By Rodney LaBruce

"We knew we couldn't make it illegal to be either against the war or black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news. Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did." - John Ehrlichman, aide to President Nixon

Imagine for a moment you’re a 30-year-old African American single mother from Hearne, Texas. One day, during a drug sweep in 2000, you’re arrested. You had nothing to do with any drug activity, but you get caught up in it because a confidential informant falsely accuses you of selling drugs. While you sit in jail, your two children—four and ten years old—are left to fend for themselves. After a week, they offer you a plea deal: ten years of probation. You know you’re not guilty, so you refuse. And for another month, you sit in jail.

The legal help you get is next to nothing, and you’re feeling the weight of a system that’s set up to crush people in your position. Eventually, you accept a plea deal, not because you’re guilty, but because the alternative—a long, drawn-out trial and the risk of a much harsher sentence—looms over you. Taking the plea means you’re now branded with a felony conviction.

This isn’t a made-up story. It’s the real-life experience of Erma Faye Stew.

Erma Faye Stewart was one of 28 people arrested in the drug sweep in Hearne, Texas. Many of those arrested, like Stewart, were falsely accused based on the testimony of a single confidential informant. Most of the individuals, facing overwhelming pressure and lacking sufficient legal representation, also accepted plea deals, fearing the possibility of long prison sentences if they went to trial. They too ended up with felony convictions despite their innocence.

However, those who refused to plead guilty were eventually acquitted when the case fell apart. The informant who had falsely accused Stewart and others was discredited, and the charges were dropped for those who fought the charges in court. Unfortunately, for those like Erma Faye Stewart who had already pleaded guilty, the damage was done—they were left with felony records and the resulting lifelong consequences.

This is where the real punishment begins. As a convicted felon, you lose access to public housing, food stamps, and other essential forms of support. You can’t vote, and securing a job becomes an uphill battle. This isn’t just Erma Faye Stewart’s story—it’s one of many that highlights the devastating, far-reaching consequences of mass incarceration, especially for African Americans caught in the web of misguided drug policies. This is the real War on Drugs.

Once the system labels someone a criminal, it becomes acceptable to discriminate against them—when it comes to jobs, housing, even the basic right to vote. In 1980, 300,000 people were incarcerated in the U.S. Fast forward to 2023, and we’re looking at around 2 million behind bars.

Now, here’s where it gets complicated. Official numbers show that 47% of those in prison are there for violent crimes, and 21% for drug offenses. So, based on the numbers, it might seem like we’re succeeding in keeping dangerous people off the streets. But that’s only part of the story.

Violent offenders often serve much longer sentences, which means they make up a larger portion of the current prison population at any given time. Drug offenders, on the other hand, serve shorter sentences and get stuck in a cycle—getting out, getting arrested again, and going back in. So, while fewer people may be behind bars for drug offenses at this moment, the total number of lives affected by these drug laws is far higher than the statistics suggest.

Imagine you live on a street with ten homes, five on each side. On one side, the residents are homeowners, and on the other, they are renters. Statistically, your neighborhood appears to be 50% homeowners and 50% renters. However, renters typically move more frequently than homeowners. So, in reality, while the same homeowners remain on the street, renters come and go. Over time, your neighborhood will see a lot more renters than homeowners, even though a snapshot at any given moment would show an equal balance.

In reality, most people who get caught in the prison system are there because of drug-related offenses. And when you hear that, what do you think? Maybe you’d still say, “Well, the streets are safer, right?”

But are they? Let’s remember how all of this started. The War on Drugs kicked off in June 1971 when President Nixon declared drug abuse to be the nation’s public enemy number one. If you’re close to my age, you remember the “Just Say No” campaign under Ronald Reagan in the 1980s. Reagan ramped up Nixon’s policies, and with it came the mass incarceration we see today, especially for drug-related crimes. But here’s something most people don’t realize: drug use was already on the decline when Reagan’s War on Drugs began. Back in 1981, only about 2–6% of Americans thought drugs were the biggest issue facing the country.

And yet, here we are, with millions of lives destroyed by a war that was built on a shaky foundation. Look at the numbers today. Whites make up 59.3% of the U.S. population, but only 30% of the prison population. Latinos make up 18.9% of the country but 23% of the prison population. Now, let’s talk about Black people. We’re 12.6% of the population but represent 33% of those locked up.

Does that mean Black people are more dangerous or more involved in drugs? No. Studies consistently show that white youths report higher rates of drug possession and distribution than their Black and Hispanic peers.

In 2000, according to the National Institute on Drug Abuse, white youths were seven times more likely to use or sell cocaine than Black youths, eight times more likely to use or sell crack, and seven times more likely to use or sell heroin.

Yet, it’s Black and Brown communities that are disproportionately targeted and arrested. Bureau of Justice Statistics and FBI reports show these racial disparities clearly. Despite similar or higher drug use rates among white youth, it’s Black and Hispanic youth who get arrested more often. The truth is more Black people are behind bars for drug crimes even though studies show that white males are often the ones committing them.

There's a common misconception that people looking for drugs head to the inner city, where drugs are assumed to be found. After all, with so many Black and Brown people incarcerated, it must mean they have primary access to the drugs, right? Take a moment to consider this, and it becomes crystal clear: the drug trade mirrors our socio-economic realities. Whites sell to whites, Blacks to Blacks, and Latinos to Latinos. After all, you don’t really see affluent university students going into the inner cities to buy drugs—they get them from other university students in dorm rooms right down the hall.

The War on Drugs wasn’t designed to fight drugs—it was created to target the poor and marginalized.

But together, we will stand up and fight back.

As I reflect on these issues, I want to make something clear: my goal is not to foster anger or resentment toward any group of people. I love all people, regardless of race or background. This conversation is about shining a light on systemic issues that have affected Black and Brown communities disproportionately for decades. Addressing these challenges is about seeking justice and equality for everyone, not pointing fingers or assigning blame. Together, across all races, we can work toward a more just and compassionate society.