By: Rev. Peter Johnson
Conversations are happening right now among old Civil Rights workers that should trouble every American. These are not political operatives, cable television commentators, or social media influencers. I am talking about aging Black, white, Jewish, and Latino men and women who marched and bled for this democracy.
People who marched in Selma. People who registered voters in Mississippi. People who sat at lunch counters while food was dumped on their heads. People who buried friends whose only crime was believing America should live up to its promises, and lately, I have been talking with many of them. What frightens me is that they all sound the same. Not angry. Not surprised, but heartbroken.
One of my closest friends from the Movement told me recently, “Peter, I feel like I’m watching America quietly become the country we fought to change.” That sentence sat heavily on my spirit because I knew exactly what he meant.
The Supreme Court weakens voting protections, and suddenly, Southern states move with remarkable speed. District lines are redrawn until Black voting strength disappears. Polling places vanish from minority communities. Voter ID laws multiply. Last-minute polling relocations create confusion in neighborhoods where people already struggle with transportation and access.
And then comes the disinformation. Lies online. False rumors about voting dates. Messages designed to discourage turnout. Fear wrapped in patriotism. Intimidation disguised as “election integrity.”
My friends say it reminds them of the 1960s because they remember when these same tactics were used before, just with different language. Back then, they did not always say “keep Black people from voting.” They talked about “protecting the process. Preserving order. State authority.” The wording changes. The goal often does not.
Let me say something plainly that may make some people uncomfortable. There are forces in this country that do not fear fraud nearly as much as they fear high voter turnout. Especially high turnout from poor people, young people, Black people, immigrants, and those living on the margins of power. That is the truth many are afraid to say out loud.
One friend who helped organize voter drives in Alabama during the 1960s told me something chilling. He said, “Peter, back then, they tried to stop us with clubs and dogs. Today, they try to stop us with paperwork, confusion, and exhaustion.”
And honestly, I think exhaustion may be working. People are tired. Tired of politics. Tired of division. Tired of feeling manipulated. Tired of believing their voices do not matter.
May I share something I learned from experience: exhaustion is exactly what oppression feeds on. The enemy of democracy does not always need to defeat people. Sometimes it only needs to wear them down.
That is why I worry when people say, “Voting doesn’t matter anymore.” My Lord, if voting didn’t matter, people in power would not work so hard to control who gets to do it.
What I see happening in parts of this country feels dangerously familiar. I see America flirting with selective democracy, where everybody has the right to vote in theory, but not everybody has equal access to vote in practice.
For many of us who marched, were beaten, and bled, voting is not just political. It is personal. It is spiritual. Too much blood was shed for it to become optional. Too many prayers were prayed over it. Too many bodies crossed bridges and faced jail cells for us to surrender it now casually.
My friends from the Movement all agreed on one thing. The answer is not despair. The answer is overwhelming turnout. Not a normal turnout. Overwhelming turnout. A turnout so large that gerrymandering cannot silence it. A turnout so large that intimidation cannot suppress it. A turnout so large that confusion cannot bury it.
One long-time friend laughed and said, “Peter, they cannot stop all of us if all of us show up.” He is right. The Civil Rights Movement was never powered by comfort. It was powered by determination.
We are now living in a moment that requires that spirit again. Not violence. Not hatred. Not revenge. But courage. Moral courage. Democratic courage. Spiritual courage. America is standing at a crossroads right now. One road moves toward a stronger democracy. The other road quietly slides backward into an America many of us prayed we had left behind. Some of us who survived the first version are terrified we are watching the sequel being written in real time. America, we’re putting our marching shoes back on.
Peter Jerome Johnson, was the youngest staff member of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference under Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. An alum of Southern University, he founded the Peter Johnson Institute on Nonviolence
