By: Yasmine Ganemtore, Communications Intern
When I voted for the first time in the 2024 general election, I became the first person in my family to participate in the democratic process of this country. My parents immigrated here in search of better opportunities, but they never had the chance to vote in the United States. At home, conversations often revolved around news from our country of origin. There was love for our new home, but no road map to political participation in it.
Growing up as a first-generation American, I realized how unfamiliar American politics felt in our household. My parents valued fairness, hard work, and community involvement. However, they did not have the language or cultural knowledge to fully engage with voting and elections here.The civic education I received in school was also limited. I was not taught how to register to vote or how to evaluate a candidate. There were few discussions about policy or political platforms. I knew that if I wanted to understand how to participate, I had to seek out the information myself.
My Self-Directed Civic Education
That journey led me to civic engagement programs that shaped both my political awareness and sense of responsibility. In high school, I joined YVote, where I created educational content on topics such as environmental and criminal justice. These posts reached hundreds of young people on their social media platforms and helped me learn how to explain complex issues in a way that others could understand. I also worked with Next Generation Politics, where I produced similar content to encourage teenagers to reflect on social issues and take action. These early roles showed me how valuable youth voices are in shaping civic understanding.
As I gained more experience, I moved into more direct electoral work. Through some local organizations, I canvassed at polling sites and reached out to voters ahead of the New York primary and even assisted with campaign events and outreach for other later campaigns . Eventually I graduated to national organizations and was able to help mobilize students in Wisconsin to vote in the state judicial elections.
Voting With Intention
These experiences gave me the knowledge and confidence to vote with intention. I researched candidates carefully. I thought critically about policies affecting immigration, education, labor, and public safety—topics I cared about and that directly affected me. While my parents leaned toward the Democratic Party based on their own values and experiences as immigrants, I took the time to form my own understanding. I knew I had a responsibility to cast a vote that reflected both my family’s hopes and my own convictions.
More Than a Milestone
When I walked into the polling place, I felt the significance of that moment. I was not just completing a civic duty. I was participating in something my family had never done before. I was building something new on the foundation they had laid. My vote represented a transition: from inherited experience to active citizenship.
Eager to Vote, Naturalized Citizens Face Barriers to Access
According to a 2022 report from Demos, naturalized citizens are less likely to vote than native-born citizens not because they are apathetic, but because of barriers like language differences, confusing registration systems, and limited civic outreach. The report shows that once registered, naturalized citizens vote at nearly the same rates as native-born citizens. The issue is not desire, it is access and support.
The population of naturalized and first-generation voters is also growing rapidly. A 2024 analysis by the Pew Research Center found that one in ten eligible voters in the United States is now a naturalized citizen. In states like California, Texas, and New York, that number is even higher. These voters are diverse, engaged, and eager to be heard. Still, the report notes that many face ongoing structural challenges when trying to vote, particularly those who speak languages other than English or lack access to translated voting materials.
Joining the Conversation
When I finally cast my ballot, I was aware of all these realities. My vote was a result of research, mentorship, and community work. It was also a statement that first-generation Americans belong in the conversation, and that our stories are part of this country’s ongoing democratic experiment. I felt like I was contributing to something larger than myself.
Today, I study political science in college, driven by the belief that civic education and voting access should be a right, not a privilege. I want future first-generation students to walk into the voting booth prepared and confident. I want schools to teach the practical tools of democracy. I want more community organizations to show up for young people who may not have civic mentors at home.
To be a first-generation American during election season is to build your civic identity from scratch. It means balancing your family’s values with your own understanding of the world. It means showing up, asking questions, and refusing to be left out. It means finally having a voice in a system my parents could only watch from the sidelines.
