Nelson refused to be told ‘no’

Joyce Nelson has never been one to accept “no” at face value.

Not when a cotton field owner told her she couldn’t help tally the books, not when a hiring manager questioned her ability to lead, and certainly not when courthouse officials tried to turn her away from registering to vote at 18.

Eight decades into a life shaped by persistence, Nelson now channels that same determination into helping others claim the rights she once had to fight for by serving as a poll worker and voter rights volunteer across north Alabama.

Nelson’s journey began in Russellville. She graduated from historic Reedtown High School before continuing her education at the University of South Alabama, but her earliest lessons in work and perseverance came long before college classrooms.

As a teenager, she and her brothers picked cotton to help supplement their family’s income.

“We picked lots of cotton,” she said. “That was the way we helped our parents.”

Workers were paid by the pound, hauling heavy sacks through long days in the fields. Nelson did the work, but she also paid attention to what happened after. At day’s end, the cotton was weighed and recorded before workers were paid. Nelson became curious about the bookkeeping and asked the field owner to let her help.

“Being told ‘no’ pretty much energizes me,” she said with a laugh.

She kept asking until he relented. Soon, she was recording weights and helping calculate pay.

“That’s how I started in business,” she said.

In 1972, Nelson entered the manufacturing workforce, launching a 35-year career that would include management roles — positions she had to fight to be considered for.

During one early interview, she remembers being scrutinized and asked what made her think she could do the job.

“I had been looked up and down. I didn’t have on designer clothes, but I knew that I wanted to do something besides just working the factory,” she said, recalling the encounter. “He looked at me with that attitude over those glasses. I knew I didn’t have nothing then, and he probably wasn’t going to hire me anyway. So, I got up, and I looked back at him, and I said, ‘What makes you think I can’t?!’ Then I was hired.”

That resilience, she said, was rooted in her upbringing and the confidence instilled by her parents, particularly her mother.

“My mom always told me, ‘You are who you are because God saw favor in you,’” Nelson said. “That carried me.”

Nelson grew up in an Alabama defined by segregation and daily indignities.

“I grew up with all the Alabama prejudices,” she said. “White and colored fountains, food handed out the back doors at restaurants, and always being watched in stores and other places just because I was a Black woman. I was always judged by the color of my skin and gender.”

It was a reality that nearly prevented her from obtaining her right to vote when she turned 18.

“It was very humiliating,” she said. “Back in that day, you went to the courthouse, and you were automatically dismissed. You’d hear, ‘What are you coming in here for?!’ Not knowing if I had had the backbone to do what I needed to do, but I knew I had to vote. So, I went back in and eventually got my way.”

Years later, she would cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, walking in memory of those who died fighting for voting rights— a moment that deepened her commitment to civic participation.

Her path to becoming a poll worker began after she moved to Florence in 1992 through job transfers that had taken her from Russellville to Mobile and back again.

Around 2000, she went to vote—and noticed something troubling.

“I went to the poll, I looked around—and number one—there were not many people there who looked like me,” she said. “Number two, I saw a lot of people coming in who looked discouraged, not knowing what to do.”

Some were turned away over address changes or paperwork errors. Others simply didn’t understand the process.

That year, Nelson went to the judge’s office and applied to become a poll worker. After being assigned to a district, she began working election days.

“Now, you work long hours. It’s not convenient,” she said. “Once you get there, you cannot leave, and some of the polling places have no microwaves or refrigerators in their facilities. You’re there 12 hours from the time polls open to the time they close.”

The long hours didn’t bother her.

“Remember, I picked cotton,” she said with a laugh. “So, I know what it is to work a long day on a sack lunch.”

Health challenges forced her to step away briefly, but she returned to the role she considers a form of service.

Poll workers, she noted, cannot tell people how to vote — but they can help them understand forms, procedures and eligibility requirements. To aid her in that work, Nelson keeps voter materials in her car and frequently pulls up registration information on her phone to assist voters quickly.

Her advocacy extends far beyond the polling place.

Nelson is active in the NAACP, where she has served in leadership roles across chapters in Russellville, Mobile and Florence. She also chairs her local chapter of the Alabama Democratic Conference (ADC), a statewide organization focused on voter education, registration and political unity.

“I’m not good at being a silent member,” she said. “I worked my way up, so to speak, and I was elected five years ago.”

Through trainings, community events and outreach efforts, she works year-round to help residents verify registrations, update addresses and prepare for upcoming elections.

“We keep educating,” she said. “We keep registering people to vote.”

Among her most demanding volunteer efforts is voter rights restoration — assisting people with felony convictions as they navigate the process of regaining eligibility.

“It’s a long, drawn-out process,” Nelson said. “I see why people do not challenge it. You get worn out.”

She meets clients at courthouses, works with parole officers and helps them prepare documentation. Transportation barriers, hearing delays and bureaucratic hurdles often discourage applicants.

One woman Nelson worked with had not voted in 20 years despite completing her sentence and having paid her fines.

“We worked. We showed up. We went through all the setbacks. She would call me and say, ‘I’m through. I’m done,’” Nelson said. “There’s no such thing as done. We’re no quitters.”

Following the 2024 general election, Nelson received a letter from the woman along with the sticker she’d received, “I Voted.”

Though her work in voter rights restoration is unpaid, instances like those help Nelson see her volunteer efforts differently.

“Every day of my life, I get paid,” she said. “I rejoice in that.”

Those stories and the people she meets continue to motivate her.

“I feel like I need this,” she said. “It’s about that service. I need to help.”

She encourages others to become poll workers despite the long hours, emphasizing the importance of community presence inside polling places. While her work is rooted in the civil rights struggles she witnessed firsthand, her focus today is broader.

“It’s not Black or white anymore,” she said. “All of us are struggling. So, we have to unite and push this thing forward, knowing change is going to come. Freedom is not free. So, we’ve got to keep working.”