Pubdate: Wed, 12 Sep 2001 Source: San Francisco Bay Guardian (CA) Copyright: 2001 San Francisco Bay Guardian Contact: http://www.sfbg.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/387 Author: Elizabeth Hille Note: Elizabeth Hille is a writer based in Oakland. Cited: Lindesmith Center http://www.drugpolicy.org/ Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?179 (Nadelmann, Ethan) WHO SMOKES DOPE? On The Front Lines In The War On Drugs. I SMOKE POT. I could probably be ID'd as a pot smoker in a crowd, but come to think of it, in almost all crowds someone has a joint. It was ironic, then, that I recently found myself, a proponent of the decriminalization of all drugs, in one of those rare jointless crowds when I attended a lecture by the pied piper of the drug reform movement, Ethan Nadelmann. He'd come to San Francisco to speak at the S.F. Medical Society. As I waited for Nadelmann to take the stage, I overheard a conversation between two conservatively dressed, barrel-chested white men in their late 50s. The one with the curly white beard said to the other, "So my kid asked me, 'What's the difference between a pothead and a pot smoker?' " "And what did you tell her?" asked the one who looked a lot like Santa. "Well, I told her that a pothead's life is all about pot, whereas a person who smokes marijuana does other things with his or her life. They contribute to society. They are active. They're passionate and compassionate thinkers." Nadelmann: Legalization's Poster Boy Even among people who get high or drop or roll or whatever, there's a need to distinguish between what one is and what one isn't. Pothead, pot smoker, patient, drug user, junky: it matters what word is used and with whom. Image and phrasing count, just as they do in the world of advertising. Unfortunately, this need to differentiate can lead to setbacks in getting progressive legislation passed. It seemed that the people in this crowd had come to hear Nadelmann because they don't think adults should be punished for what they put in their bodies. I'm sure the new head of the Drug Enforcement Administration, Asa Hutchinson, doesn't hold this belief, since he has promised to enforce the federal ban on selling medical marijuana. But these people, most of whom were members of the affluent intelligentsia, were ready to fight for their right to puff. Standing in that room, it seemed to me that these mostly white, mostly middle-class types were so pissed off about our current war on drugs that they might be inspired to change our ineffective laws, as well as stereotypical images of who uses drugs. For instance, respected public figures such as George Soros, the billionaire bankrolling the Lindesmith Center's Drug Policy Foundation, are proponents of drug-law reform. Too bad Soros isn't on any public service billboards. Nadelmann, too, should be on a billboard; he's practically a poster boy for drug-policy reform. Nadelmann started the Lindesmith Center with Soros. By the time he was 31, he'd already worked for the DEA and been a Princeton professor. He doesn't look like a drug-policy reformer, and indeed, one of the issues he and the Lindesmith Center are working on is changing the public image of what drug users and drug reformers look like. If that image changes, so might the country's abstinence-only attitude. And this development could lead to the end of the war on drugs. In his speech Nadelmann stressed how the Puritan spirit is still strong in the United States. He said, "In the minds of many Americans, the approval of drug use, of any kind, means that we have to acknowledge that people use drugs, and many Americans would rather ignore this fact," he said. Following this logic, abstinence is the only alternative. This, of course, is the motto of the expensive and ineffective war on drugs. In the United States drug offenses make up one-third of all federal criminal cases, according to the Department of Justice. While countries such as Canada and the U.K. seem to be moving toward the decriminalization of marijuana, the United States is still busy fighting the war, with Hutchinson calling the shots. Most of the countries in the European Union have already made marijuana consumption legal. And some of those E.U. countries have even gone as far as decriminalizing small amounts of other drugs, such as heroin, as well. "Junkies are the new persecuted group," Nadelmann argued. "Historically we, as a culture, have needed to put our fears onto someone who is an 'other.' " He explained how our society has persecuted religious minorities - women, people of color, and queers to name a few. Though this prejudice hasn't completely ended, Nadelmann said, we have delegitimatized attacks on those groups. Junkies and drug users are a new kind of other. Putting someone down by calling them a junky doesn't earn you a skeptical look, an admonishment, or even a head shake, Nadelmann pointed out. Perhaps, Nadelmann suggested, if we change the way we talk about drugs and drug use, we can change people's minds. Nadelmann ended his lecture by reiterating that "advocacy is not about self-statement; advocacy is about communicating." The Problem With Prop. 36 While the recently passed Proposition 36 (which would put drug users in rehab rather than in jail) is a step in the right direction for those advocating drug reform, a recent guideline passed in Oakland takes reform a step backward. A few weeks ago the Oakland City Council cut in half the amount of medical marijuana patients are allowed to have. Before the reform, medical patients were allowed six pounds of marijuana a year. When the rule goes into effect Nov. 15, patients will be allowed only three pounds a year. This compromise might ease the minds of some councilmembers and the cops, but for some patients, like Angel McClary, this severe cut will mean halving their medicine. McClary says the new law is a "death sentence." She is president of a patient-outreach company called Angel Wings and has been an activist for medical marijuana reform. A middle-class mother, she needs to smoke pot or else her health deteriorates rapidly. The first thing I noticed about McClary was how skinny she is. She told me she weighs 95 pounds on a good day; on bad days she has to ingest spoonfuls of nasty pot oil so she can eat. She has a brain tumor, endometriosis, scoliosis, seizures, and a wasting condition. Her marijuana prescription is considered a medical necessity. This means that a doctor has decided there is no other legal alternative that would meet her health needs. Before she started smoking medical marijuana, McClary was in a wheelchair. "What's worse?" she asked me. "If my kids cry because they see me suffering, or if I eat a [pot cookie] in front of them?" For the Oakland City Council the answer isn't so obvious. According to her doctor, McClary needs to medicate every two hours, which means she requires two ounces of pot a week, or six and a half pounds a year. "I don't even get high off this stuff," McClary said. It's just medicine. Under Oakland's new guidelines, patients can get more pot with a doctor's permission, but then the doctor might face legal repercussions. When the law goes into effect, McClary says, she's going to have to choose between "my life and civil disobedience." McClary is worried about her own future, but she's also concerned about how the guidelines will be enforced by Oakland's police department. Hers is a valid concern, given the department's record of unfair practices. And now, with Hutchinson ready to enforce the federal ban, things could get far, far worse for medical marijuana patients in Oakland and the rest of the Bay Area. McClary's case is a prime example of what Nadelmann meant when he exhorted his audience to offer a more realistic picture of who takes drugs and why. Apparently, however, the image of emaciated people in pain isn't enough to convince Oakland's City Council or, it seems, Asa Hutchinson. - --- MAP posted-by: Richard Lake