Arkansas Ethics
Wanting to witness democracy in action, I found myself at the county clerk’s office on November 12, when provisional ballots—those ballots submitted by voters whose voter registration status couldn’t be adequately determined at the polls—were taken out of locked boxes and sorted into those that count, and those that don’t.
I didn’t stay for the entire process. I’d been standing in the office for 40 minutes (no chairs for observers) before the first ballot was considered, and I was tired. But fortunately, that first ballot was the one I’d come to learn about.
It was the provisional ballot cast by my friend, an ex-felon who paid his debt to society long ago, had his voting rights restored thereafter, and voted regularly until the spring of 2023. That’s when he got a disturbing letter from the county clerk’s office: “We have received word that your voter registration must be canceled because you have been convicted of a felony. You will need to contact the Circuit Court in the county of your conviction to receive the paperwork to restore your voting rights…”
It was a long battle, involving conversations with lawyers and government officials, but just before the 2024 election, my friend’s voting rights were restored. Still, when he showed up at the polls with his newly minted voter registration card, his name was not on the roll—hence the provisional status of his ballot. But on November 12, in the county clerk’s office, it was determined that his vote counts. And his name will reportedly appear on the roll hereafter.
I’m proud of my friend for fighting to get his vote back. And happy that he succeeded. But now I’m left wondering about all the other people whose voting rights were rescinded—some of whom might not have the wherewithal to recover those rights. While in the county clerk’s office, we got to see—from afar—a file folder of notices to felons. My friend guessed, aloud, the folder’s contents must represent about 50 people. The clerk nodded in apparent agreement.
And that was just one (rural) county clerk’s office. Arkansas has 75 counties.
The county clerks who sent these notices were acting on orders from the Secretary of State’s office. My friend tried to call John Thurston, our secretary of state, to ask questions about this purging process—but could never make contact.
He did, however, speak with state Senator Bryan King—who apparently didn’t believe him. Who suggested death or repeated failure to vote as a more likely reason for a name to be removed from the voter roll. I assure you my friend is alive—and he votes when they let him.
The Secretary of State website says, “John’s vision for the future is that the Secretary of State along with Arkansas government will lead the nation in the area of ethics and accountability.” But I wonder. Is it ethical to disenfranchise a large swath of ex-felons whose voting rights had been restored?
My friend has an acquaintance who was convicted of a similar felony—but whose voting rights were not disturbed in the recent purge. The only real difference the two can determine between them is political party. But that can’t be it, can it? Not if Arkansas wants to lead the nation in ethics.
If you’re a disenfranchised ex-felon, or if you’re just a concerned patriot who wants all eligible citizens to vote without hindrance, consider contacting your Arkansas state officials to let them know how you feel:
Secretary of State, John Thurston (501) 682-3409
Senator Bryan King (501) 682-5452
I hope your calls get through. And I hope they believe you.