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The Evolution of Cannabis Legislation: Impact and Change in Black, Brown, and Latino Communities

Cannabis. For some, it’s a booming business. For others, it’s a reminder of what was taken.

For decades, Black, Brown, and Latino communities — especially those in over-policed and underfunded neighborhoods — were criminalized under drug laws that disproportionately targeted them. Cannabis wasn’t just a plant; it was a reason to stop, search, detain, and dismantle families. That legacy still lingers, even as legalization reshapes the landscape.

While legalization represents progress, it hasn’t brought equal opportunity. The communities most harmed by prohibition are too often locked out of the legal market. This isn’t just about fairness — it’s about repair. It’s about access. It’s about transforming a billion-dollar industry into a platform for justice.

Historical Context: Cannabis Criminalization and Its Roots

The criminalization of cannabis was never about public health, it was about control. In the early 20th century, anti-cannabis rhetoric fueled xenophobia, particularly toward Mexican immigrants. The 1937 Marihuana Tax Act, widely considered the first federal cannabis crackdown, was used to target immigrant laborers and Black communities under the guise of regulation.

By the 1970s, the War on Drugs accelerated this pattern. Under the Nixon administration, cannabis was falsely classified as a dangerous substance on par with heroin. This reclassification wasn’t coincidental, it was strategic. As a Nixon aide later admitted, the goal was to suppress anti-war and civil rights movements led by Black and Brown leaders.

For decades afterward, cannabis became a pretext for mass policing. It justified stop-and-frisk, raids, and arrests that fed an expanding prison system — especially in low-income Black and Latino neighborhoods. The damage was deep and lasting.

The War on Drugs and Its Lasting Impact

From the 1980s into the early 2000s, cannabis enforcement became a central tool in racially biased policing. Black Americans were nearly four times more likely to be arrested for possession than white Americans, despite comparable usage rates. Latino communities, already grappling with systemic inequities in housing, education, and healthcare, were also over-policed and over-sentenced.

These weren’t just arrests — they were turning points. A single cannabis charge could block access to jobs, public housing, education, and even the right to vote. Families were disrupted. Entire neighborhoods were destabilized. While white Americans often walked away with warnings, communities of color faced life-altering consequences.

Recent Legal Reforms: Progress with Caveats

Today, cannabis is legal for adult use in over 20 states, and more allow it for medical purposes. Expungement laws have begun clearing records for non-violent offenses. Social equity programs are taking shape, aiming to help individuals from criminalized communities enter the legal market.

States like California, Illinois, New York, and New Jersey have pioneered efforts to prioritize equity applicants and implement automatic expungements. These policies acknowledge past harm and aim to shift the narrative.

But the reality is still uneven. Many remain incarcerated for cannabis-related charges in states where cannabis is now legal. And even when records are cleared, entry into the industry remains difficult. Startup costs are steep. Licensing is complex. Capital is hard to access. Many landlords refuse cannabis tenants, and banks often won’t lend.

As a result, the legal cannabis industry remains overwhelmingly white and corporate — far removed from the people it once targeted.

The Road Ahead: What Real Reparative Justice Looks Like

Legalization is just the beginning. True justice demands repair.

That means creating real, tangible opportunities for Black, Brown, and Latino communities to build wealth, launch businesses, and reclaim what was taken. Some states are starting to reinvest cannabis tax revenues into communities most affected by prohibition — funding housing, youth programs, mental health services, and job training.

But too many equity programs still fall short. Despite good intentions, they often run into structural challenges:

• Cumbersome application processes that require legal expertise

• High upfront costs with little or no financial support

• Limited guidance for navigating state and local regulations

• Minimal outreach to non-English-speaking or immigrant communities

As a result, the same people once punished under cannabis laws are now being shut out of the legal industry that replaced it.

Inclusion Requires Access — Not Just Permission

Despite the growth of the cannabis economy, minority ownership remains staggeringly low. Social equity programs — designed to provide capital, training, and licenses to impacted individuals — are a critical foundation. But without infrastructure, they risk becoming symbolic.

What’s needed are real pipelines: grants, technical assistance, mentorship, and business incubators that convert access into ownership. Too often, those most harmed by prohibition are left navigating a complex system with limited support, while those with money and connections seize the market.

That’s what makes New Jersey’s approach a standout. The New Jersey Economic Development Authority (NJEDA) introduced one of the most ambitious and practical equity initiatives in the country. The Cannabis Equity Grant Program offered $20 million in direct funding to eligible entrepreneurs, with priority given to individuals from areas disproportionately impacted by cannabis enforcement. Just as importantly, it provided free technical assistance and mentorship — helping applicants navigate the costly and confusing startup process.

This year, NJEDA expanded its commitment with a $5 million boost, making New Jersey one of the first in the world to match equity rhetoric with scalable infrastructure. It’s a model that other states should study — and replicate.

True equity will require sustained political will, better-designed legislation, and a commitment to learning from what works. If cannabis is to become a tool for economic justice, we must ensure it is not only legal to enter the industry — but realistically possible for historically excluded communities to own, operate, and thrive.

The Bottom Line

Cannabis legalization isn’t the finish line. It’s a fork in the road.

One path leads to a familiar outcome: profits for the privileged, exclusion for the rest. The other leads to something better — repair, opportunity, and ownership for the communities most harmed by the War on Drugs.

Black, Brown, and Latino communities have waited long enough. Legalization must be more than policy, it must be a platform for economic healing.

The cannabis industry has the potential to be one of the most inclusive and restorative sectors in the country. But equity won’t happen by accident. It has to be built — deliberately, collaboratively, and with justice at the center.

Herban Conversations: “Carrying the Culture - The Leafcase Story”

Shannon, founder of Leafcase, joins us on Herban Conversations with a powerful story at the intersection of parenting, healing, and cannabis innovation. As a medical patient and mother, Shannon's path into the industry wasn’t about hype — it was about necessity.

In this episode, she shares how her personal journey led to the creation of Leafcase, a sleek, child-resistant cannabis packaging solution designed with everyday users in mind. Shannon opens up about the stigma she’s faced, her fight for parental rights in dispensaries, and the legal hurdles of protecting her vision through intellectual property.

We also get into the deeper disconnect between cannabis “industry” and “community,” and why education, design, and intention still matter in a space obsessed with speed and scale.

Herban Conversations gives you the stories behind the brands shaping culture with purpose. This one’s for anyone building outside the blueprint — and doing it with heart.

👉 [Listen to this episode]

From Exotic to Exploited: The Hype, History, and Hustle Behind Zaza

There was a time when calling weed "exotic" meant something simple: rare, hard to find, and top quality. But over the last few years, that language has evolved into something stickier, flashier, and more complex. Enter: Zaza. In hip-hop lyrics, smoke circle conversations, and Instagram captions, "Zaza" has become shorthand for the best of the best. But behind the hype is a layered story of culture, co-opting, confusion—and in some cases, danger.

This week, we’re breaking down what Zaza really means in today’s cannabis culture: where it came from, how it's used, and why some of what’s being called "Zaza" today might be more about marketing than quality.

What Is Zaza? 

Zaza isn’t a strain. It’s a vibe. It’s a word that has come to represent top-tier, high-potency, sensory-forward cannabis. Think: sticky, bright, gassy, candy-like, loud. Zaza started as slang for "exotic," passed through variations like "za-tic" and "za," and eventually became its own cultural term.

It typically refers to:

• High THC content (20%+)

• Complex aroma and terpene profile

• Dense, colorful buds with visible trichomes

• Small-batch or rare genetics

In short, if someone says they’re smoking Zaza, they’re talking about the loudest, prettiest bud on the table.

Cultural Origins and Spread 

The rise of Zaza is tied closely to hip-hop and internet culture. Rappers like Future, Moneybagg Yo, 21 Savage, and Migos dropped references to Zaza in bars that helped codify it as a premium cannabis experience. Social media memes and influencers did the rest. By the late 2010s, Zaza was more than a slang term—it was a status symbol.

From Exotic to a Flavor Category 

Initially, Zaza was just another way of saying "exotic." But over time, especially in regional scenes and certain demographics, the term began to represent a more specific terpene and flavor profile: candy-forward, fruity-gas strains like LCG, Runtz, and Gelato cuts. In some markets, Zaza became a category of its own, defined by sweet, synthetic-leaning aromas that were eye-catching and nose-smacking.

That shift opened the door to a new issue: the rise of fake Zaza.

The Rise of Sprayed and Synthetic “Zaza” 

As demand for Zaza grew, so did the shortcuts. Unregulated players and underground brands began marketing low-grade or mid-tier cannabis as "Zaza" by mimicking the look and smell of popular strains. Some of this was just branding inflation. But in more concerning cases, the cannabis was actually sprayed or terpene-enhanced to artificially replicate the loud, fruity gas smell that defines real Zaza.

In certain urban markets, this created a wave of what’s been dubbed "fake Zaza" or "sprayed Zaza" — cannabis that's been altered with synthetic terpenes or other unknown additives to pass as exotic. While some companies even promoted these products as terpene-infused or flavor-enhanced, these practices are not safe and not recommended for consumption. No matter the terp profile, safety has to come first.

ZaZa Strain vs. Zaza Slang 

To make things more confusing: there is a specific strain called ZaZa (Scott’s OG x Gas Station Bob by South Bay Genetics). But when people refer to Zaza in everyday conversation, they’re usually talking about a class of flower—not that specific genetic line. It’s important to distinguish the term from the strain, especially when evaluating quality.

Zaza Labels Can Be Misleading 

As Zaza's popularity exploded, the label itself lost consistency. Today, you might see the word slapped on a mylar bag, a distillate cartridge, or even a synthetic pill (see: tianeptine being sold as "Zaza Red"). It’s buyer beware out there. Consumers should always look for lab results, source verification, and trusted producers.

The Takeaway 

Zaza is more than just a word—it’s a cultural code for quality, flavor, and potency. But like all trends, it’s being copied, diluted, and commodified. If you’re looking for real Zaza, focus on the flower’s genetics, cultivation, and terpene authenticity—not just the packaging or the name.

And if you’re seeing brands push "sprayed" or terp-enhanced flower? That’s not Zaza. That’s marketing masquerading as quality. The best bud still speaks for itself.

📡 On Our Radar

Cannabis Banking Reform Not a Priority, GOP Sponsor Says
A top Republican senator says marijuana banking reform isn’t on the agenda until fall, delaying progress on financial access for the industry.
Hemp‑THC Drinks Spark Rapid Growth and Regulatory Pushback
This booming $30 billion market faces mounting scrutiny, with more than 80 state legislatures considering new restrictions to curb unsafe sales.
Cannabis Policy Under Trump 2.0: 2025 and Beyond
Reuters examines how a second Trump presidency could impact DEA rescheduling, banking access, and federal cannabis reform efforts.
Texas Governor Vetoes Hemp‑THC Ban, Calls for Regulation
Governor Abbott vetoed SB 3, favoring regulation over prohibition, and scheduled a special session on hemp-derived THC oversight.
Celebrity Cannabis Seed Venture Launches
B‑Real, Method Man, and Mike Tyson team up to introduce a global cannabis seed line—melding culture, genetics, and celebrity influence.

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