Voting registration can pose challenges to potential voters
In the corpse of October, after autumn’s skin, veins and organs of roasted oranges had ripened and began to decay, when its breath held vestiges of the murky transition point between damp leaves and dour cold, I received a letter in the mail. Flicking my mailbox open, I examined the envelope, flipping it over in my hands to inspect the official state seal stamped across its surface. It was my eighteenth birthday, and the cheery, congratulatory balloons tethered to my backpack grinned at the impenetrable haze of silver sky as I rushed to my house.
Clutching the letter to my chest, I grinned wildly, a buoyant, airy joy spreading through my limbs. The state had sent me a voter registration form.
Ever since I was a little girl, when my parents would urge me to vocally analyze news reports and political commentaries, I have always dreamed about having my voice heard through the ballot.
Now, with this registration form, I could finally fulfill one of my greatest dreams: voting.
However, a good portion of my enthusiasm was extinguished shortly afterwards.
Scratching my head over bureaucratic minutiae, bubbling in questions and locating identification forms, I suffered the lengthy, laborious procedure required to complete my registration.
In order to get registered to vote, I had to fill out a voter registration form, which mainly verified that I fulfill the three requirements necessary in order to be eligible to vote: an age of at least eighteen years, a status as a US citizen and a residency in the state of at least 18 days.
Initially, completing this form was easy since most of the questions pertained to basic personal data, such as the aforementioned eligibility requirements and some simple forms of identification.
For instance, to showcase evidence of my identity, I attached a printed page of my passport, which displayed the necessary photo identification needed to get registered, to my registration form.
But for a sizeable portion of the population, including me, due to the necessity of providing proof of residence, which ensures that one does truly live in the area in which he or she is voting, getting registered to vote can seem like an impossible process.
According to the Wisconsin Accountability Board, there are several forms that could count as proper evidence of proof of residence, which include, but are not limited to, a current and valid State of Wisconsin Driver License or State ID card, a paycheck or paystub and a check or other document issued by a unit of government.
For those who do not possess employment, a State ID or a driver’s license, such as me, providing proof of residence can be difficult since the vast majority of these forms requires at least one of those three things.
As someone who is currently unemployed, I am unable to attain any form of proof of residence via employment papers or bills.
Likewise, a State ID card was not a viable option for me because, in order to obtain this form of identification, I needed to supply proof of residence, which was exactly what I lacked in the first place.
Similarly, because of personal matters, my schedule was too occupied for me to learn how to drive, thus rendering me unable to use a driver’s license as proof.
I must admit that I was annoyed; after all, the idea that anybody would experience this level of difficulty getting registered to vote, which is a fundamental right for all American citizens, seemed absurd. If my ordeal as a privileged student living in an affluent area like Mequon was this challenging, then I could only imagine how strenuous such a procedure would be for those living in places plagued with poverty, who possess far less means and opportunities than I do in obtaining the necessary documents.
But after several hours spent sifting through cluttered desks for viable residence forms, my parents and I finally discovered one acceptable option: a bank statement.
Opening up my living account at the bank, I gained my bank statement, an official document that fulfilled the criteria for proof of residence.
Once I assembled all of my documents, my parents drove me over to Mequon City Hall so that we could confirm that we didn’t perform any errors, and then we finally submitted all of my forms through the mail. Over the course of my life, I experienced few things more satisfying than slamming the mailbox flap shut and setting the flag high up into the air that day.
Finally, jittering with joy, I checked my registration status online, verifying that my voter status was active as well as discovering my polling place location.
Although the process to register was arduous and lengthy, involving me leaping through several bureaucratic hoops and juggling a series of forms, I can definitively state that, for me, the end result justified the annoyances of the journey.
Now, with my passport in one hand and my ballot in the other, I plan to head to the polls on April 6 to vote for the first time in both the local elections and the national presidential primaries.
Madina Jenks is a senior and a new copy editor for Highlander Publications. As a copy editor, her jobs are pretty simple: write and help others write....