African Americans face a dual pandemic: anti-Black racism and COVID-19. One is hundreds of years in the making — and the other began a year and a half ago.

Racism has always existed in the United States in one form or another.  Of all the ethnic groups that have come to the United States, African Americans are the only ones to experience the degradation of chattel slavery and a perpetual status of subordination. 

Each historical era since the period of legal African enslavement determined not only how people of African descent lived but also what they lost (Hobbs, 2014). From the antebellum period and its horror of slavery to the Jim Crow era characterized by legalized racial segregation, Black people in America have had to battle against the vicious legacy of oppression and racism.

Lynching, a form of terror experienced by Black Americans during and after slavery, further illustrates the cost of anti-Black racism (Broady, Todd, and Darity, 2018). The recent killings of Ma’Khia Bryant, Daunte Wright, and George Floyd — among many other Black men, women, and children murdered by current or former law enforcement officers — is evidence that the terror of lynching never ended. Perhaps the most telling detail when considering the value of Black life in America is the fact that Congress never passed an anti-lynching bill. Though southern states created their own anti-lynching laws, they were not enforced, thus resulting in only 1% conviction of the criminal offense after 1900 (Equal Justice Initiative, 2015). 

Further, anti-Black racism, which is deeply imprinted into the fabric of the United States, is upheld and enforced today as evidenced by Black people being about five times more likely to be stopped unfairly due to their race by the police than white people (Desilver, Lipka, Fahmy, 2020). Police, prisons, and other carceral systems cause community harm — and waste vast amounts of public resources — rather than ensuring safety.

Creating a new normal in a post-pandemic society requires reimagining public health and safety and reconsidering how we allocate public dollars. This means redirecting federal, state, and local money targeted for public safety away from the institutions that cause harm and do not support the well-being of the American public.

These investments can be made in: public education systems, universal health care, child care, broadband, affordable and healthy housing, parks, roads, street lights, bridges, and other community resources. The combined magnitude of these investments could be enough to create a robust social safety net system, as is common in other nations the United States compares itself to. These are the investments that support health and well-being; and when they are distributed equitably, can begin to move American society away from these dual pandemics and towards racial justice for the first time in this nation’s history.

As a Federal Communications Commissioner, I believe deeply that broadband access is a civil right. That means — just like the right to vote — it impacts nearly all fundamental aspects of our lives, from health to housing, and must be guaranteed. The chasm between those who have broadband and those who do not is called the digital divide.

With the coronavirus pandemic, the long-standing digital divide has morphed into something monstrous. Black Americans and other people of color are still, by a wide margin, significantly less likely to have a home broadband connection than their white counterparts. When we focus on broadband in America, we must also focus on the needs of communities of color as we prepare for our battle against internet inequality.

First, we must all recognize that the digital divide is inextricably linked to economic opportunity. Throughout the pandemic, Black workers have experienced devastatingly high rates of unemployment. It is clear that access to affordable, reliable broadband will be a critical element of how we build back our economy for those searching for jobs or seeking out opportunities to gain new skills for the jobs of the future. Additionally, as Black-owned small businesses have struggled to stay afloat during this time of uncertainty, broadband is needed to help these local businesses — pillars of Black neighborhoods across this nation — respond to a moment that is increasingly dependent on online services.

Second, we must also focus on ensuring that our youngest learners can thrive in a remote learning environment. According to reports, students of color may lose, on average, six to twelve months of learning by the end of June 2021 due to the pandemic and subsequent transition to remote learning. I met with middle school students from Brenda Scott Academy in Detroit, Michigan, who have big dreams but also know the challenges of online learning during this public health crisis. One eighth grader said plainly that she “needed a better internet.”  I couldn’t agree more. We must ensure that students are no longer dependent on trips to their local library and fast-food restaurants to access the internet to do their schoolwork.

Third, this pandemic has shown us that we also need “better internet” to access health care from our homes. We have seen ample evidence that telehealth has made an enormous difference in our nation’s pandemic response, particularly for low-income Americans. Telehealth increases patients’ access to specialists, including mental health care providers, and can further mitigate challenges like travel or other conditions that keep people from seeing doctors. In addition, it may reduce overall health care costs. Telehealth is here to stay, but the benefits of these services can only be realized if households have access to home broadband.

Finally, and this cannot be overstated, broadband allows us to build and nourish bonds with family, friends, and members of our community both near and far. Holidays, graduations, and birthday celebrations have moved online. And like many, my family has moved to attending church services virtually (“Zoom church,” as my 5-year-old likes to call it).

But there’s more. Without internet access, Americans cannot take advantage of online voter registration in 40 states and D.C. or request a mail-in ballot online. This is merely one way in which connectivity gets to the core of our civic participation.

There are many proposals on the table for how we can best close the digital divide;  and the National Urban League’s Lewis Latimer Plan for Digital Equity and Inclusion is a great place to start because we need to address all factors that keep people of color from thriving in this digital age, which includes availability, adoption, and access to economic opportunity.

As we look to our shared future during this unprecedented crisis, it is clear that we have an unparalleled opportunity to refocus our efforts on equity and justice. I will specifically focus on three intersecting paths to ensure we build a digitally inclusive nation. We must directly address the crucial issue of affordability. This cuts across red states and blue states, and the plain fact is that tens of millions of households — both urban and rural — lack broadband simply because it is too expensive. No family should have to decide between putting groceries on the table or getting their household connected. It is essential that we ensure broadband is affordable for vulnerable households that are struggling to make ends meet, and it will help rebuild our post-pandemic workforce and economy. In May 2021, the FCC launched the Emergency Broadband Benefit program to help connect low-income households to the internet. Congress, though, specifically designated this an emergency program set only for the duration of the pandemic. However, it is clear that we will need permanent solutions to ensure that all Americans can afford connectivity.

In addition, we must make a concerted effort to connect our seniors, who generally remain among the most disconnected individuals in America. Nearly 22 million American seniors (42%) lack a broadband connection at home. Not surprisingly, when you account for seniors who are low-income, live in a rural area, or both, the numbers are even more bleak. Digital skills and the lack of access to devices needed to navigate the internet are also significant factors here, and we must do better. We all saw the startling impact that a lack of digital readiness had in this core demographic when the predominant way to register for COVID-19 vaccinations was online.

Finally, I see a powerful ally in partnering with HBCUs. It is clear that crucial investments in HBCUs and the areas surrounding these pillars of our community will have a multiplier effect. When we partner with HBCUs, we’re partnering with the next generation of Black doctors, lawyers, and STEM professionals. In fact, 25% of Black graduates with STEM degrees come from HBCUs, and our collective success here will change the social and economic fabric of Black communities across America. We must invest in building an infrastructure that powers these community hubs of innovation that are largely concentrated across underserved and unserved areas of the Black rural south.   

It will take all of us in government, industry, the civil rights community, and the larger public interest community to collaborate and remain committed to getting Black communities the connectivity needed to fully participate in this digital age. The time is now.

On May 31st, our country marked the 100th anniversary of the Tulsa Race Massacre. We remember this day as one of the most painful moments in our nation’s history. A day when a community was devasted by hate.

Formerly enslaved Black people put down roots in the Greenwood neighborhood of Tulsa, in an area that became known as Black Wall Street. They built their own community—full of talent, culture, and hope. Until that dreadful night, when a mob of more than 1000 white people descended upon Greenwood. Thousands of Black homes and businesses were destroyed. Yet, no arrests were ever made. No proper accounting of the dead was ever performed. No justice ever realized.

Following the massacre—as the people of Greenwood tried to put their lives back together—they were still confronted with the ever present vestiges of systemic racism. Discriminatory practices such as redlining and racist zoning laws prevented Black Tulsans from getting the loans they needed to repair their homes and businesses. The community—like so many Black communities in America—was cut off from jobs and opportunity. Disinvestment from the state and federal government denied Black Wall Street a chance at truly rebuilding.

As we reflect on the Tulsa Race Massacre, we are reminded that even 100 years later, America continues to bear the scars of our dark legacy of racism. It is a constant struggle to address the damage systemic racism has inflicted on our people and this nation.

In June, I was proud to join President Biden in Tulsa, where he became the first sitting President to visit Greenwood and mark the centennial of the Tulsa Race Massacre. It was a moment in our history where our federal government recognized the role it has played in creating barriers for Black communities—and its commitment to break down those barriers.

Today, 100 years later, Black and brown households continue to face discrimination in the housing market—when trying to secure mortgages, to move our families into neighborhoods with greater opportunities, and when having our homes appraised.

A 2018 Brookings study found that homes in majority-Black neighborhoods are often valued at tens of thousands of dollars less than similar homes in, majority-White communities. The impact of disparities in home appraisals can be far-reaching, limiting homeowners’ ability to benefit from refinancing or to re-sell their homes at fair market value. It is a direct form of wealth stripping that contributes to the racial wealth gap.

To add salt in our wounds, we know families of color bear the brunt of the economic devastation caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. People of color were more likely to lose their jobs, to experience a loss in wages, and to fall behind on their rent and mortgage payments.

Fortunately, I am glad to say that—under the Biden-Harris administration—it is a new day in America.

The President is determined to help families achieve greater security and build intergenerational wealth by making equitable access to housing a central priority.

During the President’s first week in office, he charged our federal government to work with communities in eliminating racial bias and other forms of discrimination in all stages of homebuying.

To build upon that commitment, President Biden has tasked me with leading an interagency initiative to combat inequity in home appraisals. It is the first such government-led initiative of its kind—and we have already started laying the groundwork.

We will take swift, aggressive steps that tap into all of the levers at the federal government’s disposal. These include potential enforcement actions under fair housing laws, regulatory actions, and the development of standards and guidance among industry and state and local governments. Together, we will help break down the barriers that keep Black and brown families across the nation from building greater wealth.

At HUD, we understand a secure and stable home represents more than four walls and a roof. Our homes connect us to good schools, better jobs, more affordable transportation options, and to communities with cleaner air and water. Our homes are the bedrock upon which we build our futures. To put it simply, our homes are our foundations.

As America commemorates the 100th anniversary of the Tulsa Race Massacre, we must rededicate ourselves to ensuring social and economic justice on behalf of communities of color. We must finally rid ourselves of the stain of systemic racism from the very fabric and soul of our nation.

That is the mission the Biden-Harris administration will work relentlessly to achieve.

The extraordinary life of a prominent Black man and the painful deaths of too many other Black Americans over the past year serve as a stark reminder of the conflicting state of race relations in our nation. This fragile state-of-being points to both the irrefutable progress that we have made in decades past and the undeniably long path still before us in the years ahead as we strive to achieve true equality.

The legendary Vernon E. Jordan Jr. passed away in March, provoking an outpouring of reverence and appreciation from a legion of admirers of all races, genders, ethnicities and political persuasions. A steady stream of tributes were shared by those who knew him and were touched by his grace and assistance and from others – like me – who benefitted from his trailblazing role in the Black community.

Vernon Jordan was born in a segregated time and place:1935 Atlanta. Expectations for young Black men in the 1950s were so limited that even his ability to read shocked the white banker he spent summers driving for. The banker announced to his friends and relatives that “Vernon can read!” Five decades later, Mr. Jordan would make that banker’s words of astonishment the title of his memoir.

Fortunately for us, it turns out that Vernon could do far more than read. He could think, persuade and lead as the Georgia field director of the NAACP, executive director of the United Negro College Fund and president of the National Urban League (the annual report you’re reading began during Jordan’s tenure). He was a confidant to presidents, a prominent lawyer and businessman and a mentor to countless young people whose lives and careers he enhanced by giving lavishly of his time and wisdom.

Listing his accomplishments scarcely begins to explain the impact he had on the generations of Black leaders he influenced. As the Washington Post’s Jonathan Capehart wrote: “He walked in spaces we once never had access to. And because he did, he cleared a path for more of us to follow in his elegant footsteps.” 

Watching Vernon Jordan navigate successfully through civil rights, legal, corporate and political circles (Ken Chenault once famously dubbed him “the first crossover artist”) was an inspiration to anyone in the Black community with professional aspirations in the private or public sectors – myself included. His intelligence, courage, perseverance and charm were a reminder and, for some, a revelation of the talent and skills that Black Americans could bring to bear if only presented with the opportunity.

Vernon Jordan did more than open doors; he opened eyes. His contributions to racial equality and our nation are invaluable.

Our pride at the heights Vernon Jordan climbed in his life sharply contrasts with the despair we feel as we mourn the loss of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor and Daunte Wright. Their senseless deaths at the hands of police – including those that came before them, and, alas, those who will tragically follow after them – remind us all of just how far we have to go before we can eradicate the implicit and explicit manifestations of racism that infect our society.

The past year was a profoundly difficult one for all Americans, but especially for Black Americans. Multiple crises hit us simultaneously. The coronavirus pandemic and the correlated recession underscored and deepened the longstanding inequities that exist in housing, education, employment and health care.

Yet, amid the anger and pain, there is reason for hope. The converging crises we are struggling through have stirred a cultural awakening reminiscent of the last great civil rights era of the 1950s and 1960s, when the nation finally recognized its failure to approach, much less achieve, the ideals enshrined at its founding and inscribed in its constitution.

That recognition emerged from the ashes of the unspeakable tragedy at the 16th Street Church in Birmingham, Ala., in 1963. And today, another series of tragedies has exposed the racism that has remained unseen by too many. But eyes are opening, and we need to seize this historic moment and move from the promise of equality to its reality.

It’s time to seize on the opportunities that lie before us and renew our commitment to making change happen. The words of the late, great Rep. John Lewis, another giant of the civil rights era we recently lost, are so relevant today. He cautioned us to not “get lost in a sea of despair,” adding that “our struggle is not the struggle of a day, a week, a month, or a year, it is the struggle of a lifetime.” He also reminded us to: “Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble.”

We can begin by being our authentic selves and encouraging others to do the same. We need to reflect on our past and on how racism has blighted the very institutions that are meant to protect us. We need to educate ourselves and others about the insidious nature of racism so we can end the self-perpetuating cycle of injustice.

We need to fully embrace what it means to be anti-racist. And we need to replace a system of structural racism that has existed for centuries with an ecosystem that achieves racial equality once and for all.

These changes will take all of us working together, aligning the public, private and nonprofit sectors to deliver on the promise that our nation has yet to fulfill.

We have it in our power to channel our pain into meaningful and sustainable change. Let’s build on Vernon Jordan’s example by working together to fix what is broken in our society today – and tomorrow.

Katrina, a 47-year-old Black woman participating in a December 2019 focus group of Black middle-class women in Wichita, summed up her feelings about the violence and inequality that Black people face in the U.S. rather succinctly, “Just the general state of the world; it's just very depressing.” [i]

In a pre-COVID world, Katrina, the mother of a 17-year-old son, admitted that not getting a text from her son when he was out would make her “a nervous wreck.” “There was a couple of times I drove to the school to be sure he was there because once he got in the school, he turned his phone off, and I couldn’t get in touch with him... So I’d just drive to the school to see “‘Okay, his car’s here.’”

During a May 2020 follow-up interview, Katrina admitted to having coached him on what to do if he was ever stopped by the police as he drove school. Katrina shared that every morning, “he has to text me when he gets to school, and he has to text me when he’s leaving,” adding that “every now and then he forgets. Like, when he was going to school, he’d get to school, and he’d forget to text me.”

For this worried mom of a Black son, one of the silver linings of the pandemic has been that, because of remote schooling, she doesn’t have to worry about her 17-year-old driving across town to school for a while.

Katrina also described how her perspective on racial inequality — and police killings in the U.S. — had changed. There was a time when she believed that “as long as your kid’s not doing something wrong, it’s going to be okay.” But then she began to realize that “people that weren’t doing something wrong started getting killed, and then it’s like, “‘Oh, okay, it’s just because he’s Black that I’ve got to worry now.’”

The extrajudicial murders of Ahmaud Arbery by Gregory and Travis McMichael while he was jogging in his South Georgia neighborhood followed by the high-profile murders of Breonna Taylor in her home by plainclothes Louisville police officers Brett Hankison, Jonathan Mattingly, and Myles Cosgrove, and the death of George Floyd under the knee of former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin heightened the awareness of the injustice we had all been living with.

“In the last few years, it’s just been… I don’t think it’s changed, I think all these things have been going on before, it just wasn't brought to the forefront as much as it is now. So, there's a lot more concern, especially for a Black son. I think about it a whole lot more than I ever thought I would have years ago. Just because what's been going on with Black kids being killed by police.”

“And we moved into a predominantly white neighborhood,” Katrina shared. “We live in a neighborhood association, and they have a little lake with a thing you can walk around.” Now, she feels anxiety every time her son, who plays baseball, football, and runs track, wants to go outside to run. “It’s kind of like, ‘Oh, God! You don't even feel safe with him going in the neighborhood running?’”

Katrina is not alone in her anxiety or her mistrust and fear of the police. According to a May 2021 poll, these feelings are shared by many others. Almost one-third of Americans (32%) reported thinking that the police in their community treat people of color more harshly, an increase since 2015. Just over 60% of Black people reported often or sometimes experiencing discrimination because of their race, and nearly two-thirds of Americans (67%) think that current policies surrounding police use of force should be reformed.

The COVID-19 pandemic shined a necessary and painful light on American society, revealing long neglected health inequities and exposing longstanding deep fissures that exist along the lines of race. As this nation moves towards a new normal in a seemingly post-pandemic environment, it is important to reimagine our collective approach to public safety to create an American society that supports our well-being and protects us all.

[i] Methodological Endnote:                                             

This data comes from the 2019-2020 American Middle Class Hopes and Anxieties Study (AMCHAS) conducted by the Brookings Institution Future of the Middle Class Initiative (FMCI). This work was done in partnership with sociologist and ethnographer Dr. Jennifer Silver and the Econometrica, Inc. research firm.

AMCHAS is a national qualitative data collection project intended to strengthen what is known about middle-class well-being in the U.S. and to inform policy to support it. We launched AMCHAS in fall 2019 to facilitate our qualitative exploration of happiness, hope, and anxiety related to how middle-class Americans spend their time, their financial security and health, how they think about relationships and respect, and how these concepts might differ by race/ethnicity and/or gender. Because of the timing of this work, AMCHAS gathered people’s experiences with time, money, health, respect, and relationships prior to the COVID-19 pandemic and in the early months of it in the U.S. (May 2020).

AMCHAS included 12 race-gender stratified focus groups and 15 in-depth interviews with middle-class Americans living in Houston, TX; Las Vegas, NV; Wichita, KS; Lebanon, PA; and Prince George’s County, MD. We held two focus groups for each of the six race-genders included in our study (Black women, Black men, Latina women, Latino men, white women, and white men). This approach allowed different middle-class race-gender groups to talk openly about their experiences in their workplaces, with their families, communities, and in their everyday lives. Our definition of the middle class included individuals living in households with incomes ranging from $22,900-$130,900, in line with the FMCI definition which considers households in the middle 60% of the income distribution as “middle class.”

America’s criminal legal system is rooted in the nation’s history of legalized slavery and racial oppression. Our current system of punishment is still founded on a basic conception of outsider-hood that continues to create and perpetuate racial, ethnic, and class inequality. Criminal legal reform efforts must engage directly with this sordid lineage to unmoor the inequitable impacts and outcomes of our current system of “justice.”

As Cornell William Brooks, former president and CEO of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, wrote: “Communities of color are over policed, over-prosecuted, over-incarcerated and yet underemployed.” The racial disparities throughout our criminal legal system are considerable. For example, one in three Black men are incarcerated in their lifetimes compared to one in 17 white men. When it comes to policing, these disparities are even greater, as evident in the number of Black men and women who are killed without justification by law enforcement officers. A mapping of police violence illustrates that Black Americans are three times more likely to be killed by police officers than white Americans, while nearly twice as likely to be killed as a Latinx person. Black Americans are also about 30% more likely to be unarmed in fatal interactions with police than white Americans.

Can the federal government do anything to transform the American criminal legal landscape and reduce racial disparities? This is a genuine question. So many of these challenges exist at the local and state level. For instance, local jails and state prisons account for 91% of the nation’s incarcerated population. To put it just a bit differently: There are about 2.2 million people behind bars in this country, but only about 175,000 of them are in federal prison. Additionally, there are more than 10 million admissions in and out of the nation’s colossal network of local jails each year; more than 4.5 million people on probation or parole; and more than 70 million people have conviction histories that subject them to lifelong consequences to their lives and livelihoods. And when it comes to policing, there are 18,000 local police departments dotting the United States.

Yet still, the federal government is uniquely situated to incentivize systemic reforms for state and local-level criminal legal systems.

Consider the many forms that federal involvement in local criminal justice affairs can take. Federal agencies can and do enforce federal law against localities. For example, the Justice Department’s Civil Rights Division and U.S. Attorneys’ offices have the statutory authority to bring civil rights actions against corrections agencies and local police departments in addition to criminal prosecutions against individual officers to enforce federal rights law when police violate those rights. And through the federal government’s grantmaking powers, it can shape state and local criminal justice policy

Federal funding schemes have long encouraged states to focus their resources on law enforcement interventions to deal with social problems, often resulting in our government locking up ever more people for ever longer periods of time. This has resulted, in part, in today’s bloated carceral state. In fact, since the 1960s, the federal government has played a central role in shaping the nation’s criminal justice landscape through outlays of grant money to states. For decades, federal grants encouraged states to increase arrests, prosecutions, and imprisonment. Federal funds have supported the expansion of local jails, including paying jails to house federal incarcerated individuals as well as ICE detainees.

One example of how federal dollars incentivized the growth of the carceral state that only exacerbated racial disparities is through the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994 (The 1994 Crime Bill), which authorized incentive grants to build or expand correctional facilities. Grants totaling $12.5 billion were authorized for incarceration, with nearly 50% earmarked for states that adopted tough “truth-in-sentencing” laws that required people to serve substantial portions of their custodial sentences. Other examples over the last half century include the Omnibus Crime Control and Safe Street Act of 1968, which provided $400 million for law enforcement purposes; and the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986, which increased federal funding for law enforcement to fight the drug war. Then in 2005, when reauthorizing the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA), Congress created the Edward Byrne Memorial Justice Assistance Grant program (JAG). All 50 states, territories, and more than 1,000 local governments rely on JAG dollars, whose funding level for the entire program averages between $300 to $500 million yearly. Those dollars support almost any criminal justice activity covered by the federal statute, yet about 60% of state-level JAG dollars support law enforcement and corrections functions. In his 2013 book, “Rise of the Warrior Cop: The Militarization of America’s Police Forces,” journalist Radley Balko encapsulated this crime fighting incentive well: “As local police departments were infused with federal cash, members of Congress got press release fodder for bringing federal money back to the police departments in their districts.”

The federal government should no longer subsidize mass incarceration and should instead incentivize states to reverse the era of excess punitiveness and shrink the carceral state. One powerful way to do so would be for the president to champion and Congress to pass the Reverse Mass Incarceration Act (RMIA) to unwind these incentives by ensuring that federal grants are sent only to states that reduce incarceration. Designed to undo the damage inflicted by federal policies incentivizing states to lock up more people and to lock them up for longer periods of time, the RMIA would establish a grant program rewarding states for lowering their prison populations.

For states to obtain funding under the RMIA, they would have to submit plans describing how they would reduce incarceration; the RMIA would set an across-the-board reduction target for all states to meet. The grant would encourage states to take numerous steps to undo mass incarceration, like changing sentencing laws, establishing new programs diverting people away from the system, or improving wraparound services for individuals reentering their communities after incarceration. Leaders on both sides of the political spectrum all agree: The United States must end mass incarceration, which highlights and exacerbates racial inequality in America’s criminal punishment system. And we believe the RMIA can serve as a vehicle for reigning in state prison populations, while vastly reducing racial disparities in the system.

As calls for racial justice continue ringing in the air, the federal government should use its powers to realize the humanity, equality, and dignity of all. Black and Brown people deserve more. And anything less threatens to make our justice system anything but.

Access to higher education is a longstanding civil rights issue. In the past, the exclusion of students of color from college campuses was accepted as standard operating practice — or even legally sanctioned. While students of color are no longer legally excluded from campuses, today financial exclusion prevents them from attaining a college degree and realizing its benefits.

Just as the COVID-19 crisis shed a bright light on stark inequities in our health care system and disparities in how we experience and navigate economic disruption, that same penetrating light has exposed the longstanding impact of student loan debt on millions of people’s lives and our nation’s economy. Americans owe a collective $1.7 trillion in student loan debt, ranking second only to mortgage debt. This massive burden is borne disproportionately by communities of color.

As we begin to build our new normal, canceling student debt and fixing our broken higher education system is essential. We must reject the notion that attaining a college degree must equal a lifetime of debt. We must reaffirm our commitment to higher education access and make it a reality. This starts by unburdening the millions of families impacted by the student debt crisis, and then actively working to fix our higher education system, which will move us toward closing the racial wealth gap.

Federal policies created this crisis; federal policies must solve it. President Biden should relieve borrowers and taxpayers of this unsustainable balance through substantial broad-based cancellation.

President Johnson signed the Higher Education Act in 1965. The law — enacted to open the doors of higher education to low- and middle-income students, students of color, and women through need-based grants, work study, and federal student loans — was designed to expand access to college to all Americans. While the GI Bill and the National Defense Student Loan program had previously opened access for some, the HEA marked a new major public investment in higher education intended to help more students attend and pay for college. But not all students benefited equally from these public investments. Segregation, discrimination and the long history of resistance to integration at public institutions denied Black students full access to both the GI Bill and the benefits of the Higher Education Act.

In the following decades, legal exclusion quickly morphed into financial exclusion. In fact, at the very moment when college campuses were beginning to diversify, policymakers began shifting the costs of higher education from the public to the individual student. Today, while Pell Grants remain the largest source of federally funded financial aid for higher education, they do not cover anything close to the real cost of college. State higher education budgets have never recovered from the drastic cuts made in the wake of the Great Recession, and income and wages have remained stagnant. Given this context, more families are forced to rely on increasing levels of debt to pursue postsecondary education.

This shift in financial responsibility compounds what is already a difficult situation for Black and Latino students struggling to fund their college experiences. The ongoing legacy of systemic racism and exclusion and diminishing public (and private) investment in HBCUs and other minority serving institutions have left students of color in a worse state, making them especially vulnerable to being preyed upon by poor-quality for-profit institutions that fail to provide reliable educational benefits. For-profit institutions target students of color (41% of students enrolled at these colleges are Black or Latino), women, and veterans. While these institutions thrived under the previous administration — benefitting from the rollback and gutting of common sense rules of accountability — many students ended up with unmanageable debt, a low-quality degree (or no degree at all), and poor employment prospects.

Put simply, once considered “the great equalizer,” college and college degrees have failed to live up to their promise for too many Black students and graduates. Rather than helping communities of color build wealth, recent research shows that a college education actually deepens the wealth gap due to the already high cost of living and existing structural disparities in our society and economy.

But despite the wealth depleting effect of higher education, especially for students of color, the pursuit of higher education is not a choice. In today’s workforce, a postsecondary degree is a necessity, not a luxury. Students of color are often presented with two “options”: Get a college education and accrue a high amount of debt or forego college and limit their chances of finding decent paying jobs.

Student debt has delayed, disrupted, and denied millions of young people the milestones many of us have taken for granted, including the ability to purchase a home, start a business, have children, save for retirement, get married, and more. Further, Black families have just a tenth of the wealth of white families and Latino families have just an eighth. These existing wealth disparities make the student loan debt burden particularly heavy for African American and Latino communities. Historical and ongoing racial discrimination translates to higher loan amounts for the same degree, discrimination in the labor market, inadequate funding for institutions that serve higher numbers of students of color, and other structural disadvantages.

Further, white college graduates are significantly more likely to receive financial support from their parents for their education. While 32% of white parents contribute large financial gifts of $10,000 or more, only 9% of Black college-educated households can do the same. Even when Black students received some family support for higher education, the amount averaged to just over $16,000, versus the nearly $73,500 white students receive on average.

Meanwhile, almost three times as many college-educated Black households are providing economic support to their parents as white college graduates. As they support their parents, many Black households are also working to provide postsecondary educational opportunity to their children, further compounding their debt burden. Thus, for many Black families, pursuing higher education now means being trapped in an intergenerational cycle of debt.

As a result,  students of color end up needing to borrow more, and a disproportionate percentage of them (including the majority of Black students) will experience delinquency and default on their student loans. And because women also shoulder an excessive amount of the student loan balance, they are also more likely to have difficulty with repayment, with Black women bearing the brunt of this load.

Because Black borrowers disproportionately struggle with student debt at every income bracket and education level,  all policy solutions, including cancellation, must center equity and consider wealth, not income.

While we support reforming the repayment system, that alone won’t fix this. After 20 years in repayment, the typical Black borrower still owes 95% of their original balance while their white peers owe only 6%. And, as noted, Black borrowers are also more likely to fall behind on their loans and are more likely to face the extremely harsh repercussions of defaulting on a federal student loan. The balances also sit on their household finance sheet and their credit reports, impacting not just their financial security but their mental health as well.

The only effective solution to addressing the student debt crisis begins with debt cancellation.

According to federal data released in April, canceling $50,000 per borrower would have a significant impact on those devastated by student loan debt; 36 million of the 45 million federal student loan borrowers would have their debt eliminated. That includes 9.8 million of the 10.3 million federal student loan borrowers who were in default for more than three months at the end of 2019. It also includes more than 4 million people who have been in repayment for more than 20 years.

After cancellation, the next necessary step is to clear the books of the remaining bad debts held by borrowers who have been in repayment for more than 15 years. Students and families shouldn’t have to live under the weight of student loans for decades, as under the current system. Debts should also be cleared for other borrowers who will continue to struggle in repayment, such as those whose debts have been in default for three or more years and borrowers receiving federal means-tested benefits for three or more years. This step would benefit borrowers, the economy, and the federal government.

Beyond cancellation, our “new normal” will require other policies that expand meaningful higher education access to communities of color: Doubling the Pell Grant, debt-free college, income-based repayment reform, full and equitable investments in HBCUs, and accountability for predatory for-profit institutions are also necessary to build a better, more equitable higher education system.

America is at a social and economic justice crossroads. Our nation is wrestling with its legacy of structural inequity while struggling to achieve economic opportunity for all. As a society, we can choose to reset; we can choose to codify and prioritize justice and equity.

It is past time for a new higher education social contract, a contract that embodies the ideals of civil rights leaders, including the National Urban League’s own Whitney Young. And the very same ideals that President Lyndon B. Johnson laid out more than 60 years ago.

Despite the COVID-19 pandemic, voters turned out in record numbers in 2020 — whether they voted in person or absentee.[1] During and after the 2020 election, then-President Trump raised frivolous claims that voter fraud, particularly in absentee voting, had tainted the election.[2] Despite these claims being repeatedly debunked, state lawmakers across the country have aggressively pushed legislation that would restrict access to the ballot box. In the first half of 2021, lawmakers in all but one state have introduced hundreds of restrictive voting bills, with restrictive policies already enacted in at least seventeen states.[3] The sheer volume of legislation makes these efforts to restrict voting access unique and all efforts to push back so critical.

A consistent theme in this legislation is limiting access to absentee voting. In addition, many of the restrictive laws enacted to date focus on imposing stricter ID requirements for absentee and in-person voting, limiting voter registration opportunities, and increasing the likelihood of voters being “purged.”

Americans increasingly turned to absentee ballots in 2020.[4] The response in many states has been an increased effort to restrict the availability of absentee voting. In the first six months of 2021, more than half of the new laws restricting voting access limit absentee voting in some way.[5] For example, the new Georgia law will require voters to supply an ID number or a copy of an ID when requesting and returning an absentee ballot. The bill also dramatically shortens the timeframe when a voter can request an absentee ballot and seriously limits and undermines the effectiveness of absentee ballot drop boxes.[6] The new Iowa law also limits the timeframe to apply for an absentee ballot and shortens the window for returning an absentee ballot.  In addition, the Iowa law limits drop box availability to one per county and imposes additional restrictions on who can return an absentee ballot on a voter’s behalf.[7]

Additionally, advocates and lawmakers continue to push for stricter voter ID requirements for absentee and in-person voters alike.[8] Four laws have been enacted to date to tighten or impose new ID requirements.[9] For example, a new Wyoming law will require that voters present one of only a few forms of ID before voting.[10] This policy doesn’t give voters unable to obtain ID the opportunity to affirm their identity and vote with a regular ballot.[11] In Montana, a new law restricts the use of student ID for voter registration and for in-person voting.[12] In Arkansas, two new laws impose harsher voter ID requirements: The first eliminates a voter’s ability to vote by provisional ballot if he or she lacks ID;[13] the second removes a voter’s option to use a non-photo ID, even if the voter has a religious objection to being photographed.[14]

Lawmakers have also passed bills that will make the registration process more difficult. For example, a new Montana law will eliminate Election Day voter registration,[15] and the new Iowa law moves the deadline to register to vote from eleven to fifteen days before Election Day.[16]

Another major theme among bills that are moving or have passed is expanding opportunities to purge voter rolls — with four such laws enacted to date.[17] The aforementioned Iowa law, for example, requires the state to participate in the United States Postal Service’s change-of-address program as a mechanism of removing voters from the rolls.[18] The new Utah law allows for the state to remove voters’ names from the rolls without any notice to the voter if the state has received notice that the person may be deceased.[19]

At least 24 lawsuits have already been filed in state and federal courts challenging many of these laws.[20] Eight lawsuits had been filed in federal court challenging Georgia’s new law, including a case filed by the U.S. Department of Justice.[21] In one suit, the Georgia NAACP and other parties claim that the law’s restrictions on absentee voting — e.g., requiring ID with absentee ballots and curtailing ballot drop boxes — violate Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act and the 1st, 14th and 15th Amendments to the U.S. Constitution.[22] In Iowa state court, the Iowa branch of the League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC) filed suit claiming that, among other provisions, restricting the number of drop boxes and limiting who can return an absentee ballot on behalf of a voter violated the state constitution’s guarantees of the right to vote, free speech and assembly, and of equal protection.[23]

Beyond litigation, federal legislation is necessary to push back against efforts to restrict voting access, including the For the People Act (H.R. 1/S. 1) and the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act (VRAA). The For the People Act would make voting accessible for those who do not have the necessary ID and would prohibit the requirement for ID for absentee voting. The bill would also require states to provide drop boxes, eliminate excuse requirements for absentee ballots for federal elections, and require states to provide same-day voter registration for federal elections.[24] The For the People Act would create a floor for what states must do to ensure access to the polls. In doing so, the legislation would serve as a guard against the types of restrictive legislation that is moving or has passed in the states.[25] While the House passed the For the People Act several months ago, Senate Republicans have stalled progress by refusing to start debate on the bill.[26]

Just as important is the VRAA, which would restore the Voting Rights Act of 1965 to its full force. Because of the Supreme Court’s 2013 Shelby County decision, there is currently no federal preclearance process in effect for states with histories of voter discrimination.[27] The VRAA would create new criteria to determine which states and jurisdictions would have to submit voting changes for review to the Justice Department or a federal court.[28] Passing the VRAA would allow the Justice Department or a court to stop these restrictive laws in their tracks.[29]

Too many bills that would restrict absentee voting, impose stricter ID requirements, limit registration opportunities, and increase voter purge opportunities have passed across the country. In addition to challenging these restrictive voting laws in the courts — and in the court of public opinion — the passage of H.R. 1 and the VRAA is necessary in order to combat these efforts at voter suppression. The Congress must pass, and President Biden must sign, both H.R. 1 and the VRAA.

[1] Drew Desilver, Turnout soared in 2020 as nearly two-thirds of eligible U.S. voters cast ballots for president, Pew Research Center, Jan. 28, 2021, available at https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2021/01/28/turnout-soared-in-2020-as-nearly-two-thirds-of-eligible-u-s-voters-cast-ballots-for-president/; Domenico Montanaro, President-Elect Joe Biden Hits 80 Million Votes In Year Of Record Turnout, NPR, Nov. 25, 2020, available at https://www.npr.org/2020/11/25/937248659/president-elect-biden-hits-80-million-votes-in-year-of-record-turnout.

[2] Stephanie Saul & Reid J. Epstein, Trump is Pushing a False Argument on Vote-by-Mail Fraud. Here are the Facts, N.Y. Times, April 9, 2020, available at  https://www.nytimes.com/article/mail-in-voting-explained.html; Jim Rutenberg et al., Trump’s Failed Crusade Debunks G.O.P.’s Case For Voting Restrictions, N.Y. Times, Dec. 27, 2020, available at https://www.nytimes.com/2020/12/26/us/politics/republicans-voter-fraud.h... see also Donald J. Trump, Remarks at White House Coronavirus Task Force Press Briefing (April 7, 2020) (“Now, mail ballots — they cheat. Okay? People cheat. Mail ballots are a very dangerous thing for this country, because they’re cheaters. They go and collect them. They’re fraudulent in many cases. You got to vote. And they should have voter ID, by the way. If you want to really do it right, you have voter ID.”).

[3] Brennan Center for Justice, Voting Laws Roundup: May 2021, May 28, 2021, available at https://www.brennancenter.org/our-work/research-reports/voting-laws-roun....

[4] Alexa Corse & Chad Day, Coronavirus Surge in Mail Voting Likely to Lead to More Rejected Ballots, Wall St. J., Oct. 4, 2020, available at https://www.wsj.com/articles/coronavirus-surge-in-mail-voting-likely-to-lead-to-more-rejected-ballots-11601827201; Zach Montellaro & Laura Barrón-López, States rush to prepare for huge surge of mail voting, Politico, April 25, 2020, available at https://www.politico.com/news/2020/04/25/states-mail-voting-surge-207596. 

[5] Brennan Center for Justice, supra note 3 (see enacted laws tracker).

[6] S.B. 202, 2021 Leg. (Ga. 2021).

[7] S.F. 413, 89th Gen. Assemb. (Iowa 2021).

[8] The Heritage Foundation, The Facts About Election Integrity and the Need for States to Fix Their Election Systems 3 (2021) (“A voter should be required to validate his or her identity with government-issued photo ID to vote both in-person or by absentee ballot (as states such as Alabama and Kansas require).”).

[9] Brennan Center for Justice, supra note 3 (see enacted laws tracker).

[10] H.B. 75, 66th Leg. (Wyo. 2021).

[11] Id.

[12] S.B. 169, 67th Leg. (Mont. 2021).

[13] H.B. 1112, 93rd Gen. Assemb. (Ark. 2021).

[14] H.B. 1244, 93rd Gen. Assemb. (Ark. 2021).

[15] S.B. 169, 67th Leg. (Mont. 2021).

[16] S.F. 413, 89th Gen. Assemb. (Iowa 2021).

[17] Brennan Center for Justice, supra note 3 (see enacted laws tracker).

[18] S.F. 413, 89th Gen. Assemb. (Iowa 2021).

[19] H.B. 12, 2021 Gen. Sess. (Utah 2021).

[20] See e.g., Brennan Center for Justice, Voting Rights Litigation Tracker 2021, June 9, 2021, available at https://www.brennancenter.org/our-work/research-reports/voting-rights-li... Pete Williams, Georgia faces growing number of legal challenges over new voting law, NBC News, Mar. 30, 2021, available at https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/elections/georgia-faces-growing-number-legal-challenges-over-new-voting-law-n1262478;  Montana Democratic Party challenges changes to voter ID laws, Associated Press, April 20, 2021, available at https://apnews.com/article/election-2020-government-and-politics-montana-laws-voter-registration-9779bbeccccbc33ee3079138d55e59af; Stephen Gruber-Miller, Latino civil rights group sues over Iowa's new election law, which cuts early and Election Day voting, Des Moines Register, Mar. 9, 2021, available at https://www.desmoinesregister.com/story/news/politics/2021/03/09/lulac-sues-iowa-voting-law-signed-gov-kim-reynolds-constitutional-rights-latino-civil-rights-group/4643153001/.

[21] New Georgia Project v. Raffensperger, No. 1:21-01229 (N.D. Ga. filed Mar. 25, 2021); Georgia State Conf. of the NAACP v. Raffensperger, No. 1:21-cv-01259 (N.D. Ga. filed Mar. 28, 2021); Sixth District of the African Methodist Episcopal Church v. Kemp, No. 1:21-cv-01284 (N.D. Ga. filed Mar. 29, 2021); Asian Americans Advancing Justice-Atlanta v. Raffensperger, No. 1:21-cv-01333 (N.D. Ga. filed April 1, 2021); VoteAmerica v. Raffensperger, No. 1:21-cv-01390 (N.D. Ga. filed April 7, 2021); Concerned Black Clergy of Metropolitan Atlanta, Inc. v. Raffensperger, No. 1:21-cv-01728 (N.D. Ga. filed April 27, 2021); Coalition for Good Governance v. Raffensperger, No. 1:21-cv-2070 (N.D. Ga. filed May 17, 2021); United States v. Georgia, No. 1:21-cv-02575-JPB (N.D. Ga. Filed June 25, 2021).

[22] Complaint for Declaratory and Injunctive Relief, Georgia State Conf. of the NAACP v. Raffensperger, No. 1:21-cv-01259 (N.D. Ga. Mar. 28, 2021).

[23] Petition in Law and Equity, League of United Latin American Citizens of Iowa v. Pate, No. CVCV061476 (Iowa Dist. Ct. Mar. 9, 2021).

[24] For the People Act, H.R. 1, 117th Cong. §§ 1621, 1903, 1907 (2021); see also S. 1, 117th Cong.

[25] Wendy Weiser et al., Congress Must Pass the ‘For the People Act’, Brennan Center for Justice, April 1, 2021, available at https://www.brennancenter.org/sites/default/files/2021-04/2021_03_CaseForHR1_update_V6.pdf.

[26] Barbara Sprunt, Senate Republicans Block Democrats' Sweeping Voting Rights Legislation, NPR, June 22, 2021 available at https://www.npr.org/2021/06/22/1008737806/democrats-sweeping-voting-righ....

[27] See Shelby County, Ala. v. Holder, 570 U.S. 529, 556–57 (2013) (holding that the existing preclearance coverage formula violated the U.S. Constitution and could not be used as a basis for determining which jurisdictions required preclearance).

[28] John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act, H.R. 4, 116th Cong., § 3(b) (2019).

[29] See, e.g., Texas v. Holder, 888 F. Supp. 2d 113, 144 (D.D.C. 2012) (denying federal preclearance to a strict voter ID law), vacated and remanded, 570 U.S. 928 (2013) (vacating denial on the basis of the Shelby County decision).

The survival of Black communities necessitates that we make law enforcement less deadly. The emancipation of Black communities from interlocking systems of oppression necessitates a reconstruction of the concept of safety. Redesigning public safety requires rejecting the racist and biased institutions that have not only failed Black communities but have also contributed to the violence enacted against them. This means that our vision cannot be myopically focused on policing; it must address everything that precipitates a police encounter and be accountable for everything that happens after.

In doing this work with vulnerable communities across the nation, the Center for Policing Equity (CPE) believes the “new normal” for our public safety must prioritize four interconnected themes:

1. Meaningful engagement with Black and other vulnerable communities to understand the drivers of inequalities.
2. Redefining the role of public safety to include community health and economic well-being.
3. Redesigning a government response model that produces more equitable outcomes and proactively centers the needs of Black and other vulnerable communities.
4. Creating the collaborative systems Black and other vulnerable communities deserve while reconstructing existing systems to improve qualities of life and collective optimism for life longevity.

First, the new normal for public safety necessitates meaningful engagement with Black and other vulnerable communities to understand the drivers of inequalities. Groups that are the most impacted by law enforcement (e.g. Black, Latinx, LGBTQ+, Indigenous, houseless, etc.) are often the hardest to reach and the least willing to participate due to their circumstances and/or legitimate mistrust in public institutions. CPE and the City of Ithaca’s collaborative “Reimagining Public Safety'' community input effort was largely successful in overcoming skepticism and increasing participation by deploying a variety of response options, meeting vulnerable communities where they were, and conducting in-person interviews for those without internet access. The findings emphasize how race, gender, sexuality, class, disability, and other characteristics intersect within Black communities in ways that require different needs from public services.

Second, public safety must be redefined to include community health and economic well-being, which shifts the conversation away from punitive measures toward life-affirming interventions. Punitive responses often underestimate or ignore entirely the emotional and psychological damages caused by aggressive policing tactics aimed at crime prevention (Bandes et. al 2019.) A health and well-being framework refocuses on factors of  state neglect of  vulnerable populations and divestment from programs that can support such populations. These factors can lead to an increase in contact between marginalized groups and the criminal legal systems in ways that contribute to suffering and reproduce cycles of poverty.

There is a critical need for non-penal solutions to calls for service that involve otherwise non-criminal, health-based crises. One alternative is the creation of unarmed mental health first responders trained to treat and support populations experiencing mental health crises rather than to arrest them. Further, CPE has learned that narrowing the scope of policing to exclude crises to which police are not adequately equipped to respond has the potential to reduce officers’ exposures to traumas, thus improving their well-being. By acknowledging the ways that officers’ increased well-being is tethered to the well-being of the communities they police, officer wellness is brought into alignment with efforts to redesign public safety. CPE supports public safety solutions that uplift vulnerable communities’ right to self-definition, account for the mutuality of officers’ and communities’ wellness, and invest in non-repressive solutions to crime and violence, such as improved systems of education, healthcare, housing, and employment.

Third, CPE supports an approach to public safety driven by innovative government response models that produce more equitable outcomes and proactively center the needs of Black and other vulnerable communities. CPE’s work in Ithaca illustrates one such possibility for change. An analysis of Ithaca’s calls for service found that the Ithaca Police Department (IPD) spends about a third of its time responding to calls that will not lead to arrest (RPS Collaborative, 2021). Although calls-for-service data do not capture the entirety of police interactions with the community, they provide a useful estimate for how police spend much of their time and a partial assessment of community needs. The analysis provides empirical guidance for the city’s creation of a new department of unarmed Community Solution Workers, a team trained in de-escalation and service delivery to respond to the many calls for service involving non-criminal issues and less serious crimes. These kinds of analyses highlight opportunities for non-criminalizing government responses to problems of homelessness, misbehavior of school children, and mental health issues.

Last, Policing Equity is guided by the principle that our work to improve the systems we have should align with our work to create the systems we deserve. Redesigning public safety is not a zero-sum game between improving existing institutions and creating new systems altogether. We must insist on harm reduction efforts (like investing in people’s basic needs and addressing root causes of interpersonal violence) in criminal justice systems alongside the building of non-punitive systems for otherwise non-criminal disturbances. Proponents of retributive “law and order” approaches to crime exploit public fears that reducing the footprint of policing will lead to spikes in violent crime. However, data suggests that a small minority of police work, less than 1% in 10 major cities, is related to violent crime, indicating that departments have the capacity to reduce the number of contacts with the public in ways that will subsequently reduce the risks of police violence (Asher and Horowitz, 2020).

For example, the city of Berkeley, CA — one of CPE’s law enforcement partners — announced plans to eliminate police enforcement of low-level traffic violations in order to limit police contact during vehicle stops that disproportionately harm Black and Brown people. Working closely with the Berkeley Police Department (BPD), CPE found that officer-initiated traffic stops did not significantly reduce crime, and Black people were about 6.5 times more likely to be stopped than white people. Our findings provided the evidence that spurred the city’s decisions to adopt critical policy changes. BPD will subsequently focus on traffic violations related to safety, stopping drivers who could cause injury or death rather than minor equipment violations. CPE law enforcement partner, Norfolk Police Department (NPD) in Norfolk, Virginia, has also reduced police-community contact by implementing virtual police responses for non-emergency calls for service, such as those involving property damage and theft. These kinds of changes resist the expansion or shoring up of carceral solutions while acknowledging the dire and immediate need to reduce the harms of policing in Black and vulnerable communities.

The experience of safety has been illusory or altogether non-existent for many Black Americans. Black communities have been disproportionately subjected to deficits and precarity caused by a retrenchment in state support systems and an unparalleled growth of carceral institutions. We must forge a path for populations relegated to the vulnerable margins of society to access the abundance and stability monopolized by the populations at the center. CPE has outlined four themes we believe are integral to helping close these gaps, broadening our understanding of community and individual well-being, and ensuring that progress is made by centering Black lives and futures. Until we do so, public safety will persist as an illusion for Black America.

For as long as America has existed, two opposing forces have fought over how we express and confer the rights and privileges of citizenship, freedom, and equality. Those who believe in a more inclusive nation have been countered by those who seek to maintain their own power. And today, we are facing a multi-pronged assault that seeks to roll back protections for voters, restrict access to the franchise, and redefine the way that power is gained and exercised in the United States.

We have seen this assault in voting restrictions, voter ID laws, and voter roll purges that have unfairly, and in some cases illegally, impaired the rights of American citizens. We have seen it in map manipulation and gerrymandering that have allowed politicians to pick their voters so a party with minority views and minority support can illegitimately govern with majority power. We have seen it in Supreme Court decisions that gave secretive organizations the power to spend unlimited money; that gutted hard-won protections written into the Voting Rights Act; and that abdicated the Court’s own responsibility to ensure justice in the face of partisan gerrymandering. All of these efforts prevent people from being heard – most specifically, people of color.

These voter restrictions and gerrymandering efforts are significant reasons why state legislatures and Congress are not representative of the nation. They are why – on issues from health care to gun violence to systemic racism to voting rights – our representative forums far too often do not adopt the policy desires of the people.

This series of injustices sets in motion a vicious cycle: By picking their voters, politicians insulate themselves from meaningful challenges. Politicians who are unaccountable to their constituents are emboldened to push more discriminatory voter suppression bills, more widespread voter purges, more pernicious voter restrictions, and more blatant gerrymandering to lock themselves into power for decades to come. The longer this process continues, the more difficult it will be to bring it to an end.

That’s the bad news.

The good news is that we know what we have to do in order to make necessary, fundamental change. Far too often, we overlook the important races happening at the state and local level, but these are the political figures who often have the greatest impact on our day-to-day lives. We must elect state legislators and governors who are committed to legitimate representation and a fair redistricting process. We have to litigate against maps and restrictions that seek to disenfranchise voters. We have to fight for nonpartisan commissions and fair processes in every state. We have to pass federal reforms like the For the People Act, which bans the gerrymandering of congressional districts, creates standards to protect voters, and helps remove dark money from our political system. We also need to pass the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act, which would enhance the Voting Rights Act of 1965 and restore key provisions that the Supreme Court erroneously gutted. In communities and districts across the nation, we have to establish and maintain the fundamental idea that power must be established and maintained through the will of the people.

I know our success is possible. After I left the Department of Justice, I set up the National Democratic Redistricting Committee to help end partisan and racial gerrymandering and ensure access to the franchise. In states like Colorado, Ohio, Michigan, Virginia, and Utah, we supported successful voter referendums to create citizen-led commissions to draw the maps or reforms that make the process less partisan. In North Carolina, we brought cases that required the creation of new, more fairly drawn districts. And across the country, we helped reform-minded candidates win elections to state legislatures, judicial seats, and governors’ offices.

This work isn’t about creating an advantage for any one party. All Americans have a stake in a democracy that prizes the idea of “one person, one vote.” No matter your political persuasion or what policies you advocate, your voice will be stronger if politicians are required to be responsive to your needs. Political parties, too, should welcome a fair contest; if you are confident in your proposals, you should put them to the test. If you support democracy – not just the appearance of democracy but real governance that derives its power from the people – then you have an obligation to make the infrastructure of our democracy free and fair.

These proposals don’t just uphold our democratic ideals. They also create better policy outcomes. They make it possible for members of Congress and state legislatures from different parties to work with one another in good faith – instead of focusing only on the possibility of a primary challenge from the most extreme wings of their party. They ensure that the people of this country can be heard over the noise of partisan posturing or the power of special interest money. Building a fair, representative democracy is how we achieve long-term advances on issues from employment to education, from health care to housing, and from civil rights to criminal justice. It’s how we count every vote – and make every vote count. It is how we advance equality, opportunity, and justice in areas where too many Americans are still let down, left out, and left behind.

The job before us will not be easy; it never has been. But our aims are worth fighting for. We know from our history that the future is built by those who show up; by those who engage, resist, persist, and overcome. We have an opportunity – and an obligation – to build upon the work of all those who came before us. It is now our time to shape this nation into the diverse and compassionate community that has always been the promise of America. Make no mistake, we have the capacity to repair our country and forge a nation that recognizes the dignity of every human being and that finally makes real the promise of America.