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It was a crisp fall morning in November of 1996. Dew on the Tennessee grass with multi-colored trees lining the streets as my dad drove me to school.

This day, however, was different. I wouldn’t be getting dropped off because my regular school was closed. My dad was taking me to see why people were still “going to school.”

When I walked in, I saw rows and rows of machines with curtains. “This is so cool,” I thought.

My dad took me with him into a booth and said, “Do you want to vote?” Enthusiastically, I smiled and nodded yes.

My dad lifted me up and told me what buttons to press. When he put me down, he told me, “Don’t tell anyone you did that, you are not supposed to vote until you’re 18, okay?” He was joking of course, but that’s my first memory of voting.

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As I got older my father and mother instilled in me the knowledge of my history and culture. Growing up in the South my summers were rarely filled with trips to Florida and Carolina beaches. Rather, I spent many summers touring historically black colleges and universities, visiting historic sites such as the Lorraine Motel, the infamous location of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King in Memphis.

We visited the 16th Street Baptist Church, the scene of a bombing that killed four Black girls at choir rehearsal during the height of the civil rights movement. I spent many summers with my grandmother, who was a former sharecropper, and she spent much time educating me about her life dealing with poll taxes, intimidation from the Ku Klux Klan and more.

These experiences helped to shape my view on the importance of voting.

Voting not only means something political to someone like me, but it is also very much a cultural experience. Understanding the extreme honor I have in being able to vote, it fills me with pride because truly I’m living my ancestors’ dream for me.

In 2020 the pandemic forced many to reimagine the way they vote, and many made the choice to vote by mail. I, with my son, who was a first-time voter in the 2020 election, put on a mask and went to my nearest polling station to vote in person in the middle of a pandemic. Many would ask, “Why? Is it not easier to just vote by mail?”

What those people are failing to realize is it’s not about ease for every voter. Some would argue that voting for minority communities hasn’t always been as “easy” as assumed. That grit, that resistance, that patriotism to go to the polls and defy odds, was passed down to modern generations.

This is specifically my story. I vote in person out of homage to my ancestors and the U.S. Constitution. What may motivate another person to traditionally vote in person will be their story. The point is, mail-in voting and early voting cannot replace in-person Election Day voting, nor should it.

To demand the public adjust to mail-in voting while scaling back in-person Election Day voting centers is asinine.

Democracy is not simply a concept, democracy requires action. It is fundamental that our state invest in our democratic infrastructure.

I voted in person at 11:30 a.m. Tuesday at Honolulu Hale. It took me two hours to vote. I am fortunate that Honolulu Hale is within a 10-minute drive for me. As the day went on, I received many calls from frustrated voters who couldn’t figure out where to go to vote. My heart sank as I told these working-class people they would need to drive at least 40 minutes from where they live and be prepared to stand in a three-hour line after that.

The most populous island in the state only had two in-person locations. That fact alone is egregious. The neighboring islands, much more rural than Oahu, had even less of an option.

Democracy is not simply a concept, democracy requires action. It is fundamental that our state invest in our democratic infrastructure. Many seek to place the blame squarely on state Elections Chief Scott Nago. I find that extremely lazy and short-sighted. Nago can only work with what he is given.

The fact is it’s a failure of the governor and legislators for not allocating more money for elections. Be clear, the issue of long lines was absolutely brought up with legislators and advocates, a year prior no less, and blind eyes were turned.

With the 2024 election now behind us it is time to move forward with lessons learned. We have learned that mail-in voting cannot replace the growing enthusiasm surrounding in-person voting in the state. It’s time for all branches of state government to come together, now more than ever, and make sure that our democratic institutions are well funded.

This will help enable citizens to interact with democracy in many ways and allow for greater participation in democracy.