‘I voted’ has special meaning for these Americans

For the first time, Corey Oden voted on Election Day.
For all of his adult life, Oden, 41, of Birmingham, Alabama, said he either was repeatedly told by probation officers and state officials he couldn’t cast a ballot or was unaware he could vote after his felony conviction for check fraud 24 years ago.
He served a year of house arrest for “my mistake” and incrementally paid restitution fees associated with his crime. In August, Oden learned he was eligible to vote, after a local nonprofit connected him to Free Our Vote, which helps restore voting rights to felons.  
Free Our Vote paid the nearly $500 he still owed in restitution, leaving him no longer “needing to hide, feel ashamed, or be embarrassed,” Oden told USA TODAY. He was excited to get his own “I Voted” sticker, instead of wearing his friends’ during election season. 
“I had simply given up hope. I never thought this would be possible,” a tearful Oden said last week, envisioning filling out his ballot. “I know my hands are going to be shaking and I’m going to be an emotional wreck.”
Sign-up for Your Vote: Text with the USA TODAY elections team.
Forty-eight states have laws restricting the voting rights of people with felony convictions, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures. As a result, more than 4 million Americans, about 2% of the voting-age population, remain ineligible to vote even after completing their prison terms, said the Sentencing Project, a nonprofit focusing on decarceration, citing 2022 statistics.
For many, the lingering obstacle to a restored right to vote is a fine, fee or restitution payment.
Free Our Vote, a Washington, D.C.-based nonpartisan, tech nonprofit works with other nonprofits to pay off those dues and get felons on the voting rolls.
“These obstacles just didn’t make sense,” said Free Our Vote founder Neel Sukhatme, a lawyer, and law professor at Georgetown University. “We felt like we could help these people who served their time, tried to pay their debts socially and financially, and deserved to vote.”
Free Our Vote hopes to restore voting rights to more than 400,000 people in this year’s election mostly in the south and southwest, and expand to nine more states in 2025.
The organization is funded in part with $265,000 from Fast Forward, a San Francisco-based tech nonprofit that helps early-stage nonprofits with funding, access to donors, and mentoring.
“The right to vote is core to who we are as Americans, it feels only fair that when they have completed what’s needed to reenter, they should be given every opportunity to do so,” Fast Forward co-founder Shannon Farley told USA TODAY. “Fighting for democracy is hard and it takes all of us.”
The last time Virginia Mireles was eligible to vote was when President Bill Clinton ran for reelection in 1996.
Mireles, 53, a mother of three adult children, has had a rough life. Eight convictions for non-violent crimes including multiple burglary offenses, culminated in 17 years in prison while battling addictions to drugs. 
She went to rehab seven different times, hoping she could stop. After her last conviction in 2013, she vowed to get her life together. She has been clean for 11 years while trying to help her youngest daughter with her own addiction and her oldest son who has been clean for the past two years. She raises her son’s young daughter.
Mireles, who worked her way up to a call center supervisor for Televerde, after getting a job with them during her last prison stint, voted in her state primary in late July. 
“I think I just started crying and laughing,” she said, remembering the moment. “I feel like I’m trying to participate in the solution. Like I’m not in the background.”
Mireles now volunteers with the Arizona Justice Project to help other felons see if they can vote. She encourages them to email or go to the courts to see if they are eligible to seek absolute discharge for their prison sentence, restore their civil rights, and reduce or forgive any fines.
She voted for Kamala Harris for president, hoping that her granddaughter will have full reproductive rights. 
“I want to make sure she has all of the choices she needs to have and I want to set a good example for her,” Mireles said. “This country is so divisive. We don’t have to be so ugly to each other. I’m trying to find a solution. I’m trying to help.” 
Last year, Oden, a program coordinator at TAKE Resource Center, which focuses on Trans community advocacy, met Dori Miles, co-founder of the Birmingham-based Return My Vote, which helps felons regain their voting rights.
Miles innocently asked Oden if he was registered to vote and Oden sheepishly told her about his situation. Miles, a lawyer who also works with the LGBTQ community, thought she could help Oden. She looked at a state database and saw he was eligible to get his rights restored.
“The disenfranchised rate in Alabama is about 13% and the majority are Black and Corey fell in that category,” Miles said. “I really didn’t know how much that voting meant to him until we had that first conversation.” 
Wearing a powder blue suit and a blue and orange-patterned tie that will “pop” against his white dress shirt, Oden voted early on Election Day. He wanted to serve as a role model for his two adult nephews, who were also voting for the first time and to leave time to drive others to the polls as well.
Later Tuesday, he called the experience “liberating.”
“Oddly enough, it makes me feel whole,” said Oden who voted for Harris. “And when I put that sticker on my chest, I feel more like a contributing member of society and my late mother’s prayers are answered. That’s what I feel like.”
(This story was updated to correct a typo.)