise people with felony convictions.
In fact, . That’s why college students Kayla and Kiana Blaine are working in Florida to make sure that Amendment 4 — which would restore voting rights to most formerly incarcerated people — is passed.
“They’ve served their time,” Kiana . “Their voices could make a huge difference.”
We’re working to pass Amendment 4, too. Florida is one of just four states that permanently ban people convicted of felonies from voting. This constitutional amendment would restore the voting rights of 1.4 million Floridians who’ve been convicted of a felony — and that’s not the only place we’re working to restore voting rights.
In Louisiana, we filed an amicus brief in a lawsuit with the NAACP and the Sentencing Project challenging the state’s felony disenfranchisement policy, which is rooted in racial discrimination.
In Alabama, lawmakers recently made thousands of formerly incarcerated Alabamians eligible to vote — but didn’t tell them. We’re before the election that will take place exactly one month from today.
And in Mississippi we’ve filed a lawsuit to overturn the state’s discriminatory lifetime voting ban. One in six black Mississippians can’t cast a ballot thanks to a state constitution written specifically to prevent freed slaves and their descendants from gaining political influence. But as ,
The very issue that has alienated many young black people — a belief that the criminal justice system is stacked against black men — can also be used to persuade them to vote, said DeJuana Thompson, a veteran of the Alabama Senate effort who founded the advocacy group Woke Vote to reach black millennials. She said she tells them, “You can do something to change what is happening to you and your friends. Part of that is voting, part of that is protest.”
We’ll continue to do both — and work to make sure others can, too.
The Editors.
P.S. Here are some other pieces we think are valuable:
- by Carly Goodman for The Washington Post
- by Robin McDonald for The Bitter Southerner
- by Clyde Haberman for The New York Times
- by Michael Majchrowicz and Mary Katherine Wildeman for Post and Courier
​ĂŰĚŇ´«Ă˝'s Weekend Reads are a weekly summary of the most important reporting and commentary from around the country on civil rights, economic and racial inequity, and hate and extremism. Sign up to receive Weekend Reads every Saturday morning.
