U.S. anti-drug policy: the 21st century Jim Crow laws

The war on drugs is one of the most morally corrupt and counterproductive institutions in the United States. It is sickening to think of the hundreds of thousands of lives that have been degraded, disregarded, marginalized, dehumanized and disenfranchised over the last thirty years by inculcated government fears.

America sits quiet as her citizens are stripped from their families, stripped of their rights, stripped from their futures, stripped of their humanness.

Blame the blacks; blame the junkies; blame the whores; blame the rejects; blame the poor; blame the immigrants; blame the lazy; blame the queer; blame the atheists. Do this while you inject caffeine, alcohol and nicotine, buy Percocet, Paxil, Viagra, Prozac, purple pills, over the counter thrills, watch TV, go to the movies, collect CDs, go to buffets and doughnut shops and cash bars and latte counter tops. Stuff your face and try not to pay, and don't worry because if you have to, you still get to sue one day.

Welcome to America.

In America, we have a list of acceptable drugs, and we have a list of unacceptable drugs. The demarcation is often arbitrary and fearfully out of touch with reality.

It is hard for our generation to think objectively about substance abuse. We were born and raised on ideology that targets drug users as dirty, lowly criminals. We were fed on news stories of inner city minorities getting busted with kilos and crack house violence that led to wet beds at night. We grew up on fear and righteousness.

"Just Say No." That is a great motto. Just say no to reality. Just say no to thinking. Just say no to parole. Just say no to caring. Just say no to rehab. Just say no to people who have thrown their lives away. Just say no to compassion. Just say no to treatment. Just say no to difficult places. It is easy to "Just say no." It is easy to allow only two choices — good and bad. These are easy things, but easy things can be corrupt.

It is quite possible that, between the mix of environmental and social contexts, a person is born with genes of addiction. It is likely that diabetes, cancer and drug addiction fall under the same umbrella of things called disease. It is possible that there is a virus that increases the risk of drug addiction. For all we know, it sweeps through crowded slums, polluted cities and malnourished families like poverty and Tuberculosis and HIV/AIDS.

In America, we do not treat drug abuse like the illness it is. We criminalize the symptoms and spread the disease. We fill our jails with fathers, voters and high school students. City governments go out of their way to neglect minority communities, take away their homes, orphan their children and then cage them for not standing up to the pressure.

Are we a stronger nation because our drug laws target minorities and low-income communities? Are we a stronger nation because we have more of our citizens in jail than any other nation? Are you a stronger person because in some places as many as one in 13 black men are banned from voting because of nonviolent offenses? Are you a stronger person because 40% of black and Latino births are celebrated in poverty? What gives us strength?

The amazing thing is that we have choices. You have choices. Make them. Actively. Incarceration is a short-term solution that costs a lot of money and offers little results. Rehabilitation is a less expensive option that has ten times more success at reducing recidivism for each dollar spent. Finally there is the choice of preventiona choice of affordable housing and living wages, intact school buildings and up to date textbooks, environmental regulations and health care.

Prevention and rehabilitation are options that embrace humanity. Incarceration denies humanity. Prevention and rehabilitation fortify the present and offer hope for the future, while incarceration denies the importance of both. Drug abuse is a serious matter. We should treat it as such.