GEAR AND GROWING IN THE ASHES OF PROHIBITION
Improving on the precedents sets by other states
Massachusetts did not emerge from marijuana Prohibition blinking and squinting like a mole. The sleeve tats and sportcoats, the survivors and celebrators who filled Quincy’s Tirrell Room for the End of Prohibition Party on December 15th revealed a mature subculture ready to bloom. Beyond the jubilant sights and smells befitting a cannabis coming-out party, the night’s emphasis on innovation and social justice showed the community’s sober commitment to a higher cause.
To understand why the social justice component of legalization is so important, consider the reasons for its prohibition in the first place, and then compare them to the other Prohibition in America’s history. Reducing crime and corruption, stemming the overflow of prisons, solving health crises, curing social ills. Oddly enough, these motivations for the “noble experiment” of alcohol prohibition in 1920 sound very similar to the rallying cries of the modern cannabis activists. To this group, the ulterior and racist motives of the government’s marijuana laws have been blatantly crooked from the get-go. To whit: “Reefer madness”, conflicts of interest (from the timber, tobacco, alcohol, and pharmaceutical industries), government-sponsored falsehoods propagated through the D.A.R.E. program… even how the subtle and persistent use of the term “marijuana” instead of “cannabis” was meant to convey dubious Mexican undertones. Many of the agents of change bent on undoing that damage- at least in Massachusetts- were right there in the room.
A policeman watched the front door, and when he poked his head into the party he saw a room of (suddenly) law-abiding citizens. There was a line for the bar, white linen tablecloths, buffet table, and passed apps. If he was surprised by the highly evolved level of technology and equipment at the other end of the hall by the vendors’ tables, or by the bushy mother plant squatting inside a grow tent, he didn’t let on. A dapper guy in a tie rolling (and giving away) joints attracted a small crowd, as did an extract company setting up free hits of hash oil. The policeman’s former adversaries in the Black Market were now industry experts, and following the letter of the law by gifting the cannabis, not selling it.
It would be hokey to say that Mary Jane was the star of the evening, especially since those honors belonged to Shanel Lindsay, the event’s organizer. Like a few others there in attendance, she helped write the ballot initiative whose effects everyone in the room was feeling. Unlike anyone else there, she is a lawyer, patient, advocate and inventor. Her faith in cannabis is rooted in science and experience, and so is her business, Ardent Cannabis. The story of her startup marries entrepreneurship and social justice in a microcosm of the cannabis industry itself: an enterprising woman of color patents an easy to use decarboxylator (a kind of specialized oven that heats the marijuana until it bioactivates), thereby opening up a world of safe access for cannabis patients.
“You don’t need to know how to make aspirin to cure a headache,” she reasoned, pointing out how difficult it is to cook cannabis efficiently using traditional home-brew kitchen techniques, how easy to get the dosage wrong.
While she was the most outspoken and visible industry leader, a wealth of others vied for peoples’ eyes (with attractive set-ups) and hearts (with appeals to sustainability and social justice). For example, the night’s sponsorship by Cannacare Docs affirmed the need to keep medicinal and recreational separate, for best access for patients. MCR Labs didn’t just tout its high-tech THC testing facilities, it appealed to the loftier goal of consumer education. Now that a household can legally grow up to twelve plants, the market for growing equipment appeared both ripe and socially conscious: the lighting systems were never simply strong, they were also “long-lasting,” or “locally-invented,” or “high-efficiency.”
Improving upon the precedent of other recreational states, part of Lindsay’s and her co-author’s efforts specified that prior marijuana convictions would not preclude involvement in the brave new world of recreational sales. As the night’s disco ball brought some of the state’s former Black Market players into the spotlight, anyone expecting the grand reveal of a seedy underbelly would have been pleasantly surprised. The industry’s newly legitimized key players shared a level of consciousness and savvy that defied stereotypes.
When asked about his personal feelings about the night, the lone police officer demurred. But he did offer a lament for the night’s biggest losers: an entire work force of K-9s who would soon be unemployed.
