Washington D.C. resident Joel Caston made history this week when he became the first incarcerated elected official in the capital city.
The 44-year-old was elected an advisory neighborhood commissioner for district 7 in Southeast D.C., reported NBC News. Caston’s constituency covers the Harriet Tubman Women’s Shelter, a new luxury apartment complex and the D.C. Jail, where Caston is housed. He bested four other incarcerated inmates for the position after receiving 48 out of the 142 votes cast. All but one of the ballots were submitted by inmates at the jail.
The election came less than a year after the District gave inmates the right to vote.
“I feel presidential,” Caston told The Washington Post. “But it’s not about you. It’s about the work you do.”
The Washington native originally ran via a write-in campaign in late 2020, but he was disqualified due to a discrepancy about his residency history. Caston arrived at the D.C. jail in 2016 after serving time in federal prisons.
The seat was created years ago, but this is the first time it was filled due to logistical issues connected to serving as an elected official while doing a bid. Caston will receive a laptop or tablet and have 24-hour access to the internet to fulfill his duties.
Caston has been incarcerated for 26 years for a murder he committed when he was 18 years old.
Despite his captivity, he has made the best of time behind bars. He is a Christian worship leader, memoir author and founder of the Young Men Emerging mentorship program. The mentorship program pairs younger people with shorter sentences with older inmates.
He plans to continue his advocacy as a commissioner and hopes to distribute a survey to get feedback from his constituents.
“I think my first job is to listen, to listen attentively,” Caston told DCist. “If I’m going to be a voice for the people, I have to hear the people. It’s not so much what I want to do, but what the people want me to do.”
He also wants to be a possible model for other people in the system.
“My role, my assignment, my purpose is to let people know that while you’re inside, you can think about political science, you can engage in civic matters, you can do these things as incarcerated persons,” he said. “Then what happens is we get an idea inside our brains: ‘Wait a minute, I may be incarcerated, but my voice still matters.’”
Caston will likely be released in six months, but his freedom will cost him the seat. He plans to find a place to live within the district when he is out.
