Areas damaged by drug war now seek boost from pot
Austin residents envision opportunity for justice from likely windfall
It didn’t take long for the community meeting on the impending legalization of recreational marijuana in Illinois to get to the point. “I’ve been over here all my life, and I was kinda thinking we have a bunch of liquor stores and … not one black(-owned),” said 59-year-old Jonathan Anderson, one of about 30 residents at the meeting organized by police in Chicago’s Austin neighborhood. “My question is once they get cannabis here, will you be fighting for us, for a minority to get a shot?”
Anderson was later corrected — an African American owns at least one liquor establishment in the impoverished neighborhood. But his point was well taken. Residents who have lived for decades in
the midst of the illegal drug sales on so many West Side corners are concerned their neighborhood will miss out on the potential financial windfall from legal pot sales.
The sweeping cultural change for the state goes into effect on Jan. 1.
While several existing medical dispensaries already have won licenses to sell recreational marijuana as well, many newcomers to the industry will be vying for 75 new dispensary licenses up for grabs statewide, including 47 in the Chicago area. The licenses are expected to be issued by May 2020.
Who obtains the new licenses will be closely watched, to see whether the law achieves one of its main goals: restore and boost the economy and opportunity in communities that have been adversely
affected by the war on drugs — from the resulting mass incarceration to the drain of financial resources.
The legalization law was written to give a distinct advantage to license applicants who meet one of three social equity criteria: They live in neighborhoods designated to have been disproportionately impacted by the war on drugs; they, their parent or dependent have been arrested or convicted of a marijuana charge that is eligible to be expunged under the law; or they employ at least 10 people, and half of the workforce meets the first two criteria.
Austin, one of the city’s largest communities that has endured decades of illegal drug dealing and street violence, is one of the designated areas.
A complicated and costly process
The Austin police district organized a series of forums on legalizing marijuana possession after community members raised questions about what recreational use would mean in Chicago.
At the panel last month, city, law enforcement and industry officials fielded a range of questions from the audience.
While carrying up to 30 grams of marijuana would be legal, officers cautioned that smoking weed won’t be permitted in public, including in parks.
A Cook County prosecutor explained that the law calls for mostly misdemeanor pot records to be automatically expunged from court records for convictions one year or older except for those that include other ineligible offenses.
Another resident asked how much dispensaries would pay their workers. A representative for one local dispensary said plans called for those who worked a minimum 30 hours a week to be paid $14.50 an hour for such jobs as “bud tenders” who handle over-thecounter sales.
The meeting had its lighter moments.
The industry rep tried to explain the dispensary’s role in the legal weed chain.
“We’re not the cultivator. We’re not the grower,” she said slowly.
A woman interrupted, calling out, “They’re the dealer.”
But the more serious question looming over the two-hour meeting was how residents could take part in this new financial opportunity.
Some had clearly already given up on such hopes.
“We don’t really have the ability as a community to purchase a dispensary,” Tara Rice, 51, a lifelong West Sider, concluded in frustration near the end of the discussion. “The reality is we’ve been blackballed out of the business because all of the dispensaries are already open.”
But in fact, officials said, applications for licenses to operate recreational marijuana dispensaries won’t begin to be accepted until next Tuesday. The sign-up period lasts until Jan. 2.
Since Austin has been among the neighborhoods designated to be adversely impacted by drugs, residents would almost certainly qualify for the social equity incentives, giving them a significant boost.
But Ron Holmes, who has opened a consulting business to help social equity applicants navigate the process, cautioned that obtaining one of the licenses will be complicated and extremely costly — into the hundreds of thousands of dollars at a minimum.
Still, Holmes urged residents not to give up.
“I am South Side born and raised. I am still very optimistic about the resilience of black folks,” he said. “It’s what we do. We’ve done it for generations. I think people who want to hustle still have an opportunity.”
Job opportunities at a minimum
Rice, who has lived in Austin for 13 years, had arrived at the meeting with a binder of notes and specific questions to ask about the license process.
Later, she told the Tribune that her neighbors in the recently restarted Quincy Street block club in Austin have been meeting regularly over all kinds of local issues, including legalization of recreational pot and what it means for the city.
Rice said she would welcome the opportunity to employ the young men in the area now working the illegal drug trade.
“Do you know how many kids we could get off the corners?” she said. “They have the know-how for it. They are entrepreneurs. … And this is a great opportunity economically. Get our young people to see the good side of business and that you can live a productive life legally.”
Many of the answers about how to get started in the highly regulated and controlled industry are buried in the 610-page state law. The Illinois Department of Commerce and Economic Opportunity is offering technical and financial support on its website to social equity candidates. In addition, the Illinois Department of Financial and Professional Regulation, which will issue the licenses, opened a public question period on its website and issued dozens of pages of answers on the industry.
While experts celebrate aspects of the law — especially the requirement that social equity applicants retain a 51% interest in dispensaries — they also expressed concern whether average, nonindustry people can overcome the complicated law and rules in enough time to benefit let alone find the necessary financial backing.
“I think the purpose of the social equity provisions was a noble one, but obviously in the execution of it, that is where we can run into problems,” said Bryna Dahlin, an attorney at Benesch Law who specializes in the cannabis industry. “The persons that have wanted to get involved who are social equity have really had to do a lot of legwork on their own. Reaching out, going to various events and trying to meet people. Reaching out to cannabis operators in other states.”
Officials at the Austin meeting urged residents to consider less costly or ambitious ways to benefit from the new legal pot market, including obtaining a license to transport cannabis — available next year — or simply seeking employment at a dispensary.
Ellen Lewis, 49, the operator of a small online business who asked about dispensary wages at the meeting, said it would be a shame if the biggest benefit for residents was only a chance at a dispensary job given the financial windfall the industry stands to make.
“The problem that we have, especially in our community, is there are a lot of people who come in and they set up businesses in our community and … take that wealth with them,” Lewis said. “If there were people who really live in the community and really give back to the community, (we might see) better wages and programs.”
Most people in the audience were older, longtime Austin residents. But the few younger community residents there said after the meeting that some young people, suffering from lack of quality education or jobs, have turned to illegal street drug sales to pay for everyday living expenses.
The idea that outsiders would now come into the neighborhood to work the legal marijuana market seemed unfair to them, but they didn’t write off the possibility of seizing the opportunity to join in.
“One thing about my community is we are adaptable,” said Clifton “Booney” McFowler, an Austin resident and street intervention specialist who attended the meeting.
“We have to be.”