For most Americans, voting is a routine act of civic participation. For Tati Abu King, it is something he has waited more than three decades to do.
This November, King will cast a ballot for the first time in his adult life following a landmark voting rights victory secured by WilmerHale, Protect Democracy, and the ACLU of Virginia. The litigation successfully challenged Virginia’s longstanding felony disenfranchisement regime, opening the door for hundreds of thousands of Virginians to regain access to the ballot box.
The significance of the victory extends well beyond a single election cycle. As detailed in a recent Q&A with WilmerHale Partner Brittany Amadi, the litigation advanced a novel application of the Virginia Readmission Act of 1870 and may provide a framework for future challenges to similar restrictions in other states. For King, however, the case’s legacy is measured in people rather than precedent.
King was one of the plaintiffs whose experiences helped bring the case to life. When he first received a call about joining the lawsuit, he was skeptical.
“I thought it was spam,” he recalled. “I really didn’t think it was going to go anywhere.” But as he learned more about the effort and the coalition behind it, he decided to participate. “I had nothing to lose.”
Years later, when the court ruled in favor of the plaintiffs, the victory felt almost unreal.
“I’m 55 and never, ever in my adult life have had a chance to vote,” King said. “We got the court order and I was like, okay, it’s finally done. It’s finally done.” Yet even now, he says the full impact may not sink in until he actually enters a polling place and casts his ballot.
For King, the case was never only about restoring his own rights.
“It wasn’t just about me,” he said. “I did it for people who are still in the system, who just came off the system, who might go in the system. To let them know, don’t get dissuaded. You still have your rights.”
Throughout the litigation, King said he was not only struck by the firm’s commitment to the case, but also by how deeply the team involved him in the process.
“They never excluded me from any decision-making,” he said. “They knew it was my life. They laid everything out for me. If this doesn’t work, we can go this way. If this doesn’t work, we can go that way. They had contingency plans upon contingency plans. Some people would give up. They didn’t.”
One moment in particular stays with him.
“I felt worthy,” King said. “I felt seen and I felt heard. Nothing I said was overlooked.”
His hope is that others who have long felt excluded from the democratic process will understand that their voices matter.
“People always got overlooked,” he said. “They heard them, but they didn’t listen to their concerns. You have to listen to these people now.”
When King finally enters the voting booth, he says he will be thinking of his father, who did not live to see the conclusion of the case.
“He’ll be the main one on my mind,” King said. “When I cast that ballot and get to choose the person who I feel is really going to listen to my voice—that’s the power of democracy.”
For King, the right to vote carries both responsibility and possibility. It is a chance to help shape the future for his children and grandchildren, and is a reminder that meaningful change often begins with people willing to stand up for others.
Reflecting on the years-long litigation, he offered a simple explanation for why pro bono work matters.
“You’re reaching out to people who need help and don’t know how to get it,” he said. “When you have lawyers who take their time and give their heart to people who need it, there’s nothing better than that.”