The power of language is extraordinary. When arranged correctly, words have the ability to enlighten and motivate us — as well as move us to tears. Our perception of the world is greatly influenced by the associations we attach to language.

Since we are always involved in some sort of dialogue, internally and externally, certain word choices are often made subconsciously. My obsession with language rarely offers a break, but I recognize it as abnormal. Language, delivered through music and literature, has been the most-profound influence in my life.

Language’s influence on cannabis counterculture has always fascinated me — and now that recreational legalization has brought it to the mainstream, I think it’s important to become much more conscious in choosing the way we speak about it. But with a limited lexicon to identify cannabis as a wellness product separate from a recreational drug, major strides in removing the stigma surrounding medicinal cannabis will be completely obscured by the marketing of recreational retailers who have chosen to stick with the old, familiar slang and symbolism of a shameful era not worthy of preservation.

Separating wellness terminology and symbolism from slang is essential in retaining public perception of the plant’s health benefits. If used interchangeably, it will be more and more difficult to differentiate medical and recreational cannabis.

The first step is referring to the plant by its actual scientific name — cannabis. I realize there is a pretentiousness attached to doing so -- however, when put in context to the history behind its most commonly adopted nickname, “marijuana,” I think it’s all right to sound a bit lofty. The origin of the term “marijuana” has long been debated, but its solidification into American culture has not. It was Henry Anslinger, the first drug czar appointed by the FBI in 1937, who popularized the word.

As part of his “Reefer Madness” anti-immigration campaign, Ansliger used the term because of its Hispanic sound. A famous bigot and prohibitionist, he utilized a new popularity in film and other new media to spread his fear-based propaganda to the youth. Graphic cartoon-like images of both African-Americans and Mexicans raping and murdering picturesque white American families while high on “Devil Weed” were so absurdly over the top, it’s hard to fathom their success in fueling Anslinger’s war on what he called “the most violence-causing drug in the history of mankind.” That same year, the plant was made illegal in the United States.


And now, long after Ansinger’s death, his hateful words live on within the cannabis counterculture. I think it’s time we move as far away from this ugly chapter in history as we can.

The visual element associated with cannabis is arguably of equal importance as language in distancing cannabis for wellness from recreational use. Until now, cannabis has been represented by the same graphic — the iconic leaf. This symbol has been so prevalent in our mainstream culture, any hopes of its redemption are absurd. Successfully detaching this image from recreational distributors may be nearly impossible at this point, as data from the United States Patent and Trademark Office reveals that 44 percent of logos registered as trademarks for marijuana-related businesses feature the familiar graphic.

However, wellness-branding does have an option for establishing a separate visual identity. In the past few years, many advocates have adopted a green cross similar to the red cross associated with western medicine. It’s such a simple idea, yet truly brilliant in its gentle, welcoming image. Surprisingly, the majority of those immersed in the cannabis scene are completely unaware of the symbol’s meaning. As more wellness-based groups arise, I believe this will change.

I feel compelled to at least address a relatively new cringe-worthy term — “budtender.” I actually just cringed while typing it. The term, used universally in medical and recreational shops, refers to those dispensing cannabis to patients and consumers alike. It’s creating a common denominator between the two, keeping them intertwined. It also equates cannabis to alcohol — completely negating the argument that cannabis is much safer than alcohol, the core message championed by those responsible for Colorado’s success in becoming the first state to legalize cannabis in 2012.

Language is always developing, adaptable through choice. This allows us the ability to reshape it any time we find necessary. By simply changing a few words and one symbol, a form of activism requiring no marching in the streets or wielding of picket signs, we can profoundly change the tone of the cannabis argument and protect the positive strides achieved through the tireless work of all those who advocate for the use of cannabis as a medicine.
