Politicians, such as Miami-Dade Mayor Carlos Alvarez, make sure they vote in elections. But what about everyone else?

I moved to Miami in the year 2000, shortly before the Bush vs. Gore presidential election blew up in our faces. One of my first local journalistic experiences was standing outside the County Hall building in downtown Miami, watching a media circus the likes of which I had never before witnessed. I didn’t realize then that Miami throws a media circus at least a couple of times a year with clowns and everything.

That year I voted for Ralph Nader, not so much because I believed in him, but because I couldn’t get into either the Republican or the Democrat running. I wanted to support the Green Party’s attempt to make a third party relevant in American politics. Like a lot of people my age, I considered the two-party process boring and rigged. At that point in my life I was more interested in figuring out how to get into South Beach clubs without paying.

When I cast my Nader vote I figured, maybe I’m wasting my vote, but it’s not like it matters. Who knew the Bush presidency would rest on fewer than 600 votes in Florida? If the revelers in one Beach megaclub had turned out for Gore that year, what a different world this would be now.

I’ve spent the last seven years writing about politics in the greater Miami area for various publications. Year in and year out, it’s the same story. A handful of the usual suspects (plus one or two grass-roots candidates who usually don’t have a shot) hires someone from the small group of political consultants who run nearly every local election.

The winning candidates (with a few notable exceptions) raise the bulk of their money from businesses that depend on public official largesse for their livelihoods. In Miami, this generally means developers, real estate agents, construction companies, lawyers, bankers and companies seeking service contracts with the political entity in question.

The political campaigns then use that money to fund advertising, some of it atrocious anonymous mailers accusing opponents of everything from drug dealing to child molesting to, worst of all sins, being a Castro supporter.

The money also goes to round up the usual voting suspects. These are generally the elderly, who live in assisted living facilities, condos or certain targeted neighborhoods. That money goes to gatekeepers who ensure that Candidate X gets full access and Candidate Y does not. In some cases these folks are driven to the polls. In others, their votes are collected by helping them fill out absentee ballots.

This system has been in place for a long time and that’s why the same bunch of inadequates (again, with some exceptions) keeps getting elected. It works, time after time. It works because most of the rest of the populace doesn’t vote.

In a typical local election when there’s no presidential contest, 10 to 15 percent of registered voters turn out. Even Miami Beach, which is supposed to be the most progressive municipality around, produces abysmal voter turnout.

Consider: Last November, Jerry Libbin became a Miami Beach commissioner with 2,110 votes, just 213 more than his opponent. In total, just a tad more than 4,000 people bothered to vote. The turnout didn’t even crack 10 percent. If you go back and look at the statistics for several years’ worth of elections, the numbers are similarly dismal.

I don’t mean to malign Libbin in particular. But with such low participation, what incentive does any politician have to think broadly about the needs of a diverse community? This system encourages politicians to please a narrow constituency, which includes campaign-contributing businesses whose interests sometimes run counter to those of good government.

The problem is not them. It is you and me. We’re not voting. We’re not paying attention. So, this year, I’ve decided to do something about that.

Along with Celeste Fraser Delgado, with whom I co-founded the online magazine Category305.com last year, I’ve started a modest campaign to double the voter turnout on Miami Beach in 2007. The SunPost has agreed to give me space once in a while until November to rant about this issue. If we can go from 10 percent to 20, we will show the political establishment that we are paying attention. I think one of the many reasons people don’t vote locally is that it is simply not something anyone they know talks about. People talk about what they’re driving, what they’re wearing, who they hate at work and maybe who they’d like to date. What the mayor is up to is just not important.

Our first event was at Jazid, a club on Washington Avenue, where DJ Le Spam and the Spam Allstars were playing at the club’s 11-year anniversary party a couple of weeks ago. We set up a table and talked several dozen young voters into filling out an absentee ballot request form. This is one of the ideas — to go where the people are and engage them.

When we talked to people about why they vote and why they don’t, the responses ranged from hilarious to depressing. As one woman we met that night told us, “This is the perfect crowd [to target]. They have lofty ideals, but they don’t show up at the polls.” 

We will also be working with GenerationEngage, a nonpartisan civic group working to connect with young voters nationwide. They’ve hooked up with Miami Dade College, among other organizations, to connect the youth with local and national politics.

Other events Delgado and I are planning for later this summer include a “Take a Politician Bowling” night and “Beach Ballot Bingo.” We’ll also be doing limo rides to the polls and red carpet exit polling, among other nutty stunts. The idea in general is simply to have fun, connect with people and get them thinking about local politics. Most people, when they think about politics at all, think nationally. Few realize that the local pols often have a bigger effect on their daily lives, through their decisions about zoning, police, fire, water use, roads and other services.

As we go along, we’ll document the process in a tone somewhere between painfully earnest and Daily Show cynical. I’m hoping we can show it’s possible to wake this town up and make it ours. Otherwise, maybe I’ll go back to ducking the velvet rope at the clubs.

Anyway, I’m interested in what you think about this. If you’d like to respond, ask a question or participate, e-mail me. And stay tuned.