Before the Ballot

Not every vote has the same impact. I don’t say that because some people’s votes are disqualified for politically motivated reasons or because the electoral college renders some people’s votes less potent than others’. All that is true. What I mean to say is that whether we get what we want from our votes has little to do with the election itself. Our votes lead to change only when a social movement backs them up.

This has certainly been the case with recent successes in criminal-justice reform. The 2020 candidates are talking about this issue today because we made reform feel possible and necessary in our communities and our culture first.

We currently lock up more people in jails, detention centers and prisons than any other country in the world: around 2.3 million, one in five of them for nonviolent drug offenses. We ensnare another nearly 4.5 million people in the probation and parole system, which often serves as just another way to exploit them financially before ultimately sending many of them back to jail or prison. On any given night American jails house 731,000 people, 76 percent of whom haven’t been convicted of a crime. Most people get trapped in the system because they can’t afford bail, which prosecutors and judges often set out of reach.

And that doesn’t even include the policing side of criminal justice: the life-altering and community-destroying violations of our rights, the harassment and violence (including sexual violence) committed by law enforcement officers across the country every day, largely targeting communities of color. The entire system, in fact, is defined by racial bias and racial disparities—from prosecutors who pursue harsher sentences for black people than for white people for the same crime to an incarcerated population that is 40 percent black, even though black people represent only 13 percent of the U.S. population. “Reform” doesn’t begin to capture what’s needed, but it’s the first step.

The movement pushing for reform in this space has risen over the past several years, amplified by social media and online organizing campaigns. It made politicians accountable long after the election was over and made them deliver on real policy change. But it didn’t happen overnight.

On the first day of 2009, Oscar Grant was killed, and footage of his death subsequently went viral. Residents in Oakland, California took to the streets in protest. The recording of George Zimmerman’s 911 call moments before he shot and killed Trayvon Martin in 2012 was shared on social media and moved Floridians into action, along with millions of their allies across the country. Then, in the summer of 2014, came the uprising in Ferguson, Missouri after the killing of Michael Brown. St. Louis–area activists not only demanded an end to police violence but also showed how money bail, excessive ticketing and other exploitative, racially driven practices had become so standard that city budgets were sustained on the backs of the black people they targeted. The 2015 death of Sandra Bland in Texas moved more people to raise their voices about abusive policing, pre-trial detention in jail and the refusal of local prosecutors to hold law enforcement accountable.

These moments and many others became highly visible symbols of the day-to-day injustice in our system and empowered a new wave of activism focused on racial justice. Everyday people were driven into the streets, into the media, into public service and into philanthropic endeavors.

And then into the polls. We used the vote to end the careers of politicians standing in the way of reform and to elevate those committed to it. New, black-led initiatives (like those of my own organization, Color of Change) sprouted across the country, aiming to channel the new wave of energy into the political process. While the federal debate is important, more than 80 percent of America’s prison population is incarcerated at the local and state levels. We put forward-thinking district attorneys, judges, sheriffs, governors and attorneys general on the ballot and made sure they got into office. Afterward, continued pressure made them deliver on their promises. This new political influence is a result of efforts by formerly incarcerated people and others from impacted communities—all essential leaders in campaigns targeting money-bail profiteers, changing what the public demands from prosecutors and so much more.

The power of culture also helped amplify the power of our movement and, ultimately, the power of our votes. Michelle Alexander’s best-selling book The New Jim Crow, as well as Ava DuVernay’s Emmy-winning documentary 13th and recent Netflix series When They See Us are just a few examples of popular media that helped paint a clearer picture of a violently unjust criminal-justice system. Jay-Z, John Legend, Colin Kaepernick and many others, including those behind the scenes brave enough to move such projects forward, took on money bail, policing and other issues. They’ve all helped disrupt deeply held beliefs about crime and punishment that are rooted in racism and capitalism, and their efforts fuel the larger movement.

That momentum has forced politicians and decision makers to do things they didn’t want to do, thought they couldn’t do or thought they could get away with not doing. Candidates in 2020, from those running for prosecutor to those running for president, are all talking about criminal-justice reform. Former vice president Joe Biden, Senator Kamala Harris and others have been compelled to answer for their past criminal-justice policies. This line of questioning would have been unthinkable in the 2012 election. We’ve changed the standards for what it takes to win our votes.

Very little in politics just happens. Political discourse is guided by the public’s demand for change. Criminal justice is now inextricably tied to the ballot because people forced the issue into public debate. But no matter what happens at the polls in November, our work isn’t done. We have to ensure that once the election is over, campaign rhetoric translates into legal action. We have to continue to make our voices heard before our votes can drive change.

Rashad Robinson is president of Color of Change, a leading racial-justice organization with more than 1.5 million members.