Top: WYBCs Johnnie Epps with the Greater New Haven NAACP’s Dori Dumas and Elise Bethea-Cotton at Lincoln Bassett School Bottom: 19-year-old  Jaquan Blount, who cast his first vote for Vice President Kamala Harris and Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz. Lucy Gellman Photos.

The words floated over the sidewalk outside Wexler Grant Community School, a balm as the sun began its long descent in the sky. Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery/None but ourselves can free our minds! At the center of the group, Solomon Geleta lifted his face to the sky. Have no fear for atomic energy/’Cause none of them can stop the time. He sang for his ballot, for the women in his life, for the state that raised him. How long shall they kill our prophets/While we stand aside and look?

A mile away, Jaquan Blount emerged from the heavy doors of Lincoln-Bassett Community School, a first-time voter with his older sister’s urgings still heavy on his mind. In the parking lot, Johnnie Epps lifted a sign that read “I Voted” beside a poster for WYBC. For a moment, both busted a move to Aaliyah’s “Try Again.” 

Hours before the country turned red on Tuesday night, instances of beauty popped up everywhere in New Haven, as artists, storytellers, educators and future voters all preached the gospel of voter literacy across the city. From Election Day storytime at Possible Futures to soul-stirring music at Lincoln-Bassett and Wexler Grant Community Schools, they worked to spread joy through the final stretch of a divisive election season, and even more divisive result.

“It feels so good to use art to promote voting,” said Geleta, a freshman at Yale who cast a ballot for Kamala Harris in Florida, his home state, in honor of and fear for the women in his life. “It’s a great project.” 

“It feels good to use my voice,” said Christopher Scott, a first-time voter at Lincoln Bassett who cast a ballot for Vice President Kamala Harris and Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz. “I think it’s important to exercise your right as an American citizen. We need change—it’s the only smart decision.”

“All Those People In Different Places”

Possible Futures founder Lauren Anderson. 

For a few voters—and their young charges—that work began Tuesday morning at Possible Futures, which is nestled between polling sites on Ellsworth and Edgewood Avenues. As parents and kids trickled in, bookspace founder Lauren Anderson set up a space for storytime among the couches and chairs. Outside, a tribute to Ruthie Wilson Gilmore wound around the Hotchkiss Street side of the building, a reminder that abolition is everyday work.

Beside Anderson, a small, neat stack of stickers sat among copies of Winsome Bingham’s The Walk (A Stroll to the Poll) and Ani DiFranco’s Show Up and Vote. Sample ballots waited on a table nearby, with a small “ballot box” covered in butcher paper. Attached to windows and bookshelves, two large sheets of white paper asked kids to vote on drinks and snacks that the bookstore should carry, as well as employee of the month.

By 11 a.m., bookstore dog Sugar appeared to be an early contender. Sunlight streamed through the window, falling across the floor and onto snugly packed shelves of books. “Does anybody know what day it is today?” Anderson asked.

Top: Emily Palten and her son, Edwin Langberg. Bottom: Kids vote on November’s employee of the month. 

Six-year-old Edwin Langberg’s hand flew up. “Election Day!” he answered matter-of-factly. He explained that Tuesday morning, he had gone to the polls to vote with his mom. This year was doubly special because his parents vote at Edgewood School, where he is normally a student.

“I vote for Eliza!” cut in three-year-old Sophia, referring to a friend who sat beside her. Sophia, in turn, said she would happily vote for Eliza, who is four.

Anderson considered the declaration seriously. “There is a part where you can write in your own suggestions,” she said. Her hand hovered over Show Up and Vote for a moment. In the book’s world, November had brought wind and rain to Election Day, and the narrator was getting soaked.

“It’s a beautiful day today,” Anderson said, gesturing to the sun-soaked sidewalk and fall leaves outside. “But somewhere today it’s raining. Somebody is walking to go vote and their coat is getting wet.”

Back in the book, the character and their mother headed to the polls. They had a job to do—and nobody could do it for them, Anderson explained. As she turned the page, the young narrator came face-to-face with her neighbor, who was checking voters in.

“What do you think she’s looking for?” Anderson asked. Edwin’s hand went up again.

“I think she’s like …” he paused and collected his thoughts. “This morning when I watched my mama vote, I saw she, like, crossed off my mom’s name on sheets of paper,” he said.

“Yes!” Anderson said. “That’s exactly what she’s doing. She’s going through all the pages to find the name of the person who’s gonna vote!”

In the book, DiFranco’s character saw more of her neighbors while waiting at the polls. There were teachers, school administrators and family friends, community artists and magic-makers and muralists. When the time came to finally move into a voting booth, her mom explained that all would be well—they were voting for the candidates who would get things done.

“When you went to go vote with your mom, did you press buttons?” Anderson asked Edwin.

“We colored the paper,” Edwin said.

Top: Edwin. Bottom: Three-year-old Gabriel Payano and his dad, Fernando. 

Anderson nodded as she reached the last page. “You colored the little circle?” In the book, her narrator closed her eyes and imagined millions of people casting their ballots at the same time.

“All over the country, people are doing the same thing right now!” Anderson said. “What are they doing today?”

“Voting!” pint-sized readers answered in not-quite-unison.

“Voting!” Anderson echoed, and already there was a small chorus of tiny voices, talking about voting with their parents. “I imagine all these people in my mind! All these people in different places! Voting!”

“Who is ready for another story?” she added after leading the group in gentle stretching. As she opened Bingham’s The Walk, she transported young readers to a city not too unlike New Haven, where a young girl was accompanying her grandmother on the way to the polls. Along the way, her grandmother spoke about the importance of not missing a single election.

As the two made their way to vote, they picked up neighbors from homes and barbershops, corner stores and churches, the group growing bigger at each stop. Finally, they reached a bright brick building that rose up from the sidewalk, not too unlike Troup School down the street.

Top: Liam, Eliza, and Sophia with their “We Did It” stickers, which Anderson found after a suggestion from the group. Bottom: Bingham’s signature, which includes the inscription “Vote + Hope = Democracy.”

“Mama!” exclaimed three-year-old Gabriel Payano as he studied a sea of faces brightly illustrated across the page. Anderson smiled. Eliza reached up, and took his hand. For a moment, voting took a backseat to their serene, budding friendship. Then Bingham’s characters were front and center once again.

“They don’t want us to say what we have to say,” Anderson read in her best impression of the grandmother. “That’s why we have to show up, show out, and show them.”

“Okay, now I need your help,” she added as she closed the book, handing out stickers to each young reader who came into the store. She asked them to vote on drinks and snacks that she could carry (while popsicles were an early frontrunner, cookies and hot chocolate ultimately won in a landslide), whether kids should be able to vote (children voted yes; adults voted no) and who should be the employee of the month (98 percent of voters opted for Sugar, the bookspace dog). 

“I want a sticker that says, ‘We did it!’” Sophia exclaimed before heading out to lunch with Eliza and three-year-old Liam Trueman. Liam’s mom, Amanda, is their nanny—and an advocate for early attempts at voter literacy.

“We always vote,” she said. “We vote on which playground to go to. We vote on where we’re gonna go for lunch.” So when it came to explaining the presidential election—the first that any of the kids have been alive for—she returned to the same groundwork.

“I explained that the president is a really, really, really important person who is like the boss of the country,” she said. “And girl power.”

Edwin’s mom Emily Palten, who teaches kindergarten at John S. Martinez School, said that she shares that interest in teaching civic engagement early and often. At six, Edwin “has a lot of questions,” particularly if and when he hears his parents talking about Donald Trump. When he asks who she’s voting for and why, she’s as honest as possible.

“I will say that he’s [Trump] not an honest person, that he doesn’t treat everybody with respect,” she said.

“I’m nervous but really trying to be hopeful,” she added. “But definitely nervous on behalf of myself and all of us. I feel sort of shocked that the reality again.” 

Top: Lynette Murphy greets voters. Bottom: Ben McManus.

Down the street at Augusta Lewis Troup School, the morning’s hefty turnout had slowed to a trickle of voters. Outside, Democratic Ward Co-Chair Jane Kinity and longtime poll worker Lynette Murphy greeted them with warm hellos, handing out a quick refresher of what was on the ballot before they made their way into the school’s gymnasium.

One of them was Ben McManus, who works in human resources at the Yale School of Engineering & Applied Science. A longtime New Havener, he said that his priority in voting was “regaining the respect of the world, having a woman president and just restoring hope in our post-Covid world.”

“The main issue was stopping a fascist and all his minyans from taking over the government,” he said. “You had a man who basically bypassed Congress and the courts.”

Ron Dowd. 

Minutes later, North Carolina transplant Ron Dowd said that the treatment of immigrants and the “racial climate” were among his top priorities when casting a ballot for his first time in Connecticut. A graduate student in sacred theology at the Yale Divinity School, Dowd moved to New Haven roughly six months ago.

His faith—like the fact that Jesus was a migrant, or that most Judeo-Christian texts have passages about how to welcome immigrants and foreigners—is one of the things that guides him when he goes to vote. It’s about “how we treat people and how our policies affect the lives of those who are often othered,” he said.

“I Think She Might Make The World A Better Place”

Top: Christopher Scott. Bottom: Kim Harris brings students into Lincoln Bassett with her to vote.

Up Dixwell Avenue at Lincoln-Bassett School, Christopher Scott had just cast his first ballot—to a clanging cowbell and much fanfare from poll workers—when educator Kim Harris and her students made their way to the building. Waving to them with a half-smile, Scott headed out, done with his civic duty for the day. A few yards away, Harris and her students were just beginning.

As the director of Harris and Tucker School, Harris has been working for weeks to educate her students about the election, with visits from Ward 20 Co-Chair Barbara Vereen and Board of Alders President Tyisha Walker-Myers. Vereen, who lives in Newhallville, taught students and their parents to register to vote. Harris later brought students into Lincoln-Bassett with her, so they could meet poll workers and watch her vote in real time (“Hey, that’s my cousin!” she joked of being a Kim Harris voting for a Kamala Harris).

“What do you want to ask?” Harris posed to the students who had lined up behind her.    

Logan and Kyrie Hudson.

“Do you believe that your vote counts?” ventured Kyrie Hudson. A six-year-old twin from Newhallville—his brother, Logan, came in a matching green sweatshirt and bright smile—he later added that he had started the day voting with his mom. At Lincoln-Bassett, he had a chance to vote again, this time on a mock ballot Harris had printed for all of the students.

“It was fun!” he said, adding that he cast his own ballot for Kamala Harris. “I was happy and excited cause she said that she will make sure that everybody is safe.” 

“I voted for Kamala Harris because she helps my mom go to work and she helps us go to school,” added nine-year-old Tamya Dunlap-Massey. “If she wasn’t the president, we wouldn’t be smart or go to school.”

Memory Jones with Kameena and Tamya Dunlap-Massey.

Nine-year-old Memori Jones said she voted with both the economy and her own education and safety in mind. When she goes grocery shopping with her mom, she sees how expensive food is. She wants a president that can change that—and also ensure that she’ll grow up in healthy public schools and a neighborhood that is cleaner than hers is now. That’s ultimately why she opted to mock vote for Kamala Harris.

“She might make good decisions,” she said. When she visits her grandmother in Newhallville, Memori sees things that she hopes to change—like substance use disorder, loud noise in the street and erratic driving (she, like many New Haveners, has no love for the Kia Boys). If she could enact legislation, she said, she’d advocate for a clean, safe greenspace and fully-funded schools in her neighborhood and city. That’s ultimately why she mock voted for Harris.

“I think she might make the world a better place,” she added.

As he watched students buzz excitedly toward a mock ballot box, ready to cast their votes, Attorney General William Tong praised Kim Harris’ work around early voter literacy and civic engagement, which has remained a constant in the neighborhood for years (read more about that here, here, here and here).

As the child of immigrants growing up in West Hartford, he learned firsthand how important that kind of education could be. “Participation and engagement—that’s the key to everything,” he said (in 1992, he added, Tong cast his first vote for President Bill Clinton). “It’s not something you develop later in life.” 

Nearby, Lossie Gorham said that she was voting for the future—both hers and theirs. Born and raised in North Carolina, she moved to New Haven 30 years ago. She now lives just across the street, and had been at Lincoln Bassett for hours as a volunteer.

“It was important to me that Ms. Harris wins,” she said. “I just don’t want to see Trump getting in there—I want to see a Black woman win. I worry about what my future will be under Trump, and I want to see history made.”

Top: Epps in action. Bottom: Lonnie Gorham. 

She turned toward a wave of sound that Johnnie Epps, a radio host and DJ, was blasting from a black van decorated with the logo for 94.3 WYBC. Epps said that the music, a collaboration between WYBC and the Greater New Haven NAACP, was meant to lift peoples’ spirits in the final hours that the polls were open. As voters trickled in and out, he stopped to hand them an “I Voted” sign and snap a picture.

“We’re just coming out, playing some music,” he said as TLC’s “Waterfalls” pumped from the van’s speakers. “I may play their favorite song at the right time, and hopefully it helps.”

For several voters, it did. “You know what? It gave me a little bit of energy,” Gorham said as she extended her arms and began to dance. “Just to have that beat going through my body.”

“I needed this energy today!” chimed in Dori Dumas, head of the Greater New Haven NAACP, as she came to check out the scene. After spending the day feeling anxious, the music allowed her to unwind and soak in the moment—even temporarily.

“It feels like the time is now,” she said as she got back behind the wheel of her car, to catch an encore from Shades of Yale at Wexler-Grant Community School. “I hope people see how qualified she is. It’s way past time—it’s amazing, awesome that my daughter, my granddaughter could look up and say, ‘That could be me.’”