While I was standing in line to vote, a white man turned around and started telling me that I was going to have to prove my citizenship, along with a collection of other bullshit.
I was the only Hispanic in line close to him. That detail matters. I cannot tell you what was going through his head, but I can tell you whom he chose to address.
I told him to turn around. I was not interested in his bullshit.
He would not stop.
So I told him to tell it to his MAGA friends. They might be stupid enough to believe him.
A voting line is no place for intimidation
People should be able to stand in line to vote without somebody appointing himself the citizenship inspector. I had gone there to cast my ballot. I had no interest in being subjected to a stranger’s lecture about whether I belonged.
To me, being singled out that way felt like an attempt to intimidate me. His persistence after I told him to stop made the encounter worse.
Think about somebody less willing to confront him. A person voting for the first time. Somebody uncomfortable arguing in English. An older voter who wants to avoid a confrontation. A stranger confidently talking about citizenship requirements could leave that person anxious or uncertain.
That is why this kind of conduct matters. An encounter that one voter brushes aside can discourage another.
I belong in that line
I am a Chicano from Molina, Corpus Christi. My father served this country in World War II. I earned my law degree, became an attorney, and served as a municipal judge.
Those are parts of my life. No voter should need to recite a family history or professional résumé to satisfy a stranger in a voting line.
I told him I was not interested, and he kept going. My response became more direct.
He picked the wrong Chicano to try to scare with his bullshit.
