Today, I woke up to a profound sense of disappointment and confusion following the United States presidential election results. It is difficult to process the reality that a person with a well-documented history of racism, misogyny, and a blatant disregard for the pillars of democracy—someone who has incited violence, faced numerous indictments for election interference, attempted to undermine the electoral process, falsified documents, committed fraud, and accrued a staggering 34 felony convictions—has been chosen to lead this nation. How can we reconcile this decision, especially when it represents the voice of so many Americans, some of whom are my neighbors, colleagues, and friends? People who know who he is, what he’s done, and yet cast their ballots in his favor.

This outcome raises questions that go beyond politics. What does it mean about our collective values as a nation? As a society, we often hold individuals accountable for their misdeeds, condemning those with felony convictions to a lifetime of exclusion and punishment, even after they’ve served their time. For these individuals, there is no grace, no opportunity to prove they can be better. They face a wall of over 40,000 collateral consequences that prevent them from fully reentering society, building better lives, and contributing to their communities. Yet here, we have granted grace to someone who has repeatedly shown disdain for the rule of law and respect for others.

For those of us impacted by the justice system, who know firsthand the challenges of trying to overcome mistakes and rebuild lives, this election feels like a slap in the face. It is disheartening to see a nation willing to overlook serious transgressions at the highest levels while punishing everyday people for far less. This double standard not only reveals a painful inconsistency in how we value accountability but also perpetuates a message that some are simply above the law.

It’s a call for reflection on the character of our country. Are we, as Americans, content to accept leaders who defy the very standards we hold ordinary citizens to? This moment challenges us to reconsider our sense of justice, equity, and compassion. If we are to move forward as a unified nation, we must reckon with the ways in which our choices contradict our stated values.

My hope is that we use this moment to examine not just our political divisions but the underlying principles we claim to uphold as a society. For a truly just and compassionate future, we must demand more of ourselves—and more of those we choose to lead us.

    In Solidarity, 

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    Pamela Winn
    President & Founding Director 
    RestoreHER US.America

In the heart of the United States, a nation that prides itself as the bastion of democracy and freedom, a paradox unfolds. Here, in this "land of the free," where individuals risk everything for a promise of liberty, the shadows of oversight extend even into the sanctum of our democratic rights—our right to vote. Georgia stands as a poignant example of this contradiction, participating in the Electronic Registration Information System (ERIC), a multistate information-sharing initiative designed to police voter registrations by identifying voters who have moved or passed away. This system, however, is just the tip of the iceberg in a series of measures that seemingly aim to safeguard electoral integrity but, in reality, serve as mechanisms of voter suppression. 

Brad Raffensperger, Georgia's Secretary of State, recently announced plans to cancel 191,000 "inactive" voter registrations with thousands more already canceled, praising Georgia's voter rolls as the "cleanest in the nation." This act is not isolated; it follows a history of purging that saw a record 534,000 registrations canceled in 2017. While the intent is proclaimed to be the preservation of electoral integrity, one cannot help but see the underlying currents of disenfranchisement, particularly against the most vulnerable populations, including the formerly incarcerated. 
In Georgia, those with a completed felony sentence, meaning they are no longer on probation or parole, regain their right to vote. This distinction importantly includes those who still owe fines, fees, or restitution. Moreover, individuals incarcerated but not convicted of a felony are also eligible to vote. Despite these allowances, the reality is starkly different for formerly incarcerated individuals, who face disproportionate challenges, such as homelessness and housing instability—issues that significantly increase their likelihood of being categorized as "inactive" voters and thus, susceptible to being purged from voter rolls.

The narrative of disenfranchisement is personal to many, including myself, a former homeowner turned homeless after serving a 78-month federal sentence for a white-collar crime. My journey, marked by constant relocation due to housing discrimination, underscores a critical flaw in the system: being marked inactive and subsequently purged from voter rolls does not equate to a lack of interest or intent to participate in the democratic process. It is a byproduct of systemic barriers that unjustly silence voices.

In response to these challenges, organizations like RestoreHER US.America have taken significant steps to empower and educate the formerly incarcerated about their voting rights, while also working to reform the system. Initiatives like SB105, which potentially shortens probation periods and thereby reinstates voting eligibility sooner, alongside educational efforts through the IMPPACT program, aim to combat voter suppression and reinvigorate democratic participation among marginalized communities.

Yet, the question remains: Why should the act of registration, a declaration of one's intent to participate in democracy, be subject to cancellation based on turnout or personal circumstances that prevent engagement in every electoral cycle? The essence of democracy is not just the act of voting but the right to vote—the assurance that one's voice can be heard when they choose to speak.

As we reflect on the state of our democracy, it becomes clear that the true measure of our nation's commitment to freedom and justice is not in the cleanliness of our voter rolls, but in the inclusivity of our electoral process. The efforts to police the vote, under the guise of maintaining electoral integrity, reveal a disconcerting willingness to sacrifice the democratic principles of accessibility and equality for administrative convenience.

The path forward must involve a reevaluation of our priorities, shifting focus from policing the vote to empowering it. Policies and practices that disproportionately impact the most vulnerable, disenfranchising them either directly or through the creation of insurmountable barriers, must be critically examined and reformed. Our democracy is only as strong as the voices it includes, and it is time we ensure that every voice, especially those that have been silenced or marginalized, is heard.
In this endeavor, we are called not only to challenge the systems in place but to advocate for a more inclusive, equitable, and just democratic process. This is the essence of the American promise—the true realization of a land where freedom and democracy are not just ideals, but realities for all.

In Solidarity,

Pamela Winn, President & Founding Director, RestoreHER US.America