I’ve had a vision. A vision I can see, feel, and hear. A vision of togetherness within a community that changes the very fabric of the world we live in. A vision bearing the kind of statement that can’t be ignored, brushed aside, or pacified by half-assed memos and political fence-teetering. I was given this vision because it’s what I’m meant for. I was meant to come here, to come to prison, to wind up in the conditions I’ve been in for the past year. I’ve always felt that I was put on this earth for something more, for something greater than myself. Before I was incarcerated, I was a waste. I was a waste of someone who should’ve always been great. I’m not alone in this vision; in fact, I see millions of people with me. Millions of people who realize this is a war, not just another pothead joke.

I never understood what a vision was before I had one. I wasn’t asleep, I wasn’t daydreaming. I had this vision the first week I was in the Special Housing Unit, what people commonly refer to as solitary confinement. I was alone, as alone as I’ve ever been, but there was a comfort I felt in seeing this war is almost over. I wanted to write about it then, but now I’ve realized I wasn’t ready. The world wasn’t ready. Now I feel it coming, and I know when it’s supposed to happen. It’s going to take time, extraordinary effort, and careful planning—all things I am incapable of from prison. This is where you come in. I need help, and I need all of you to contribute.

Human history has shown us that things have changed over the course of countless years, but some things remain incredibly consistent. One of this country’s consistencies is that to make great changes happen, a show of force and togetherness is necessary. I’m thinking of women’s rights, LGBTQ+ rights, and the civil rights of an entire race of people that, just 100 years ago, this country officially valued at 3/5th of a person. This country can’t be made “great again” because our country’s history is disgusting. Make no mistake about it, incarcerating human beings over the most beneficial plant on the planet will one day be looked at as barbaric. The politicians and people who fight against cannabis legalization will be looked at the way we view people who were pro-slavery, pro-segregation, against women’s rights, and against the freedom to love someone no matter what their or your sex. If you are one of the many people who don’t think that cannabis laws belong on the same level as these other issues, let me be very clear: these laws were put in place to perpetuate the fight against people of color. Yes, I am a white male in prison for a plant made illegal based on the propaganda that it makes white women sleep with black men. This isn’t a funny joke or a one-liner from Seth Rogen or Cheech and Chong. I am in real federal prison, missing out on my daughter’s real life, along with 40,000 other human beings who are the real victims of a real war over something that should’ve never been illegal in the first place. People are dying, being shot by police in raids deemed acceptable because a bong or small amounts of cannabis are found. This is a real war with real victims, and until the people who use cannabis come together, lives will continue to be lost.

My vision is of a million souls, a million human beings, showing up in our nation’s capitol on April 20th, 2022 with one goal in mind: CHANGE. The changing of the prohibition of cannabis and its placement as a Schedule I drug. The changing of the lives of all of us in prison for cannabis. I see the leaders of the cannabis community—the Snoop Doggs, Joe Rogans, Elon Musks, and others—on a stage in the National Mall and demanding our voices be head once and for all. I see the pardon requests for all prisoners serving life for pot being delivered directly to the White House while a million people stand behind the requests. I see us showing our peacefulness as well as our resolve. I see us showing that we are different. We make this world a better place. I see politicians scrambling to change their opinions to avoid becoming the villains. I see our issue becoming front and center rather than being pushed to the side. I see a festival in our nation’s capitol where you can feel the peace and love coming across our nation. Where people can use cannabis without the fear of incarceration or losing everything they have in the world. This is how we will win the war. We have been winning battles since California passed its medical marijuana laws, but it’s time we went all out and won the war. Ten years will have passed since Colorado became the first recreationally legal state. All the arguments against legalization have been proven wrong. We will march on the capitol, we will come together, the victims of this war will be vindicated, and we will change the course of history. I can see the day, I can smell the victory in the air, I can feel the goosebumps of victory lifting on my skin. I know this is how we will win because I see it. What I need is for all of you to see it, too.

My name is Jeremy David Grove, federal inmate #32201-171. I am currently serving a mandatory minimum sentence of five years for buying cannabis legally in California and bringing it back to South Carolina to sell it. What I was doing was illegal. What I was doing was not wrong. I believe in cannabis. I believe the people I sold cannabis products to were making informed and correct decisions to buy and consume the products provided. I did not sell to people underage, and I never used a weapon or any kind of violence. I need everyone who sees my vision to share this post. I need you to tag your friends, your favorite cannabis celebrities. I need you to see how close we are to a country where cannabis is legal. I know a show of solidarity will work. I know a million people marching in Washington is how this war will be won. I’m in prison; all I can do is share my vision and ask all of you to see it, too. We can make this happen. Together we will change the world.