Ronald Latney used to believe his vote didn’t matter. But after returning to jail this year, he realized the difference it can make — especially locally.
“I try to tell everybody … like, man, we need to vote, because our lives depend on this,” he said, mentioning district attorney races and bail policies. “That’s very impactful on me and what I’m going through now.”
It also helps him feel involved in the world, he said: “Sometimes we feel like we’re forgotten about, so to speak, except for our family. But this does definitely make me feel like I’m a part of something.”
Latney is able to vote with relative ease at a jail in San Bruno, where he’s serving time. But his experience isn’t all that common.
While California prides itself on making voting easier, some groups of voters still face barriers. That includes many people in county jails, though the state has allowed most to vote since 2016.
The latest data from the California Department of Corrections shows that about 92,000 people are in state prisons, and many are ineligible to vote because they’re serving a felony sentence. But in 2023, another 78,000 were in county jails, according to the Prison Policy Initiative, a Massachusetts-based nonpartisan research group, and about 60% of them have not been convicted of a crime, so are eligible to vote. Some previously convicted Californians are also eligible.
A disproportionate number of people in jails are Black or Latino, and sometimes wait years until they go to trial.
Most California jails don’t offer in-person voting, and voting by mail can be challenging. People might be registered at one address, but even if their mail is being forwarded to their jail, they get released or transferred elsewhere.
Advocates who have tried to help those jailed to vote list a host of hurdles that vary by county. Due to lengthy mail screening, some don’t get voter guides in time. Others don’t get voter guides at all, because people in jail can only receive mail under a certain page limit, or without staples.
Voter information is key to the process, advocates say — letting people know if they’re eligible, or how to register or vote. But advocates face their own barriers, such as limits on how often they can visit jails or how long they can stay.
The state does not track the number of incarcerated people who vote, but some counties have encouraged more participation: Since 2010, nearly 9,200 jail inmates have voted by mail or at in-jail booths in Los Angeles County.
Advocates want to build on that program through a bill introduced by Assemblymember Isaac Bryan that would start a pilot program for in-jail voting in three counties. The bill passed the Legislature in the session’s final days in late August, and awaits Gov. Gavin Newsom’s decision by Sept. 30.
While nearly all Republicans voted against it, the bill has no official opposition on file.
Topo Padilla, a board member of Crime Victims United, said that he did not understand the need for the Legislature to intervene. “I do not believe there’s a sheriff in the state of California that is saying lawful mail cannot be delivered to an inmate,” he said.
The bill, he said, shows him again that Democrats in California “focus more about taking care of people that have been convicted of crimes than they do about victims of crime.”
But for Latney, he believes his vote directly affects his ability to get out of jail — and stay out.
He arrived at the law library at the jail, in a visit last week arranged by the San Francisco Sheriff’s Office, with a red folder that held a write-up of his own experience with state laws, and a printed-out opinion piece from former prisoner Richard Richardson, whose voting experience resonated with Latney.
“I can honestly say that I made my mistake .. I’m paying my debt to society, and I’m just ready for this to be over with,” he said. “I know that voting can make things like this possible and can help better my circumstances, and later on in life.”
The jail upon a hill
Melinda Benson, director of Prisoner Legal Services for the San Francisco Sheriff’s Office, said every eligible person incarcerated in California should have a “meaningful” opportunity to vote.
“I say meaningful, because it’s not meaningful in a lot of counties. It might be just that they make an announcement that you can reach out to the Department of Elections,” she said. “The rule is that the Department of Elections has to make that opportunity available, but that’s it. That’s really the only guidance.”
Benson’s staff of three provides legal services, and also goes cell-by-cell to talk through each person’s eligibility and steps to register. A big push at the San Francisco County Jail involves convincing those incarcerated that they really can vote.
“I’m a lawyer, and I’m telling them, ‘No, you’re absolutely legally eligible to vote.’ They don’t believe me,” Benson said. “And then when they have the opportunity to do it, it’s pretty moving.”
The Sheriff’s Office began its voting outreach program in 2003, based on interest in San Francisco’s mayoral race, and worked with the elections office to ensure anyone eligible could fill out absentee ballot forms.
Since then, the state has gradually expanded eligibility, such as to those on parole. And a 2021 state law which ensures that a mail ballot is sent to everyone registered made the process much easier for Benson’s department.
Data from four elections in San Francisco from February 2022 to March 2024 show that a third to half of jailed people who requested voter information went on to cast ballots.
Thomas Neal, 45, who is also incarcerated at its San Bruno jail, said voting has always been important to him. He sees it as his civic duty. His experience in San Francisco County jail has been better than in other counties, where he said he had to petition for voting resources to be made available.
“I shouldn’t have to argue about wanting to vote. It’s my right to vote,” he said.
Outside groups find workarounds
A big advantage for the San Francisco program is that the team is in-house. Elsewhere, outside advocacy groups have to go through a myriad of workarounds.
Spread the Vote tries to set up relationships with someone inside the jail — a priest, rabbi or a counselor — who can be a point of contact to answer voting questions. The group aims to boost voter participation by eliminating barriers such as not having an ID card.
Kat Calvin, executive director of Spread the Vote, said that it takes more than just providing pamphlets to empower those incarcerated to vote.
“We’ve tried to work with California jails, and we’re always told, ‘Oh, we’ve got it. We’re so great.’ But then I’ve gotten letters from people who are incarcerated in California jails saying, ‘I’m trying to vote, but they won’t give me a pen. They’ll only give me a pencil,’” she said. “It’s those little things that make it impossible.”
Spread the Vote works in 20 states, and creates voting guides geared to those in jail, sent early enough to avoid mail processing delays. Depending on local rules, they might also set up ballot collection boxes in jail.
The VOICE program in the Alameda County public defender’s office has registered nearly 1,800 people since 2016, mostly at the Santa Rita Jail in Dublin. It shows prospective voters how to look at downloaded guides for statewide initiatives on their tablets to get around the limits on stapled guides.
Not all advocacy groups find success.
In San Diego, for example, the sheriff’s department denied access to Pillars of the Community, so the advocacy group partnered with the League of Women Voters, which already worked with the jail.
The San Diego Sheriff’s Department said it works closely with the Registrar of Voters and the League of Women Voters to ensure access to voter registration and participation. In the case of the Pillars group, a sheriff’s spokesperson said some volunteers did not get security clearance, or didn’t submit requests early enough.
Some volunteers have criminal records, which could prevent them from getting clearance, said Brittany Stonesifer, a voting rights attorney with the American Civil Liberties Union of Northern California.
Are there solutions in sight?
For Bryan, a Democratic lawmaker from Culver City, the only way to address inconsistent mail voting in county jails — sometimes due to a lack of technical assistance or staff — is to allow voting inside.
That’s why he introduced Assembly Bill 544, which requires the Secretary of State to provide grants to the elections offices in San Benito, Santa Cruz and San Mateo counties to set up in-person voting in jails — when the Legislature allocates funding, which might be an uphill battle given the state’s budget crunch.
“It increases public safety, it increases civic awareness, and it produces the best kind of electoral outcomes — where all eligible voters are able to be heard in our democracy,” Bryan said.
If Newsom signs the bill, the pilot programs would be for elections in 2026 through 2028.
The proposal is based on the success of the Los Angeles County “We All Count” campaign, which set up in-person voting for the March 2020 presidential primary at the Century Regional Detention Facility. More than 90 people cast ballots, but the COVID pandemic suspended the effort. In 2022, the county expanded to a second jail and 40 people cast ballots between the two facilities.
Benson, of San Francisco Prisoner Legal Services, said any state mandate would be helpful, in case future sheriffs aren’t as supportive of voting access. “If there is a law in place, that will be followed, and if there are resources behind it — you know, now we’re talking,” she said. “So you’ve got to not just say that. It has to have some teeth.”
There are other ways the state could help short of in-jail voting.
Ucedrah Osby, president of the Bakersfield chapter of All of Us or None, an advocacy group for the incarcerated, said the state could spend more on voter education. And jails could allow outside groups more access, since voting information can have more impact coming from those with connections to the incarcerated.
Thanh Tran, an advocate who served two-and-a-half years of his 10-year sentence in jail, agreed. He said he was focused mostly on surviving each day, and it didn’t even cross his mind that he was still eligible to vote when he was shackled and belly-chained just to walk down the hallway.
Tran, whose sentence was commuted by Newsom in 2022, said he spent many days in solitary confinement, where he read the news and books on politics. After his release, he worked as a fellow at the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights, where he helped advocate for Bryan’s bill.
“If I knew that I could participate in voting, I would have done it. But the thing is that I wasn’t offered it. I didn’t know it was a thing,” he said. “There were many, many barriers stopping me from even conceiving the thought of voting during my incarceration.”
