Tati Abu King couldn’t vote for more than 37 years because of a felony conviction. When he returned to his community after serving his time, he didn't set out to make history. He just wanted to get his right to vote back.
But when Tati joined the ACLU of Virginia’s class action lawsuit challenging Virginia’s constitution, which stripped anyone convicted of a felony of their right to vote, Tati paved the way for as many as 260,000 Virginians to get their voting rights back. Here’s his story.
I want to set a precedent for my kids, grandkids, nieces and nephews. I know I only have one voice, but that one voice counts.
Can you tell us a little bit about yourself?
Tati Abu King is a "simple man" who is fighting for his right to vote and a more just and fair Virginia where every citizen has a voice.
Photo: Phuong Tran
My name is Tati. I am a father of five, a grandfather, and a widower.
I am a good-natured person. I made some bad mistakes in my life that I pay daily for, ten times over, but the only thing I can do is try to make myself better.
I try to live by example so my kids and my grandkids could follow, in a positive way. I don’t want my kids and grandkids to follow in the footsteps I did. I want to be someone they can be proud of.
I am goofy at times. I can be shy at times. I could be angry at times. But I think that makes me who I am.
I love to cook. I love to read. I love nature. I love all types of animals. I don’t care if they are dogs, cats, birds, pigeons, or snakes.
That’s who I am. I am just a simple person. I am not extravagant. I don’t need a whole lot to make me happy. I can be happy in my own sense. Every day I wake up, my cup is full.
Why did you decide to join this class-action lawsuit?
I want to set a precedent for my kids, grandkids, nieces and nephews. I can’t tell them to go out and vote if I can’t do it myself. I want to set an example. The world is in uproar and chaos right now. It’s about trying to make things right.
I know I only have one voice, but that one voice counts. It might be that one vote that may count. And it might be mine. It might be my son’s and my daughter’s. Or it might be one of my grandkids’ somewhere down the line. I have a 13-year-old grandson. In five more years, he will be able to vote. So, why not set the precedent now?
Voting to me means that my voice is being heard. It means that I am fulfilling my obligation as a citizen of this state and of this country – to elect somebody who will be there and listen to my concerns, the concerns of my children, and what I want. I don’t want to be that person who is overlooked. I want to be heard. I want to be listened to.
What did your family think about your fight to get your right to vote back?
Tati and his father, Ricardo.
Photo courtesy of Tati King
I just love being around my family – my kids, grandkids, sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews, anybody in my family. I and my brother are extremely close. Same with my mom.
I lost my dad two years ago, who was my foundation. He set some ground rules in me that I never let go of. He instilled a lot of good things in me. He wasn’t the best dad, but he was a good dad. His name was Ricardo.
When I told my dad about the lawsuit, he said to me: “Tat, do what you need to do. It’s going to work out for the best for you.” And as I am looking at it now, it’s all working out for the best.
I still hear and see him. Whenever I look at myself in the mirror, I see my father and my grandfather. I did a lot of bad things in my life, but my father never gave up on me. And one of the things I am most proud of is that he never said he was disappointed in me. I’ve never told my children I was disappointed in them, no matter what the right or wrong they do. I try to stand by them, because that’s what my parents did for me.
What would you like to say to the person who is reading your story right now?
I’d like them to not only look at my record and think that’s who I am. I’d like for them to sit down and have an honest conversation to see the human in me.
That’s all I am asking. It’s not a whole lot – see my humanity.
I’d like them to see me, not only what I’ve done almost 40 years ago, but what I’ve done today, what I’ve done yesterday, and what I’m willing to do tomorrow. You can’t change the past. You can only correct the future. Give me the opportunity, take a chance on me. I am not the same person I was 37 years ago. That’s all I am asking. It’s not a whole lot – see my humanity.
