Laurie Erickson found herself in a predicament after her release from the South Boise Women’s Correctional Center in the summer of 2018. Having spent her time in prison completing treatment programs and working in the kitchen for just 30 cents an hour, she was determined to avoid returning to prison. “I embraced my husband, Stanley, right at the gates,” she recalled, as they drove away into the hot desert sun, with plans to stop for cigarettes even though Stanley disapproved. “I had earned my freedom.”

However, two years later, her decision to register to vote led to serious legal troubles. Now 53, Erickson is one of five individuals charged with election fraud-related offenses in Ada County, Idaho, following the 2020 presidential election. In total, there have been 19 similar charges across the state since 2016, including her husband’s.

Idaho is one of 14 states that strips voting rights from individuals with felony convictions, even after their release. In order to register, they must complete all terms of their probation or parole. However, many, including Erickson, claim they didn’t fully understand this requirement.

Experts have attributed the confusion surrounding voting eligibility to a complex mix of state laws, inadequate public education, and a failure on the part of government agencies to clarify the rules. The Brennan Center for Justice, a non-profit dedicated to advocating for voting rights, states that these laws deter eligible citizens from participating in elections. “An estimated 4.6 million Americans have lost the right to vote due to felony convictions,” they noted.

Erickson revealed that when she left prison, the Idaho Department of Corrections did not inform her about any restrictions on her voting rights. A spokesperson from the department later stated, “It does not appear that we make these notifications, but your inquiry has prompted us to look into this.”

Trouble struck in October 2020, when the Idaho Secretary of State’s office sent out voter pamphlets with registration forms to roughly 800,000 households, including Erickson’s. She and Stanley completed the forms, assuming they were eligible since the state had sent them to their home. “It asked if we had any legal disqualifications,” Erickson explained. The pamphlet stated that Idaho’s felon rights are restored automatically after completing all sentencing terms, including probation and parole.

Confusion over the language led them to successfully register and cast their votes for Donald Trump in the November election. But then, in April 2021, they learned Stanley had been charged with “illegal voting.” The couple faced serious consequences: an arrest warrant was issued, he eventually pleaded guilty to avoid prison, and was placed on probation.

While managing four jobs as an app-based delivery driver, Erickson’s past came back to haunt her when investigators knocked at her door in February 2022. “I felt horrible. I thought I could vote since the state approved my registration,” she said. Yet, her attempts to be honest about her misunderstanding did not sway the court. During her arraignment hearing, the judge asked if she had been coerced into voting, but Erickson maintained her innocence, saying she had voted with state approval.

Erickson ultimately pleaded guilty after spending four months in jail without a bond due to an alleged parole violation. “I couldn’t believe it,” she lamented, recalling how jail officials laughed over the absurdity of her charge.

Patrick Berry, an attorney from the Brennan Center for Justice, pointed out that the patchwork of voting restrictions faced by people with felony convictions often results in widespread misinformation about voting eligibility. “This affects not only those with past convictions but also government officials who may not fully understand their own laws,” he explained.

Erickson is still unsure why her registration was approved or why charges were filed two years later. Ada County’s prosecutor’s office noted that a monthly review of registered voters with felony convictions leads to referrals for legal action when individuals are found to have voted without meeting their sentencing obligations, regardless of an honest mistake.

Historically, disenfranchisement laws in the U.S. targeted newly enfranchised Black men after the Civil War. Today, Berry contends these laws disproportionately hurt people who are confused about their voting status.

The cases like those of the Ericksons have been increasing nationwide since the 2020 election. The Brennan Center argues that such trends intensify due to the politicization of law enforcement. For instance, Idaho’s Attorney General recently attempted to establish an office solely to address election crimes.

Contrary to claims about rampant voter fraud, research shows that it is extremely rare. Kendal Shaber from the Idaho League of Women Voters emphasized that confusion over voting rights is a common problem in Idaho, which has one of the highest incarceration rates in the nation.

“What shocks me about Erickson’s case is that she was actually prosecuted, and the consequences for her and her husband have been severe,” Shaber stated. Erickson’s friend, Mark Renick, who works in reentry services, expressed his disbelief: “The district attorney could have easily dismissed this as absurd, yet they chose to press charges.”

When asked about pursuing cases like Erickson’s, the Ada County prosecutor’s office responded that they had assessed all evidence and concluded beyond a reasonable doubt that the crimes occurred. Berry argued that these situations often represent honest mistakes rather than fraud.

For now, Laurie Erickson lives with the repercussions of her involvement in the political process. Reflecting on her experience, she expressed feelings of disappointment and anger. “I’ll never vote again,” she stated firmly. “I don’t trust the system. If they can wait two years to come after me, they can do it again, and I won’t give them a reason.”