When I first started cultivating and cooking with weed nearly 20 years ago, it was largely in part due to San Francisco’s queer community. They propelled the 1996 Compassionate Use Act into law, giving terminally ill patients access to high-grade cannabis for alternative end-of-life care, sometimes in the form of brownies.
For decades, advocates from chefs to congresspeople have pushed for social equity, the backbone of a competitive and fair cannabis industry. Yet many of the Black and brown bodies who helped to establish the market for the same herb we freely enjoy in smoothies and elixirs are still behind bars.
There is a profound disconnect between the cannabis industry's progressive origins and its current corporate reality. While the market flourishes, longstanding structural inequities persist, leaving behind the marginalized communities who paved the way for legalization, compelling a deeper look at who truly benefits from this supposed green rush.
Kenya Alexander-Davis, a chair of DEI at the National Cannabis Industry Association, admits that the commitments for DEI have faltered. “Social equity has failed so many Black and brown people who were and still are depending on licensing to build a legacy,” she says. “The cannabis industry is just really tough for everyone, and the problems are even more difficult for marginalized people because of the trauma of its history.”
According to the Marijuana Policy Project, as of 2018, there have been approximately 32,000 people still incarcerated for cannabis convictions, despite its legal status in 24 states. (Marijuana is still illegal for recreational use at the federal level.) Many believe the number is likely higher due to murky legislation and data that’s usually difficult to measure. MJBizDaily’s Diversity, Equity & Inclusion in the Cannabis Industry 2023 report shows that women and femmes—often the innovators of crafting edibles and wellness tonics—hold 39% of executive roles, yet only make up 16% of entrepreneurship, highlighting a disconnect between representation versus power.
Black people make up roughly 2% of ownership and co-ownership in cannabis businesses. But the broader POC demographic narrowly increased from 15.4% to 18.7%, while queer-identifying people represent 14% of the industry, based on the most recent LGBTQIA+ cannabis workforce report.
All is not lost. Several regulatory bodies have responded to the call to easing barriers of entry for minority business operators by integrating equity programs into state and municipal policies. As of late 2025, a number of states—including Arizona, California, Maryland, Rhode Island and New Jersey—are already implementing solutions. These policies range from more accessible licensing applications to legal support and access to capital—and with noticeable progress in some areas.
Indigenous and First Nations numbers are the most encouraging: Over 100 sovereign nations have hemp cultivation and cannabis programs, up by 24% since last year, according to Forbes. New Jersey also shows DEI progress in which 46% of equity applicants are disabled-veteran and woman-owned—a 31% jump from established benchmarks, based on data from its Cannabis Regulatory Commission. However, overall stats for veterans and disabled individuals continue to be piecemeal, tracking with their invisibility both in conversations surrounding equity and basic accessibility.
Community workers cooking up initiatives at the center of DEI have felt a seismic shift. Kassia Graham, cofounder and managing director at High Exposure Agency, an equity-focused organization in New York, saw an immediate slow in motivation since late 2020. “Marginalized voices are fairly muted now, after people were ‘passing the mic’ to underrepresented voices,” Graham says. Within the queer space, Graham senses dissonance. “I often feel left out in queer spaces due to many being primarily white and cis male-centered. I’ve noticed the same dynamic in veteran-run spaces too.”
A few years back, many companies sang “Kumbaya” in unison with promises of diversity and inclusion. Some kept the measures in place and others wavered. Then came Project 2025, published in 2023 and widely circulated in the summer of 2024.
As promised in that mandate, hundreds of thousands of federal jobs were slashed—primarily for minority, Black women, and veteran employees. Suddenly, massive companies made changes. Corona/Modelo redefined their DEI programs to center smaller businesses. Meta announced an end to inclusive internal hiring in January. Goldman Sachs cut diversity requirements; CEO David Solomon said that the company will “reflect developments in the law in the US,” according to Reuters.
This has undoubtedly sent shockwaves through the cannabis space with investors and industry giants likely taking note. Black cannabis leaders state that there has always been less funding and respect for them. “Politics has emboldened people to say what they really think,” Alexander-Davis said. “When people think about DEI hires, they think the standards are lower when they’re actually higher.”
In spite of its long history, DEI has been misunderstood and vilified through the lens of race. But diversity encompasses other components as well: ability, age, religious practices, sexuality, gender, or veteran status. As legal scholar and director of the Meltzer Center for Diversity, Inclusion, and Belonging, Kenji Yoshino writes, “Talent is everywhere, opportunity is not.” Which is reflected in both a webinar from the MIT Sloan School of Management and an article by the Harvard Business Review, reinforcing that even in small doses, social equity in business is proven to drive a company’s ability for change—increasing profitability, income earnings, shareholders return, and revenue growth.
To some, diversity is viewed as a moment for invention that benefits both consumers and companies. This equates to better practices for growing healthier cannabis and thus safer products and options. For Nina Parks, cofounder of Supernova Women, a nonprofit empowering people of color to become self-sufficient shareholders in cannabis, that’s the spirit behind her other project, the Equity Trade Network. The group’s mission is to foster growth in the industry, through advocacy and working alongside lawmakers, regulators, and policy people charting a path toward financial success.
Rene Lima, a grower in Chicago who is set to inaugurate a cannabis education platform for Spanish-speaking seniors, spots a clear and promising pathway for DEI. “The entry for hemp-derived THC beverages has better potential for marginalized folks,” he says. “It’s a much more viable route nowadays.” He isn’t wrong: Cannabis drinks are one of the fastest growing and, frankly, fun categories in the industry as weed in general has outpaced alcohol consumption in the US for the first time ever.
As the evolution of diversity in cannabis continues to reflect wider cultural shifts, it leaves the industry at a crossroads. It can either follow other corporate leaders who are backpedaling on DEI, or continue on the path led by a pluralistic community of trailblazers who have always endured setbacks.
While emerging social equity efforts find its footing and alternative entry points into the industry present a way forward, will inclusion endure or will it be abandoned?