Becoming Disenfranchised Changed My Outlook on Participating in the Democratic Process
I have been a registered voter since I was 18 years old and yet, now, at 42, I no longer have the choice to vote. To my knowledge, none of my friends have voted either. My reasoning for not doing so was that, “it does not affect me,” “nothing will ever change,” and finally, “my vote does not count anyways.” I didn't see what all the fuss was about. Ironically, in my 30s, I found myself imprisoned and disenfranchised. For almost ten years now, I have no longer had the choice of voting.
As I spent the years reflecting, I began to believe that if I had been more involved in my community, investing in democracy and what went on around me, I probably would not be sitting in prison. For one reason or another, I had been unconsciously isolating myself and withdrawing from society for years. Not “buying into” society puts you outside of it. When you do not believe you are a part of something, it is easier to disregard it. Instead of complaining about society's faults, I should have been working towards the changes I wished to see. Voting for the causes and candidates you support is central to that idea.
Particularly in state and local elections and ballot questions, a community member’s individual vote and voice counts. To be heard and to be able to express a perspective is exactly the point. By participating, you do not feel that policies are unilaterally imposed without representation. Didn't we fight a war of independence over that ideal? Without the right to vote, our voices do not matter, and we are not part of the constituency or the community.
Once I realized that I needed to be a part of that community, I began trying to repair the damage. I have undergone a lot of personal growth, but I am still being held at arm's length, because I cannot participate in one of the most basic components of our democracy. In Massachusetts, an individual can vote before, and after, incarceration for a felony conviction, but while he or she is being “rehabilitated,” they cannot vote. As individuals strive to build healthy, pro-social habits while incarcerated, this is a substantial roadblock. To be able to engage in the process that affects not only ourselves, but our loved ones, is a necessary facet of rehabilitation. Most incarcerated individuals will be returning to their communities. Isn’t it better if they are socially conscious, fully invested members of the community when they return? Those behaviors need to be nurtured here while in prison. Building healthy, civic minded habits occurs while an individual is incarcerated, and not magically upon release.
Originally, every person in the state was granted the right to vote under the Massachusetts Constitution. If incarcerated voices do not matter, then why, in 2000, did Governor Paul Cellucci sign an executive order and back a ballot initiative to strip prisoners of the right to vote and ability to donate political contributions and engage in campaigns?
Opponents sometimes argue that incarcerated individuals must first “pay debt to society” before voting, but no one is suggesting otherwise. The loss of freedom while incarcerated—no comforts, no family—is what pays that debt. No one would think that if a felon can vote, they have their freedom back. Voting is not a freedom, it is a duty. Giving incarcerated felons the right to vote is an investment in building better, safer communities, and lowering recidivism; which, end up saving taxpayer money and resources.
I took this right for granted and it is one of my biggest regrets. You never know when you could become disenfranchised—I was not planning on it either—or who could be disenfranchised next. Supporting voting rights restoration does not cost the community tax payer anything; but, it could produce significant cost savings down the road as these same individuals become productive members of society instead of re-offending. Not every inmate will vote. Some are not ready or not worthy, but if you deny the voting rights to one, you deny it to all.
Now that I am denied the right to vote, I understand why other, more historically disenfranchised groups fought so long and so hard for this right to be able to have a vote and a small voice in the things that matter. If I had known what was at stake, I would have exercised my right to vote long before that was taken away.…
Michael Moscaritolo, is a college and law school graduate who resides at MCI-Norfolk where he has been serving a life sentence since 2015. He is currently 42 years old.