Stephanie Shepard is the Acting Executive Director of Last Prisoner Project, where she leads the organization’s national work to free those incarcerated for cannabis offenses and to repair the lasting harms of cannabis criminalization. A powerful advocate for retroactive relief, Stephanie brings both lived experience and deep empathy to her role, turning her own story of incarceration and resilience into a driving force for change.
In October, I stood on a stage at Last Prisoner Project’s Journey to Justice Gala surrounded by people who understand what freedom means in a way most never will. The room was filled with advocates, families, and individuals who have lived through incarceration for cannabis. It was a night of music, tears, and reunion, both a celebration of freedom and a call to keep going until every last cannabis prisoner is home.
In that space, I saw the purpose that keeps me moving forward.
More than a decade ago, I was sentenced to ten years in federal prison for a first-time, non-violent cannabis offense. Ten years for a plant that is now legal in state after state, a product sold in bright storefronts, generating billions of dollars in revenue. I served my sentence, and I lost years of my life. And when I came home, I had to start from scratch, carrying a label that still follows me.
That is why the work of Last Prisoner Project means everything to me. We were founded on a simple belief: no one should remain incarcerated for cannabis while others profit from its legalization.
At the gala, held at Sony Hall in New York, we honored the stories of people who are still behind bars and celebrated those who have finally come home. Tables were named after incarcerated individuals. Families who had been separated for decades embraced. Advocates who had once been prisoners themselves stood tall in freedom.
Everywhere I looked, I saw living proof that our movement is not just about laws or policy, but about people.
But the night was also a reminder of how much work remains. Tens of thousands of people are still locked up for cannabis offenses, even as dispensaries open across the country and governments collect tax revenue from legal sales. It is one of the great moral contradictions of our time: that the same conduct which builds wealth for some continues to destroy lives for others.
The truth is that legalization of cannabis alone is not enough. We cannot build a thriving cannabis industry on the backs of those who remain incarcerated. Every company, investor, policymaker, and consumer has a role to play in changing that.
Last Prisoner Project is working every day to make that real. Through legal advocacy, direct support, and public education, we help secure clemency, expungement, and re-entry resources for those harmed by cannabis criminalization. Our legal team and partners have helped eliminate more than 350 years of excessive sentences, including eight life sentences. We’ve provided over nine million dollars in pro bono legal support to those seeking justice and second chances.
Our reentry and family programs have distributed nearly $4 million directly to almost 400 constituents and their loved ones. And through our policy advocacy, we’ve helped clear more than 200,000 records and supported the passage of 10 major legislative reforms across the country.
These numbers represent real people: families reunited, records wiped clean, lives restarted. They’re proof that progress is possible when compassion and justice lead the way.
When I was in prison, I spent many nights feeling as if the world had forgotten me. I felt as if no one cared that I was still there. No one should ever have to feel that way. The people we fight for are mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, business owners and community leaders. They are human beings who deserve dignity and the chance to rebuild their lives as the plant generates so much for so many.
As the new Acting Executive Director of Last Prisoner Project, I carry both my own story and the responsibility of those still waiting for justice. I know what it means to have your freedom taken for something that is now legal. I know what it means to come home and try to put your life back together. I also know that change is possible, because I have seen it happen. I’ve watched as governors grant clemency, as records are cleared, as doors once closed begin to open. Being a part of the change that I wasn’t afforded during my incarceration is a true sense of healing.
As a child of parents from the deep south, civil rights era, I know change doesn’t happen overnight, and it doesn’t happen on the back of one person. It happens when a community stands together with conviction and compassion, each of us doing our part to move justice forward, one step at a time. And if you work in cannabis, if you consume cannabis, if you believe in fairness, then you are part of this story. Your voice matters. Your action matters.
At the gala, I looked around the room and saw what freedom looks like. It looks like families reunited, people finding purpose after years of loss, and a community determined to make sure no one is left behind. That night reminded me why I will never stop doing this work. As a child of parents from the deep south, civil rights era, I know change doesn’t happen overnight, and it doesn’t happen on the back of one person. It happens when a community stands together with conviction and compassion, each of us doing our part to move justice forward, one step at a time.
We will keep fighting until that promise is fulfilled. Until every cannabis prisoner is free, until every record is cleared, and until every person harmed by prohibition has the opportunity to live fully and freely again.
All images by Jeff Kravitz and used with permission.
This article is from an external, unpaid contributor. It does not represent High Times’ reporting and has not been edited for content or accuracy.
