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A Journey of Redemption and Cannabis Advocacy: Q&A with Matthew Nicka

Stephanie Shepard • November 13, 2023

A Journey of Redemption and Cannabis Advocacy: Q&A with Matthew Nicka


Matthew Nicka's journey of growth, incarceration, and reintegration into society after serving a 15-year sentence for a non-violent cannabis offense is both a poignant and eye-opening story. In this exclusive Q&A with Stephanie Shepard, the Director of Advocacy at the Last Prisoner Project (LPP), Matthew sheds light on his background, his arrest, and his experiences before and after incarceration.


Matthew's story highlights the need for reform in the cannabis industry and the criminal justice system. He was a non-violent cannabis offender who found himself sentenced to over 15 years, serving nearly a decade of that sentence. The stark contrast between his life before and during incarceration underscores the impact of institutionalization and the challenges faced by those reentering society.


Despite the hurdles he's faced, Matthew's determination to reintegrate and contribute positively to society is evident. His short and long-term goals, which include education, career growth, and spending time with his family, showcase his commitment to building a simple, fulfilling life.


As the cannabis industry continues to thrive, Matthew's journey serves as a powerful reminder that criminal justice reform and the release of non-violent cannabis prisoners are essential steps toward a more equitable and just future. His experiences also emphasize the importance of organizations like LPP, which work tirelessly to provide support and advocacy for individuals like Matthew who have been affected by cannabis-related convictions.


Through Matthew Nicka's story, we are reminded of the significance of compassion, understanding, and the need for change in the face of a system that has disproportionately impacted the lives of non-violent offenders. His journey of redemption and cannabis advocacy is a compelling call to action for a more just and compassionate world.


Q&A:


Stephanie (LPP): Matthew, tell me a little about yourself, your background, and how you ended up speaking with me today.


Matthew: I am a white, middle-class suburbanite from Tulsa, Oklahoma. I grew up with a drug problem. I was 17 years old when I got sober, around 1987. Shortly after that, I discovered the Grateful Dead. I consider myself a wrestler, a deadhead, a sober alcoholic, and now, a convict. I started following the Grateful Dead, and I have always been a cannabis user, so I started to believe in the things I learned on the Grateful Dead tour. We lived outside of society and believed that a person can do what a person wants to do, and if a person wants to do what society would deem “harm themselves”, it’s their right to do so. I’m seeing people freely using marijuana and not hurting themselves. At some point, I began to sell it.


Stephanie (LPP): Can you tell me about your arrest that resulted in your incarceration?


Matthew: I sold marijuana until 2010 when I was indicted for conspiracy to traffic over 1000 kilos of marijuana. I plead guilty to that, as well as to money laundering. As part of my plea agreement, I would not cooperate. I bucked the system the whole way.


Stephanie (LPP): Sentencing is one of the most difficult aspects of the whole situation. How long was your sentence?


Matthew: I plead guilty to no less than fourteen, no more than nineteen years. My pre-sentence report recommended that I should receive 12 1⁄2 years. The prosecutor wanted to give me 33 years. I couldn't understand why. I’m vehemently opposed to firearms, violence, and hard drug use. It may sound like an oxymoron because marijuana is a drug, but I never saw it that way. I don't agree with the terminology of marijuana as a “drug”, but it doesn't matter what I agree with because the U.S. Government considers it a drug. I was eventually sentenced to 188 months, but it ended up being 203 months because I spent 15 months in a Canadian jail that the BOP didn't count.


Stephanie (LPP): I know my first year of incarceration was unbelievably challenging. How was your first year?


Matthew: That was a rough year. I’m not one of these in-and-out-of-prison guys. It was a tough adjustment period. I’m a non-violent hippie, and I have strived my entire adult life to get away from the person that I once was. Before finding the Grateful Dead, I was a violent guy, I didn't treat people correctly. I had no karmic boundary at that point in my life, but the Grateful Dead community showed me a different way. Growing up in Oklahoma, racism was prevalent. I had gotten that upbringing completely out of my system.


Stephanie (LPP): How much time did you ultimately end up serving and how did you end

up coming home early?


Matthew: I served 9 years, 8 1/2 months of a 188-month sentence. I was released under the Cares Act. A good friend of mine, Erin Cadigan, told me she knew of these people who were helping non-violent cannabis offenders get out of prison. I said, “Well, I’m non-violent!” I turned in the necessary information to Erin and she got back to me saying that LPP couldn't approve me because of a violent charge in my past. I knew the 1992 misdemeanor assault charge was showing up despite it being 29 years prior. I was determined to work on that, and Erin lit a fire under me to get the assault charge expunged. As a byproduct of my trying to qualify myself for assistance from LPP, and by them motivating me to get the charge expunged, I became eligible for the Cares Act. It all happened very fast. March 21st, 5 years before my scheduled release date, I’m home, at my mom's house in Florida. Erin put me in contact with LPP's Co-Founder. After we had that conversation, I received a $5,000.00 reentry grant to re-establish my life. I didn't ask for it. It was crazy, but I told them I didn't want it, to give it to someone who needed it more. They wouldn't take no for an answer and made some good points about why I deserved the help. I used the money in the best way possible; I sought out a therapist. I am institutionalized. Prison changed me. I was a mess and the therapist was a way

to help me reintegrate myself back into society.


Stephanie (LPP): It is unfortunate that something as a minor misdemeanor so long ago was still showing up on your record and hindering your life. People do grow, and you grew into an adult who was adamant about non-violence being a key pillar in your life. Did you feel labeled with your charge?


Matthew: It is very easy to be seen as a violent “drug dealer”, but people have a hard time seeing you as a non-violent dealer. Being a part of what the “kids” call the legacy industry, we chose to sell less for the money and more for our beliefs. I didn't need a firearm. I’d go meet clients at the Starbucks, throw a big duffle bag in their trunk then sit together and have a cup of coffee. I’d probably front it to him and I knew he’d honor the deal. That’s what made the marijuana world different from any other drug sales. No one was being harmed by what I was selling.


Stephanie (LPP): When you speak of being institutionalized, what changes do you see in yourself before and post-incarceration?


Matthew: I have a picture to share with you of me and keyboardist, Merle Saunders. Merle was a good friend of Jerry Garcia and a Black man. I was 28 years old, happy, with dreadlocks and a big smile on my face, hugging Merle. You can see on my face, the effect prison had on me. You look at me, a non-violent drug offender who comes into the system, who’s happy and thinking along the right path, and by the end of it, I look like a monster. I wasn't a monster, but you can see the pain and institutionalization in my face. That picture speaks a thousand words.


Stephanie (LPP): It took you many years to escape the negative thinking patterns that you grew up around, just to end up back around those negative forces in prison. How do you see that impact your life today?


Matthew: I still feel slightly incarcerated. I live in a home with my mother, my father passed away while I was in prison. I don't get out very often, but when I do, it’s sometimes overwhelming. When someone asks me what I want from the store or what I want to order to eat, I have all these options, I just have to have them order for me. I find myself going to Walmart and picking the same products we had on commissary because the decision-making process is too much. I haven't truly been able to enjoy the little things yet. I still have my ankle monitor on for 4 years, but I’ll take the trade.


Stephanie (LPP): It’s mind-boggling that you are free to walk around with nothing preventing you from committing a crime besides a little box on your ankle. How do you reconcile that this is a condition of your release?


Matthew: There are two ways to look at it; one, the system is set up to deter others from breaking the law and for public safety, but also, I employ many people. It takes the staff at the halfway house to monitor my device, the case managers, unit managers... the BOP is a business. I do not want to get on a pity pot, I was caught breaking the law, and I knew there would be consequences, but no one deserves a 17-year prison sentence for selling marijuana. I understand their job is to lock people up and my job was not to get caught, and I got caught. The prosecutor did better at their job than I did at mine in that case.


Stephanie (LPP): Since you’ve been home, can you describe what it’s been like for you to reconnect with your family and friends?


Matthew: I was shell-shocked. One great thing was I was able to go to AA often and re-connect with a lot of my old friends both from my hometown and the Grateful Dead world. I stayed away from everyone while I was going through my stuff because nobody wants those issues. When I got home, a lot of people just showed up to visit me out of nowhere. It was incredible. There are a lot of people who believe in what we’re doing and know that I'm not the monster that the U.S. Government made me out to be. They came and showed me support. Acclimating was hard for me because as I said, I'm very institutionalized. My mom might say “Let’s watch this show together.” and I say “Mom, you know I work out at 1:30, and at 4:30, I run.” I don't eat until after 4:30 count time in prison, so I don't eat until 4:30 now.


Stephanie (LPP): There is much more work to be done in the way of cannabis reform. What is the biggest change you’d like to see?


Matthew: Releasing all cannabis prisoners is the first thing. The time people are being given for non-violent cannabis charges, I don't know how anyone on the planet could think it's justifiable. To throw people in prison for a decade for selling a few pounds or a few hundred pounds of marijuana is ridiculous.


Stephanie: I know you also support the rescheduling of cannabis. Why do you lean that way as opposed to descheduling?


Matthew: I don't necessarily see a descheduling. I see the impact that alcohol with no set schedule has on society. But I can't believe, for the love of God. it's a schedule one. I think it should be a schedule three, and maybe if I can look at it through a different set of glasses, it will be completely descheduled. I'm probably one of the few people who see it this way. Now, maybe my motivation for that is I think it would probably help me legally if it was schedule 3 more than it would be if it was descheduled. Do I believe that marijuana is completely harmless? I've wrestled with this statement. I've wrestled with this for years, and I know that when I was abusive with marijuana as a kid, I was so foggy-headed. What's he say in Platoon? That shit kills your will to want to win? I don't know that I agree with that, but I think at least let us study it and find out what it does. We can't even do that. It's ridiculous.


Stephanie (LPP): Thank you so much for taking the time to share a bit of your journeywith us. What's next for you Matthew? What do your short and long-term goals look like?


Matthew: Up to 92 days, my goals were to get a job, stay out of trouble with the halfway house,and not go back behind the fence. Beyond that, I’d like to finish my studies for my degree, expand my career choices, continue going to AA, not using, and spend as much time with my family as possible. I just want to keep my life simple.


Stephanie (LPP): I am so happy you are home and taking the steps to continue thriving in your reentry. Thank you again for sharing some of your journey with us.


Conclusion:

Matthew's story is a powerful testament to the need for cannabis reform and the importance of organizations like the Last Prisoner Project. Through his journey of redemption, he not only seeks to rebuild his life but also advocates for the freedom of others who remain incarcerated for non-violent cannabis offenses. As the cannabis industry continues to evolve, Matthew's experiences serve as a reminder of the importance of compassion, understanding, and criminal justice reform. Together, we can work towards a more equitable and just future for all individuals impacted by cannabis-related convictions.

Roots of Resilience: African American Contributions to the Cannabis Movement

By Stephanie Shepard • February 20, 2025
Roots of Resilience: African American Contributions to the Cannabis Movement Cannabis has deep historical roots, stretching back thousands of years across various cultures, including Africa, where it was used for medicinal and spiritual purposes. In pre-20th century America, hemp was cultivated primarily for fiber, but there is evidence of its use within some African American communities as well. These early connections laid a foundation for a complex relationship between African Americans and cannabis, one shaped by cultural significance, criminalization, activism, and entrepreneurship. This journey reveals a narrative of resilience and influence, showcasing the integral role African Americans have played in the evolution of cannabis culture and policy in the United States. The 1930s marked a pivotal shift with the enactment of the “Marihuana Tax Act” of 1937, which effectively criminalized cannabis. This legislation was rooted in racial undertones, strategically associating cannabis use with marginalized communities, particularly African Americans and Mexican immigrants. This racialized narrative was fueled by propaganda that painted cannabis users as violent and dangerous, reinforcing stereotypes that justified harsh legal consequences. The demonization of cannabis laid the groundwork for decades of systemic discrimination and criminalization that would disproportionately impact African American communities. Despite these challenges, African American cultural icons began to reshape the narrative around cannabis during the early 20th century. Louis Armstrong, an iconic jazz musician, openly discussed his cannabis use in interviews. His candor helped normalize its use within African American culture, particularly within the jazz scene, where cannabis became associated with creativity and artistic expression. Armstrong's influence extended beyond his music; he challenged societal norms by embracing cannabis as a tool for relaxation and inspiration, subtly defying the negative stereotypes perpetuated by mainstream society. His legacy continues to inspire artists who view cannabis as an integral part of creative expression and cultural identity. During the 1960s, amid the Civil Rights Movement, cannabis use emerged as a form of counterculture expression among Black Americans in urban areas. The plant became a symbol of resistance and freedom, aligning with the broader struggle against racial oppression. Yet, this association with rebellion also made cannabis a target of political agendas. In the 1970s, the Nixon Administration launched the “War on Drugs,” a policy initiative that disproportionately targeted Black communities. The criminalization of cannabis escalated, leading to skyrocketing arrest rates and significant incarceration disparities. Nixon's advisor, John Ehrlichman, later admitted that the policy aimed to disrupt Black communities and antiwar activists, revealing the racially motivated underpinnings of the drug war. The impact of the War on Drugs intensified during the 1980s under the Reagan Administration, which implemented even harsher drug laws, including mandatory minimum sentences for cannabis offenses. This era further stigmatized cannabis, exacerbating mass incarceration rates among African Americans. The resulting social and economic consequences devastated countless Black families and communities. However, even amid this adversity, resilience emerged. As the criminal justice system disproportionately targeted Black Americans, leaders and activists within these communities began organizing and advocating for change. By the 1990s, discussions around drug reform started gaining momentum, and African American activists played crucial roles in these conversations. They highlighted the racial disparities in drug enforcement and advocated for decriminalization and legalization of cannabis. This period marked the beginning of a shift in public perception, as activists linked cannabis reform to broader social justice issues. This became especially common in rap and hip-hop where many Black artists are advocates still today. In the early 2000s, the push for medical cannabis legalization gained traction in several states. African American activists were instrumental in these movements, advocating for patient rights and access to cannabis as medicine. By the following decade, significant progress was made as more states legalized cannabis for recreational use. This new landscape allowed Black Americans to participate in the industry as advocates and entrepreneurs. Yet, systemic barriers persisted, preventing equitable access to business opportunities. Wanda James emerged as a trailblazer during this time, becoming the first African American woman to own a dispensary in Colorado. Her business, Simply Pure, symbolizes resistance against the racial discrimination historically tied to cannabis prohibition. Wanda’s advocacy extends beyond entrepreneurship—she works tirelessly to influence cannabis legislation and ensure communities affected by criminalization benefit from legalization. Her leadership challenges the status quo and paves the way for a more inclusive industry. Meanwhile, Calvin Johnson, a former NFL superstar, co-founded Primitiv cannabis to highlight the therapeutic benefits of cannabis as a safer alternative to opioids commonly used by athletes. His advocacy challenges the stigma surrounding cannabis use in professional sports and emphasizes the need for reparative justice in communities disproportionately affected by past drug policies. Now in the present, the 2020s represent a pivotal moment in the cannabis movement, as legalization continues to expand and discussions about equity and justice gain momentum. States have implemented measures to address the injustices faced by Black Americans during the War on Drugs, including expungement of records and support for minority-owned cannabis businesses. Donte West is at the forefront of this movement, leveraging his experiences with cannabis criminalization to advocate for equity and systemic change. Through his work with the Last Prisoner Project, Donte inspires others to participate in the cannabis industry and advocate for justice. We have seen a surge of African American entrepreneurs who are redefining the cannabis industry. Jesce Horton, the founder of Lowd and Grand National, is committed to creating opportunities for historically excluded communities while influencing cannabis legislation to promote equitable access. Roger “Ganja Guru” Sterling uses his platform to uplift communities of color and challenge societal narratives around cannabis, while Gibran Washington, CEO of Ethos Cannabis, advocates for inclusivity and justice within the legal cannabis market. Their leadership reflects a new chapter of empowerment and success, breaking down barriers and ensuring diverse voices shape the industry's future, though there is plenty of work still needed to balance the scales of cannabis ownership. Organizations like The Hood Incubator and Free My Weedman are also crucial in paving the way for a more inclusive cannabis space. By supporting Black and Brown entrepreneurs, advocating for equitable policies, and raising awareness about unjust incarcerations, these initiatives work to rectify historical injustices and promote social equity. Kristal Bush, founder of Free My Weedman, combines her entrepreneurial spirit with community advocacy, influencing cannabis policies and empowering marginalized communities. As we honor the contributions of Black individuals and organizations during Black History Month, it is essential to recognize the ongoing struggle of those disproportionately criminalized for daring to be involved with cannabis. From Louis Armstrong’s cultural influence to modern-day entrepreneurs and activists, African Americans have shaped the cannabis movement at every turn. Their resilience and leadership challenge systemic injustice, demand equity, and celebrate cultural identity, paving the way for a better industry for all. To continue supporting this legacy, we can engage in conversations about equity, support Black-owned cannabis businesses, and advocate for policies that promote justice. By acknowledging the past and celebrating the strides of the present, we can build a future that honors the roots of resilience within the cannabis movement.

What President Trump's Private Prison and Death Penalty Executive Orders Tell Us About Criminal Justice Reform to Come

By Adrian Rocha • February 7, 2025
o weeks into President Trump’s second term, cannabis has not surfaced as a leading issue in the early days of his new administration. However, several appointments and two executive orders signed during the first week of his second term will factor into the new administration’s drug and criminal justice policy approach. On his first day in office, President Trump signed an Executive Order (EO) rescinding a slew of EOs signed by former President Biden, including one effectively ending the use of private prisons to house federal prisoners . At the time President Biden signed the EO directing the Justice Department not to renew contracts with private prison firms, it was estimated that around 14,000 individuals incarcerated at the federal level were being held at private prisons. Additionally, President Trump signed another EO encouraging the Attorney General to “pursue the death penalty for all crimes of a severity demanding its use.” During his first term, President Trump voiced his support for seeking the death penalty for drug traffickers. This position was later formalized in a memo by then-Attorney General Jeff Sessions that encouraged federal prosecutors to seek the death penalty in cases involving large-scale drug traffickers. There were concerns at the time that the memo could be used to seek the death penalty for individuals involved in large-scale, state-legal cannabis operations; however, these fears never came to pass. The uncertainty around leadership further complicates the implementation and impact of these two executive orders. President Trump’s Attorney General nominee, Pam Bondi, who will oversee the Justice Department, was confirmed earlier this week. Additionally, the recent resignation of the Director of the Bureau of Prisons (BOP) has left the agency without a leader. During her confirmation hearing, Bonid reiterated her support for the continued implementation of the First Step Act, which could lead to additional releases from the BOP. In a letter to the newly minted Department of Government Efficiency, Senator Elizabeth Warren (D-MA) also encouraged the federal government to look at scaling back the enforcement of federal cannabis laws, broader legalization, and the BOP to pursue compassionate release at greater scale to reduce the size and cost of the federal prison population. In her letter, Senator Warren cites a potential cost savings of $881 million if the BOP were to more zealous seek the release of individuals over age 65, are classified as presenting a minimum or low risk of recidivism, and are found not to be a danger to the safety of any person or the community. LPP has successfully advocated for the release of constituents incarcerated for cannabis via commutations and compassionate release motions, including nine in the first Trump administration. If the goal of a second Trump administration is to divert resources away from government largesse, ending unnecessary cannabis enforcement and granting clemency to those still incarcerated for cannabis is a great way to start.

Maryland Must Build on Record Relief Progress with the Expungement Reform Act (SB 432)

By Adrian Rocha • February 4, 2025
At the Last Prisoner Project (LPP), we know that those burdened by past cannabis convictions deserve true justice by getting their criminal records fully expunged and allowing individuals to move forward without the lifelong barriers. In Maryland, where Governor Wes Moore made history last year by issuing the nation’s most sweeping cannabis pardon order, we are now calling on lawmakers to take the next step: passing SB 432, the Expungement Reform Act of 2025 . A criminal record—whether for a conviction or even just an arrest—can create lasting obstacles to employment, housing, education, and other opportunities. The impact is not just personal; according to research from the Center for Economic and Policy Research, the U.S. economy loses between $78 and $87 billion annually due to employment barriers faced by people with criminal records. These collateral consequences compound the injustices of the War on Drugs and disproportionately affect communities already marginalized by systemic inequities. SB 432 seeks to simplify the expungement process, removing unnecessary bureaucratic hurdles and making it easier for individuals to clear their records. The bill will help thousands of Marylanders—many of whom have already served their sentences—access new opportunities and contribute fully to their communities. In 2024, Governor Wes Moore demonstrated bold leadership by granting pardons to over 175,000 Marylanders with low-level cannabis convictions. This was a critical step toward undoing decades of harm caused by cannabis prohibition. However, the reality is that while a pardon provides some relief, it does not automatically erase a record. Individuals must still navigate complex legal procedures to have their records expunged—a process that can be costly, time-consuming, and confusing. LPP urges the Maryland General Assembly to amend SB 432 to ensure that individuals granted full and unconditional pardons can have their records expunged automatically. Without this critical update, many of those pardoned under Governor Moore’s order will still face barriers to jobs, housing, and other essential services, despite having been officially forgiven by the state. Adrian Rocha, LPP's Policy Director, was recently appointed to the governor's roundtable on expungement, where we hope to provide further expertise on how to fully effectuate cannabis justice through retroactive relief. Research shows that record clearance not only benefits individuals but also strengthens communities. A recent study found that five years after receiving expungement, individuals were less likely to engage in criminal conduct than members of the general public. By increasing access to jobs, housing, and educational opportunities, expungement promotes community reintegration and stability—key factors in public safety. Moreover, Maryland has the opportunity to join 12 other states that have implemented state-initiated expungement for certain offenses, recognizing that individuals should not be required to navigate complex legal systems to obtain relief they are already entitled to. Maryland has already taken significant steps toward cannabis justice, but the job is not done. Passing SB 432 and ensuring automatic expungement for those granted clemency will solidify the state’s commitment to meaningful criminal justice reform. LPP urges the General Assembly to pass SB 432 and amend it to ensure that those who have received full pardons under Governor Moore’s order do not have to wait or fight for the relief they were promised. This is about more than policy—it’s about restoring dignity, removing barriers, and allowing Marylanders to build better futures. The time for action is now. Maryland’s commitment to justice through record relief must extend beyond pardons. Let’s finish what we started. Read our full testimony below:
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