“I grew up in white suburbia in Macomb, Michigan. When I think about my upbringing, the main word that comes to mind is privilege. Sure, my family is Arabic and Muslim, but I pass as white and don’t practice Islam. Everything about my life showed privilege: my house, my school, my friends. I had little to no concept or recognition of the race and class struggles that existed within the United States. My surroundings and history books were all I knew, but there were a variety of defining moments that started to put things into focus.”

I was 10 when 9/11 happened, and my grandma, who wears a hijab, started getting death threats in public.

I was 13 when I started to question my sexuality and became acutely aware of the hate that was directed at LGBTQ+ people.

I was 16 when my friends and I wanted to start a Gay Straight Alliance at our school, and not a single professor would sponsor us for fear of losing their jobs.

At 20 years old, I read The New Jim Crow, which was my first exposure to the vast racial inequalities in our criminal justice system.

When I was 22, I moved to DC to work at a political consulting firm called Stones’ Phones that was doing Telephone Town Halls for Initiative 71, the campaign to legalize adult use cannabis in DC. Initiative 71 was the first cannabis legalization campaign in the country with messaging around racial justice, that motivated me to pursue a career in the cannabis industry.

Marty Stone, who is the founder of Stones’ Phones was instrumental in my transition to the cannabis industry. He supported and encouraged me to work with cannabis legalization and criminal justice reform campaigns across the country.

“I was blown away at the market potential for a legal cannabis industry, while simultaneously distraught that the people who were posed to benefit most were white people, after decades of criminalizing Black and Brown people for doing the same thing.”

In 2015, I started a chapter of a women’s business networking organization called Women Grow in Washington, D.C. I was blown away at the market potential for a legal cannabis industry, while simultaneously distraught that the people who were posed to benefit most were white people, after decades of criminalizing Black and Brown people for doing the same thing. I made it a point to weave this language and messaging into our chapter’s platform.

For me, criminal justice reform starts with acknowledging that the system is rigged for white people. Then, it is taking action to continuously re-work that system, including the one in our hearts and minds...and bank accounts. White people need to be doing the life long inner work of accepting that racism is ingrained into our culture and conscious, and calling out friends when they say or do something they know is wrong. It is also important to me that we are re-distributing our wealth by giving expendable income to Black and Brown individuals, families, activists, and artists.

Legalization through any other lens than racial justice is a crime. People profiting off the backs of Black and Brown people who are still in prison and suffering lateral consequences of having been in prison is a crime. Ensuring there is equity in the regulated cannabis industry is vital, but that is not enough. We need to release people from prison, we need to clear their records, we need to ensure they have access to the resources (mental health, job, voting, etc.) they need to get back on their feet. 

“We need to release people from prison, we need to clear their records, we need to ensure they have access to the resources (mental health, job, voting, etc.) they need to get back on their feet.”

I first met Caroline Phillips, the founder of the National Cannabis Festival in 2015 when she came to one of my first Women Grow meetings and told me she wanted to throw a cannabis festival. I had never met this person in my life, but her passion and vision were intoxicating. She knew I wanted to be a part of cannabis advocacy, and after my first year supporting the National Cannabis Festival advocacy committee she gave me the reins. Over the past 5 years, whenever I needed professional (or personal!) advice, she was always happy to listen and talk. She saw something in me and took me under her wing – and I am forever grateful for that!

The evolution of NCF’s advocacy and policy program has been an honor to help build. I can’t say there is one moment that sticks out to me, but more so many moments in which or advocacy partners have and continue to show us love and support, and us them. The first year of the festival, it was difficult to get any response from lawmakers participating in our programs. Today, lawmakers are reaching out to us. Similarly, national organizations that I couldn’t have dreamed of participating in year one, are now a part of our advocacy committee.

My work with Women Grow also introduced me to Dr. Chanda Macias, CEO of National Holistic Healing Center. She was one of the first avid supporters of the DC Women Grow chapter. I feel incredibly grateful to have grown from Chanda’s mentorship.

In 2017, Giadha Aguirre de Carcer, the Founder & CEO of New Frontier Data, gave me my first full time job in the cannabis industry. Her zeal and determination were nothing short of inspiring. Through my work at New Frontier, I was fortunate to meet John Kagia, Chief Knowledge Office. John is an analytics and research genius with a level of kindness that is hard to believe exists, he remains one of the best supervisors I’ve ever had.

“If we can be kind to ourselves, it makes it a lot easier to be compassionate towards others.”

I care deeply about what others think and aim to please. That being said, my therapist recently told me I need to practice trusting myself more. Trusting what’s in my heart, trusting I’m doing the best I can, trusting I treat myself and those around me with kindness, trusting that I am a human being with flaws and am constantly learning and evolving. If we can be kind to ourselves, it makes it a lot easier to be compassionate towards others.

There is a race war in this country, and it has caused unquantifiable pain and suffering for too long. Today, I do my best to use my privilege to undo the violent and oppressive systems that have evolved over time.