A protest by any other name would still smell like pot
Conversation around Vancouver's annual 4/20 event has dissolved into a game of semantics
by
Piper Courtenay on April 17th, 2019 at 4:20 PM
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- According to event host and organizer Greg “Marijuana Man” Williams, the lack of a permit has never stopped Vancouver’s 4/20 event.
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- According to event host and organizer Greg “Marijuana Man” Williams, the lack of a permit has never stopped Vancouver’s 4/20 event.
Piper Courtenay
Ask any organizer of Vancouver’s 4/20 and none take issue with politicians calling the event a “celebration”. For the heavily stigmatized community, in fact, it is.
Park board votes against 4/20—and 10 reasons why cannabis users can consider the event a protest
“Of course it is. This is how we’ve been celebrating marijuana—without anyone’s fucking permission—for 24 years,” event host and organizer Greg “Marijuana Man” Williams says with a laugh while chatting with the
Georgia Straight.
“It’s a beautiful day of diversity and inclusion,” activist Jodie Emery says in another conversation. “When I am at these events, and I look into the crowd, we have all ages, all races, all ranges of socioeconomic backgrounds. It’s people coming together and having a wonderful time.”
Sensible B.C. director and event spokesperson Dana Larsen goes further, saying that media tagging the event as a “fun festival” aren’t wrong either—in fact, that is one of the few things they get right.
“4/20 has always been a celebration of cannabis and its culture and our forbidden love for this wonderful plant,” he says.
It’s not surprising, then, that the hundreds of booths slinging a tantalizing spectrum of cannabis products, the celebrity musical acts, and the smiles on the tens of thousands of faces are enough to mislead many to believe that’s all it is—a festival.
It is also why recent comments from the likes of city councillor Sarah Kirby-Yung and park commissioners Tricia Barker and John Coupar, all of whom are pushing for a rebrand of the word
protest, seem defensible.
Even Jeremiah Vandermeer, Cannabis Culture CEO and one of 4/20’s lead organizers, has dubbed April 20 a “cannabis lover’s day of freedom”, when attendees get to experience what the world would be like if weed were “truly” liberated.
But what terms like
celebration and
party miss, however, is that if Canadian laws were enforced to the fullest extent, everyone at the event would be, by definition, a criminal.
“Every single person could be arrested,” Vandermeer says.
The annual cannabis protest has not secured a permit for the past 24 years—meaning everything from smoking weed in the park to the sale of product comes with risk. Yet somehow the smoke-in remains one of the city’s largest and most beloved annual gatherings. Why?
“Peaceful civil disobedience means breaking bad laws openly, and 4/20 is still a demonstration of that,” Vandermeer adds. “People still believe there is something to fight for. That hasn’t changed.”
Every year, the park board withholds a licence for one of the city’s largest events, and that hasn’t changed with the event going into its 25th year.
A few weeks prior, Barker introduced a motion to urge city councillors to discuss a new venue for the unsanctioned event. Although she had no suggestion for an alternate location, she says it can’t stay at its current spot, Sunset Beach Park, at the mouth of False Creek. The protest was originally mounted at Victory Square, then moved to the steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery. Over the years, it outgrew the downtown core. Although the new site has been contentious for the past three years, some politicians are pivoting away from location talks and instead taking a new approach to halting the gathering, fixating on the legitimacy of the word protest in light of the plant’s newly legalized status. Conversation around 4/20 is dissolving into a game of semantics.
“After years of staging the annual protest, we’re now in a new era of legalization. They made it,” Kirby-Yung wrote in a recent
Daily Hive op-ed, glossing over a list of issues that activists, medical patients, and consumers have flagged since pot’s legalization in late 2018.
She continued: “It’s a party on the residents’ dollar and it’s a trade show.”
Kirby-Yung says Pride started as a protest and “grew and evolved”, and so should 4/20—although the former operates with a permit, sanctioned locations, and city funding.
“They say, ‘You got what you wanted,’ but they continue to act the same way they did under prohibition. Have you seen anything change in the way they handled 4/20 this year than any year before? No. Of course not,” event organizer Williams says. “We’re still treated like third-class citizens.”
Commissioner Coupar used the Monday park-board meeting to take aim at the event’s musical headliner, Cypress Hill, filing an “urgent motion” to formally request the board to ask organizers to cancel the rap group’s appearance for fear of the gathering getting “out of hand”; the board voted in favour. In a media statement, Coupar referred to the upcoming day of peaceful civil disobedience as a “commercial venture”—later telling reporters at City Hall that police could prevent the stage being set up. Mayor Kennedy Stewart told CBC that any such police action is unlikely.
“The event is not about profit, but we need to generate revenue,” event organizer Larsen clarifies. “We spend over $150,000 each year for protection of the park, our own emergency services, food and water, printing bills, our own site security. It’s a very long list of things.”