Duluth News Tribune: Con la deuda pagada, A los delincuentes de Minnesota se les permite votar para darles participación en la sociedad

Daris Nordby, shown near Duluth’s CHUM homeless shelter, has had a difficult year: He left his girlfriend, lost his job, and doesn’t have anywhere to live. Pero, dice, “By the grace and power of God, I stayed sober through it all.” (Bob King / rking@duluthnews.com)

Daris Nordby, shown near Duluth’s CHUM homeless shelter, has had a difficult year: He left his girlfriend, lost his job, and doesn’t have anywhere to live. Pero, dice, “By the grace and power of God, I stayed sober through it all.” (Bob King / rking@duluthnews.com)

(por Chuck Frederick)
Mayo 4, 2015

La vida de Daris Nordby ha estado llena de errores, y si se le debe algún crédito en absoluto, puede ser por su voluntad de poseer a ellos y asumir la responsabilidad. Su primera condena por delito grave, for possession of methamphetamine, came at age 16. His first of 890 days behind bars came in 2010 after he threatened a guy while under the influence of meth. Another felony followed after a domestic dispute and a regrettable push to the neck, again while on meth.

Nordby is out of jail and has been sober for a year now, but the reminders of all that he did and of who he is — a felon — dog him relentlessly. He can’t find housing. He lived with a girlfriend for a while but moved out when she started using and he no longer wanted to. He can’t find work. He had a job cleaning a department store at night but lost it when the homeless shelter where he started staying in February said he couldn’t sleep there during the day.

“I’ve experienced many barriers and hindrances during this process of changing my life to be a productive member of society,” said Nordby, 27, who grew up near St. Cloud and moved to Duluth to get away from the people in his hometown who he knew would keep selling him drugs, keep him using and lead him back toward trouble. He came to Duluth for help from the Bethel Port Rehabilitation Center, where he spent six months. He came here to save his life.

“My biggest issue now is the voting thing,"dijo. “I feel that if I did my time and I paid for my past (and if) I’m trying to be a productive member of society, I should have a voice. I should be able to have a say in what goes on in my community . … I should have the right to vote.”

Wait, Qué? Despite being homeless, jobless and one bad decision away from no longer being sober, did Nordby really just claim that the biggest issue in his life right now is the Minnesota Constitution forbidding felons like him from voting while they’re still “on paper,” meaning still on probation or on parole?

Doesn’t matter. Even if it really is his No. 1, and even if a bunch of groups determined to allow felons to vote aren’t just highlighting his story to further their own cause, there’s this: There’s little reason not to allow felons to vote once they’ve done their time and are supposed to be acclimating back into society, as Nordby and the groups contend. Thirteen other states already allow them to vote — both blue states and red states.

Minnesota can be next. Legislation under consideration this session in St. Paul deserves passage, proponents say. It already has growing bipartisan support.

Sí, the prohibition on felons voting is written into Minnesota’s Constitution, a document revered, as it should be.

“But in 1858 when our Constitution was enacted, we had about 35 people in prison (y) there were about 75 felony crimes on the books. Today there are over 370 felony crimes.” In other words, times have changed, dijo Jason Adkins, executive director of the St. Paul-based Minnesota Catholic Conference, one of six groups represented when Nordby was interviewed at the News Tribune last week, all of them members of the Restore the Vote Coalition.

“Your civil rights are not restored until your full sentence is completed. The Constitution gives the authority to the Legislature to determine exactly when that is. Historically, that’s the full sentence (including probation and parole),"Adkins dijo. “Some people think, ‘Oh, a felony, that’s murder, rape, some of these dangerous crimes.’ But the definition of felony has greatly expanded since 1858. So many things today are felonies, including drug-possession crimes. One big transition we’ve had in the criminal justice system since 1858 is we do have a system of probation and parole that really wasn’t contemplated by the framers of our Constitution. … So, just as our criminal justice system has changed, we think it’s time for a deliberate rethinking of this current policy.”

Minnesota has low incarceration rates and, como resultado, lengthy probation and parole terms, some of them spanning decades. That’s a long and unnecessary wait for voting rights to be restored, Jana Kooren of the St. Paul-based ACLU of Minnesota argued.

“These are people living in the community. They’re paying taxes. Their kids attend school. They’re working. They’re fully participating in everything, yet they’re denied the right to vote.

How is that right?” Kooren asked at the News Tribune. “Taking away the right to vote is a punishment that does nothing to deter crime. It’s not helping anything. It’s not making things better. … When people participate in their community in a positive way it reduces recidivism. … If (society has) decided you’re ready to live in the community, then that should be when you should be able to vote.”

Read the rest of the story here