Marijuana advocacy has always been a battlefield of the righteous, the delusional, and the opportunistic. For every real warrior grinding through legislation, education, and boots-on-the-ground activism, there’s a snake oil salesman taking selfies in front of The Genius at the Connecticut State Capitol, pretending they did something with their Facebook post.
I still get flashbacks—vivid, gut-wrenching deja vu—of the days when medical marijuana was on the legislative chopping block in Hartford. I was there. I saw the true fighters in the trenches, the ones who bled for progress. And I saw the frauds. The ones who showed up long enough to snap a picture, puff their chests out like they’d personally carried the bill up those marble steps, and then vanished like a puff of mids. And it still happens to this day.
These are the bad actors—the self-anointed messiahs of marijuana who never lifted a finger but still demand credit. They’re the ones who ghosted when it was time to testify, who conveniently lost their voices when lobbying got tough, but who somehow had all the energy in the world to post about their “crucial role” in the movement. If hashtags could legalize weed, these grifters might’ve been useful. But they weren’t. They were statues themselves—lifeless, ornamental, and devoid of real action. They’re still here, just new faces.
Meanwhile, the real workhorses of weed reform—those who met with lawmakers, those who sat through mind-numbing legislative sessions, those who fought tooth and nail to educate the masses—rarely get the credit they deserve. They don’t have time for grandstanding because they’re too busy actually making change happen. These are the unsung heroes. The ones who kept fighting when the cameras were off and the clout chasers had left for their next performance of “activism.” They’re still here, just new faces. And some old ones too.
Marijuana legalization didn’t just happen. It wasn’t the result of some social media hashtag marathon, or the selfie. It was—and still is—the work of relentless, dedicated people who don’t get statues, headlines, or viral posts. And yet, they keep grinding. Because that’s what real advocacy looks like.
As for the fakers? Let them keep posing in front of ‘The Genius’. The rest of us know who actually put in the work.
Keep it weird,
Author’s Note:
No names were used in this piece—partly to protect the innocent, but mostly to avoid giving any undeserved spotlight to the unworthy. If, by some cosmic coincidence, you read this and feel a creeping suspicion that I’m talking about you… I am.
