“I grew up in South Eastern Connecticut. My parents are both Puerto Rican’s who met in New York City, although my Mom was born in Puerto Rico. They left the city and moved to Connecticut once I was born, so I had a mostly low income suburban life, but my mother was a very strong woman who made a special focus to teach me about how power works in society, what the law, teachers, politicians were really about.” 

This led me to seriously question every institution that sought to hold me down right up to when I was arrested for simple cannabis possession, thrown out of school and into the criminal justice system. Luckily I had a strong mother to advocate for me and eventually got back on track but that experience turned me into a life long activist to end the war on drugs which was clear a war on my community. 

“The moment I felt the cold steel of handcuffs on my wrist I knew I was going to dedicate myself to the movement for Cannabis justice, even if I didn't fully understand it at the time.”

The moment I felt the cold steel of handcuffs on my wrist I knew I was going to dedicate myself to the movement for Cannabis justice, even if I didn't fully understand it at the time. The desire by High School administrators to humiliate three 16 year olds just felt so evil. Like they enjoyed punishing us. Then the way the police treated us - both physically violent but also mocking us at the same time - was the strike. Finally, once I saw the court rooms full of black and immigrant defendants and white prosecutors, it became abundantly clear that this was a racialized racket to help white folks make money off incarcerating black and brown people. 

When I was in college I ran for student body president with a close friend and we lost. At the start, someone suggested that my friend who was a pretty well loved white woman should have been president and myself as VP or campaign manager. They were 100% correct as my personal history of directly confronting problems made many enemies along the way. Had I swallowed my pride we probably would have won and I would have been in a position to implement policy. 

“The lesson I learned was optics matter and winning is more important than making a point. No matter how right you are, without power you will always be fighting an uphill battle.”

The lesson I learned was optics matter and winning is more important than making a point. No matter how right you are, without power you will always be fighting an uphill battle. Ever since then I have been working as a campaign manager for progressive candidates and see directly how the game of politics is twice as much about creating power behind the scenes as it is about public relations. 

I didn’t think of cannabis as an “industry” until legalization started happening and the controversial Ohio bill for legalization came out with that the white dude from 98 Degrees (Nick Lachey) as one of the leaders. He was going to own a vertically integrated company but zero people of color would have a chance to do the same thing. I had been working to end the death penalty for many years before that and it was that hypocrisy that pulled me back in and ultimately the opportunity to help found the Minority Cannabis Business Association.

I’ve been fortunate to have a strong and supportive network of allies in cannabis advocacy and industry. Shaleen Title (Massachusetts Cannabis Commissioner); Kayvan Khalatbari (he has too many accolades to list at once so I’ll just say co-founder of Denver Relief Consulting); Amber Senter (Co-founder of Supernova Women and owner of Congo Club Cannabis); Jazmin Aguiar (President of The Working Group); Jessica Gonzalez (Cannabogada); Frances Gonzalez (Latinas Cannapreneurs) and Nelson Guerrero (Co-founder of the Cannabis Cultural Association).

“I remain disgusted at who currently is allowed to sell cannabis and who goes to jail. It’s such a clear preferential treatment for rich white men, many of whom actually arrested people like me, that it’s sickening.“

Through my work in this space, ownership and equity have remained of paramount importance. Last year, I spoke in Bogota, Colombia to a crowd of high profile investors and Spanish speaking cannabis organizers for the Cannabiz Latino Hub organized by Carol Ortega of MUISCA capital. It was the first time I had spoken to a non U.S. audience and my content was addressing the need for international equity programs, which is controversial, especially to a crowd of investors. I remain disgusted at who currently is allowed to sell cannabis and who goes to jail. It’s such a clear preferential treatment for rich white men, many of whom actually arrested people like me, that it’s sickening. 

We are replicating the exact same disparities of the drug war in the industry and I’m going to fight every day to change that. 

About Jason Ortiz, President, Minority Cannabis Business Association:

Jason got his Bachelors degree in Public and Community Engagement from the University of Connecticut. He has been fighting to end the war on drugs since he first heard the words “School to prison pipeline”. He has worked on a number of progressive campaigns, both issue-based and electoral, with victories electing Strong Progressives to the School Board of Durham North Carolina, and changing drug policy law in CT.

About the Minority Cannabis Business Association:

Founded in late 2015, the Minority Cannabis Business Association (MCBA) is the first 501(c)(6) not for profit business league created to serve the specific needs of minority cannabis entrepreneurs, workers, and patients/ consumers. The organization currently serves members from across the United States. Its 15-member board of directors is comprised of a diverse group of cannabis industry veterans and activists from across the U.S.