A biweekly newsletter about the future of postsecondary education in prisons. Written by Open Campus national reporter Charlotte West.

NPR politics reporter Elena Moore and Open Campus reporter Charlotte West talked to four first-time, formerly incarcerated voters — or would-be voters, depending on where they live — about how they are navigating the presidential election.

Only Maine, Vermont, and Washington D.C. allow incarcerated people to vote while they are serving time in prison, and half of the states continue to deny voting rights to people on probation or parole. Some states permanently bar people with certain convictions from voting at all. 

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The four formerly incarcerated people were outliers in some ways compared to the general prison population. All four had access to higher education in prison, which is rare in many places in the United States. They all said it helped inform their approach to politics. Craig Muhammad, for instance, earned his bachelor’s degree in the late 1980s in Maryland, a few years before the tough-on-crime legislation of the 1994 Crime Bill prohibited incarcerated students from receiving federal finance aid. 

Open Campus previously featured Johnny Le'Dell Pippins’ quest for clemency from Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker, and his subsequent transition to life as a PhD student at the University of Iowa. Although Pippins has long been interested in politics, he can’t vote because he resides in Iowa. Similarly, Elizabeth Shatswell, who started her education in prison in Washington state but graduated last spring on campus at University of Puget Sound, wouldn’t have been able to vote if she remained in Virginia, where she was originally incarcerated. Kunlyna Tauch, who goes by K, came home a month ago and recently voted for the first time, along with his dad, a naturalized citizen originally from Cambodia. 

Read Elena and Charlotte’s story over at NPR, and listen to the voices of these first-time, formerly incarcerated voters. 

The interviews below have been edited lightly for length and clarity. Parts of these interviews were originally published by NPR. 

Craig Muhammad, Maryland

I’m 64 years old. I voted today for the first time in my life.

When I went into the polling station, I was a little nervous because I noticed my hands were shaking a little bit. As the process panned out…I began to calm down. 

It has been overwhelming because I'm a disciplined individual. I didn't allow my true feelings to show…But it's been emotionally overwhelming because today was the first time I've voted in 64 years….But more than anything, I was looking at the potential of what was accomplished here today at the polling station to be an inspiration for other individuals to follow who maybe have been a little apprehensive about voting. I've done it [so] that they can do it.

I think that the day…really crystallized that not just the state, but the country is a country of second chances. But you've got to know how to take advantage of those second chances. But I also think that when it comes to someone like me voting who has made errors in the past, I think that this state [Maryland] …is ahead of other states. 

Keep in mind, though, the time when people who look like me could not vote. So I think that…today was a historic day. 

Kunlyna “K” Tauch, California

Being able to vote…for the first time within my first three weeks [out of prison], feels like the country that I always loved, that I always knew was my own, it feels like it's finally mine, right?

As an Asian American, I've always felt [like an] outcast. I grew up in urban areas and they always talked about Black and brown. And I was always like, ‘how about me?’ When they talk about white people, I definitely didn't see myself in them. And then when you talk about Asians, you think about Chinese, Japanese, maybe Korean. And they were, you know, middle class to affluent families…And I'm dealing with this identity crisis and it never felt like America knew who K was, who a Cambodian American kid was.

And so being able to vote kind of brings back all those traumas to kind of heal [them]. Because even though they may not still recognize the Cambodian American in me, they have to recognize that vote.

Johnny Le’Dell Pippins, Iowa

My mother was a political person, but [my interest in politics] really started after the Bush v. Gore decision [in 2000]. That is when I really started paying closer attention to the politics itself. There was one thought that I was trying to reconcile. Hardly any of these young men who were locked up with me at the time were interested in voting or had ever voted or talked about it. And as I start to unravel it, it was because their parents hadn't voted. They had been disenfranchised. And so by default, we're disenfranchising one generation after another….And so I thought it was my duty to become more vested in the process. 

[Not being able to vote] does affect my patriotism when I see blatant hypocrisy… I read just like every other school kid about a whole group of men who threw a bunch of tea in a harbor for not having the right. They were being taxed, and yet they didn't have the right to vote. But how can we possibly still be doing this millennia later?

Actually buying into [the voting process] makes one understand how important the franchise is in America. This is your ticket... This says you are part of the process. You get to help decide and what you have to say that matters. To not have that, I'm still just a prisoner. I'm a prisoner with a new address. 

Elizabeth Shatswell, Washington

I was elated that I could even be part of the process. And then it was a little bit of a letdown that it was so simple…It was just like signing a piece of paper and then…just mailing it back. Then I shared what a letdown it was… with [formerly incarcerated] friends of mine who are in Virginia. I just assumed that they also had the right to vote because my rights were reinstalled without any question….And I got kind of chastised because they're like, ‘You're belittling…that it wasn't such a big process. But there is no process for us.’ It was like an aha moment for me that this was something that not everybody has access to. That it is a privilege…when it shouldn't be a privilege because we're all citizens. 

Voting specifically for me is like a way to address the fact that I didn't have any autonomy over the decisions in my life for 23 years and that people continue today to not have autonomy over their lives...Being able to vote is a way of pushing back against that monumental problem in a very small way, but a very meaningful way to me personally.

Let’s connect

Please connect if you have story ideas or just want to share your experience with prison education programs as a student or educator. You can always reach me at [email protected] or on Twitter, LinkedIn, or Instagram. To reach me via snail mail, you can write to: Open Campus, 2460 17th Avenue #1015, Santa Cruz, CA 95062.

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