“Just got our cannabis seeds!”
If there’s one text I never thought I’d receive from my mom, this was it. As you’ve probably heard by now, marijuana has been officially legalized in Washington, D.C. Of course, there are plenty of regulations. No selling to others, no smoking in public and no more than 12 plants in the home. To usher in the new law, D.C. played host to a seed-sharing expo this weekend, where hundreds of people lined up to begin cultivating their gardens. And in these lines were — you guessed it — my middle-aged parents.
I realize that, given this fact alone, you probably have an image of my parents conjured up in your mind. Everyone has a friend with these kinds of parents. The forward-thinking, “make your own mistakes” type that bare a striking resemblance to Amy Poehler’s “cool mom” from “Mean Girls.” I assure you, these are not my parents.
Of course, my parents were never overly conservative. They’re liberal, progressive people, but their approach to parenting has been fairly run of the mill. In high school, I got in trouble for drinking, had a midnight curfew and was grounded on several occasions. There were definitely times when I wished they would loosen up. So what are my garden variety parents doing at a weed expo? I’ve never even seen them drunk.
The legalization of marijuana in several states has certainly been controversial. Stoners have rejoiced, conservatives have protested and high school seniors have applied to Colorado universities in mass amounts. One of the most shocking things about the change, however, is the utter normalcy of the people involved. We expect hackie sacks, tattoos and white people with dreadlocks. And there are plenty of those, but the majority of supporters are less like the cast of “Wayne’s World” and more like, well, my parents.
Since its introduction to American culture by Mexican immigrants in the early 1900s, recreational marijuana use has always been met with protest. It’s been (falsely) linked to violence, crime, insanity and a host of stereotypes throughout the years. In the ‘60s, it became a popular form of counterculture, along with psychedelic rock and bell-bottoms. Even now, mainstream society tends to look at marijuana users as lazy and unmotivated, despite the fact that most people — including U.S. President Barack Obama — will try it at least once while growing up.
The question left unanswered is what this gradual legalization of the drug will mean for its symbolism. If any person over 21 can buy and use marijuana at their leisure, does it lose its countercultural appeal? It happened with alcohol in the 1930s. When Prohibition ended, the need for bootleggers and speakeasies quickly faded, and alcohol became a common feature of most American homes. Does this mean we’ll soon be celebrating our 21st birthdays with a trip to the dispensary instead of the bar? Probably not.
For one thing, there’s still a long way to go before marijuana can be fully integrated into American culture. It’s still illegal on a federal level, and only four states have legalized it for recreational use so far. And even in these states, there are very strict stipulations about what one can do with one’s weed. So, while it may have become less stigmatized in those places, the majority of weed in America is still sold off the record and at high school parties.
Some may fear that my story is a classic example of what I like to call “parental appropriation.” We’ve all experienced it: our parents adopting our sayings and trends, thereby making them definitively uncool. Does legalized weed risk meeting the same fate? The short answer is no. What sets marijuana apart is its history. Though we may feel some individual claim to it, weed isn’t something that began with us. It’s gone by many names and survived multiple “war on drugs” campaigns. It can’t be stolen by our parents because it wasn’t ours (or theirs) to begin with.
If there’s one thing that legalization can teach us, it’s that we’re not as different as we may think. Hopefully, the hundreds of people lined up in D.C. this weekend showed a lot of naysayers that marijuana isn’t just for dropouts and Snoop Dogg. Even if we eventually lose weed as a form of counterculture, what we gain in return is the de-stigmatization of people who use it.
My parents are not stoners. I think that, for them, this is more of an experiment in gardening than anything else. The idea of smoking a joint with them definitely freaks me out more than, say, sharing a bottle of wine. But if they can embrace the change, maybe we can all stop pretending it’s such a bad thing. And if you’re from the D.C. area, ask your parents what they did this weekend.
From your picture and by doing a little math, I’m guessing that your parents and I are from about the same era. None of us can steal it from each others’ generations, because it’s been there for all of us. By the by, if you do smoke a j with them, please post about it. I think a lot of home tensions could be dissolve away by grown kids and their parents laughing together on the back porch.