Uncertain gains
Cambridge wants to let more people vote, and it could transform local politics.
But giving more people the right to vote doesn't mean they'll use it.
by Kristen Lombardi
For all the talk during the presidential campaign about fixing Social Security
and revamping Medicare, the reform that's likely to receive real attention
after our new president assumes office could turn out to be something that no
one discussed: overhauling the way we vote.
Leave it to Cambridge to be ahead of the curve.
Expanding the franchise
Both are voting-reform measures, but the two Cambridge initiatives that would
allow more people to vote couldn't be more distinct. They are the products of
separate, community-based coalitions -- the Campaign for Immigrant Voting
Rights and the Campaign for a Democratic Future. Proponents of one measure
don't necessarily back the other, and they don't seem eager to be lumped
together.
The Campaign for Immigrant Voting Rights says it's trying to increase parental
involvement in the city's public-school system by letting noncitizen immigrants
vote in school-committee elections. Because of the time it often takes to gain
citizenship, immigrant parents of Cambridge students can be left with no formal
say in how their children are being educated -- despite the fact that they pay
taxes. (The measure's been approved by the Cambridge City Council and must now
be okayed by the state legislature through a home-rule petition.)
Supporters of the initiative to let 16- and 17-year-olds vote, meanwhile, say
that youths have no incentive to care about municipal affairs because they lack
political representation. Allowing teens to vote would not only connect them to
Cambridge, but also get them in the habit of voting -- and such habits start
young. (The measure, expected to come up for a council vote in January, will
also need approval from the state legislature.)
Both measures will be tough to enact. The biggest question may be whether state
legislators will let one city elect local politicians differently than the rest
of the state. In addition, critics claim that allowing noncitizens to vote
would discourage immigrants from becoming US citizens, since the franchise is a
defining right of naturalization. Opponents of a lower voting age maintain that
16- and 17-year-olds are too immature to cast ballots -- though proponents
point out that 16-year-olds can drive, have sex, and drop out of school, and
teens as young as 14 can be sentenced to life in prison.
Some say that both measures face insuperable legal obstacles: the first may
violate the US Constitution, and the second may violate the state constitution.
Proponents, however, contend that the US Constitution does not specify voting
requirements for local elections. Municipalities, they say, have the
sole power to determine who should participate. They also note that New York
City has let noncitizens vote in municipal elections since 1968.
The constitutionality of permitting those under 18 to vote may be more
questionable. The state constitution says that you must be 18 years old to vote
in Massachusetts elections. Says Brian McNiff, a spokesperson for Secretary of
State Bill Galvin, "Municipal elections should have the same requirements."
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Long before anyone had even heard the phrase "pregnant chad," the city
affectionately known as the People's Republic had tackled the question of
election reform. Though the Cambridge City Council isn't looking to update the
technical means by which people vote, it is examining how it can broaden the
base of those eligible to participate. And if it's successful, the city could
transform the way local politicians campaign for office.
Right now, two voting-related initiatives are on the table that would introduce
thousands of new voters into the city's political landscape (see "Expanding the
Franchise," page 28). The first, which councilors approved last month, would
allow immigrants who are not citizens but are residents of Cambridge to cast
ballots in school-committee elections. The second, which the council is
debating, would lower the voting age in municipal elections to 16. The council
may vote on this motion as early as January; most observers say it will pass,
although some expect the council to lower the voting age to 17 instead. Before
either initiative can take effect, however, it must be approved by the state
legislature. The first has already been forwarded to Beacon Hill as a home-rule
petition.
It goes without saying that both measures are long shots -- long, long shots.
As one Boston observer predicts, "People are going to look at these and say,
`Crazy, crazy Cambridge, always pushing the envelope.' They won't stand the
challenge of making it through the legislature. Trust me."
No other Massachusetts city has granted voting rights to noncitizens or
teenagers. Amherst has tried to give noncitizens who are permanent residents
the right to vote by passing a measure similar to the one approved in
Cambridge, but the town's home-rule petition has languished at the State House
since April 1999. Still, this doesn't mean the Cambridge efforts are futile.
Similar initiatives have been put in place elsewhere in the country. New York
City, for instance, awarded immigrant parents of schoolchildren the right to
vote and the right to run for school board back in 1968. (In fact, the
Amherst petition was spearheaded by Vladimir Morales, a former New York City
resident and school-board member who, upon moving to Amherst, was surprised to
learn that immigrant parents could not participate in municipal elections.)
Other cities, including Takoma Park, Maryland, and Chicago, have also granted
noncitizens the franchise. Proponents say these reforms have played a vital
role in bridging racial, cultural, and economic disparities within their
public-school systems.
Jamin Raskin, an American University professor who drafted the Takoma Park
measure, says that it has led to "greater voter turnout overall." Though
noncitizens aren't necessarily voting at higher rates than US citizens, a
growing number of them have made their presence known by organizing and getting
involved in campaigns.
Even Cambridge, where local elections are often intense, has struggled to boost
turnout in municipal contests above 40 percent. And just 65 percent of 70,000
eligible voters are registered to vote in Cambridge, as compared to 71 percent
statewide and 70 percent nationwide. The city's figures are in line with those
of Boston, where 62 percent of eligible voters are registered. Less than half
of those registered to vote in Cambridge, however, bother to do so. In the five
local elections held between 1989 and 1997, the number of residents who cast
ballots dropped by roughly 10,000, from 27,593 to 17,229.
But the latest measures, if they pass, could add thousands of new voters to the
sagging election rolls. According to the city's 1990 census figures, about 1500
16- and 17-year-olds live in Cambridge. Statistics from the city's
community-development department show 13,000 immigrants who have yet to become
citizens, and some activists estimate the number to be closer to 20,000. If
they were all granted the right to vote in Cambridge elections, it would raise
the number of eligible voters by 20 percent -- as much as 30 percent if you put
the number of eligible noncitizen residents at 20,000.
But will they vote? "Just because you give new groups of people the opportunity
to participate doesn't mean they will," says Democratic political consultant
Michael Goldman. And it's hard to overlook the fact that the two constituencies
Cambridge may enfranchise -- immigrants and young people -- have low voter
turnout to begin with.
Malden, for example, has a sizable Asian community -- it's practically doubled
in the past decade, from five percent to 10 percent of the general population
-- but not one locally elected Asian politician. Community activists say that
the city's Asian population has yet to think of itself as an influential voting
bloc. "Some Asian residents do vote," explains Mohammed Zhani of Voices in
Action, a Malden-based immigrant-advocacy group, "but they haven't talked
political power yet." In Chelsea, meanwhile, the Latino community has
grown so large that it could dictate municipal elections, if only Latino
residents who could vote did so.
And consider that only 32 percent of 18- to 24-year-olds cast ballots during
the 1996 presidential election, as compared to 49 percent of eligible voters
overall. "There's no reason to think 16- and 17-year-olds would behave
differently than their 18-year-old counterparts," says Goldman. In other words,
there's no guarantee that an expanded voter base will lead to an
engaged voter base.
"In local elections," Goldman concludes, "you don't get a city council or
school committee that reflects values of residents; you get [elected bodies]
that reflect values of residents who vote."
That said, there's little doubt that new voters can play a dramatic and even a
determining role in local elections. For some candidates, in fact, reaching out
to the political novice has made all the difference. Boston city councilor
Michael Ross, who defeated the politically connected Suzanne Iannella in a
close race last year, attributes his 400-vote margin of victory to students
living in Boston. "There were so many potential voters," explains Jeff Bellows,
who headed Ross's 1999 campaign, "we knew we had to get out and engage them."
Ross worked particularly hard for the Boston University constituency, pressing
the flesh at campus events and registering students to vote. His efforts paid
off phenomenally: as many as 400 students flooded polling precincts that
historically had drawn as few as 10. "It wouldn't have been possible for Mike
to win without this voting base," Bellows says.
Somerville mayor Dorothy Kelly Gay used a similar tactic in her hard-fought
battle against former alderman John Buonomo (who was just elected the Middlesex
Register of Probate). During her 1999 campaign, Kelly Gay and manager Sean
Fitzgerald, now the mayor's spokesperson, opted to go after the city's new
residents, many of whom had voted sporadically or not at all. Fitzgerald
scoured the Somerville voting rolls for names and addresses of newly registered
voters. He found about 500 of them and then, in his words, "carpet bombed"
their homes with direct mail and telephone calls. The candidate later sealed
their support with personal visits. Kelly Gay ended up beating her opponent by
a mere 397 votes -- a margin that Fitzgerald credits to the new voters.
"The strategy was instrumental," he says. "Without reaching out to new voters,
we certainly wouldn't have won."
State Representative Jarrett Barrios (D-Cambridge) has gone to great lengths to
woo new voters as well. Before he even made his 1998 run, Barrios could be
found traveling door-to-door in the Hispanic areas around Columbia Avenue,
registering new voters and showing them how to fill out a ballot. He gave
Harvard University students similar red-carpet treatment -- and they, in turn,
rewarded him. During the 1998 primary elections, turnout among Harvard
undergraduates shot up to 70 percent of registered voters, compared with a mere
30 percent in the 1996 primary elections. The statistic is all the more
remarkable because 1996 was a presidential-election year -- which typically
boosts turnout across all age groups.
All this goes to show that any group of voters, if mobilized, can become an
influential bloc in local elections. And the two voting groups in question
could transform the way campaigns are run in Cambridge. If noncitizens could
vote, for example, school-committee candidates would undoubtedly be forced to
knock on the doors of families that have just arrived from El Salvador, Haiti,
and India -- doors that politicians have never had to knock on before.
Meanwhile, a teen voting bloc might prompt city councilors to campaign at the
overlooked high-school gym. Bilingual-education or youth programs could turn
into hot political debates.
Even if the Cambridge efforts don't lead to hordes of new, active voters, they
will change the city's public discourse. Says Janice Lee, an adviser for the
teen-vote measure: "Right now, we see small groups of hyper-informed citizens
involved in the political process. Local elections would look very different if
we could count on fresh voices to introduce fresh ideas."
It might seem politically naive for Cambridge to push for a more inclusive
electoral system. Yet not long ago, proponents say, no one imagined that
politicians would discuss the failures of the Electoral College, and that
pundits would clamor for reform. So if there were ever an opportune time for
these initiatives, this is it.
"As Cambridge goes, the rest don't necessarily follow," acknowledges Cambridge
city councilor Jim Braude. "But in these Floridian-esque times, nothing
resonates more than the notion that every vote counts. . . . Cambridge couldn't
have chosen a better time to talk seriously about who gets to vote."
Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com.