Why does queering the vote matter now more than ever?
Let's face it, we are tired. The exhaustion is about more than just receiving messages about how our votes matter despite the overwhelming and seemingly insurmountable tactics to suppress our votes and destroy an equitable system of elections.
It's the feelings of disillusionment that come with the knowledge that if you are Black, brown, formerly incarcerated, disabled, and/or identify as LGBTQ+, a vote isn't going to save you or your community. That if you are undocumented, you don't have access to the vote. It's the long and drawn-out tiredness at the ongoing and constant targeting of our rights and our bodies in a struggle for bodily autonomy and civil rights that has us increasingly exhausted. Because it feels like the other side is winning.
So what can we do, especially if voting is only part of the answer?
Earlier this year, with the overturning of Roe v. Wade,we knew that it would just be a matter of time before other civil liberties would be threatened. With a conservative-leaning Supreme Court already indicating potential attacks on marriage equality, lawmakers shifted their strategy to preserve some of these civil liberties by constructing legislation. Fights on the federal level to ban discrimination based on gender and sexual orientation and preserve marriage equality were just a few of the big-ticket bills failing to pass. The Respect for Marriage Act stalled ahead of the midterm election, and the Equality Act continues to languish.
The rise of anti-LGBTQ+ words and actions has only increased in states such as Texas, West Virginia, Ohio, and of course Florida, where legislation known as "don't say gay" restricts the teaching LGBTQ+ history and inclusive conversations about sexuality. Florida has also passed the Stop Woke Act, which prohibits incorporating a race equity approach to teaching history, framing critical race analysis within U.S. history as "shaming for white students." We know that the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit has left the future of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals Act up in the air, putting 1.7 million people at risk, including 81,000 who identify as LGBTQ+.
And last week's announcement from the Biden administration pardoning people with marijuana charges was more symbolic than an effective strategy to rectify decades of racial profiling or find justice for undocumented people affected by marijuana charges and displacement of community members of color for marijuana possession. It is state law that really impacts marijuana charges, not federal.
Let's take a moment to consider Florida and its landscape as a microcosm of the macrocosm for our political future. The recent impact of Hurricane Ian further highlights infrastructure issues within the state that put the poor and communities of color at risk, often time zoning them within flood area and not investing in the proper infrastructure to protect them. After Hurricane Katrina, city planners and governments elsewhere finally started to pay attention to the impact of global climate changes on development.
Elected officials in Florida have declared that they will not delay voting despite the natural disaster and will push forward with a plan to create "super polling centers," contrary to state law.
Only a few mainstream media outlets superficially covered the disparity on the ground as Gov. Ron DeSantis disrupted relief efforts for a photo op, and even then have only scratched the surface of the impact and underlying issues.
U.S. Sen. Marco Rubio of Florida was nowhere to be found when it came to on-the-ground responses, and the state's other U.S. senator, Rick Scott, voted against relief packages aimed at alleviating the effects of the hurricane on Floridians.
It is through the efforts of organizations such as FLIC Votes, Florida Rising, Qlatinx, and Hope Community Center, along with activists using their social media platforms to share just how racist, anti-LGBTQ+, ageist, and anti-disability these efforts are, how this is all connected, as all the while political figures try to position themselves as "champions" during this crisis.
Progressive activists are tired of the lack of intersectional analysis from mainstream media, other advocacy groups, and of course elected officials and government institutions. The ongoing inability to see and make connections to these political movements as opposed to the siloed way they are treated now is in fact a coordinated effort on behalf of the Republican Party to attack our bodily autonomy and reverse decades of political and cultural gains that have been fought for over generations. The outcomes of such draconian laws and political moves continue to place a disproportionate burden on communities at the intersections for race, gender, sexual orientation, socio-economic standing, citizenship, disability, and neurodivergence.
So let's woosah for a moment and honor our feelings about this current political situation -- let's sit with how the aforementioned information is physically and emotionally laborious and not just gloss over what these struggles mean for our communities on a path to fighting for our autonomy. Let's relish the fact that the queer vote is becoming the fastest-growing voter bloc, according to the Human Rughts Campaign, that a generation of queer youth will be entering voting age and they have been paying attention to what has been happening across our country over the last six years. That our community is building the power to represent one-fifth of votes in our country and this is an invigorating moment for our movements! The power of a queer voting bloc will have an impact on local, state, and federal races, not just amping up our power at the polls but highlighting the real need for politicians to move with integrity on the issues that affect our community.
But let's also continue to advocate, educate, collaborate, and agitate to make those connections. The root cause of the regressive and discriminatory politics, policies, and prejudice we are fighting is the fear of what is happening in our culture -- increasingly diverse demographics and better understanding of and more nuanced discussion of how we all hold different identities. We cannot and will not silo them, so why should we expect any less of anyone else?
Rae Leiner is field director for the National LGBTQ Task Force.
Views expressed in The Advocate's opinion articles are those of the writers and do not necessarily represent the views of The Advocate or our parent company, Equal Pride.