New Voting Laws Add Difficulties for People With Disabilities

Laura Halvorson was ready to vote. On Thursday afternoon, she sat in front of a ballot screen at the Igo Library in San Antonio, after spending a month preparing for this moment. It was the first time in years that she had been in a public place, other than a doctor’s office.

Sitting in her wheelchair, she wore two masks — one a KN95, the other a part of her breathing machine. Because Ms. Halvorson, 38, has muscular dystrophy, a condition that progressively decreases muscle mass, and makes her more vulnerable to Covid-19, she needed to use a remote-control device supplied by poll workers to make her ballot selections.

No one knew how it worked.

The glitch was one of many obstacles she had to navigate, both on that day and over the previous weeks, to fulfill what she saw as her civic duty. For Ms. Halvorson and others with disabilities, casting a ballot can always present a challenge. But new voting restrictions enacted in several states over the past two years have made it even harder.

A law signed last year by Gov. Greg Abbott of Texas, a Republican, has made it more difficult for voters to cast ballots by mail and narrowed their options for voting in person, according to groups that advocate for people with disabilities and voting rights. Other Republican-led state legislatures, including in Georgia and Florida, have passed similar measures as a part of what they say are efforts to prevent voter fraud, despite rare occurrences of the crime.

“Instead of embracing the more accessible forms of voting that sparked record turnout, including among voters with disabilities,” said Brian Dimmick, a senior staff attorney for the disability rights program of the American Civil Liberties Union, “states have doubled down on new and more restrictive voter-suppression laws.”

None of the new laws single out those with disabilities, but advocates say they have left many people who would otherwise vote by mail with burdensome options: face the greater risk that their mail-in ballot could be thrown out — as Texas did at a higher-than-usual rate during the March primary — or go to the polls in person, which involves its own set of inconveniences or, worse, physical barriers, and often deprives people with disabilities of a sense of privacy and independence that other voters can take for granted.

“Voters with disabilities are being disenfranchised by all these new laws, from onerous ID requirements to longer lines, making the entire process less accessible,” said Shira Wakschlag, the senior director of legal advocacy at The Arc, a disability advocacy organization.

Several Texas Republicans who supported the new voting law did not respond to requests for comment about its effect on people with disabilities, although a spokeswoman for Governor Abbott said in a statement that it “protects the rights of disabled Texans to request reasonable accommodations or modifications.” At a hearing last year, State Senator Bryan Hughes, the Texas bill’s author, described accommodations for voters with disabilities as potential security risks, and said narrowing them would stop others from “using those opportunities to cheat.”

Voting could already be difficult for those with disabilities. About 17.7 million reported voting in the November 2020 election, according to a report by the Program for Disability Research at Rutgers University and the U.S. Election Assistance Commission. Eleven percent of them, or nearly two million people, reported that they had some difficulty voting in that election — almost double the rate of people without disabilities.

The right to vote privately and independently was enshrined 20 years ago by Congress in the Help America Vote Act, which was the first law to require polling places to have accessible voting systems. The law also established the federal Election Assistance Commission, an independent body that sets guidelines for states and counties to accommodate disabled voters, which can be enforced by the Justice Department.

Despite the law, Thomas Hicks, the commission chairman, said disabled voters still encountered problems, including those who are blind and have trouble locating accessible voting locations, and those who use wheelchairs and need voting machines to be low enough or adjustable to eye level.

For Ms. Halvorson, a former special education teacher, the difficulties include being able to raise her hands and tap the screen of a voting machine, she said, because of her reduced motor skills. She lives with her partner, accompanied by different caregivers, in a one-story house in San Antonio, and also relies on a breathing machine to survive; a bad case of pneumonia in 2014 weakened her lungs, and she was not able to make a full recovery.

Voting by mail made things simpler for her. But after reports that Texas had thrown out more than 18,000 mail-in ballots from its most populous counties during the March primaries, Ms. Halvorson — who cannot write on her own and feared having to appeal a rejected ballot — felt she had no other choice but to vote in person. She wanted to “see the ballot go in” herself, she said — even if it meant risking her health.

“This election is too important to wait to find out if my vote counted,” she said.

A week of research about voting in person led Ms. Halvorson to a new kind of machine that Texas had recently put in place, allowing a remote to be connected to the screen and used to make selections. She called her county clerk to ensure those machines would be present at the Igo Library, her local polling place. She did not hear back, she said.

Lydia Nunez Landry, a disability rights activist in Houston who has a different form of muscular dystrophy, said her experience using the remote on the first day of early voting went so poorly — including a poll worker seeing Ms. Landry’s chosen candidates — that she immediately filed a complaint with the Justice Department.

“I’m just so angry,” Ms. Landry said. “They constantly are changing things, it feels like, to the disability community. We’re just so confused.”

Ms. Halvorson wanted a caregiver to accompany her to the polling place in case she had a similar experience and needed help. She also scheduled a coronavirus vaccine booster shot exactly two weeks before the end of early voting.

On Thursday morning, Ms. Halvorson viewed an online guide to the candidates one more time. Her former service dog, Houston, wagged his tail as he put his paws in her lap and begged for treats.

She drove to the library with one of her daytime caregivers, Shae-Lynn Lewis, in a large orange, wheelchair-accessible van. A parking spot for the disabled was available, which often is not the case, Ms. Halvorson said. Then it was time to take an inventory. Ms. Halvorson ticked off aloud what to bring inside: phone, identification, water bottle, hand sanitizer and wipes, and the absentee ballot she needed to turn in.

Inside the library, a voting clerk wearing a U.S. Marine Corps veteran cap waved people through to the polling room.

Ms. Halvorson and her caregiver entered and waited in line to turn in the absentee ballot and receive a remote. Ms. Halvorson later said her heart “was beating out of her chest” as she saw all the people around her without masks on in such close quarters.

After securing the remote and pulling in front of a voting machine, she began trying to click through on the side buttons, but the screen did not respond. She said she asked for help, but none of the workers seemed to know how it worked, either.

After a few tries, she said, the up and down buttons on the remote made the screen respond. It was still hard to read, however, as the font seemed to be enlarged and cut off the party affiliations for candidates she didn’t know.

The Bexar County elections administrator, Jacquelyn Callanen, did not respond to requests for comment about Ms. Halvorson’s voting experience.

While at least two dozen people entered and exited the voting area within minutes, Ms. Halvorson remained inside, trying to navigate the machine. After about half an hour, she was able to deposit her ballot.

Later, she said she felt fortunate that her experience was not worse. Still, she said, “It should be smooth for literally everybody.”

Before Ms. Halvorson left, one observer acknowledged her efforts. “The man gave me two ‘I voted’ stickers,” she said. “He said it’s because I had to go through twice as much as everybody else.”

Ava Sasani contributed reporting.