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- Cannabis was used medicinally in China as early as 200 BCE, especially for pain and inflammation.
- Anti-drug policies from the 20th century directly contributed to cannabis stigma in Asian American households.
- Asian Americans for Cannabis Education (AACE) empowers cultural reconnection and combats cannabis stigma.
- Representation in cannabis branding helps dismantle stereotypes and normalize use within Asian communities.
- Asian-owned businesses face systemic barriers including high startup costs and restricted banking access.
During Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, it's more important than ever to highlight the cultural shifts happening within traditionally conservative communities. Cannabis, a plant with deep medicinal and spiritual roots in Asia, has long been present in Eastern traditions—but due to colonial disruption and war-on-drugs era indoctrination, many Asian American families still regard it with suspicion or fear.
Organizations like Asian Americans for Cannabis Education (AACE) are now stepping in to bridge this disconnect, educating communities, dispelling myths, and rekindling cannabis’ place in Asian culture without shame.
Ancient Roots: Cannabis in Traditional Asian Medicine and Spirituality
Long before cannabis became a controversial substance, it held an esteemed status in Ancient Asian societies.
Cannabis, referred to as “ma” (麻) in Chinese, is one of the oldest cultivated plants in human history. In China, the earliest records of its use can be traced back over 2,000 years to the Pen Ts’ao Ching, one of the foundational texts of traditional Chinese medicine. This venerable herbalist manual attributed cannabis with a wide range of healing properties—treating pain, rheumatism, digestive disorders, and even hair loss. The seeds were eaten as food; the oils were used for cooking and medicine; the fibers became essential for textiles and rope.
But its use went beyond the physical. Archaeological discoveries, such as those in the Yanghai Tombs in Xinjiang province, unearthed cannabis remnants in burial sites dating back more than 2,500 years, suggesting the plant also had ceremonial and spiritual applications. Notably, high-potency cannabis residue found in the Jirzankal Cemetery suggests its use in psychoactive rituals, likely meant to help people contact the spirit world or to honor the dead.
Cannabis was also embedded in Daoist cosmology. The mythical goddess Magu, often depicted as an immortal woman imbued with youth and healing energy, is considered a guardian of herbal lore, including cannabis. Her stories link cannabis to spiritual rejuvenation and longevity, reinforcing its role as a divinely gifted plant.
In other parts of Asia, such as India, cannabis was revered in Ayurvedic medicine and used religiously in the form of "bhang" during Hindu spiritual festivals like Holi. In Tibet, it was sometimes used to aid meditation. Across the continent, this ancient herb was strongly connected with medicine, mysticism, and daily life.
The Rise of Stigma: How Colonialism and Policy Disrupted Cultural Practices
The fall of cannabis from its respected place in many Asian cultures happened because outsiders intervened and global policies changed.
Colonialism played a significant role in the criminalization and stigmatization of cannabis in Asia. British colonial administrators, particularly in India and Southeast Asia, began regulating the plant in the 1800s—not out of medical concern, but in efforts to control colonized populations. Cannabis, associated with native practices, was increasingly painted as a symbol of backwardness and addiction.
Fast forward to the 20th century: In a global campaign against psychoactive substances, the United Nations’ 1971 Convention on Psychotropic Substances officially categorized cannabis as a dangerous drug. Under pressure, Asian nations including China adopted these standards. In 1985, China fully outlawed cannabis and psilocybin—ironically banning two compounds that had been part of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) practice for centuries.
This shift triggered a domino effect across Asia. Societal emphasis on obedience, respect for authority, and national pride merged with state-driven anti-drug rhetoric. For many Asians and their diaspora, particularly those schooled under Confucian principles, any government decree seemed morally right. Thus, cannabis—once sacred and useful—was now synonymous with danger and disgrace.
This abrupt moral pivot erased institutional memory and cultural familiarity. What replaced it was stigma, fear, and enforced silence around cannabis—a silence that extended across oceans, into immigrant households around the world.
Immigration & Indoctrination: The D.A.R.E. Era and Asian American Households
For Asian immigrants arriving in the U.S. during the late 20th century, the intensity of American anti-cannabis propaganda was impossible to ignore. These new Americans were already under pressure to assimilate, maintain "model minority" expectations, and avoid law enforcement encounters. So when schools and communities heralded abstinence-based drug education programs like D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education), families internalized that messaging.
The D.A.R.E. curriculum, launched in 1983 and widely adopted throughout the 1980s and 1990s, characterized cannabis as a “gateway drug” leading to addiction, criminality, and loss of control. Asian American children often brought these teachings home, where elders with limited familiarity of western substances relied on their children’s translation of these cultural norms.
In Asian households—often led by parents working long hours while managing acculturative stress—obedience, reputation, and academic excellence were most important. Conversations around drugs were minimal, generally shrouded in warnings: “Don’t embarrass the family,” “Stay away from bad kids,” “What will the neighbors think?”
This fear-based approach magnified cannabis stigma within Asian American families. Unlike alcohol or tobacco, which were sometimes discussed or even consumed socially and ceremonially, cannabis remained largely invisible. Its use was associated with delinquency, bringing shame not just to the individual but to the entire family—an especially potent threat in collectivist cultures that value honor and cohesion.
Breaking the Silence: The Rise of Asian Americans for Cannabis Education (AACE)
Recognizing this cultural disconnect, a new generation of Asian Americans began speaking out—not as rebels, but as educators and bridge-builders. In 2015, Ophelia Chong co-founded Asian Americans for Cannabis Education (AACE), marking a pivotal moment in the Asian cannabis movement.
AACE’s mission is clear: to provide culturally relevant cannabis education, combat taboos, and create a platform where Asian voices in cannabis are seen and celebrated. It functions both as an advocacy hub and a safe community space, where people can come together to learn, share, and heal.
Through events like “Pot Luck” dinners timed around Asian holidays and workshops tailored to multilingual audiences, AACE creates cultural context around cannabis use. They're not asking people to defy tradition—they’re encouraging them to think about it again. Understanding cannabis as both a wellness tool and historical fixture allows communities to reevaluate it through a lens of respect rather than recklessness.
AACE also serves a practical role in policy and business. They collaborate with researchers, government advocates, and entrepreneurs to ensure that Asian Americans are not left out of crucial cannabis debates—from legalization to equitable licensing.
The Power of Representation: Why Visibility in Cannabis Matters
In media that still shows cannabis users as sloppy or criminal, having people see themselves represented is more important than ever—especially for groups whose stories are not often told.
Ophelia Chong, a professional photographer and branding expert, has used her expertise to rethink how cannabis looks in marketing and design. By designing campaigns and partnerships that reflect modern multicultural consumers, she disrupts the "stoner bro" stereotype and infuses the industry with elegance, heritage, and professionalism.
Chong’s leadership extends beyond AACE. She serves as a board member for the U.S. Cannabis Council and actively mentors entrepreneurs of color entering the cannabis industry. By placing Asian American stories and images front and center, she allows others to see themselves reflected in products, campaigns, and ownership—catalyzing cultural acceptance.
When people see cannabis normalized within their own community—on shelves, in media, or in testimonials—they’re more likely to reframe their attitudes and detach from internalized shame. Representation, whether it’s in a dispensary ad or a family dinner conversation, helps humanize cannabis users and opens the door to dialogue and healing.
Cultural Reconnection: Cannabis as a Modern Healer in Diaspora
For second- and third-generation Asian Americans, cannabis isn’t just a recreational indulgence—it’s a mechanism for reconnection.
People are rediscovering cannabis in wellness and spiritual practices, often in deeply personal ways. Whether infused into teas, incorporated into mindful journaling, or used in group ceremonies, cannabis is being re-contextualized as a tool for reflection, creativity, and ancestral healing.
Innovative devices like the Purple Rose Supply's CannaMold bring sophistication and intentionality into the process. Inspired by cigar-style cannagars, they allow users to craft long-lasting, smooth-burning cannabis experiences suited for celebrations, rituals, or solo meditations. It's more than just getting high—it's curating a moment worthy of reverence.
These new rituals echo the plant’s ancient uses—whether for relaxation, community bond-building, or transcendent introspection. For those dealing with generational trauma or cultural disconnection, this newfound cannabis space feels like coming home.
Community Over Isolation: What AACE Teaches Us About Advocacy
At its core, AACE isn’t just educating—it’s nurturing. For many Asian American cannabis users and entrepreneurs, entering the industry can feel isolating, especially without familial support or financial backing. That's where community leaders like Chong become indispensable.
Chong refers to herself as both a mentor and a grandmother figure in the community. She routinely offers guidance on product development, dealing with regulations, mental health, and marketing. More importantly, she listens—validating fears while encouraging growth.
Her mentorship underscores a vital point: cannabis advocacy cannot be divorced from relationships. The trust built in AACE’s spaces enables members to have difficult conversations, start businesses, and even confront stigma at the dinner table.
This sense of belonging is not an adjunct to the mission—it is the mission.
Challenges Still Ahead: Legal, Social, and Economic Inequity
Despite growing representation and community efforts, Asian Americans in cannabis still face formidable hurdles. Legal ambiguities around federal cannabis classification restrict banking access, deterring investment and entrepreneurship.
Asian American entrepreneurs disproportionately lack access to startup capital, government grants, and social equity programs—many of which are designed with Black and Latinx communities in mind, overlooking AAPI-specific needs. Language barriers, immigration status, and cultural hesitations compound the problem.
Additionally, stigma remains common, especially among first-generation immigrants and more conservative Asian sects. Even in legalized states, being “out” as a cannabis user or advocate can damage personal and professional networks.
For true equity to take root, policy reform must be paired with culturally competent outreach and access to capital for marginalized groups across the diaspora.
The New Narrative: Educate, Empower
Asian Americans for Cannabis Education offers a much-needed counter-narrative to the generational stigma around cannabis. By pairing modern advocacy with cultural storytelling, AACE and its allies remind us that education is liberation—and reconnection is power.
As initiatives like AACE continue to grow, they make clear that the cannabis community is not a monolith. It includes creatives, caretakers, scientists, small business owners, and everyday people rediscovering a forbidden family heirloom.
Cannabis is not a cultural threat—it’s a cultural key.
How You Can Get Involved
Moving the needle on cannabis stigma in Asian communities starts with small but intentional acts. You can:
- Follow and donate to organizations like Asian Americans for Cannabis Education.
- Share resources and personal stories with friends and family.
- Use culturally meaningful tools like Purple Rose Supply's CannaMold to reclaim ceremony and connection in your cannabis experience.
- Advocate locally for policy reform that includes AAPI entrepreneurs and patients.
- Support Asian-owned cannabis businesses and creatives.
Every conversation, connection, and ritual helps shift the narrative.
Cultivating Legacy
Cannabis has always had a place in Asian history—as medicine, ritual, and resource. Today, as the Asian American cannabis movement gains momentum, it reconnects communities not only to the plant but to themselves. Through education, visibility, and empowerment, modern Asian Americans are not rewriting history—they’re restoring it.
The past is sacred. The present is promising. The future is ours to grow.
