Mary Langenfeld
Alan Robinson: “The decriminalization and legalization of cannabis is one of the ways this country can undo some of the systematic and intentional racism.”
It’s a Thursday night at Cafe CODA, the intimate jazz club on Willy Street. Alan Robinson greets some customers at the door and leads them to their seats. He previews the acts playing that night, runs through the drink specials, and asks about any special needs. Robinson takes his hosting job seriously, since it can set the tone for a patron’s evening. That’s why his mantra at the club is “make every single guest feel cool.”
As the customers settle in for a night of jazz, they probably have no idea that Robinson, the stylish host with a mile-wide smile, spent his day planning a lobbying effort and organizing a meeting with staff from Attorney General Josh Kaul’s office. When Alan Robinson is not at Cafe CODA, he’s serving as the executive director of the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML) — Wisconsin chapter.
Attitudes around marijuana are shifting across the nation, but Wisconsin’s GOP-led Legislature has so far blocked all legalization efforts here. “The lawmakers who continue the prohibition of cannabis are derelict in their duties. The people of this state want marijuana legalized,” says Robinson. “There are people who are hurting — veterans, people with cancer and chronic pain, people who have been incarcerated for long periods of time for having small amounts of cannabis. There is the money that is being lost — growers, vendors. It is the time to act.”
But attitudes here may be changing. This month, Assembly Speaker Robin Vos says he’s now willing to consider legalizing medical marijuana.
Robinson is a notable contrast to the gray-haired, white hippies with ponytails who are typically associated with marjuana activism. He’s an immaculately dressed black man under 40. He doesn’t want his leadership to be the only way that NORML Wisconsin busts stereotypes.
“We want to make NORML normal,” says Robinson, “We need to be out there in the community, sponsoring volleyball teams, picking up litter. We need to show that cannabis users are your neighbors and this is just part of their life.”
NORML has long had strong local chapters around Wisconsin, but never an official statewide chapter until this year. NORML Wisconsin is growing fast, but has yet to be granted nonprofit status. That’s why Robinson works as a host at Cafe CODA.
“I’m making less money than I was a year ago, a lot less,” says Robinson, “But I’m not doing this for a paycheck. I’m doing this because I believe it is work that must be done.”
Robinson worked in sales for most of his adult life, and his journey to activism was neither direct nor smooth. Some say that journey is part of what makes him an effective advocate.
“Alan is a passionate, educated warrior for marijuana reform. He has a really powerful personal life story, his experiences as a black man in Wisconsin. He talks openly about how he has been able to find strength for himself,” says state Rep. Melissa Sargent (D-Madison). “Alan does a lot of listening and he’s not afraid to sit down with people who feel differently than him and share his story.”
Robinson draws inspiration from both his personal history and American history. “My walk to the Capitol started long before I was born. It started when my people were brought here and treated as three-fifths of a person. Once we were considered human, we couldn’t even vote. When we tried to vote, they hit us with fire hoses. Once they realized the fire hoses wouldn’t hold us back, they started slapping us with felony convictions to stop us from voting,” says Robinson. “The prosecution of non-violent drug offenses, particularly the disproportionate sentences given to people of color, is just another way to deny black people their rights as Americans. Decriminalization and legalization of cannabis is one of the ways this country can undo some of the systematic and intentional racism.”
Growing up in the Madison area, Robinson admits he was never a great student — his family moved a lot, and he bounced around schools and districts. But when Robinson started high school, he found something he excelled at: sales.
“I was 14 or 15 when I got a telemarketing job at the Charlton Group, selling HBO,” Robinson says. “I could make myself sound older. I studied my voice like other kids were studying instruments. I studied the words that I used because words have power.”
After high school, Robinson did a stint in the Navy, which he says was a bad fit because he hates taking orders. After leaving the Navy, he trained to become a loan officer.
“I studied under the most amazing salesman I’ve ever met. He could sell water to a well,” Robinson says. “He showed me the importance of making that connection with someone, building relationships. I truly care about people. I truly give a damn. Above all, I want to do what’s right for the customer.”
Despite his best intentions for sales, the bank Robinson worked for was selling subprime mortgages, or loans to homebuyers with low credit scores who would traditionally be denied. He was making good money and didn’t pay much attention to the big picture — until the housing bubble burst in 2007, crashing the economy.
“We thought we were helping, I swear to you, we were getting people into homes. We thought we were helping people establish good credit,” says Robinson. “We didn’t know that we were part of this terrible scam going all the way up to Wall Street.”
During the recession, Robinson felt responsible as he watched many of the people he sold mortgages to lose their homes. His own finances took a hit. Within a matter of months, he was laid off at the bank, ended a long-term relationship, and lost his house.
He started drinking and partying more. It led to an even more devastating loss. “One night, I was hanging out with my girl at the time and my homeboy Jud. We went back to my girl’s place, where she was living with her father who was dying of cancer. I had not realized that Jud had a drug problem,” says Robinson. “If I had known… I wish I had known.”
After Robinson and his girlfriend went to sleep, Robinson’s friend overdosed on prescription opioids that were stored in the house. Robinson found his body the next morning.
“I woke up and he was lying there just a few feet from me. To be that close to death, it leaves an imprint for a long time,” says Robinson. “When I say these opioids are a plague on our community, I’m not just saying that because of the data. I’m not just saying that because I’ve heard other people’s stories. Opioids can take away someone you love before you even knew they had an addiction.”
Robinson takes out his wallet and pulls out a laminated copy of his friend’s obituary. He’s carried it with him for 10 years.
Greg Anderson
This spring, state Rep. Melissa Sargent (D-Madison) announced her latest bill to fully legalize marijuana in Wisconsin. She credits Robinson with “building a movement of people who were otherwise unlikely to come here in the Capitol.”
Soon after, Robinson and a partner formed Untouchable Entertainment and began booking shows around Madison and the Dells. It was the heart of the Great Recession and Robinson figured that people were thirsty for affordable entertainment.
“If I couldn’t sell real estate, I could sell parties,” says Robinson.
Bringing nationally known artists to small markets like the Dells seems like a dicey proposition, though Robinson says the business was doing well. But lingering grief over his friend’s death — he now believes he was suffering from symptoms of PTSD — meant that he was drinking even more. Robinson was picked up for multiple OWIs.
“I was depressed and trying to drown it with alcohol,” Robinson says. “But that’s no excuse for what I did.”
Robinson’s last OWI landed him in the Dane County Jail for six months, followed by six months of treatment. He knew he couldn’t start drinking again, so he started using marijuana more frequently.
“I’ve struggled with depression for as long as I can remember,” he says. “I needed something. It wasn’t pills. It certainly wasn’t alcohol. Cannabis makes me feel okay.”
Party promotion would bring him too close to alcohol, so he went back to working in sales to pay the bills.
He was also looking for a creative outlet to keep positive. He studied radio production. He tried stand-up comedy. He wanted to get involved in something he was passionate about and he knew that he was passionate about cannabis.
When he started attending Madison NORML meetings — something clicked. It gave him a platform to talk about issues, not just marijuana activism, but also criminal justice reform and the dangers of opioids.
Robinson got more involved with the organization, becoming the communications director for Madison NORML and serving on the board.
“I first met Alan through stand-up. We became friends as comedians,” says Spencer Brooks Graham. “He saw that I would post a lot about legalization and taxation. He encouraged me to start coming to [NORML] meetings. I think he recognized that I was frustrated with comedy and wanted to do something with a purpose.”
While Robinson relished connecting his professional skills with a personal passion, he realized that Madison NORML — and the other two local chapters in Wisconsin — weren’t going to change the conversation on marijuana in Wisconsin. Other activists made a similar conclusion.
About a year ago, Robinson connected the three existing chapters that were interested in taking NORML in Wisconsin to the next level. He led the discussions with the national NORML office about establishing an official Wisconsin chapter. With Robinson, the national office saw someone who was eager to collaborate.
“Alan regularly participates in our national chapter leadership calls and I have one-on-one calls with him once a month to discuss political strategy in the Badger State,” says Justin Strekal, political director for NORML. “He is thoughtful about his strategy and tenacious in his zeal to show up and work with allies and potential allies alike.”
With the support from the national office and growing interest from local advocates, NORML Wisconsin was born. The new chapter has recruited board members, including the leaders of the three existing chapters, and held its first board meeting in April to ratify bylaws and name Robinson the executive director.
These steps are groundwork to qualify for 501(c)(4) tax status, which would allow it to lobby as a nonprofit as long as the lobbying was relevant to its mission of cannabis reform.
“It’s not just Alan doing this alone,” says Graham, who is now communications director for the state chapter. “He’s put together this awesome team of people who are personally invested in making our laws better.”
Robinson and Graham are focusing on building and rebuilding NORML’s relationships with government and law enforcement around the state.
“Madison has gotten used to having a powerful cannabis advocate. Ben Masel was a legend for decades. He started the [Great Midwest Harvest] Marijuana Festival. He was able to capture the attention of the media, of politicians, and make them listen,” says Robinson. “And when he died in 2011, I don’t know, I feel like some of the activism changed. People just wanted to yell at the folks at the Capitol, not have conversations with them. And you don’t make things better for people just by yelling.”
Robinson and Graham started meeting with legislators. Sargent — who for the last several sessions has introduced legislation to legalize recreational and medical marijuana — was an obvious first connection. She welcomes the collaboration.
“This building is not just a place for fourth graders to come for a field trip,” Sargent says of the Capitol. “We are earnestly trying to do good work. Hearing voices of the people — sometimes with appointments, sometimes not with appointments — is valuable. Alan’s building a movement of people who were otherwise unlikely to come here in the Capitol.”
Graham is surprised at how fast things have unfolded. “I’ve lived in Madison since 2009. I always admired the Capitol building but I didn’t think I’d ever do anything there. I promoted stand-up shows, I never thought I’d be organizing lobby days,” says Graham. “It turns out, people are way more interested in marijuana than they are in attending local stand-up comedy.”
Robinson makes good use of his sales skills.
“It’s all about that relationship building. Listening to the legislator, learning about what’s important to them and then showing them how cannabis legalization will help them with what they care about,” says Robinson. “[People] meet with me and the other advocates and they see we aren’t a bunch of crazy hippies. We are veterans, we are cancer patients. We are your constituents and we are you.”
Robinson has connected with legislators on both sides of the aisle, including Sen. Patrick Testin (R-Stevens Point).
“Testin is smart, he’s a nice guy. We had about an hour-long discussion,” Robinson says. “He explained his very personal story about how his grandfather suffered with chronic pain at the end of his life, how he believes marijuana could have helped relieve that pain.”
Testin is working with Sen. Jon Erpenbach (D-West Point) and Rep. Chris Taylor (D-Madison) on legislation that would legalize medical marijuana. “That’s an incredible thing,” Robinson says.
Robinson acknowledges that Testin’s support of the issue might relate to the fact that he’s in a swing district, where he narrowly defeated Democratic Sen. Julie Lassa in 2016.
“I said he’s smart, didn’t I? Testin can see the numbers, he knows that the people overwhelmingly want medical marijuana, they want full legalization, period. The will of the people shall be the law of the land,” says Robinson. “So many of his colleagues on the Republican side think they can ignore the majority. They think they are safe behind their gerrymandered maps, they think we can’t organize. I think they are wrong.”
As a sign of how the political tide is shifting, even Vos is now open to considering legalizing medical marijuana (although, he remains opposed to recreational use).
Robinson is not afraid to point out how black people are disproportionately affected by the current prohibitions on pot. National data, Robinson says, illustrate that similar percentages of white people and black people use cannabis. But according to an ACLU study, black people are six times more likely to be arrested for possession than whites in Wisconsin. He made this point to a staff member of Rep. Joe Sanfelippo (R-New Berlin).
“I said that ignoring this data makes it look like you don’t care,” says Robinson. “Any person who denies that there’s a problem here isn’t being an honest partner in the conversation.”
That’s why NORML Wisconsin is working hard on organizing statewide — the group is establishing five new local chapters.
“We can’t just be in Madison and Milwaukee,” Robinson says. “We have to be in places like Eau Claire and Wisconsin Rapids, showing legislators just how much support there is for cannabis reform.”
As a 501(c)(4) nonprofit — the same classification that the National Rifle Association and Planned Parenthood have — the group hopes to become a force in elections. “We will support Republicans who support our issue. We won’t give Democrats a pass just because they have a D behind their name — we want them to champion our work too,” says Robinson. “And if you are against our cause, Republican or Democrat, we are going to smoke you out at the ballot box.”
State Sen. Patrick Testin (R-Stevens Point) supports legalizing medical marijuana, one of a few Republicans who have come out in favor of it.
Robinson’s focus on working with legislators and law enforcement has rankled some marijuana advocates. He criticized the Lion of Judah House of Rastafari — two men who distributed marijuana under the guise of religious freedom — for appropriating a historically black religion and for posting sexist and homophobic messages on Facebook.
“I’m not a revolutionary,” Robinson explains. “I advocate for changing the law, not breaking it.”
But some felt he took it too far by showing up while the police raided Lion of Judah and taking a selfie with one of the cops. At least one Madison NORML member asked for a membership refund. A group called Wisconsin Cannabis Advocates circulated a petition calling for Robinson’s resignation. Robinson seems unfazed.
“By behaving like you are above the law, and acting like you’re shocked and appalled when the police demonstrate that you are not, isn’t helpful to the movement,” Robinson responded on Facebook. “Doing it under the guise of a historically black religion is to double down on that disrespect.”
The national group continues to support Robinson.
“I am not concerned with what people type in the comments section when they are not individuals who put in the legwork of organizing and building power,” says Strekal. “[Robinson] truly is dedicated from a position of sane and moral policy.”
For now, Robinson is continuing to work as an executive director by day and a host at Cafe CODA by night. His focus is on building a strong record of advocacy that he can show to potential donors once the 501(c)(4) status is complete, so that they can trust that NORML Wisconsin will be a good steward of donations.
“I’ve heard people say we have millions, we don’t. We are doing all of this on a shoestring budget. Do you have any idea the kind of campaign that I will put together with a real budget? I love selling things. All I have to do is sell the idea that cannabis is good and should be legal,” says Robinson. “That’s the easiest sale I’ve ever made.”
