MJ BIZ Too many white owners in cannabis industry will result in no-social justice.Talk is cheap.
I attended MJBiz for the first time last year in 2023 , and my gosh, it was overwhelming. I couldn’t believe how much the cannabis industry has evolved since I was last on the West Coast in 2004. Back then, I remember going to California and scoring d Mexican “green” brick weed. The “green” part was really important in 2004. Fast forward to Las Vegas in 2023, and the excitement of returning to see MJBiz was almost too much to handle.
I was there volunteering for the wonderful group Freedom Grow, armed with my story of spending eight years in prison for cannabis at age 21 is a first time felon. My mission was simple: visit every booth and solicit funds from companies profiting from cannabis, urging them to support Freedom Grow—a proven non-profit that ensures nearly 100% of donations go directly to inmates incarcerated for cannabis and their families. MJ BIZ Las Vegas seemed like the perfect venue for this cause: MJBiz, the biggest, brightest, and best marijuana business show in the world.
A Walk Through the Cannabis Industry’s Evolution
As I walked in, I was amazed and hopeful. I couldn’t believe how far the cannabis industry had come since 2004, when I was traveling to Los Angeles and Las Vegas, stuffing motorhomes and U-Hauls with Mexican brick weed—green Mexican brick weed—destined for Minneapolis. The transformation was astounding.
However, as I explored the booths, a stark reality set in. The overwhelming majority of booths were subsidiaries of larger companies, essentially pivoting to sell their line of products in the cannabis industry. I’m talking about the companies selling grow lights and chemicals—massive corporations like the biggest sponsor of MJBiz, a lighting company. These companies showed absolutely no interest in supporting the non-profit. They didn’t even seem to understand why people care about incarcerated cannabis inmates. From what I observed, these mostly white-owned and staffed companies at MJBiz appeared disconnected from the mission of criminal justice cannabis reform.
The Human Side of the Cannabis Industry
Next, I approached the small to medium-sized businesses, those that spent close to $8,000 for a 10×10 booth. How did they react to my attempts to raise funds for inmates incarcerated for cannabis? The reactions were mixed.
Minority business owners—Black and Brown entrepreneurs—spoke to me like I was a hero. They brought me into their booths, exchanged numbers, and genuinely forged deep connections. Together, we discussed how we could help inmates in prison, make money, and change cannabis policy for the better and to this day we are still working with minority companies to help inmates incarcerated.
On the other hand, the response from white business owners in the cannabis industry was less encouraging. As a white 42-year-old male, I can sadly admit that my social conscience was awakened only after spending eight years incarcerated in federal prison, alongside my Black, Brown, and Asian brothers—most caught in the same struggle against outdated and racist federal drug policies.
The Power of the Cannabis Consumer
But there is hope. The cannabis consumer—the very people who drive this entire industry—loves cannabis inmates. They wholeheartedly support products owned by former cannabis prisoners and are eager to back companies that support inmates still serving time for cannabis. This demand from cannabis customers is slowly but surely influencing white cannabis business owners, and I hope it will lead to more social equity and reparations for my brothers and sisters still incarcerated.
As my good friend Parker Coleman, who is serving 60 years in Beaumont Penitentiary for cannabis charges, says: “I am a prisoner of war. Other companies profiting off marijuana should do the right thing and help me while I am inside this cage and can’t help myself.”
One last thing I want to convey is this: If an individual—whether a politician, a CEO, or even a former law enforcement officer—was hard on cannabis policy 20 years ago, even if they put people in jail or enforced those outdated laws, they can be forgiven. But that forgiveness comes with a condition: they must genuinely and consistently work to help my brothers and sisters who are still incarcerated for cannabis. I spent eight years in prison at the age of 21 for cannabis, and my perspective on this issue is crucial. We need these former enforcers of harsh cannabis laws to step up. They know the intricacies of the system and have proven themselves as fighters for justice. We forgive their past actions because we desperately need their help to bring our people home from federal prison.