One vote for me, many votes for Mainekind
Nicholas A. Giudice, Ph.D.
By many accounts, Maine leads the country in voting rights: it has allowed some form of voting by absentee ballot for decades, is one of only two states allowing people with felony convictions to vote (including those still in prison), was the first state allowing ranked-choice voting in both state and federal elections, and consistently boasts some of the highest statewide voter turnout in the nation. However, despite this progressive voting record, until recently many Mainers still had difficulty (or were completely unable) to vote independently because the paper-based absentee ballot system was inaccessible to people with visual impairment(s). This lack of voting access is particularly problematic in Maine as we are a rural state with limited public transportation and have an aging population, many of whom experience vision loss and associated driving challenges. In 2020, I joined a cohort of passionate Mainers with visual impairments who were fed up with this situation and our collective efforts ultimately changed the trajectory of Maine’s voting landscape.
I have never been a politically driven person. I have gone to a few rallies and protests over the years but my idea of making a difference in the public square has been more at the level of griping about irksome ordinances or complaining about politicians during a pub crawl than involvement in local government or trying to impact policy or legislative change. Perhaps that is my privilege showing but the reality is that my formal service and civic participation has been limited to symbolic positions. I can’t pass the straight-face test in claiming that being vice president of my 7th grade class, a stint on student council in college, or participation on a range of diversity, equity, and inclusion committees at the university has really led to any appreciable or lasting change. As a scientist, the excuse that I have always ‘sold’ to myself is that I can make a bigger societal contribution by talking about how the results of my research can make a positive difference in people’s lives as opposed to actually trying to directly impact these people through civic or social action.
In late June of 2020, a friend called and asked if I wanted to be a plaintiff in a legal action against the State of Maine regarding accessible voting. I am of the mind that we are a far too litigious society and am not interested in being part of what I see as a sue-first, ask-later climate, so I initially demurred. However, as I looked into the issue, I started feeling frustrated about the situation. Our governor, Janet Mills, provided guidance to Maine citizens in Spring 2020 that to be safe, owing to pandemic health concerns, all registered Mainers were urged to vote from home by absentee ballot in the state primary election (held July 14) and in the national election (held November 3). At this point, COVID-19 cases (and hospitalizations) were spiking, and I had little interest in taking public transit to my local polling place where lots of people aggregated and where I would ultimately end up in a small voting booth with an accessible machine that I would need to explore through physical contact to use. In a previous election, a similar machine didn’t detect my headphones, so was rendered unusable without assistance from a voting official, which negates the whole purpose of independent voting. Even if I assumed correct operation, an unknown number of other people would have inevitably also groped around the machine to use it and who knows the extent or providence of their dirty hands! Each step of this in-person, accessible voting process sounded like the exact parameters we were being told to avoid for pandemic health reasons.
Armed with the realization that I had no interest in engaging in this in-person voting process, I contacted my city clerk to find out about my absentee voting options. They were friendly and helpful but at the end of the day told me that my only viable solution was to be sent a paper-based absentee ballot for me to fill out and send back. When I informed them that I was blind and that I could neither read, nor fill out a paper ballot on my own, they told me that I could certainly have somebody help me mark my selections. Upon ‘reminding’ them that one of the core constitutional rights of our country (and one that I fervently believe in) is the guaranty of the right of casting a secret, independent vote, they suggested that I use the in-person accessible voting machines at my local polling venue. After a bit more back and forth, it became clear that there was no accessible solution for me to independently vote if I wanted to follow the governor’s guidance and prioritize my health by voting absentee.
As a result, I called my friend back to say I wanted to join her in advocating for accessibility voting rights in Maine. Four of us (all having some form of visual impairment) ultimately enlisted the services of Disability Rights Maine to take our case. We also wrote letters to our city clerks and then-Secretary of State Matt Dunlap to clarify the situation. We were told (1) that our idea of using electronic absentee ballots was absolutely not possible and (2) that we should get third-party assistance filling out paper ballots if we wanted to vote absentee. Most frustrating of all, Maine already had electronic absentee voting for our remotely deployed military personnel, meaning that the core system that we were arguing for was already in place.
In mid-July 2020 we lodged our complaint in the United States District Court for Maine. In Merrill v. Dunlap, Lynn Merrill, Pauline Lamontagne, Cheryl Peabody, and myself argued (as the plaintiffs in civil action no. 1:20-cv-00248) for the right to vote privately and independently by electronic absentee ballot in the November 3, 2020, election and in future elections in the State of Maine. The lawsuit, led by Kristen Aiello and Disability Rights Maine, was based on the premise that we should not have to risk our health, privacy, or independence to vote in the same way that is available to other Mainers and that was the explicit guidance of our governor as the preferred and advised method of doing so. Being part of this process helped me to realize that this action was not just a fight for my right to vote, it impacted many other people with print-limiting disabilities that make using a paper-based form impractical or impossible. Maine has the oldest median population in the nation and 80-year-old eyes are not the same as 20-year-old eyes, whether you have a visual disability or not. There are tens of thousands of people in the state with some form of print disability, which includes those with vision impairment, physical and motor limitations, learning disabilities, or various cognitive impairments that prevent a person from independently accessing or filling out a paper ballot. Most of these people want to vote and could also benefit from the accessible absentee ballot system that we were advocating for. This system would provide access to an online portal for any print-limited registered voter in Maine, allowing them to electronically request, read/fill out, and return an absentee ballot. Once implemented, a much larger group of people than just visually impaired individuals would now be able to privately and independently vote from home using their existing assistive technologies, such as digital magnifiers and screen readers (the text-to-speech software that blind folks use to access digital print content).
What became obvious from the first hearing in federal court is that the State was not going to fight us on the matter and did actually want to provide a mechanism for accessible absentee voting through the use of electronic ballots, similar to what was already available to state residents deployed in the military. For the process to work however, there would need to be updates made to the electronic PDF ballot, which was not then accessible, meaning that it would not read correctly with a screen reader. At this point, the Secretary of State’s Office touted this tentative agreement as a win for Maine’s citizens and something that was absolutely a worthy cause. While this was a 180-degree reversal of their previous stance, and it is frustrating that it took a lawsuit to make it happen, the net result is what counts.
In the following six weeks, we (the plaintiffs and a group of volunteer blind beta testers throughout the state) worked closely with the State’s vendor who was handling the electronic election content to help them make the ballots work with speech. Given that we are one of two states in the union with ranked-choice voting and there are lots of individual municipalities, this process was not as straightforward as one might think. However, on Oct 2, 2020, Maine became one of only a few states that had developed a fully accessible electronic absentee ballot voting mechanism that is available to all people with a print disability that limits their use of a traditional paper ballot.
An unexpected but positive result of our lawsuit was that the State now needed a new mechanism to monitor the status of electronic absentee ballots being submitted. This led to development and deployment of a new state-wide absentee ballot tracking service for the 2020 Election (and beyond) that ultimately benefitted all Maine voters. With this system, anybody who requests an absentee ballot, paper or electronic, can use the online portal to track its status throughout the entire process from request to knowing whether it was accepted or rejected. This tracking system represents an important step in improving election transparency, which I hope will increase public perception (and confidence) in the integrity of the absentee voting process.
The electronic tracking system has now been used by thousands of Maine voters who had no idea of our fight for accessible electronic absentee ballots but who benefitted from our actions. I understand that this is what happens when people get involved in causes that can make large-scale social and political change, but it was my first experience in this arena. And, while I still find the need for litigation frustrating when implementing a simple solution that was (1) already essentially in place, (2) took so few resources to make accessible as an accommodation, and (3) makes such a huge difference in advancing a core constitutional right of our country, I am proud of my role in this success.
Almost immediately after independently voting absentee for the first time in October 2020, I started receiving emails from other people around the state, many of whom were complete strangers, thanking me for my efforts as part of this case and in allowing them to exercise their constitutional right to vote independently and privately by electronic absentee ballot. This was a very different type of impact from what I am accustomed to doing through my scientific research and in many ways, the result was far more satisfying as it so directly impacted a broad swath of people on an issue of critical importance. While I don’t think this experience is apt to result in me chaining myself to trees in Deering Oaks Park or gluing myself to the doors of Portland’s city hall to support the causes I believe in, it certainly has made me realize the value of taking action, being involved, and using legal and political resources to effect change and greater good.
