Somewhere between the waving flags and the celebratory “I Voted” selfies, we like to pretend that the fight for voting rights is something we’ve already won. We picture black-and-white footage of marches in Selma, speeches by civil rights leaders, and think the battle was wrapped up decades ago in a neat little legislative bow called the Voting Rights Act of 1965. But in 2025, voting rights aren’t a legacy—they’re a battlefield. And if you’re not paying attention, you might not notice just how many landmines are being laid right now.
This year, we’ve seen states passing new laws that, while cloaked in neutral language, disproportionately affect the elderly, working-class voters, college students, and communities of color. Same-day registration? Gone in some states. Absentee ballots? Subject to new hoops. Voting locations? Quietly removed or relocated away from public transit and densely populated areas. Gerrymandering has gone high-tech, and voter roll purges are disguised as “routine maintenance.”
Here’s the kicker: all of this is happening while major news outlets continue feeding us election drama, candidate gaffes, and Trump soundbites like they’re the main event. But the real story isn’t what’s happening onstage—it’s what’s happening at the polls, behind the curtain. The rules are being rewritten in real time, and most of us are too busy doomscrolling to notice.
Let’s look at the facts. As of June 2025, over 18 states have passed or proposed new voting laws that restrict access in ways that disproportionately affect marginalized groups. Some require multiple forms of ID, others reduce early voting periods, and a few states have limited drop box locations to absurd degrees (one per county in some cases—yes, even in counties the size of Connecticut). And what’s being done at the federal level to protect access? Not much. The John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act still hasn’t passed the Senate, because bipartisanship is about as dead as Blockbuster Video.
Now, some people argue that these laws are about “election integrity.” That’s the buzzword, right? But let’s call it what it really is: voter suppression wrapped in red, white, and blue ribbon. The data doesn’t lie—voter fraud remains statistically insignificant. You’re more likely to be struck by lightning while being audited than to catch someone casting two ballots. Yet the narrative persists, and it’s a powerful tool for those in power who know that fewer voters usually means more predictable outcomes.
And it’s not just about suppressing the vote—it’s about shaping who gets to participate in democracy. Many of these laws target groups that traditionally vote blue, but the issue isn’t just partisan. It’s structural. When voting becomes harder for anyone, it becomes harder for everyone. It sends a message: your voice is inconvenient. And if that doesn’t outrage you, it should at least scare you.
This hits close to home for me. I live in Texas—home of long lines, limited polling places in urban centers, and ID laws that still baffle logic (your gun license counts, but your student ID doesn’t? Okay, sure, Jan). I’ve watched friends, coworkers, and neighbors get discouraged by the process, confused by changing laws, or just too overwhelmed to keep up. And let’s be real: voting shouldn’t require legal fluency or a full day off work.
But here’s the thing—we’re not powerless. Not yet.
First, we have to stop treating voting like a once-every-four-years obligation and start seeing it as a lifestyle. Local elections matter. Judges, school boards, city councils—these are the people who decide what’s taught in schools, how police are funded, where your tax money goes. They’re the ones quietly passing ordinances that can either uplift communities or strip rights away while nobody’s looking.
Second, we need to push for automatic voter registration and expanded access. That means advocating for things like online registration, more polling locations, longer early voting periods, and restoring voting rights to formerly incarcerated people. These aren’t radical ideas—they’re common sense. And they work.
Third, we’ve got to support organizations doing the groundwork—groups like Fair Fight, Black Voters Matter, and the League of Women Voters. These orgs aren’t just preaching on social media—they’re knocking on doors, educating voters, and fighting legal battles that too many of us never hear about.
And lastly—talk about it. Make it uncomfortable. Call out the apathy. Challenge the narrative. Educate your friends and family, even if it means Thanksgiving gets awkward. Especially if it means Thanksgiving gets awkward.
Look, I get it. It’s exhausting. We’re living in a world that feels like a political spin cycle on high speed, and it’s tempting to tap out. But this is exactly the moment when we can’t afford to. The more fatigued we get, the easier it is for those in power to manipulate the system behind our backs. The quiet erosion of voting rights is just that—quiet. It’s subtle, it’s boring, and it’s strategic.
But we have the power to get loud.
So next time someone tells you “your vote doesn’t matter,” remind them that if that were true, no one would be working this hard to take it away. And if you’re reading this and wondering what you can do—start by registering, staying informed, and showing up.
Because democracy doesn’t die with a bang. It dies with a shrug.