Silencing the Status Quo

The act of casting a vote in an election is one of the largest mass political rituals in this country. For many millions of people, it’s the only explicitly political act they perform. But for many millions of others, voting feels like a futile effort.

Compared with other democratic countries, the U.S. has had one of the lowest voter-turnout percentages in recent years. Over the past 40 years, an average of 62.7 percent of the country’s eligible population has exercised their right to vote. Why is more than a third of the American populace opting out?

Voting functions as a political oil change. In ideal circumstances it allows for an organized battle of ideas and ensures a smooth transition between elected representatives. But for groups of people who constantly face structural oppression, the maintenance of a system that doesn’t serve them is of little concern. Despite the pervasive narrative in the media, the lack of turnout isn’t all about apathy. It may actually be an active expression of discontent with the status quo.

During the 2018 midterm elections, my organization, Mijente, focused its efforts on mobilizing Latinx immigrants in Georgia. We knocked on thousands of doors to talk with voters about the governor’s race, advocating for Stacey Abrams. We anticipated pushback from Latinx voters but found instead that people were curious. In conversations they wondered if their vote actually mattered and whether there was a substantive difference between the political parties. Mostly, however, they revealed that no one ever came to speak to them about elections.

Those immigrant and Latinx voters in Georgia, along with all other infrequent or inactive voters, must be welcomed into the conversation before it’s time to vote if we want them to show up. The critical act of voting must be combined with collective organizing efforts—in advance—if we want the elected to represent the entire population and not just a privileged fraction of it.

Although individuals run for office and individuals cast ballots, it’s collective groups who set the terms of the debates leading up to the election. Following the 2008 election of Barack Obama and amid one of the most significant financial crises in the century, we saw the rise of the Tea Party. One of the movement’s major tenets was fiscal conservatism: It took a hard line against increasing the national debt. This became the dominant issue of discussion, which prevented the government from addressing social issues that would require funding.

Under the Trump administration, on the other hand, fiscal hawks have become crickets. Rising debt has become insignificant as plans to build border walls and wage wars abroad have taken precedence. In both instances, organized and well-resourced groups have created political terms that have real policy impact. Nothing in politics is serendipitous.

Now more than ever, political underdogs are stepping up and making sure their collective voices are heard. Over the past several electoral cycles, undocumented communities have demanded a stop to deportations. In doing so, they have affected public perception of immigration policy and disrupted preconceived notions of who gets to speak about these issues. Similarly, when the Sunrise Movement gained traction last fall, candidates were forced to take positions on climate change and the Green New Deal.

These organizers contest the notion that all we need to do is maintain business as usual. Their efforts have also helped shape the candidate pool for this coming election. An unprecedented number of women and LGBTQ people, many of them community organizers and advocates, are running for office. These insurgent campaigns challenge the GOP as well as the Democratic Party status quo. On a smaller scale, several states are becoming electoral battlegrounds where the political parties that have comfortably held power are being challenged. The 2019 election results in Virginia demonstrated this as Democrats took control of the previously red state. As the Latinx population grows, states like Arizona and Texas are likely to begin trending in this direction as well.

A record 32 million Latinxs are projected to be eligible to vote in this year’s election, making them the largest racial and ethnic minority group in the electorate. An estimated 27 percent of those who cast ballots in the 2018 midterms were first-time midterm voters. Our power, as outsiders, is rising.

Those of us who have been targeted by the Make America Great Again narrative have an opportunity to reshape the terms of the election. We can use our vote to ensure that democracy is not simply a ritual by which we choose the “lesser of two evils” but a system that offers viable options for political representation.

Through deep organizing we can motivate people to fight like hell for the solutions we seek to the challenges of our time. In doing so, we can make our government work for the many—like every democracy should—instead of for the few.

Marisa Franco is co-founder of Mijente, a social-justice hub for Latinx and Chicanx people. She is based in Arizona.