This is The Black Urbanist Weekly, an email newsletter that highlights the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist thoughts and commentary of me, Kristen Jeffers, an internationally-known urban planner, fiber designer, and contributing editor. Think of this as an editorial page column, but directly in your email. This week, I’m reflecting on the failure of the ballot box when bodies are dehumanized under capitalism.

I’m tired of my humanity being on a representative ballot. My identity and my bodily autonomy shouldn’t be dependent on a vote

Just like it’s not ok that neighborhoods and lands are inaccessible, discriminatory, and/or sites of violence, it’s not ok that so much of our identity and autonomy as humans is at the mercy of the direction of a ballot box.

It’s one thing to be in a room of people of consensus or voting on an issue that will benefit all, but control of one’s uterus and airborne viruses are public health issues. No matter where a human lives, that should be a basic provision.

Shelter and food and healthcare and natural resources shouldn’t be amenities we vote for or pay extra for.

But this is where we are. I’m still voting because of our acute need to do so, but the anxiety of the ballot box is just as annoying as the anxiety over my general health and needing to do a good job to keep a roof over my head, food in my belly and even sadly proper access to nature.

Tomorrow, I cast my history-making Maryland ballot for another Black governor candidate (and Indian-American Lieutenant governor) and to legalize recreational cannabis, along with other key local issues (bonds to make sure we keep up public buildings). So many of you are hoping to make history with Black, queer, trans, women, disabled, and other marginalized people taking over seats of power for the first time.

I’m grateful that I live in a state that allows myself and my partner to be married when it’s time. (Fun fact, organizing for Maryland’s 2012 Question 6 was what brought my partner to Prince Georges’s County, Maryland ). Abortion here in Maryland isn’t perfect, but it’s not threatened or illegal or on our ballot tomorrow.

Meanwhile, in 2014, I was in the minority of voters in North Carolina, to vote against that state’s constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage.

Today I live with my partner in one of the Maryland counties that were closely split (52/47) against the 2012 marriage question.

Closely split.

Red and blue maps

Recounts

Bodies are on the ballot.

All of those sentences send shivers up my spine. Then I click out of the browser window and turn off the screen and ask myself why is it ok for us to have our lives on the line on a ballot.

Once again it’s not ok. Just like no corner of this earth should be depriving humans and other living creatures of what they need to flourish and grow naturally.

But we live in a capitalistic hellscape, increasingly on an imperialistic gauntlet, of which many have no direct control in moments that matter, like healing from sickness and keeping a roof over their heads. Billions of children are out of this control by default.

The ballot gives us back some illusion of control. As adults, we can treat it like an intentional practice. However, voting is the last step in an entire democratic practice that many of us don’t utilize enough, namely speaking out at public meetings or hopping on a ballot, or applying for board appointments.

In some places, like where I grew up, there’s a whole program to provide a mock election for children, where you go vote on your own ballot for the things your caregivers and community elders vote on for real.

You go vote, sometimes in the same cafetorium, you have all the major group events at your school in, with the smell of slightly burnt square pizza waifing in the air and echoes from the principal’s all-school announcements. It’s the stuff that matters for you as a kid because you actually live in a benevolent dictatorship.

That dictatorship lets you go on the playground or play with blocks or eat at least two meals a day without thinking.

That is if your school cares about creating a beloved community, guiding you to make good choices, and explaining why we take action to make communities.

However, more schools are like prisons and dictatorships. Many places barely let adults vote and live abundantly.

But imagine what it would be like if we did the things and made the decisions on a regular basis, in a common area, with accessibility in mind, that make a beloved community for all.

Back to my present. I usually vote early at a recreation center about 10 minutes drive from my home(note here that it’s a 10-minute drive and at least a 45-minute bus ride). Before I vote, I make sure I read guides put together by community members, about candidates who stepped up to use their talents to build community and I tell people how to get where they need to go or get a ballot mailed to them.

Unfortunately as of this writing, I didn’t get to the early polls at that rec center and I’ll be at the polls bright and early at the rec center down the street, within walking distance. And however things shake out, I will vote for my bodily autonomy and collective liberation first.

And because those things need more than my check on a ballot, one day very soon I will have my name on a ballot, or my body back on an appointed dais and I’ll be continuing to use this platform to amplify accurate information and my honest and good faith opinion.

It’s not all we can do, but it’s the start I must take.

By the Way

If you’re new here, I write out my grand thesis of the week above, then I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them.

LaTosha Brown, a co-founder of Black Voters Matter, analyzes what’s at stake in this election for all Black folks.

Dr. David Johns, executive director of the National Black Justice Coalition, a key Black LGBTIAIA+/SGL organization, analyzes what’s at stake for Black and queer people.

Ballotpedia allows you to type in zip codes, namely your own, and see who’s on the ballot. They also have a lot of nonpartisan resources and analysis of elections across the country, past, present, and future.

Meanwhile, I appreciate Sami Salek and Duke University Press making Black Disability Politics open source (i.e. free to read in digital form).

And yes, like Damon Young, still masking, still negative (paywall), and I’m still appalled that we even let this get politicized and make us feel ashamed for protecting our health.

Before You Go

Check out some special announcements from me.

I’ll be live on LinkedIn and YouTube talking about everything I mentioned above and then some for my Open Studio/Office Hours Wednesday, November 10 from 11:45–12 noon Eastern. Don’t worry if you can’t watch live, it will be archived publicly on all spaces.

My bookshelf over at Bookshop.org is very much alive and well, purchase your copies of the books I talked about above, plus more that I’ve designated part of the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist canon, the general urbanism canon,

and other lists because you can never have too many books.

Finally, learn how and what you can book me for in 2022 and 2023.

If you want to support me for any reason, but don’t need anything in return, you can donate to my capital campaign, or Venmo or Cash. App me.

Until next time,

Kristen