​When people ask why I’ve spent more than three decades registering voters and working to strengthen civic participation, I don’t begin with politics.

I begin with Mission Hill. As a young boy, I shined shoes in my neighborhood. Those humble beginnings taught me the value of hard work, perseverance and community.

Mission Hill was not simply where I grew up. It was where I learned the power of community and organizing.

My mother was one of the founding members of the Roxbury Tenants of Harvard in Mission Park. Years later, I became the organization’s Youth Director. I went on to become Executive Director of the Mission Hill Community Centers, which, at its peak, was one of the best family service centers in the country.

I lived and worked in Mission Hill, serving families and young people and learning that when communities come together, they can create opportunities and change lives.

Eventually, my journey took me from Mission Hill to Beacon Hill.

While serving in Governor Deval Patrick’s administration, I lived on Bowdoin Street on Beacon Hill and worked for the governor inside the State House, directly across the street from where I lived.

I had gone from shining shoes as a young boy in Mission Hill to working inside the State House for the governor of Massachusetts.

That journey taught me something I have carried with me throughout my life: Where you begin should never determine whether your voice is heard.

Over the years, I have worked across corporate America, community-based organizations, city and state government, and the clergy. Wherever I worked, I kept coming back to the same fundamental question:

Does my voice really matter? That question became even more urgent during the Charles Stuart case in Boston. For many Black men, the case and its aftermath reinforced fears about racial profiling and how Black people could be treated by institutions of authority. Then came the Rodney King verdict, which sent shock waves across the country. Practices such as stop-andfrisk further deepened mistrust between communities and law enforcement.

For me, these were not simply news stories. They were reminders that communities need more than frustration and anger. They need organization, education, political participation and the power to make their voices heard.

That is why I founded Dunk the Vote in 1992.

Our mission was straightforward: turn frustration and anger into civic engagement.

We registered voters and distributed American Civil Liberties Union materials addressing racial profiling and “Driving While Black,” helping people understand their rights and encouraging them to participate in the democratic process. The connection between civil rights and voting rights was clear to me then, and it remains clear to me today.

More than three decades later, that work continues.

Today, I also distribute The Black Book, a community resource guide designed to help people understand their rights and access important civil rights information. The tools may change, but the mission has remained remarkably consistent: empower people with knowledge and give them the tools to participate.

And I have seen firsthand why that participation matters.

In 2006, I worked on Deval Patrick’s campaign for governor. There was tremendous enthusiasm among voters who wanted change. But in some communities, polling places ran out of ballots. That experience reinforced something I had already learned: encouraging people to vote is only part of the job. We also have to make sure our systems are prepared to receive them.

In 2019, I worked on Julia Mejia’s Boston City Council campaign. After a recount, she won by one vote.

One vote. That experience brought home something I have told voters for decades: every vote matters.

I also worked on the campaign for Question 2, the ballot initiative concerning the MCAS graduation requirement. Whatever one’s position on the policy, the campaign demonstrated the power of giving citizens a direct opportunity to participate in shaping public policy.

These experiences have shaped my belief that democracy cannot simply be something we talk about every four years. It has to be something we practice every day.

That means registering voters.

It means educating our children about civic responsibility.

It means churches, community organizations, schools, businesses and neighborhood leaders creating spaces where people can learn about their rights and responsibilities.

And it means making sure people have meaningful choices when they enter the voting booth.

I worry when communities become so accustomed to uncontested or heavily tilted political races that voters begin to believe their participation cannot change anything. When people believe an election is already decided, they may stop showing up altogether.

I am not suggesting that incumbents should not seek reelection. They should. My concern is making sure our political system remains open to qualified community members who want to step forward and serve.

After more than 30 years of this work, I remain hopeful.

I have seen what happens when people believe their voices matter. They vote. They organize. They lead. They teach their children. They encourage their neighbors. And sometimes, as we learned in Julia Mejia’s race, one vote can make history.

From Mission Hill to Beacon Hill, my journey has reinforced one simple belief: democracy works best when people believe they have a place in it.

Justice is in my bones. Liberation is in my spirit. Organizing is in my DNA.

That is the democracy I still believe in — a democracy where every community has a voice, every voter has a fair opportunity to participate, and every person understands that their voice and their vote truly matter.

Ron Bell is the founder of Dunk the Vote, a Massachusetts civic engagement organization founded in 1992 that has helped register more than 100,000 voters. He served as Senior Advisor for Community Affairs in the administration of Governor Deval Patrick and has spent more than three decades working across corporate America, community-based organizations, city and state government, and the clergy to strengthen civic participation and community leadership throughout Massachusetts.

Good morning everyone. Thank you to Linda Monteiro, Gillian Hinkson, Charlotte Golar Ritchie, and all the members of the Committee for inviting me here today.

For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Ron Bell, and for the past five decades, I’ve been on the ground, in Boston, around the Commonwealth, and beyond, fighting this great fight for justice and equality.

Now, I’m not afraid to date myself like that, because today I want to take a look at where we are, compared to where we have been, so we can talk about what we need to do now, to get to where we need to go.

In 1992, I started Dunk the Vote as a response to what happened in Boston’s Black community in the aftermath of the Stewart Case.

37 years later, and we’re still talking about the same problems – widespread discord in the relationship between law enforcement and Black people. Between law enforcement and immigrant communities.

When Stephenson King, a Dorchester resident, was shot dead by a Boston Police Officer just two months ago, I had to wonder, along with many in the community, what progress have we really made. And when nine Allston Car Wash workers were chained up and taken away by over 20 masked I.C.E. agents, without even being given the chance to show their immigration paperwork, I found myself wondering, what have we gotten so wrong that our friends and neighbors have to suffer these blatant and violent civil rights violations.Back in 1992 we used to give out racial profiling packets made by the ACLU to folks traveling through the town of Milton because it had the highest rate of racial profiling traffic stops in the Commonwealth. Today, that is no longer the case in Milton. That campaign, combined with many other parallel efforts, made a big difference.

In 2026, Dunk the Vote is connecting the most at-risk among us with another tool to navigate today’s fraught environment. The Black Book. This is a resource. It is an implement that is transferable, convenient, and durable. It contains vital information on knowing your rights, and resources to help when they are violated. It covers the key areas of Civil Rights, Voting Rights, Immigrant Rights, Racial Profiling, and Police Brutality. And its most important quality is that it is accessible to the people who need it most. It meets people where they are at.

I want to re-emphasize that last piece. Meeting people where they are at, on their own terms.

If there is anything you take away from here today, I want it to be that. Because that’s how you win.

It’s how we did it on Deval Patrick’s campaign when I was a senior advisor and we put him in the Governor’s office in back-to-back elections.

It’s how we did it when we put my cousin Tito Jackson on the City Council twice.

And for Julia Mejia’s campaigns for City Council, when we won, both years…guess what. We got out in the neighborhoods, in the barber shops, we knocked on doors. We met people where they were at.

And in the historic election of President Barack Obama in 2008, we teamed up with now-United States Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley to reach out directly to Black churches to get out the vote.

So, the question is, in the face of all that lies in front of us, with so much division, opposition, and confusion, what do we do?

My answer to that question isn’t complicated, and it isn’t flashy. But it does take commitment. And it takes resources. And it takes a long term commitment. Because you have to show people that you’re real, and that the work is real.

Build an on-the-ground organization like we did in 2006 and 2010, in 2011 and 2013, in 2019 and 2021. Invest in people. PAY your people. Volunteers are great, but for reliable results you can’t expect people to work for free. Especially when they are pounding the pavement and knocking on doors all through the year. Yes that’s right, the whole year.

This July, Dunk the Vote is starting its Get Out the Vote campaign months before anyone casts a ballot – we’re not waiting until November or September. Because the impact you make by being there year-round, and not just when it’s election season, is on an entirely different level. And in today’s environment, trust is at an all-time premium.

We’re meeting people where they are at. Talking about the issues that matter most to them. On their timeline.

I’m sure you know this, but people are leaving Massachusetts at a higher rate than any other state in the union. That’s dead last, 50 out of 50.

Over the past 4 years, an organization I co-founded called Real Talk held conversations with hundreds of people across the Commonwealth whose voices aren’t the loudest at the decision-making tables. We used cutting edge technology to process and parse these conversations. And one thing came out as by far the dominant concern.

What do you think it was? I’ll tell you, it’s the same reason young people are giving for leaving the state.

I will tell you this – if we aren’t out in the neighborhoods, in the barber shops, on college campuses, in the churches, in the community centers, talking to people about our solutions to the fact that no one can afford anything in this state, then we’re making a huge mistake.

It is time to hold Real Talk-style conversations with people to make sure they feel heard, to learn directly from them what it is they care about. We need to be sharing our solutions and our resources with people who need them. This is how we engage new people, and it’s how we bring people back to the party. We need to rebuild relationships, and it needs to both be and feel grassroots. It’s the same playbook Dunk the Vote used to register over 100,000 voters over three decades of basketball tournaments, door-knocking, and one-on-one conversations.

Instagram posts are seen once and then scrolled by. The Black Book stays in your pocket. A text message is sent to the spam folder. A knock on the door is an opportunity to have a real dialogue.

In today’s America, the same rules do not apply to everyone. You can storm the Capitol and get rewarded with a $1.8 billion dollar slush fund for breaking the law. You can lose your voter protections with the drop of a gavel. Which is why we need to build our network, without shortcuts.

It is time that we put away our phones, lace up our Adidas, and get out on the doors.

Massachusetts is a cold state. And I’m not talking about the weather. People aren’t talking to each other. People are leaving.

That’s an opportunity.

We connect with people directly. We expand the tent. We keep people here by making it affordable. We give people the real resources they need to be safe. These are the issues of the people the party has a hard time reaching – young people, Black, Latino and underserved communities.

We build out the ground-game. We fund our teams year-round, to develop relationships and the trusted leaders of tomorrow. We hit the ground, now. We meet people where they are at. We make the network strong and resilient. And then, we follow up. Again and again. Until we win.